In the Future many things will be possible making the most wonderful of dreams come true. However, it should always be remembered that nightmares are also dreams.
Pesky Disclaimer that I almost forgot!
This is loosely based on an old TV Game show and other fiction based off of it. This is my interpretation. I'm not making a dime off of this because I don't own nothing!
Thanks as always goes the marvelous Cathy! Thanks Hon!
By
Grover
10/29/2017
Chapter One
Appropriate Quotes
Isle de Tempete
Capitol City of Sainte Trinite'
“You'll never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy.” I quoted from one of my most favorite George Lucas films to my friend Darlene.
It was with great tribulation that I eyed the Caribbean Paradise of Isle de Tempete. Island of Storms. That was because like it's name says the place was right in the sweetest spot in the Caribbean to be hit by damn near every hurricane that came anywhere vaguely near it or so it seemed.
A couple of decades ago the place looked like reaching third world status would've been a great achievement. Poor with little to no worthwhile natural resources, the natives barely survived day to day much less year to year.
That all changed when a group of wealthy, but old and dying assholes decided to live forever or at least as long as their money held out. Nanotechnology could accomplish miracles, but some of those techniques weren't exactly moral much less legal in the rest of the world. Nearly every country in the world forbid the sort of procedures required to make an old fart with too much money young again.
“Aw, come on, Gene.” Darlene batted her false lashes at me. “It's not that bad.”
“I suppose we didn't have to sign 'Lack of Liability' papers just to get on the boat?” My sarcasm was thick enough to cut the BS. This place was dangerous with a capitol D. Unlike the usual picturesque island paradise, rather than look rundown, the port looked new and modern. It wasn't exactly because of blood money, but it wasn't 'clean' either.
“Well,” My transsexual friend admitted, “That is why it is recommended to have friends along.”
“And that is why I came.” My smile was genuine. “You are my friend and I like you just the way you are.
“Not the way a bunch of,” I rethought my words. Such things could get me and her in more trouble than we wanted. “Island bureaucrats with too much power might want to remake you.”
“Gene,” her voice showed more of her masculine birth as she turned serious. “This place lives and breathes medical tourism. Of all the world this is the one place where I can be rebirthed as the person I should've been in the first place.
“The miracles they can do here have saved so many lives.” But then she sighed. “Yes, it can also be abused. I know it and you know it. The people in charge here also know it, so behave, you hear me, Mister?”
We both knew she wasn't talking about the native bureaucrats. The Billionaires, that more or less bought the place, were the real rulers here and they did abuse their power. They transformed those who angered them into everything from hybrid animals to sexual toys. Stories of their vengeance bordered on that of the gods of myths and legends.
“I understand.” Damn right I did! “I have no desire to piss off anyone who can turn me into just about anything they want. I'll be a good boy.”
“Perhaps they have power that no one should, but nothing comes without cost.” She smiled, reaching for my hand.
“I know, I know.” Smiling back, I held her hand. More than a few people have thought we were lovers, but really we were just very old and good friends. We'd meet many years ago serving together in the Army and our friendship had survived thick and thin ever since.
Darlene's coming 'out' had set my world spinning, but after having some time to get my head straight, our friendship became even stronger. I wasn't 'that way' but I knew some folks had a hard time accepting that gals and guys could just be friends. Once 'she' was my brother, now she was my sister. It was real easy in the end. Just like the guy with the pointed ears said, 'You are and always have been my friend.'
'Nuff Said!
Going through customs wasn't difficult. We only had to show our visas, passports as well as the signed and notarized 'Enter at own risk' papers. They didn't even look at our baggage.
Now, leaving would be a whole other enchilada. The type of nanotechnology practiced here was verboten in just about every country in the whole world. Before we would be allowed to leave, any nanites had to be either, removed or absolutely inert, dead with no chance of revival.
The decon procedures and the scanning were as intrusive and unpleasant as they came. Yes, we had to sign yet more papers saying we knew all of that too!
On the other hand, once we got out of the city of Sainte Trinite's passenger terminal, nothing too outrageous was visible. Much like Kuwait, the natives were treated like royalty and received a very healthy income just for breathing. All the menial workers were immigrants mostly from poorer nearby islands.
The not 'too' part referred to how attractive the populace appeared. No one was fat, limped, or even had baldness except for those who I guess wanted the Kelly Savalas look. I'd gotten a lot of this from various internet sites and forums. Even the workers were 'upgraded' so to present the best face to the customers.
Knowing what to look for, I found the pins they wore indicating what clinic did their 'improvements' advertising at the most base level. Besides that everything shouted of the money invested in this place.
The roads were the new solar energy ceramic cobblestones that took full advantage of the Caribbean sunny weather. The buildings were all storm resistant and bustled with business. Even the usual crazy island paradise traffic had orderly bike paths and well kept vehicles very much a different from the colorful buses running only because of courtesy of bailing wire and excessive elbow grease.
Darlene squealed as our cab pulled up. Smiling, I understood, at least intellectual, her excitement. She'd saved up for years for this and had withstood me and my doubts about the wisdom of coming here to Isle de Tempete.
“It's not wise to race into the storm!” I half-joked with her.
Unfortunately, she was right about what this place offered. Almost any hospital could use the wider medical community's approved nanites to give her a feminine appearance. Only in the Eye of the Storm could she be rebuilt as a functioning woman. The key words here are appearance and and functioning.
From my failed marriage, I had no idea why anyone would ever want to menstruate. My Ex, the Wicked Witch of the East,West, and all points between had made my life an unforgettable hell during those 'times' which all too soon became 'all' the time.
'Insensitive clod' I may well be, I'd never learned how to read minds. Nope, couldn't do it then and can't do it now. Even the ethically challenged doctors here haven't figured that one out, at least not yet.
“Hey,” I laughed, “Calm down! You don't have your first appointment till tomorrow.”
“I just feel like all of my dreams are coming true!” Her voice kinda broke at that. “Finally, I get to be me and my closest friend is at my side.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I grumbled theatrically. “Just try and keep the after procedure shopping down to only a few hours. I'm not as young as I used to be!”
“You could get that seen to while we're here.” Darlene elbowed me.
“Not no,” I kept my smile with effort. “But hell no! Doctors are here to fix the things that go wrong. I've earned my bald spot, wrinkles and my pot belly.” Patting my slight middle age spread, that had developed despite staying active. Courier work had become even more important in the world, given the problems with network and data security issues. Hackers were an ever present danger and the only way to completely avoid the problem was to hand carry data from one stand-alone system to another.
I, with my security clearance and military training, was a perfect fit. Mind you I never was a combat type, but instead worked on the intelligence side of the house. I already knew the procedures and protocols for keeping information safe, which gave me an advantage on the paperwork side of the business.
Additionally, if someone really wanted something they were going to get it if they were willing to pay enough. Fortunately for me hackers or the ones who hire them weren't the type to ambush armored vans and the ones who could hire mercenaries normally decided to throw money at corrupting a employee, creating an inside man instead. It was simply a better investment than hijacking an armored van and armed guards.
The one time I had run into a confrontation, through common sense, and I acknowledge more than a little luck, things had worked out to my benefit. Hell, I'd even gotten one hell of a bonus from not only my company, but the clients as well.
That had turned into my retirement fund which was a good thing since the Ex had cleaned me out until the bitch had been stupid enough to off herself with an overdose that even the miraculous medical science of today could revive. I hadn't rejoiced because at one time I had really loved her, but she'd made her bed and had slept in it. These days with my simple needs, I was actually in the green with savings no less.
The occasional Science Fiction and Fantasy convention did cause hits to my account, but hey, it was a part of who I was, right down to the 'Vulcan' ears in my display case. They sat right next to my 'sonic screwdriver' replica and my dagger, 'Sting.'
“Luddite,” she huffed playfully. “If you can fix it, why not?”
“I'm happy with who I am.” Shrugging, I opened the door as we arrived at the Islander Hotel. “Here we are, but I wonder how long you'll be able to sit still.”
“You!” Darlene gave me a little shove, not that I budged an inch. I was pretty solidly built and she had worked hard at having something that resembled a feminine figure. As a matter of fact she had to put on some pounds so the nanites could do their work safely. You can't build the Taj Mahal Hall without the construction materials to do so.
“Here you go my lady.” I held out my arm, channeling 30 some odd years of role-playing. “May all your dreams come true.”
“Why thank you kind sir!” Her wide smile said it all.
She was my dearest friend.
Master Control Central Computer ( MC3/Emm-Cee-Cube)
The very sophisticated machine bordered on artificial intelligence with the way it ran the Isle of Storms. From the traffic control system, public utilities, immigration, and police, to the day to day administration and bureaucracy, MC3 controlled it all.
A part of its duties were making certain that the Masters' special 'needs' were meet. In some cases it was assisting in a kidnapping to lining up contestants for the 'games' they favored and played.
This particular game was 'Royals or Serfs' that was better known as 'Princess or Slave.' Normally they very seldom lacked available contestants, but an unfortunate accident had caused an opening. MC3 could simply have moved everyone up one slot, but the Masters did enjoy when things were shaken up from time to time.
Last year with that involuntary contestant who had literally willed themselves to death after the participating audience had decided on a set of changes that very much went against their mindset had caused some problems. Public relations were always very vital to the Isle, given most of the rest of the world saw them in a negative light despite the unique services they offered.
Additional precautions were put in place so that would not be happening again, but the damage was done. What was needed was a contestant whose story could be spun to positive effect while still interesting the Masters.
Microseconds later a list was complied while a series of programs investigated each one for suitability. A selection was made.
Gene Rodgers Aldric was accompanying a Darlene Jane Franklin on a standard medical tourism visit. They were life long friends although psychological profiles confirmed reported evidence that romance was not involved. It was something MC3 could work with.
More information going from financial and covering both Aldric and Franklin's military records were gathered and compiled into a summery and report. An interesting datum appeared. Aldric had been involved with foiling one of the Masters' schemes at acquiring a necessary document that would've leveraged the buyout of a property that was of interest.
Perhaps it'd been a minor incident and the man had been only acting as contracted, but the Masters' very rarely ever forgot a slight. To have someone literally walk into their control was something that could not be ignored.
If the computer could've frowned it would have. How did it miss this during the immigration and visa checks? Still disgruntled, it was traced back to Aldric's security company's policy of keeping employee's identities confidential. MC3 had found the link only by backtracking the bank records.
An amended protocol insured that such overlooked data would not happen again. A recommendation and report were sent to the Masters human assistants for approval. It went on with the work of managing an island empire uncaring of the human life it had put in jeopardy.
In the end it was just a computer running a program after all.
Chapter Two
Dark Clouds
Day of First Examination
Sainte Trinite' Marketplace
Gene Aldric
“Would it do any good for me to tell you to calm down again?” I couldn't help laughing. I'd seen first 'him' and then 'her' from everything from sad, happy, depressed, pissed off, and just about everything in-between. However this was the first time I'd ever seen her ecstatically overwhelmed with joy.
“But my appointment went great!” Darlene's eyes glowed. “I had my first injection of nanties and tomorrow morning I'll get the second!”
“And the actual transformation is set for that afternoon.” Grinning, I finished her sentence. “I know! You've only told me about a dozen times or so.”
“I'm suppose to pig out the rest of today and tomorrow morning.” She went over the doctor's directions. “Then it's fasting until after my re-birth.”
“Well, even with those tiny machines in you, food can only be digested just so fast.” I reasoned. “You still have to be put out just like for any surgery. Nobody likes someone being sick all over them. Besides, being rebuilt like you've shown me has got to be painful.
“Come on.” I took my friend's arm. “Let's check out that list of recommended food. I'm getting nibblish myself.”
“I thought you would never ask.” Darlene giggled. “Lead on kind sir!”
A Conference of Masters
The teleconference connected a half dozen of the most powerful men and one woman on the planet. Most certainly more women were part of the wider circle of Masters, but these were the founders, the ones with the ambition and the dream as well as more importantly the power to make it reality.
Security and secrecy still ruled their interactions. Thus they never revealed their actual identities or faces. The silhouettes they used did have security identifiers so that they knew who they were talking with as well as to foil covert actions against them.
“There is no doubt.” Alpha stated plainly. “This Aldric is the perfect contestant. I am less happy that using him will mandate at the very least a scripted happy ending, but I will get my pound of flesh. He caused me a considerable amount of wasted effort.”
“It will be good for the ratings.” Delta acknowledged. “Subscriptions are down after that 'incident' last year. This will boost the pay-for-views as well as the premium memberships.”
The Princess or Slave game show advertised itself as being the chance to achieve your dreams, but in truth it was a highly profitable venture that allowed 'members' to vote on a choice of penalties for contestants. It allowed the common masses a taste of the kind of power the Masters possessed.
“How many rounds are you thinking?” Beta inquired. “Go too far and even the stupidest viewer will know it's not a happy ending at all.”
“Far enough to ensure Aldric will not have a job.” Alpha's stony face was almost gleeful if you knew what to look for.
“That means no career change.” Zeta grunted. “That's one of the most popular alternations seeing the high and mighty reduced to menial labor.”
“It's just Bread and Circuses.” Delta remarked. “That will still satisfy the masses, although we should think about using our votes to engineer ties for additional transformations. That will help satisfy our usual viewers since we're reducing the number of rounds.”
Nods went across the screens. They as Inner Circle got to see the voting results before they were posted and had the chance to add theirs to the ones of their choice. It was still mostly honest despite like any profitable game, it was skewed heavily in the favor of the House or in this case the Masters.
“That's fine.” Alpha agreed. “For him to suffer for the inconvenience he caused he has to, needs to, still be aware. An empty headed nymphet without a thought in her pretty head does not provide that.”
“I call for the vote.” Delta followed protocol.
No one was surprised at the tally. Instructions went out to the Princess or Slave's active 'organizers.'
There was a contestant to be 'volunteered.'
Day of Procedure
Sainte Trinite' Marketplace
Gene Aldric
“No you don't” I guided Darlene away from the display of freshly baked pastries. It took some willpower on my part too. They did smell good, but I wasn't about to tempt or tease my friend by eating when she couldn't.
Considering the breakfast she put away, it surprised me despite knowing she was overflowing with fuel hungry nanties. Still after missing lunch I was getting hungry, big breakfast or not. On the other hand missing a meal was nothing new for me. It was all part of the job, and that was not counting my middle-age breadbasket about my waist.
“I know.” She grumbled. “Nothing but water. That doesn't mean I'm not ready to start chewing on your arm!”
“No worse than being on a field problem soaking wet and freezing cold when Lt. I-can't-find-my-own-ass got us lost.” I reminded her of one of the times that both of us had been absolutely miserable.
“I thought the First Sergeant was going tear him to bits right in front of the whole company.” Darlene giggled.
“Perish the very thought of Top Bailey acting so unprofessional.” I grasped my chest dramatically. “I do know that Captain Lee, all five feet four of her did ream the LT out, but good, out of sight.”
“After suitable coaching by First Sergeant Bailey before hand of course.” She added lost in tour old Army memories.
“Of course.” Grinning, I lead her down the market street. Today was about the only day we were going to have just to waste time and it helped keep Darlene occupied during the wait. “She reminded him that officer or not he was the least educated of the whole squad. Intelligence analysts one and all, half of us were fully qualified as cartographers. Maps were our bread and butter.
“Yeah, he was an idiot.” She agreed. “Hogging the only map while insisting he wasn't lost was just normal male BS. It took less than twenty minutes to get us un-lost once we got the map.”
“Hey, I'm not that bad!” Defending myself, I headed for a table that didn't sell food. “Besides, the Captain did point out that stupid shit like that got people killed. When you have experts and specialists available, you use them.”
“So true.” Darlene sighed, misquoting. “Those were the best of times and the worst of times.”
“It was the people that made them so.” I added trying to ignore the surveillance that covered this whole island. It made the controversial camera coverage in London seem sparse the way even the alleys were covered.
Only an idiot more stupid than even LT. Brown even thought about trying to steal anything here. You would get caught and it was damn near a guarantee that they would end up on one of the Isle's twisted game shows. Ending as a sex toy, or a 'pet' with no rights was pretty much the same as a death sentence. Whatever made you, you was gone. I think I heard Darlene call it identity death once. Dead was dead.
“So what do you think?” I looked at my so battered old watch. “Time to head back?”
“Yes!” Darlene exclaimed nearly starting to hop and skip.
“Well, okay then.” Smiling, I let her drag me along. I'd spied the small bar and grill that I'd been told about. It was close to the hospital and it was said to have decent fare. That was good enough for me. With a full belly, I had a good book I wanted to finish. Pretty much a perfect night to try and keep from worrying about my friend.
The place to go for medical transformations or not it was still 'a hive of scum and villainy.'
Mr. Perez and Mr. Wong
Game contestant recruiters
Talent scouts
The two suited men followed the pair on their way to the tranny's appointment. After working together for so long they kept up a constant meaningless banter that had nothing to do with their 'subjects' of interest.
“Well, Mr. Perez I do believe you owe me 20 Francs.” Despite being of different races both were short, stocky and swarthy men not that either had been born that way. Having lived rather 'exciting' lives a change in appearance had brought their loyalty to their current employers. “Costa Rica never had a chance against the Netherlands.”
“I rather thought Jermaine would've made more of a difference.” The other replied, handing his partner the cash with a callused hand. Both were well practiced in violence. “He was not at the top of his game.”
“True,” The Asian folded the money putting it away in his suit's jacket. Carrying weapons made it unwise to dig for his wallet. Having sufficient money easy to reach, but not a temptation for thieves was a hard habit to break despite living here on the Isle of Storms. “However, as good as Costa Rica has proven to be, their odds against South Korea is less favorable.”
“I agree, Mr. Wong.” The Hispanic nodded, tracking their 'subjects' as they entered the nanotechnology clinic. “It should be a good game, but I'm hesitant to lay down money. However, Diamonque is fighting Serilda this weekend in San Diego. That German is a tank and I think she'll tear that Muay Thai bimbo to pieces.
“Ridiculous, Mr Perez!” Boxing lacks the flexibility to deal with Diamonque despite being able to tank hits. It's far better to not get hit at all. I'll put the usual 20 Francs on my girl from Australia.”
“Done, Mr. Wong.” They didn't show a sign of them picking up their subject as he left the clinic heading straight for the Storm Center Bar and Grill.
“I do believe I could use a brew.” The Hispanic's eyes gleamed. This was going to be so easy.
“I'm feeling a bit dry myself.” The Asian answered, smiling like a shark sensing blood in the water. “Shall we?”
“We shall, Mr. Wong.” The other replied. “Oh yes, we shall.”
Chapter Three
Bad News and Worse News
Day After Procedure
Sainte Trinite' Medical Facility
Darlene Franklin
“How do you feel?” A nurse asked her.
“A bit out of sorts, but not bad.” She carefully stretched a little. “A little sore and stiff, I guess.”
“That's normal.” Nurse Simms smiled checking a data pad. “With a nanite transformation like yours, your muscles and bones are still settling into their new configurations. In the old days you would be looking a weeks of physical therapy, but give you another few hours you'll be able to walk out.”
“Yay,” Darlene smiled, meaning every word. “For modern medicine. Do you have a mirror?”
“One of the first things all of our patients ask for.” Nurse Simms laughed. “A hand mirror is on your nightstand, but be careful. Your coordination is likely still off.”
“This is a test isn't it?” She carefully reached for and picked up the mirror.
“The more you get used to your new self the quicker the entire process will be.” The nurse watched ready to help if needed.
Darlene evaluated the face she saw. It was very close to the one she and the doctor had talked over and decided on. Not a classical beauty, but attractive and one that could've been an aunt's or niece face perhaps. Her as she should be, finally!
Gray eyes and her dark hair went well together, she thought. The heart shape pleased her much more that that old Kirk Douglas chin from hell. Just as nice was the late twenties appearance instead of nearly fifty although that was as much a side-effect of being rebuilt by nanotechnology.
All that nasty plaque and other unwanted products accumulated during a half century of life was mostly used as fuel for the ever hungry tiny machines. A fountain of youth it wasn't, but it did tend to make one come out ahead despite the incredible stresses changing put on the body. She would likely live another fifty or more years and keep in relative good health.
Speaking of good health or more to the point the lack there of.
“Where's my friend, Gene?” She wondered if he'd wandered off looking for some of the infamously unhealthy food he was so fond of. He was her best friend and she worried about him.
“Well, you see he got into some trouble.” The nurse wouldn't meet her eyes. “He got drunk and started a fight.”
“Oh no.” Darlene buried her face in her hands. This was so not good. Gene had never been in any kind of trouble at all with the exception of a traffic ticket and a parking citation or two. Add to the fact that he rarely drank at all, it was very suspicious and suggestive that somehow he'd been 'noticed' by those who were very, very powerful and dangerous.
“He doesn't drink much.” She sighed. “And when he does, he's sleepy just from a dose of NyQuil and is out like a light.”
“Oh,” Nurse Simms got it.
“Can I use my tablet?” The recently changed woman asked. “I have a lot of research to do.”
“Honey,” the nurse tried to comfort her. “If it's what you're thinking there is not much anyone can do.”
“Perhaps, I can't.” Darlene firmed her resolve. “But I have friends.”
Gene Aldric
Sainte Trinite' Police Confinement Facility
I would've moaned again if it hadn't hurt so much the first time. Opening my eyes was a mistake too, but I had to see where the hell I was. It didn't help much since the whole world was a giant blur.
All that did was make me frantically look for something to throw up in. I mostly made it, not that it fixed anything. At most it was one less thing to clean up. Now more alert I could see I was in a detention cell.
Okay, really not good.
That gave me the focus to search for the last thing I remembered. There was this bar and I had ordered a grilled steak sandwich with the works. The waitress had been rather cute and friendly.
Everything else was a gray haze like having a dream I only vaguely recalled in flashes that made no real sense.
Holding my aching head, that set off alarms all over the place. Pretty young things out clubbing ain't the only ones who have to worry about being drugged. One of my fellow couriers had gotten it in his morning coffee. The poor bastard ended up naked in a ditch without his vehicle or the confidential parcels he'd signed out for delivery.
Because of that, all of us had been warned about the dangers and what to look for. The thing was most guys usually aren't that careful or aware. It's blind spot the bad guys look for, but I was careful, damn it!
Unfortunately I couldn't do a thing if it'd been added to my food or a pair working together had got me. One as the distraction, while the other slipped me the drug. The thing was all the surveillance on this piece of paradise it should've caught who or whatever in the act.
If not, then someone with real pull and power wanted me in the system and that was not good at all. I had no desire to end up a sex toy, a puppy, cat or any other kind of pet, for kinky purposes or not!
I'm happy being me, damn it!
A normal looking guy who can make a decent living and who's a bit of a geeky nerd.
This place could chew me up and what came out wouldn't be me at all. That's besides not knowing what in the world I did wrong to end up here. Perhaps I should've watched my words more carefully, but I didn't think I'd said anything too out of line or critical of the current regime.
What worried me more was that Darlene could be caught up in this shit too.
Turn that 'could' into a damn certainty.
The big problem was I was clueless about what was going on.
I had not a clue as to what I did or what they say I did. How was Darlene? Did she make her transformation okay or was that interfered with as well?
Until I got some answers all I could do was sit here feeling like the whole world hated me.
Then my defense council walked in.
“I'm Dominic Alaverz.” The man walked in carrying a tablet. “I'm your court appointed defense attorney.”
“So how bad it it?” I asked, “I haven't a clear memory of what happened. I went into a Bar and Grill for a late lunch and woke up here.”
“You're in considerable trouble.” The man wouldn't meet my eyes. “Multiple accounts of assault and battery as well as causing quite a bit of property damage.
“Some five thousand Francs worth.” He checked his notes.
“What exactly does that mean for me?” I took a deep breath, he knew I was being set up. I was sure of it. Anywhere else it might've meant something, but not here. The big bosses in charge decided what the law was and for some reason they didn't like me.
“With conclusive verifiable video evidence.” Alvarez stated, “You've already been found guilty. At this point it's only the punishment that is left to be decided.”
I nodded. There was good damn reasons why the State Department advised against travel here. Just forget a jury of peers or innocent before being proved guilty and any other thoughts of true justice.
“Judge Demarco has ruled against leveling fines. He feels that justice would be best serve in other ways.”
My stomach roiled like an active volcano. The Isle did not have prisons. Their jails worked just fine as the temporary holding facilities they were intended to be. Why would they need prisons when they could warp anyone into just about just anything they want?
Here paying your debt to society might very well mean from doing it on your back to becoming a 'service' animal. I really didn't want to move down the evolutionary ladder. Most days I felt it was difficult enough to just stay where I was in spite of Darlene's playful allegations that guys stood lower than the ladies any way.
All guys aren't cavemen looking to drag a woman away. Her reply was maybe not, but enough are. That I couldn't argue since I'd heard more than my fill of locker room talk that supported her, damn it!
“However,” he straightened his tie. “The Gaming Authority has offered to buy out your 'service' in exchange for you becoming an contestant on one of their programs.”
And there was the carrot after showing the stick.
“Do you have any recommendations?” I was curious because, he did know I'd been set up and I suspected had orders to steer me in a given direction.
“Mr. Aldric,” my defense adviser sighed. “There aren't any good choices here, only less bad. Thrown into the general service pool, I don't think you'll survive with your mind and sense of self intact. Someone wants you broken. It might only be just enough to convince you to take the Gaming Authority's offer because that seems to be where 'they' want you.
“So accepting the contestant thing now will save me from abuse meant to convince me take their offer?” Okay, I got that I'm being railroaded and whoever did it had pretty specific plans involving one of those damn mixed up game shows. The bits I'd seen did not help my lack of faith in my fellow human beings.
“That's debatable.” The poor guy winced. “There is a chance that you could walk away as rich as any Prince.”
“But the odds are not in my favor.” I continued for him. Obviously Mr. Alvarez did not like this situation.
“House odds, Mr. Aldric.” he shrugged helplessly. “The General Service Pool does have some rules of what can and can't be done to you. The Gaming Authority has none aside from what their interactive audience votes for.”
“And no one is as vicious as a mob.” I wanted to bang my head on the table. From my army training, I knew anyone could be broken. There was only finding the right tool for the job and I had no illusions that they couldn't find the one that would work just fine on yours truly.
On the other hand, this was sounding more and more like they wanted me on the most infamous mockery of a game in modern history. Just last year, a girl transitioning was changed to such a degree that she killed herself right there in front of everyone. Just willed herself to death, because what that aforementioned mob had done to her.
Think of the most utterly offensive parody of a male transitioning to female and that would be close.
“Precisely,” he nodded. “And due to the near toxic levels of nanotechnology necessary to make their transformations appear spontaneously in front of their audience it is as good as permanent.”
“So I agree to this or they break me and then make me agree anyways.” Can anyone say unhappy? “I still end up doped full of nanites facing the troll mob.”
The man supposedly in my corner nodded.
It was a classic case of damned if you do and damned if you don't, or in other words, just plain damned.
“Do I have any time to consider this?” I thought carefully on my phrasing of this. “My friend was having a procedure done and what happens to me affects both of our travel plans.”
“You have until tomorrow.” He answered. “You'll be shipped off to the General Service Pool then.”
“Please,” Damn, that was so hard to do! If I remember correctly she wouldn't be released until noonish depending on how well things went. That doesn't give us much time. Old Napoleon was so right. 'You can ask me for anything, but time. “Could you please pass on this information to Ms. Darlene Franklin? She is listed as my emergency contact since I don't have any family. That information should be in my visa paperwork as well as in my wallet.”
“I see nothing wrong with your request.” The lawyer nodded. “I'll deliver it as soon as we're done here.”
“Thank you.” I kept my sigh to myself. Darlene was going to go nuts over this! First she would blame me for getting into a fight. Then she'll blame herself when she works out that I'd been setup and because she'd been the one to drag me here despite my misgivings.
Somewhere along the line, my friend would put her research hat on and dive into the data sea. Knowing her, she'll find someone near or on that Gaming Authority and try to make a deal to try and keep me safe.
The last thing we need is for both us to end up on that damn show!
As Mr. Alvarez left I kept my fingers crossed. Please let him do as he says he would!
The Accountant
The Gaming Authority
Royalty or Serf Game Offices
He lounged back in his expensive chair enjoying the finest cigar that Havana produced. This was a great time to be alive. The finer things in life could be safely indulged because of wonderful advances in medical science. All the money he'd made by hook and crook during his life, he now got to enjoy while being healthy as a horse.
Sure he had to stay here on the Isle because of all the warrants out for his arrest and unfortunately he was not a member of the Inner Circle either with all the power they had at their command.
However with his playing the part of the Accountant on 'Royalty or Serf,' he got to play god. That more than made up for the rest. It was such a rush to take these peons and break their dreams by turning them into things they despised. How funny it was that each and every one thought they would be luckier than those that had come before them.
They always ran a clean game, but any idiot who had even passed high school math knew that the odds always favored the House. With the great majority of contestants becoming slaves, they were sold at a very healthy profit.
So what if it was labeled under the fiction of labor contracts, being intellectual equals with morons made them dependents of The Gaming Authority. Forget the official name, because everyone knew it was just politically correct advertising. Princess or Slave was right on the money.
No matter their genitalia, no man had or would ever leave his show after playing the Game, bimbos, sex toys, and pleasure pets one and all. He had sampled the wares of many of them including a few of those that walked away. Even those would forever bear the stamp of the Game he ruled.
On his wall was the five 'contestants' who had beaten the odds and retained their sense of self and identity. Some found it strange that he didn't hate and begrudge their successes. As a matter of fact, he felt more like a big game hunter who respected the prey who was wily and cunning enough to escape him.
Nearly forty years of confidence games, banking schemes and swindling poor and rich alike made him an expert on just how far he could push people. As the Accountant, he played the contestants like an angler does a large mouth bass. Offer insulting deals and then when it really matters they're so used to saying no, they do so again falling into the Game's trap. Each change was cumulative altering how they saw the world and, of course, affecting their judgment.
His eyes fell on Dancer's photograph. Her real name had been and still was for that matter, legally Janice Boone. However, to him she would always be what he had intended, Dancer. She'd been a tall blonde who he thought of as more handsome than attractive with her bold Scandinavian features.
It'd greatly amused him to mold the hard nosed Bostonian lawyer into a lithe Arabian belly dancer. Sentenced due to contempt of court, the blonde learned the hard way that the law worked different here than in Massachusetts, although that had been the Inner Circle's plan from the very beginning.
She and her firm had been due a lesson because of how they'd interfered in far too many of the Circle's plans. Allowing Dancer to represent a 'client' here was just part of that prearranged object lesson.
It had all gone well in the beginning. Goading her to push harder had not been challenging and nor was the dangled prize of a 'plea' bargain to clear her client of their transgressions. It was once the music had cued up and the marquee lights shined that Dancer showed her true fire.
He'd known that like any lawyer she would do her research and have strategies and tactics prepared. The Accountant, however, held all the cards as well as having the House ratio in his favor. She had no idea of which changes he was going favor nor how that would shift the audience's votes.
The first seven Slave cases were always physical alternations. For most contestants they were the carrot to tempt them to play. The second round cases were the ones that really counted, the mental modifications. Those were the ones that sealed the deal leaving behind a willing slave for her masters.
On the look on that proud lawyer's face when her perfectly coif of blond hair turned into a dark water fall was one he'd reviewed so many times. Oh, but did he love the joys of recordings and close ups.
Almost as good was her cold blue eyes darkening into deep sensual brown orbs.
The Accountant sighed. However, there was a reason why she'd been so successful at being a thorn in the powerful's side. Towards the end of the first round she'd gathered four thousand game 'crowns' which was not enough to purchase her freedom. Still it was much better than most contestants had managed.
He had put up an offer he'd expected to be declined. Three 'slave' cases and he would double her crowns giving her enough to walk away. However, that would also put her well into the mental changes.
Dancer had stared up at his darkened silhouette in the Chamberlain's box, and taken his offer! Rather than try for one of the five grand crown cases hidden among the others, she chose to take whatever happened and end it there.
Again luck had been with her even if the last physical case completed the physical transformation for his Dancer. The clearly faked tits had been needed really to stand out on her trim athletic body. She'd mostly certainly had not agreed from those now dark flashing eyes.
Much to his dismay she'd escaped the worst of the round two modifications with compulsions to wear silks and damn the luck, flashy jewelry. The Dress style was something he had planned for her as well as the accessorizing the bling, but the Accountant wanted the career change and habits categories. Being the Dancer who was always swaying with the music would've worked right nicely and he did have a two in seven chance of it happening.
Still he smiled thinking of his Dancer. On his hard drive, he had footage of her dressed in silk suits accidentally flashing the jewel in her belly button. For all that she did still practice law, she would always be his Dancer.
Sighing, he put his cigar in the gilded ashtray.
This contestant promised to be difficult. The inner circle wanted a happy ending, but still desired punishment. That meant this show could not end with the House winning and the loser being lead away by a collar around her neck.
However, he mused that did not mean, he, the Accountant, had to lose. Win, win or at least it could seem that way if it was set up right. All the Round Once cases with perhaps with, like with Dancer, a case or two from the next round that might not seem too bad, but rubbed in the fact to the people who knew that it was in fact a punishment.
Slowly a smile grew on his face as he read the brief MC3 had put together of the soon to be 'once' Mr. Aldric.
A fantasy fan?
Now that gave him something to work with! Additionally, his 'friend' he'd escorted her shared the same interests?
He wrote out an outline. It would need to be run by MC3 to check if the psychological profiles agreed with his quick and dirty intuition. Still the Accountant had a good feeling about this and it shouldn't be too much of a problem to 'guide' the voting audience's voting in the way he wanted.
There was still many issues to be worked out, and the question of luck, but what was the purpose of playing if you couldn't lose? What would be the challenge of that?
He laughed remembering a line from an old movie. 'Do you want to play a game?'
Why, yes he did!
Chapter Four
Gathering the Host
Darlene Franklin
It'd taken her only a few minutes to start getting help. Emails to the various support groups she belonged to had began the rallying the troops. In this case they were all of those who had helped her organize her trip here as well as all the warnings of what to and what not to do.
Almost immediately, replies started coming in. They all stated that it was unlikely that Gene had been at fault. It seemed the Isle's case against him was posted online for all to see. It was Legal Eagle's position that it was clearly an entrapment to get him and most likely her too.
The poster pointed out how The Gaming Authority used people's desire to help others against them. She had been a victim of wanting to help her client and they had used that to get her to be a contestant.
Under no circumstances was Darlene to attempt to make a deal with the Accountant or the game's organizers. Legal Eagle had taken a huge risk and had escaped the worst consequences, but an enormous amount of good fortune had been involved.
Others 'gurls' like herself but who couldn't afford the high costs of the nanotechnology transformations, but had more or less gotten out without becoming a sex slave gave similar advice. Others spoke of promises such as medical aid to ill loved ones to entice them to risk more when it was already unbelievably chancy.
Some recounted how they could now only speak with ridiculous 'sexy' accents or wear certain types or styles of clothes. All agreed that changes like those were the least damaging of the mental compulsions. The career category was one of the worst since not only did it make you work in that new field, but it made you think you wanted and desired it.
Doctors, lawyers, scientists, and many others had all those years of learning ripped from them reducing them to waiting tables, working as a maid or other stereotypical woman's work. It was brainwashing at its very worst destroying the achievements that took years of hard dedicated work.
As for strategy on how to win. Most of the answers were the same. Be lucky, but if you were wise you had to play to the voting audience. The Accountant was a genius at manipulating them into selecting changes that fit into a chosen theme.
To survive with the core of yourself more or less intact, you absolutely had to charm the bastards watching and voting. If you didn't want breasts the size of beach balls and bleach blonde hair, you had better be damn good. Normally there would be less exaggerated choices available, but don't be surprised if it came down to the decision of least awful.
The bad part was you had to be quick witted. Once the choices were announced you had to decide fast which one you wanted as well as how to make that appealing to the viewers. Failure to do that always lead the voters to pick the most humiliating choices for the poor victim.
Darlene sighed. She had a lot of work to do. Gene could be charming, but he could be sarcastic too. That would not go over well.
Legal Eagle did have it right. She would've tried to make an arrangement to get her friend free. However she could see how it could be used against her. No doubt the deal would pull her into the whole mess while giving very little back.
Damn it, this was her fault dragging him here in the first place!
Closing her tablet, she was happy to see the Nurse enter. She had places to be and damn little time to make things right. Okay, maybe not right, but better. She had too!
Chapter Five
Jailhouse rock
Gene, oh I'm in so much trouble!
The moment the attractive brunette walked in, I knew I was doomed.
“Plato Barada Nicto.” Holding up my hands in surrender, I smiled.
“Gene you dummy!” The woman glared at me holding up her hand in the Vulcan Peace and Long Life greeting. “And it's properly Klaatu Barada Nikto.”
“And you left out the Gort.” I smiled relived despite knowing she was going to hurt me. “You turned out real good.”
“Thank you.” Darlene answered, “But you're still a dummy.”
“It's not my fault.” I kinda winced at that one. I honestly hadn't meant that to say that quote however much it fit. “The last thing I remember is ordering a sandwich and then waking here with one mother of a headache. It fits with being hit with a date rape drug.”
“Yeah,” she sighed, sitting down and putting her tablet on the table. “My research agrees with that. According to them this doesn't happen often, but often enough that there is a reason for all the papers we had to sign to get here.
“I'm sorry, Gene.” Her head was bowed. “You were right. It was too much of a risk.”
“Shit happens,” I took her hand. “You probably know better than I do at just how bad it is. I'm cut off here, but I'm told we have until tomorrow to take this gaming commission's deal or not. The attorney said I had the choice of refusing and going into their General Service Pool where they would likely try to break me so I would 'volunteer' for their game anyways, or I can just skip all that and just play their game.”
“It's called the Gaming Authority and that's what the forums, I've asked for help have said as well.” Her long feminine fingers flicked over her tablets touch screen. “
Shrugging, I glanced at the tablet screen that had the box cover to the old RPG game Paranoia. Message received loud and clear.
“I would be happier to avoid both routes, but at this time I don't know how having extra time is going to help me any.” Meeting her eyes I nodded. “Do any of your girls have any advice?”
“Loads,” She rolled her eyes. “How much of it is useful is another question.”
“That bad?” From years gaming with my friend, that really meant there wasn't much that could be done.
“Do you want the bad news or the really bad news first?” One of Darlene's newly feminine brows did the Vulcan thing.
“Let's do the Bad first.” I gave her a smile that probably looked really forced.
“You're going to end up at a minimum, looking very feminine.” My friend stated her lips tight with stress.
“Okay,” my stomach twisted into knots. “I know I'm going to have all kinds of trouble adapting to this. That's along with no doubt losing my job. There is no way I'll be trusted as a courier after having this done to me.
“Alrighty,” I tried to steel myself. “How bad can it get?”
“Everyone seemed to think the game they're trying to make you play is Royals and Serfs.”
“Crap!” My head fell back with my eyes closed in dismay. “Princess and Slaves?”
One eye peered at her shutting again after seeing her nod.
“I could end up a brain dead bimbo.” Okay this was very, really truly bad.
“The good is you'll remain human if perhaps with cute animal traits like cat ears or a puppy tail.” Darlene just kept giving the bad news. “However, since I'm listed as your emergency contact, I might be able to take custody of you instead of the Gaming Authority in a worst case scenario.”
“That's makes me feel so much better.” My sarcasm rose to he occasion.
Her hand struck like lightning.
“Ow!” I rubbed the back of my head. How had she reached that damn far?
“You make a remark like that to the host or the audience and you'll end up like that for damn certain.” Anger filled her voice. “I will not lose my friend because you're being stupid! I did get some good help and god help me you will learn. You got me Mister?”
“Yes, Ma'am.” This reminded me of cram session we used have back when we took classes together at the Army's service schools. High scores were important because they decided where you would be posted. My friend had it in mind we were going to stick together so I had sure as hell better do well... or else!
“Okay,” Darlene glared at me until she was sure I knew she meant business. “Here are some recordings of past shows my 'help' sent me. She even included subtitled notes to go along with them.”
“Let's do this.” I gathered what wits I had. This was not going to be fun.
The next day
Mr. Perez and Mr. Wong
The Gaming Authority Corporate headquarters
They gave each other a long look as they read their orders for the day. Most of the day had been spent brainstorming ways the General Service Pool system could be abused.
As long was the 'worker' was able to preform the duties contracted by the winner of the bidding, they could potentially be transformed into just about any form. Even the two of them agreed that a few of their ideas were positively evil particularly for a man.
Mr. Aldric had accepted the Authority's generous offer to resolve any and all punishments that he might face from legal issues on the Isle de Tempete.
Reluctantly they filed those suggestions away for perhaps another 'contestant.' They knew there would be a next time. There always was.
A few days later
Darlene
Au Cafe'
Sainte Trinite'
Isle de Tempete
Darlene closed her eyes for just a moment. She knew she was nervous, but had very good reason to be. This was more than a little like Mowgli meeting Shere Khan at the watering hole, but they dare not rock the boat.
Mr. Juan Perez was obviously not his real name, but the power he had as one of the show's 'Assistant Directors' was very real. Legal Eagle suspected that he might be the shadowy figure in the box, the Accountant. That made his invitation to meet for coffee was an offer one she simply couldn't refuse.
Sometimes, Legal Eagle scared the hell out of her. Once again she had hit the nail right on the head. Her advice had been to be extremely politely, but firmly refuse any and all offers for anything. That went from table condiments to the British Crown Jewels, do not use the word yes at all.
The man was a master manipulator who had arrest warrants for him in more countries in the world than ones that didn't. That was why he stayed in the one place on the planet that didn't have extradition treaties with anyone. He could talk a drowning man into buying water and gleefully would because he had no morals whatsoever. Legal Eagle flat out told her to check afterwards if she still had all of her belongings, and, yes, the man was just that dangerous.
Darlene considered herself a fairly worldly person, but given how almost frantic her online contact was acting, decided that an extra helping of paranoia was the order for the day. It didn't take an expert to see that this man had a run in with Legal Eagle, or that she had come out if not second best, hurt by the bastard.
She knew that her online adviser was sharp as hell. If he got one over on her, then Darlene was in a lot of trouble.
That made her snort. Nobody had to be a genius to figure that one out! There was no room for ego here. She had to try to keep Gene as much Gene as she could without damning herself or anyone else.
Darlene had to fight off the feeling of illness every single time she thought about him being the same way she'd been. Gender dysphoria might not be fatal in of itself, but it could and did make so very many lives so miserable that suicide looked like a viable alternative. When your body didn't seem to fit, it was a like clothes or shoes that were so uncomfortable that over time they just drove one crazy enough to attempt almost anything to make it stop.
Honestly, only Gene and his unbreakable loyalty had kept her alive long enough for her to admit to herself that she had to do what she could to be 'comfortable' in her own skin. That would not work for him. Once these bastards finish, there would be little medical science could do to reverse the changes.
Surgery could help to a degree, but even the remains of the extreme saturation from the nanites made any further use of nanotechnology lethal. That didn't include the compulsions from mental changes that often supported each other and the other modifications. Legal Eagle's example was one to force one to dress in a given style demanding they look a certain way while dressed. Breast reduction surgery might trim a cleavage enough so that a compulsion for a revealing style not being met could drive the poor soul to no end of anguish until they were back off to the surgeon to 'fix' the problem.
The same thing applied to even hair, nails, and makeup.
Ruefully, Darlene looked down at her own modest cleavage that she was very happy with. The nanotechs here did do good work. Anything that can be used for good, can be used for evil. She was sure someone had made a quote about that, but she couldn't think of it.
'Verily I go into the Valley of the Shadow of Death, I will fear no evil, for I am the baddest bitch in the Valley.' Confidence, but caution girl. Darlene walked forward. She had a meeting to attend.
“Miss Franklin.” The too handsome vaguely Hispanic man rose to his feet.
“Mr. Perez.” She remembered, no yes's!
Taking a seat, she did her best to take in the surroundings without seeming to stare. Some things jumped out to her senses. The two swarthy guys behind 'Mr. Perez gave her the same edgy feelings as some of the Special Forces and Delta Team guys she'd met years ago in the Service.
Call it a kind of blankness in the back of their eyes. Assume they were death on two feet given how powerful Perez was and likely nanotechnology enhanced. The rest of the world may forbid such things, but this was the Isle.
“Are you ready to order?” His dark eyes gleamed.
“Please, go ahead.” Darlene made herself smile, no yes's! “I'm sure I'll find what I want soon.”
“As you wish.” The moment he raised his hand, a waitress hurried over.
She really wasn't aware of what he ordered, but was thankful he didn't order for her. Could she even trust what was bought out for her? Darlene remembered all too well what happened to Gene. Did guys like those two goons doing the mafia guard thing slip her friend a drug or did they just simply bribe the cook to put it in his food?
“I'll have a regular coffee, cream and two sugars, please.” Their waitress was wearing heels that no one working the service industry would even consider. Only in places that encouraged a certain clientele would do so and then they were well paid. Being on one's feet for hours wearing those things had to be torture!
“She's a part of the General Service Pool,” Mr. Perez answered her unasked question. “Businesses bid on their contracts and then they are transformed in order to serve their new profession more efficiently.
“As set by the GSP a percentage of what they earn is split between the contract holder and what is owed to the court for their transgressions.” He smoothly explained.
“And of course that transformation cost is added to the total they have to pay back.” Darlene added suspecting he was going to leave that part out. It was as bad as that old song her grandparents used to listen by Tennessee Ernie Ford, 'Sixteen Tons.'
Referring to how the old coal mining companies used to deliberately keep their employee's in endless debt, the line went, 'You owe your soul to the company store.' Once caught in the GSP, it was almost impossible to get out of it.
“Your friend, Aldric was wise to accept the Authority's generous offer to compete in our games.” He waved at the busy downtown area. “There are those that take advantage of men in the Pool and take particular pleasure at humiliating them.”
“I have heard of such unfortunate stories.” She would look at this city much differently now. A place of miracles for some like her perhaps, but does that make up for the evil that made it possible? “It's good that Gene will avoid that although I gather from online that the Gaming Authority can be rather unfriendly as well.
“Should I be concerned?” Darlene waited as their waitress delivered their beverages.
“We do have games of chance.” Perez replied slickly, “Harsh penalties make the sparkling treasures all that much more valuable and worthwhile.
“That relates to why I wanted to speak with you.” He took a sip of his brew. “It is genuinely a gift to have a true friend. Since I and the Authority are in the process of organizing our next set of games, we were curious if you would be interested in taking a greater part than just supporting him from the sidelines?”
“What did you have in mind?” She asked, just knowing 'here it comes!'
“Well, we are still in the planning stages.” His eyes revealed the lie. “Perhaps you having the option of taking his place for a penalty. It is still undecided you must understand.”
“Oh” Darlene hoped her light laugh didn't sound too force. “Gene would be so upset if I did that. After all I just spent years of savings to pay for your nanotechs to become, well, me! With the support he'd given me over the years, I think he feels that he's as invested in my current appearance as me. I just couldn't betray him like that.”
“I can see your point.” He gave nothing away. “However, it may be possible to, if the worst happens, for you to take up your friend's guardianship if for some reason he becomes incapacitated. The law here is very firm on the Authority taking up that responsibility when it becomes necessary.”
“I wasn't aware of that.” And there was the stick. “Please allow me the opportunity to discuss this with Gene. It does concern him and his future.”
“But of course.” His smile made her ill. “I suppose it is only fair you talk to him, although it is easier asking for forgiveness rather than for permission.”
“That I remember from my old Army days.” Darlene said mostly smiling. His temptation might've been more effective if Eagle hadn't foretold how this would go almost word for word. Well, she didn't specify the exact bait he would use, but the how he would use it was right on the money. “However, Gene and I have mutual trust and respect. To act without letting him know invites a 'Gift of the Magi' SNAFU.”
“Ah yes,” Perez nodded, “The Christmas story where a young couple each sacrifices their most prize belongings to buy gifts for each other that they no longer need.”
“She sold her hair, and he, his father's watch,” Darlene recounted, “But she brought him a watch chain and he got her hair clips. I don't want Gene and me to tried to act in each other's best interest, but only to trip each other up. This might be a nice place to visit, but there's no place like home.”
“Then please let me know what you and Mr. Aldric decides.” He bowed his head slightly. “I and the production staff will need to know soon so we can finish planning. Here is my card.”
“Thank you, Mr. Perez.” Darlene took the card as causally as she could using only her nails. Paranoid or not she wasn't going to take anything this man gave her lightly. “We will do that.”
She walked away resisting the instinct to run from what she was certain had been a deadly trap. Hopefully all she left behind was smudged lipstick on a coffee cup that she'd left untasted. A distance away Darlene cleaned away the rest of her lippy just in case something had been on the cup.
There was still time to visit her friend.
The Accountant
Au Cafe'
Leisurely he finished his beverage. This was going to be quite enjoyable! Oh it was certain the woman had been coached, but still by his standards she'd done tolerably well.
She hadn't agreed to anything or made any promises except to call with their decision.
That'd been a little disappointing because it would've done wonders for his show's ratings to have her step in save her 'friend' from a vile threat. That was still a possibility, but not a strong one. The danger would have to be real and that would potentially ruin the 'happy' the producers called for.
Still he had wonder at who was coaching her. It had to be someone who had been a past guest of the Gaming Authority and likely of Royal or Serf. They knew just how he liked to manage things and that implied first hand knowledge.
That was a small list, but as annoying as that was, it added a level of excitement. True challenges were rare these days.
Standing he, headed back to his office feeling full of energy. He had a game to plan.
Gene Aldric
Sainte Trinite' Detention Facility
“This isn't easy.” I ran my hand through my thinning hair. “Even just role-playing out the scenario is tripping me up. What the hell am I going to do when I start changing for real?”
“Maybe you need to think of it as like Cos-playing at a Con.” Darlene suggested. “We've both done that often enough.”
“But only once as a girl.” This detention cell was getting very old. On the other hand, my leaving it would mean my manhood would be in grave danger. That was not a pleasant thought.
“And don't tell me you didn't enjoy it!” She folded her arms. “Both of us were completely exhausted by the time it was over running with those flashy glow in the dark magic wands.”
“I can't even remember what magic girl I was supposed to have been,” I complained, but smiled anyways. “But that was only a dump truck load of makeup and a girdle that had to been made in the lowest level of hell!
“Besides,” I threw my hands up in the air. “With the way this Damon MC guy will snark and troll me, I'll say something stupid and then I'll really be in trouble.”
“Listen here Mister!” Darlene got in my face. “If we had the chance I would have you in full makeup and dressed up just for practice. I know you can do this. I've seen you in the zone while role-playing. If our hobby had awards you would get the Oscar!
“Yes,” Her face was red and her eyes shined with passion. “Your body will be changing during the game. Think of it like being caught by a high level demon lord and you're playing for your very soul.
“That actually works pretty well.” I observed. “The Accountant/Demon Lord hidden in shadows watching from his commanding throne as his lesser servants torture the hero with their foul polymorphic magics trying to get him to break.”
“Yes!” Darlene grabbed my shoulders. “That is the attitude and mind set you have to have! You've got to play as you've never played before. I want my friend, the Gamer, with me when I walk off the boat in Charleston and not some Bimbo who thinks gaming dice are fashion accessories.”
“Oh God, no!” I smiled at the horror. “If that happens shoot me and bury the dice with my character sheets in my coffin. You can have my gaming books.”
“And on that note,” she sighed, “We have something else to talk about and I can guarantee you're not going to like. But first some background.”
“Alright,” I gave her a pained expression. If she said I wasn't going to like it then it was pretty dang bad. “Hit me.”
“Okay,” Darlene breathed out. “Eagle has been a lot of help and has been following your case. While she's been on the money more often than not, she thinks there are a few things that out of the ordinary.
“One of those is the Authority hasn't been as hard nosed as they've been in the past.” She flipped to a page on her tablet. “In several regards they could've pushed the both of us harder to make unfavorable agreements.”
“Like that Perez guy you meet a few days ago.” Boy, didn't that have me worrying until I saw her in front of me safe and sound. “You told him we didn't think it was a good idea but thank you for the offer.”
“Exactly.” She beamed at him. “He could've made an offer I couldn't refuse, but instead simply accepted our answer.
“That 'really' worries her. 'Anytime they alter things it's never for the contestant's benefit.'” Darlene paused, “That's a direct quote by the way.”
“Princess and Slaves did have all that bad press last year.” Thinking about it, I tried to look at it logically from their viewpoint, even if I wasn't a misogynistic bastard with delusions of godhood. “Perhaps they're trying to put a better spin on things?”
“That's one of her guesses.” Darlene acknowledged. “Another is that you pissed off someone so badly they want to get you and snare me too.
“I might even be their target.” she admitted, looking guilty. “But I don't think that's very likely. They would've just arranged for the clinic's nanotechs to take a payoff, and you would've been told I had a bad reaction, so sorry.”
“Okay,” I spread my hands out. “What's the bottom line?”
“Eagle thinks we need a fallback plan, just in case it all goes south.” My friend closed her eyes as if she really didn't want to even consider it.
“Plan ain't go no plan.” I joked trying to cut the tension.
“She wants us to get married.” Her voice was a whisper.
It took me several seconds opening and closing my mouth to make a sound.
“What!” I choked out.
“She knows people with serious grudges against the Gaming Authority that's very willing to backdate and slip in the paperwork.” Darlene sounded like she was being strangled. “That includes a Judge that will certify everything.”
“Go on.” I croaked, my brains threatening to short out.
“That would make me your legal next of kin.” She wouldn't meet my eyes. “If the worst did happen I would be able to get custody and help you.”
“And if the worst doesn't happen?” I wanted to know. This was my friend, perhaps not my brother any more, call her my sister.
“Then we can get it annulled when we get back.” Darlene explained.
“Yes,” My voice was so soft I wasn't sure even I said it.
“What?” She was surprised.
“It protects you too.” I took a deep breath. “You're my friend, my sister of the heart. If they try something I want to be able to get you out as well. Like Eagle says they're not above using us against each other.”
Her eyes were tearing and I braced myself for the tackle and resulting hugs. I had no idea how, but we were going to get out of this mess …. somehow.
<><><>
MC3
One of its strengths was its ability to plan. MC3 had all the information and now had to analyze and simulate the possibilities. It was aware of the choices that were going to be offered to the participating voters. The meeting of the Masters and their intention of causing ties during the voting was another consideration it had to take into account.
A through examination of Gene Aldric right down to his DNA gave the beginnings of the nanotechnology programming needed for each transformation. With the priority given to this particular program and the available resources, MC3 began running algorithms design to simulate 'pleasing' or attractive models for each level of transformation.
Given the Accountant's notes, it further researched the fantasy genre looking for examples that fit its parameters. It after all had the entire internet for a resource. If certain low priority users observed a slow down in service, they were generally wise enough to simply work through the inconvenience. While it was true that the squeaky wheel got the oil, here it also got something else that was far less desirable, attention.
Being a faceless bee in the hive was relatively safe. Being noticed, having a recognizable name, now that was dangerous when one lacked any other characteristic that could provide security such as money, family or anything else of value.
No, here one simply made do or risked becoming a contestant as well. As anyone on this island knew, there were worst fates than death.
In the Future many things will be possible making the most wonderful of dreams come true. However, it should always be remembered that nightmares are also dreams.
Pesky Disclaimer that I almost forgot!
This is loosely based on an old TV Game show and other fiction based off of it. This is my interpretation. I'm not making a dime off of this because I don't own nothing!
Thanks as always goes the marvelous Cathy! Thanks Hon!
Part Two of Three
Chapter Five
Sainte Trinite'
Royals or Serf's Studios
Gene Aldric
I took deep slow breaths. Ever since I been moved from the detention center to here, I knew panic lurked within me. Handed off to the two Gaming Authority's representatives, read as goons, I had good reasons to be nervous.
The pair of metallic cuffs on my wrists didn't help at all. Fitted a few hours after I'd 'agreed' to be a contestant, they'd been pumping nano-machines into me like there was no tomorrow. Then my appetite had gone nuts as those sames machines began multiplying so fast they made rabbits jealous. None of which helped me sleep well knowing what those things were prepping me for.
The modern building had a cheery front with bright signs advertising all the TV and game show studios it hosted.
What it should have was a rusty, cast-iron arch warning all to 'Abandon hope all ye who enter here.' Dante' I think would've come up with something more depressing if he'd existed in this time to describe what went on inside this place.
I suppose not all the programs that were created here took advantage of people twisting them as badly as any pits fiend from hell. This place also produced all the local versions of the news, and entertainment such as soap operas and other programs including kid shows.
However, it also hosted pay-for-view and digital direct to video programs too that would've appealed to the depravity of even the most debauched Roman Emperors. Royal or Serf or its more popular nickname Princess or Slave was just one of the many that focused on everything from the Furry thing which dealt with people being turned into animals or animal like features to a Truth or Dare like program that exchanged features between two antagonists.
My mind could not grasp who would be flat out crazy enough to risk body and soul in these so-called games that catered to such perverse misogynistic assholes. I intellectually knew that for some it was their last hope. Along with warping bodies it also healed any number of normally hard to treat diseases. For others like Darlene it took a body that was a curse and remade it so it fit better if not perfectly right. Hell, a few even wanted the prize of being a princess, a royal with all the wealth and property the program advertised.
However, nobody had ever won that damn prize although a few had quit before ending up dysfunctional nymphomaniacs with very nice chunks of change. In these latter years a millionaire was only being very well off. The Kings of the wealthy world these days were the Billionaires or the very few and rare elite Trillionaires.
'Breathe in, breathe out.' I schooled myself forcing my panic away. Fear is the mind killer. Never count your money at the table, because every hand's a winner and every hand's a loser. There's time enough for counting when the dealing is done.'
Despite my mantras I stole from Frank Herbert's 'Dune,' and Kenny Rodger's 'Gambler,' there was still wisdom in all of them. Keep my wits or the Accountant and his evil MC Damon would damn me to hell. However, don't focus on what I lost or won, transformed into or bullets dodged, I was facing a powerful adversary. My focus had to be razor sharp on the real goal, ending this in my favor.
I was a Gamer by god and I had a game to play!
It was still disconcerting when I was stripped and dressed in that damn catsuit. It would stretch and even modify itself to fit whatever I changed into. The fact the attractive, but vacant eyed smiling girls in 'wardrobe' knew just how to manage getting it on over those 'slave' cuffs made their impersonal actions more disturbing.
The thing covered my feet like a pair of footie PJ's and sort of surprised me with giving me a little grip on the floor so despite how slick the rest was. I think the supervisor took special pleasure in showing me the mirror that left no doubts that while I was in very decent shape for my age, I was still an older guy with all that implied.
Unlike Spandex which tended to smooth out softer body contours, This stuff acted as if it had been painted on showing my slight paunch in all of its glory. The damn thing even revealed just how much of 'package' I toted, but as they say, I had a secret. Being of Scot heritage my 'equipment' tended to shrink a lot more under stress or cold. Think of it as a survival trait. You don't leave what you truly value out in the cold!
So yes I got some barracks ribbing until I let them see me in my 'glory.' Some of the other guys from racial types nearer the equator didn't 'shrink' at all or very little. What you saw was what you got sort of thing. I had no reason for jealousy and for a while had the nickname of Magician since they wondered just how I hid it all, now you see it, now you don't.
That was barrack's locker-room style humor for you.
As they lead me to the green or waiting room, the snickers and rude looks of the staff in the hallway wasn't nice or restrained whatsoever.
Where I stood, none of this was a joke or funny whatsoever. I did take the strength of happier times to push my fears a bit further away. Like the saying goes, 'Never let them see you sweat.'
It was about then that realized something that made me smile. All of this was just to upset me and break my concentration, like a bunch of infantile boys jeering while another tried to make a difficult shot on the basketball court.
Truthfully, that kinda pissed me off. It wasn't as if the bastards didn't have all the advantages and set me up for no reason at all. They really had to pull this kind of cheap-shot shit too?
The red light in the waiting room turned green.
My two minders 'guided' me to the stage entrance.
I had a Game to win.
Game on you Mutha's!
Royal or Serf Studio
The Accountant
Already in his booth, he checked the telemetry the nanties were relaying through to control cuffs. At first it wasn't too bad. Nothing more than a little nervous and apprehensive which was expect to grow into near panic and hysteria as the past contestants now working in wardrobe had finished with him.
Unfortunately that didn't happen. If anything Aldric became calmer and more focused.
Cheating and using the nanites to artificially enhance the man's anxiety wasn't on the board. They did run a more or less clean game. Additionally, the Accountant wanted to win by showing he was the better man something that Aldric would not be very soon.
However, this willpower could make this a very interesting contest! Just how much could Mr. Gene Aldric take before shattering?
He smiled in anticipation. The Accountant could barely wait for the answer!
Chapter Six
Royals or Serfs
Studio Audience
Darlene Franklin
Her heart was beating like a hammer in her chest as that jerk Damon came out to introduce the show. The music and lights didn't really make an impact on her consciousness.
All the research, play acting and outright praying were either going to make a difference or it wasn't.
“Tonight's contestant is a visitor to Sainte Trinite'.” Damon waved down the cheers of the crowd. “At Fifty-Two he's older than most of our previous contestants, but he's lived a full life. A veteran of the US Army, he's currently an armed courier.”
There were ohs and ahs over than, but she was sure that some or most of that had been 'canned' sound effects added by the director.
“A real man's man.” Damon's eyes twinkled teasing the humiliation to come. “He's also something of closet geek being a long time Science Fiction and Fantasy fan as well as being a regular comic book convention goer. He's here with his good friend Darlene who took advantage of our superlative medical professionals.
“But he got into a little trouble here in our island paradise.” The man did know how to work a crowd. “Will he earn his way to freedom becoming a Royal or will he fail and be a Slave!”
The crowd roared, making her want to cringe. It was as if she could feel their blood lust and carnal desires to tear a good man down.
Poor Gene came in dressed in the same leotard that all the contestants wore, that awful gleaming white thing that showed every flaw. As handsome as her friend was, he was also on the other side of fifty. Unless you were able to constantly fight against old man time having his way or these days have a butt load of money you were going to show your age.
Honestly she thought he could pass for forty something, but he did stay active despite the stereotypes of their role playing gaming hobby.
“Welcome to Royal or Serf!” Damon put his arm around Gene's shoulder.
“I wish I could say I was happy to be here, but thank you anyways.” Her best friend gave a wry smile.
They had known this was coming and had worked on how the asshole invaded one's private space in order to get a rise out of his victims. She was happy that it had worked.
“Oh that's right.” The Master of Ceremonies acted as if surprised and he hadn't already announced it to the audience. “You're here because you got into some trouble.”
“Yes, I did, Damon.” Gene nodded sadly. “I can say wholeheartedly that I wish it hadn't happened, but it did. I do hope that anyone that got dragged into it are well and haven't had too much in the way of problems.”
“That's mighty big of you.” The Ass patronized looking at her friend's crotch and smirking.”
“I've often found that being straight forward pays off in the long run.” Her friend kept his smile. “Saves borrowing trouble most times.”
“And when it doesn't?” Damon sneered, implying he was much smarter than Gene.
“Well, there's always someone who just doesn't get it.” Gene spread his hands displaying openness. “Those are the kinds of people that ends up all alone crying out 'Rosebud' in the middle of the night.' Regrets can be a terrible thing.”
Darlene kept her giggle to herself, wondering how many people's head her friend's comment had gone over. She reckoned that they got the regret and all alone thing even if they missed the Citizen Kane reference.
Still, she silently urge him not to go overboard with the film quotes. People didn't like to seem dumb when they didn't get it.
“Just a little wisdom,” Gene gave a disarming grin, “That I've learned sometimes too late to help me, but some lessons you don't forget.”
“Well, Gene,” Damon showed a plastic smile. “We'll see if the lessons you learned will help you become Royalty!
The crowd roared their approval.
“We have twenty-eight cases on the stage before you.” The MC explained. “Half has various amounts of Gold Crowns while the others have links in a chain that will cause different changes to you. If you reach 10, 000 Crowns which is enough to by a 'title' you'll go free your obligations to our fair Isle paid in full. However, if you collect 14 links which is enough to chain together your cuffs, you'll be a serf and will labor for your masters to pay that debt.”
“I understand, Damon.” Gene nodded. “Crowns are good, and links in the chain are bad.”
“I couldn't say it better myself,” Damon laughed and the audience joined him.
Gene just kept smiling, even if she who knew him could see it wasn't easy.
“Here's Lana, my lovely assistant who will open the cases you chose.” Damon gestured at the scantily clad blonde who had more dangerous curves than nature had ever designed. The rather vacant eyes told the story that this girl was likely a former contestant that had been broken by the Accountant and his henchman. “Wave and say hi, Lana!”
“Hi Lana!” Obediently the woman waved, as the crowd cruelly laughed.
Darlene held her breath. This was just the kind of thing that would set off her friend. However, somehow he didn't lose it.
“Hi Lana,” He waved back, making the audience laugh again. Only the tightness around his eyes told of how pissed off he was.
'Please hold it together,' Darlene prayed with her fingers crossed. She'd never been very religious, but given how desperate this was, she was willing to try anything.
“Let's play!” Damon raised his arms to cheers. “What's your first case Gene?”
The Inner Circle
“He's showing more backbone than I expected,” Delta remarked. “This might be more enjoyable and better for the ratings than I first thought. However, it all depends on how well the Accountant manages the 'Happy Ending' we advised.”
A snort came from one of the other Masters. A 'suggestion' from one of them was a do-or-fall-on-your-sword command.
“The pride go before the fall.” Alpha huffed. “He talks well, but let's see 'him' keep that up with cock-sucking lips and tits so big he can't see his feet. I want him to 'hurt!'
“That the thing about pride isn't.” Beta was obviously amused and not talking about the Contestant.
“Indeed it is,” Gamma who had remained silent, spoke up. “This has the potential to be quite the show. Shall we cease our bickering and watch?”
The following silence indicated they agreed with him.
Chapter Seven
Royal or Serf
Gene Aldric
I made a display of studying the 28 cases in front of me. Lana was posing provocatively. She was an example of what morally bankrupt men like Damon beside me, and the Accountant up there hidden in his booth saw the fairer sex, as things.
My Daddy and Mama would have tanned my hide something fierce if I'd even had a barest thought of such. As a man I knew I was different from women in more than, as Darlene says, having an 'outie' instead an 'innie.'
They bought to the table another point of view that in my mind balanced out things between the two sexes, male and female, man and woman. Maybe that was why I was accepting of my friend. Despite being an 'outie' at the time, Darlene had always clearly been, if not female, a woman.
She bought balance to me and my life. No, I wasn't romantically attracted to her, if because of no other reason, I knew that at least until recently she was still an 'outie.' I just wasn't that way, but I had no problem seeing her as a sister. For both us and our friendship that worked for us just fine.
Okay, deep thoughts aside, what box?
“Let's try number 23, Damon.” I made a point of using his name. I'd read and been coached that using a person's name usually got a better and more positive response. The Good Lord knows I do with some of that right now.
“You heard the man Lana,” Damon made a production out of it all. “Open the man's case.”
Strutting over in her towering heels to the case she bent over showing her wonderfully rounded tush.
“Okay Gene,” Damon had his damn arm back round my shoulders. “The first case is always about being a Prince or Princess?”
The first case really didn't matter too much, but I still groaned when the opened case's screen revealed the Venus symbol of a circle with a double crossed line coming from the bottom.
Jeers and laughs came at my mournful expression, but I'd been expecting it. Never in the three years this abortion of show had been running had the male sign ever appeared.
“Oh, bad luck right off the bat.” Damon did not sound one bit sincere.
“Hoped for better.” I shrugged, giving an unhappy smile. “But that's the way life goes sometimes. You've got to roll with the punches.”
“More wisdom?” Damon, sneered.
“Nope,” I grinned, surprising him. “Experience. Let's try case 13 next.”
“Lana,” the MC made a why-not face. “Open number 13”
A trumpet sounded as the case revealed 300 Crowns.
“Congratulations!” Damon clapped me on the back. “You're on the board.”
“Could be better,” My face was beginning to hurt from all the smiling I forcing upon myself. “But I had to start somewhere.”
“That you do.” He agreed insincerely. “Before you choose your next case we're going to pause for a commercial break.”
Without a word, he walked off stage, but I was relived when an assistant bought me a water. I wasn't sweating like a pig under all the lights, but this sure as hell redefined stress.
Everyone else in the stage crew took the opportunity to straighten things up or move them around, while I saw hawkers in the audience selling drinks and snacks.
Picking out Darlene sitting in the front roll, I only gave her a slight nod not wanting to call attention to her. The odds were Damon would do that later on anyways, but there was no reason to make it easy for him.
A few minutes passed and he came back out as the crew hurried to their positions. That assistant came by to take my empty water bottle, but Damon smelled as if he had something stronger and no doubt expensive.
“Gene,” he popped in a breath mint. “When we go back on the air, I'm going to ask you about your hobbies and plans for the future.”
“Okay,” I nodded keeping my smile for latter. We knew this had been coming too. Just what direction it would take was anyone's guess.
“Welcome back to Royal or Serf.” Damon announce to fanfare as the lights came back up.
“But before we get back to our game, let's find out a little more about our latest contestant.
“Gene,” He put his arm back around my shoulders. “From your bio, we've learned you're a big Science Fiction and Fantasy fan.”
“Yes, I am.” A bit of Captain Jack's character goes a long ways, but it did get some laughs from those who got the joke. “John Barrowman is a fan favorite from several shows. He's is a great character actor.”
“Why, yes he is.” Damon agreed. “Do you have any other old favorites such as Seven of Nine from Voyager, Rommie from Andromeda or maybe Tauriel from the Hobbit films?”
“I rather like Viconia DeVir who is a character in Baldur's Gate.” I smiled. If they were going to change me into a girl, I sure as hell wasn't going to make it easy on them! “It's another old but still popular fantasy game that has been in film development hell for ages. Rumor is it's finally moving forward.”
“She's an elf, right?” Damon hid it well, but the slight incline of head showed he was getting fed information from his ear buds.
“Yes, she is.” I didn't have to fake my enthusiasm when taking about my hobby. “The computer game uses the Dungeons and Dragons RPG game and rules. She's a Drow elf who are dark skinned and live underground, but are mostly evil. Virconia is an extraordinary character who strikes out making her own life, her way.
“I'm also rather fond of Wonder Woman.” There, another strong character, for you misogynistic bastards! “Gail Godot's portrayal is still my favorite although Linda Carter's bring back a lot childhood memories watching reruns.”
“Thank you, Gene.” He ended that line of conversation. “Are you ready for your next pick”
“Twenty-seven,” I called out. Honestly, this was all random anyways with the cases being merely disguised video screens. If anything trying a pattern could work against me. Eagle's coaching had been not to concentrate on picking winning cases, but how to survive the transforming Slave cases and the changes the audience's picked.
I groaned as the ringing effects of clanking metal sounded as the chain link inside the case was uncovered. Now it was going to get serious.
The first case and the initial princess 'chain' case were always place holders. One that I'd already gotten making me into a 'Princess' and the other which I just got which would be body type. That first case's transformation was always held back until after the second pick. After with the type of audience this show catered to applying feminine features to my male body would not gather many viewers.
“Oh no, Gene.” Damon did not sound sad to me. “It's your first Serf case.
“The choices are:”
The big holo tank above us scrolled down the choices as he read them off.
Body Type:
1) Svelte delights
2) Delightfully Full
3) Amazonian fruits
4) Willows shade
As he did so the tank showed how I would look in each form.
Number One was a slim, but not petite girl, a gymnast or dancer, that had a softer version of my face.
Number Two was a full figured voluptuous me. I've got nothing against Rubenesque women. I rather find them attractive, but I don't think I wanted to be one.
Number three was a tall body builder feminine me that lived up to the name Amazon.
Number Four, the last was a tall slim super model woman which looked strange with my face feminized or not.
“Place your votes now.” He directed, as he turned back to me.
“Do you have a preference, Gene?” Damon asked, with a sneer knowing this choice would change me and my life.
“If I had my way there would be another category none of the above.” I laughed attempting not to go into hysterics. “Based on that I do like a certain Amazonian warrior, I'm going to have to go with number three. It will make my next convention very interesting.”
A ringing chime sound signaling the voting was over.
“Show us the results please.” Damon looked up at the holo's.
Only two went out leaving the Dancer and the Amazon. I felt faint, but, hey, I'd real good reason!
“And we have our first tie!” The MC for the first time to day sounded surprise. “Svelte delights and Amazonian Fruits are tied. This should be interesting. Ladies and Gentlemen I give you the Svelte Amazon!”
The two holo's merged together and I felt myself grow numb all over starting with where those damn wrist bands were.
'Shit,' I knew I'd been nerve blocked so I didn't end up on the floor screaming as the damn mini-machines tore me apart and put me back together again, but not as I wanted or desired.
I saw the rest of the world growing larger. It was me who was really getting smaller. Muscles and mass that I'd spent years growing and developing melted away as the nanites devoured them converting it into fuel not only for this transformation, but for those to come. After this was over, I was going to have damn little mass to spare for anything.
A tingling let me know it was over, but damn if I didn't lose five or six inches of height. Since I was a bit under tall for a guy at five-ten, I had to be around five-five or four.
Fighting for calm I looked up at the holo that was now a real time display of me now. That white catsuit showed the Dancer, but one looked as if she did some moderate to serious body building too. Hell, she even had a nicely defined six pack.
I couldn't help but touch my taut stomach to see if it was real.
“Well, that's one way to get into shape.” It almost hurt making myself smile. Playing to the audience was my only chance to come out of this with even a part of my inner self intact. “I don't think I'll recommend it to the guys at the gym though.”
Now that got a huge laugh out of everyone!
Calm, I breathed in, I breathed out. My body wasn't really female yet, it was more like a doll's at this point primed for more changes to come than being pre-puberty as in nature.
However, there was still the disturbing feeling that I was no longer me.
Calm, breathe in, breathe out, Fear is the mind-killer.
I would do this! No Demon Lord and his Pit Fiend was going to get the best of me.
Royals and Serfs
The Accountant
That tie had been unexpected.
However, his planned end 'product' was still on track which was all that counted in the end. Checking the telemetry again, even with the first change which was a pretty major one, Aldric was still staying fairly calm.
On the other hand, for an older man who did indulge in the martial arts if only lightly, it shouldn't be too surprising. This Contestant knew how to meditate and concentrate on the task at hand. Perhaps the Tai-chi and Yoga the man practiced weren't combat oriented, but they did contribute to a person who kept calm during a crisis and was very reliable.
It was no wonder Aldric was regarded as a valued employee by his courier company.
The Accountant had to laugh at the thought, but the man had depths.
Let's see just how upset he could make those 'still waters.'
Chapter Eight
Royals and Serfs
Gene Aldric
“Besides those abs,” Damon put that damn arm back. “How do you feel Gene?”
“Grateful, this suit is so stretchy or I'll be trying to hold it up.” I tried to make light of this and think outside of the box. Short jokes would make people think about putting me in heels or something. Better to address it sideways.
“Oh we are too.” The MC leered at me getting a laugh from the studio audience. “Are you ready for your next case?”
“Sure,” I forced that smile again as I lied my ass off. Hell no, I wasn't ready! “Case number 14, Damon.”
“Case 14, Lana!” He yelled out.
A Trumpet proclaimed, I'd found some more Crowns! Yay, me!
“You now have 700 crowns on the board.” Damon gave me the total. “Only 9,300 to go to win!”
I kept my mouth shut that I really only needed 4.300 to go free. Let's not upset the dealer or Demon Lord.
“Next case please, Gene.” He said, turning to watch the stage.
“Case number five.” I picked, knowing things were really heating up.
Clanking chains were not what I wanted to hear.
“Another link in the chain!” Damon shouted out making me want to stop up my ear.
“And the category is Faces,” The MC listed choices as the holo lit up again.
1) Irish eyes are smiling
2) Pink is my favorite color
3) Elves aren't just for Christmas
4) The Hearts have it!
Looking up at the Holo, Number One had me pretty much as I was, red headed even if my hair was more iron colored than red because of my age. The freckles where more like designed beauty marks than random, and this me had very green eyes instead of my hazels.
The next had the Barbie me. I mean, seriously just no! My same face, but with way too pink puffy lips, pink eye shadow, and blush.
The third was the one I'm thinking they were trying to implement. The diamond shaped face with the tilted eyes and elegantly pointed ears said it all. How they put those features together so they looked classy and pixie cute I have no idea.
The last one answered the third's question. The heart shaped face was just so damn cute I felt like I was having an allergic reaction to the sweetness.
“Seeing anything you like?” Damon leered again.
Did he have any other facial expressions? Leer and smirks just doesn't do it!
“Two and four don't do anything for me, and I like number three, but not on me.” I tried some reverse psychology. Dismissing those two out of hand like they don't matter might protect me while they might not buy I want to be not human. “Number one, I think. It's not too unlike me now and at least I'll recognize myself in the mirror.”
“Interesting choice.” He nodded. “But three would make going to those cons you like a lot of fun.”
The bells sounded ending the voting.
“And the winner is...” We all looked up.
I wanted to so badly to close my eyes, but I dare not alienate or worse 'inspire' the voters.
Two and four disappeared. Don't freak out, don't freak out, I struggled with my feelings.
“We have another tie!” He was amazed this time and I think the crowd went wild.
Me, I just tried not to pass out!
“The winner is Irish Elves Are Smiling!” He ran the two categories together.
My face went numb. Well at least that will help all the pains from my strained smiles.
Staring at the holo's everything went blurry as my eyes changed, then leaped into focus my vision sharper than ever before. Somewhat the same way, the noise faded to almost nothing and then it got loud, really loud.
“Ouch!” I winced putting my hands over my ears and found more ear there than normal. “Well, I guess I can put my Vulcan Ears up for sale.”
That got another laugh from everyone, even if it was making my new ears ring. It was about then I notice my nose had gotten a bit more sensitive as well. Thankfully it wasn't hurting like my poor eardrums.
Seeing the girl with her hands over her ears, I had some trouble seeing her as me.
'Time enough for counting when the dealings done,' I reminded myself. There was a game to play.
Calming a bit, 'my' hair was as red as when I was young if rather sparse since I hadn't gotten to the hair category yet. The tilted eyes weren't exactly cat or Asian eyes, but were similar and were exotic. Of course 'she' had perfect skin which was very unlike my old acne pock marked face from my teenage years.
That bought up that while Darlene looked like she was in her late twenties, I, my, face anyways looked as if I was barely out of my teens, 20 maybe.
“Damon,” My voice was low so I actually had to get closer to the Pit Fiend. “These are very sensitive. Could I please have some kind of hearing suppression, plugs maybe?”
He merely nodded at someone back stage who quickly returned with a pair of plugs. I nodded and gave an actual smile as I took them. That made me aware of how sensitive to even touch my new ears were. It figured they would be erogenous zones, argh!
As the overwhelming sound dampened I felt like sighing in relief. Well, at least they weren't Warcraft Elf ears that were as long as a donkeys'! Oh, and don't say that to a player of one of those. They do get offended.
“Is that better, Gene.” Damon hammed it up again. “You certainly won't need hearing aids.”
“As a matter of fact,” I replied, repressing the wince as my traitorous ears actually swiveled towards him. “I was heading that way, but as you say not now. So another case? Give me a low number, Three.”
Royal or Serf
Darlene Franklin
She had to sit on her hand to keep from nervously gnawing on her nails or a curl of hair. If she was a smoker, she would've finished a pack, no a carton by now. Her Gene shaped friend was now more like-Tauriel shaped.
She even had the red hair, damn it! Okay, it was in the close cropped haircut like from their Army days, but it was all red with no gray or that faded iron color. All in all Gene was a dish.
That Ass of an MC did have it right. The con goers would love her, ears and all.
However what worried her were these damn ties! The picks so far had worked out all right for the most part. Going out in public with those ears might be a problem so Gene had better get used to hats, but in some of the categories to come, ties would be a very bad thing.
“Hang in there Gene!” Darlene prayed.
Chapter Nine
Royal or Serf
Gene Aldric
“You heard, Gene!” Damon directed. “Show us case number Three, Lana!”
Trumpets sang out, as the case had 700 crowns inside.
“Congratulations, Gene!” Damon put that damn arm back making me all too aware I was shorter now. “You're at 1400 Crowns and at half way through the first round. That's not bad at all, right on the average.”
“That's good.” I pushed out a smile again. What he was not saying was that there was really only 12 crown cases and 16 chains because of the two 'freebies.' Of course they shifted the odds in favor of the House as any gambler worth his salt would tell you.
“Your next case.” Damon urged me.
“Case 6.” I answered.
“Lana, number 6.” Damon called out.
Trumpets pealed, but I sighed seeing the one single crown symbol. Well, at least it wasn't another of those damn links!
“It is one less crown you need to win.” That arm was around me again!
“Yes, it is.” I nodded. “Let's move on to case 19.”
I watched the leggy blonde move to the case, breathing easier as trumpets sounded, but disappointed all at once.
“One hundred crowns,” He pretended to share my sorrow. “It's more than the last one.”
“Each one is one more closer to winning.” I noticed I was talking softer because of my ears. “Case 16, please.”
“Number 16, Lana. “ Damon was watching me.
We both knew another of those damn chain cases was due. I hated when I was right!
“It's you third link case, Gene.” Damon announced. “The category is lips!”
Awe crap! That's not good. Please Lady Luck, no more ties!
“The Choices are:
1) Luscious Kissers
2) Come Hither Pout
3) Cupid Bows
4) Bee Stung Wonders
“Please cast your votes now.” Damon stepped beside me as I stared at the holos.
The first one had me with very full, but just short of Angelia lips. I might be able to live with those even if I thought they weren't right for that face.
The second were the perhaps even fuller than that actress renown for her full lips. Definitely too big for 'that' face.
The Cupid Bows didn't make them look bigger but they sure changed the shape with very well defined, well, bows. I could deal with those, I think.
The last spoke for themselves. They were collagen inflated pillows that made me wonder if the poor girl with those could still talk. Just no, no, no!
“So what do you think, Gene?” Damon asked as the audience voted.
“Seriously I think the audience are geniuses. I had my doubt at this elf thing, but the Irish and it mixed together really well. I'm not too sure if any of those would work with it. Number Three with the bows, I think. Perhaps Number One, but those might be too full.”
“Nice analysis.” He nodded sagely as the voting ended with the chimes. “What does our audience think?”
It took more willpower than I'd ever used before not to just resist closing my eyes, but covering them completely.
Once again two holo's vanished leaving two behind.
“We have yet another tie!” His eyes were wide and even with the ear plugs I had to cover my ears when everyone went nuts! “Luscious Bows!”
The two holo's merged like a morph of days gone by. My lips went numb, but I could feel the skin of my face being pulled and reshaped as my lips changed.
They were kinda like Taylor Swift or Jessica Biel's when they'd been in their prime. The darn things were also damn soft because that much was obvious just from pressing them together. Add in the tingle from just doing that and I had the feeling that Luscious Kissers didn't just mean full lips.
The overall look wasn't the blonde bomb bimbo of poor Lana, but I looked exotic as all get out with my green slanted eyes and those lips in spite of my short hair. At least the bows didn't make them look too out-sized for me, but I think that could be debatable.
Forcing my eyes away, I focused on the important thing here staying me. What I looked like meant nothing. I'd learned that from Darlene. Appearance can be dealt with, but if they start messing with the gray matter it was a whole other ballgame.
“You look a little stunned.” Damon must smell blood in the water.
“I rather think astonished is more like it.” Stay outside the box, and stay calm, I schooled myself. I could've very well had gotten the other two choices which wouldn't had been good at all. “The people here amaze me. I mean I didn't desire any of this, but look at me! This is has got to be making fantasy artists all over the world jealous and it's the people out there as well as the nanotechs who did it. I mean wow!”
That worked as long as I looked at this woman from an artistic view point. At least this way I could attempt and be genuine in my praise.
Damon looked surprised again, but when he began clapping the whole place joined him. This time I smiled and just took the pain of the noise through the plugs.
“You're one in a thousand contestant.” This time he hugged my shoulders. “But we must be moving on. Your next case?
I nodded looking at the stage.
The Masters' Chambers
The Inner Circle
“What is this?” Alpha was spitting mad. “The Bitch looks more like an actress than being punished!”
“It's still early in the game.” Beta took a sip on his wine. “Believe me things will change.”
“The way she's charming the sheeple?” Alpha scoffed. “She'll end up winning the damn game!”
“You're upset you're not seeing immediate results.” Delta tried to smooth the tempers. “As Beta said, the more interesting changes are yet to come. However, I do admit I wouldn't mind seeing a template made of the transformations we've already seen. As she said, they are quite attractive.”
Alpha sputtered unable to speak.
“It's called disassociation.” Epsilon finally spoke. “Even you should be able to tell by the telemetry that looking so differently is having an effect. For men whose identity is based on their appearance this can have a profound effect.
“I judge if she makes it to the second round, she will need to be sedated as allowed by the game's rules.” The only woman in the Inner Circle explained. “Then she can be led to wherever we want.”
“She's picking her next case.” Beta glared at them all. He wanted to see this!
Chapter Ten
Royals or Serfs
Gene Aldric
“Number 18.” I noticed even my forced smiles felt kinda pleasant with that damn tingling!
“Lana, if you please.” Damon still didn't let go of me.
Clinking metal turned that smile into a frown.
“Oh no.” He gave me a squeeze. “Your first link case back to back.”
The holo's appeared overhead.
“The category is hair and the choices are:
1) Golden Mane
2) Calling all Pages
3) Back in Black
4) Spiked Pixie Attitude.
“Please cast your votes now.” Damon instructed.
Me, I was watching hair, a lot of hair.
One had me with this huge blonde mass of hair that calling it 'big' hair like from the '80's and 90's just didn't do it justice. It was just too, well, too.
Next was the pageboy thing. To me it looked cute, but I can honestly say I know squat about women's hair styles except what I soaked up from being near Darlene and the really popular cultural thing in passing.
The Back in Black was almost as thick as that Blonde Lion's Mane thing, but more of flowing waves that reached all the way down the holo's back. It looked kinda sexy, but that much hair had to weigh a ton and be a pain to deal with, so no.
The last one struck me as being punkish with the hair cut very short on the sides that I guess was a pixie cut, but teased into metallic silver spikes on top. It was interesting looking, but again I thought it didn't really fit me or that face. That's not even saying how much such a cut made my new ears very visible which was probably the point.
“So Gene,” The MC asked, miracles of miracles and not with a sneer. “What do you think?”
“Well, Number One is just too much and wouldn't go well with these.” I pointed to my freckles. “Number Three reminds of some of the really sexy actresses back when I was a kid, but that black I'm afraid is just too much despite there being such a thing as Black Irish.
“The spikes certain is edgy, but again I don't think matches up with everything else.” I was not going to mention the ears sticking out because that would be just daring them to pick that! “That leaves the pageboy thing which I think is the best pick of these. It seems to frame my face well and since it's the same color as my current hair, it works pretty well.”
He put on a considering face obviously buying time till the voting over bell rang which it did right on cue.
“Let's see if our audience agrees.” Damon waved up at the holo's.
Once again two of the holo's winked out, leaving the pageboy and the back to black.
“We have another tie!” Damon looked as if he was totally shocked. “Calling Back in Black Pages!”
“How is that going to work?” I felt like hiding, but it was far too late for that. Those were contradictory choices, right?
My scalp kinda not exactly itched, but maybe a frisson, like a electricity like feeling running all over my head.
The two holo's integrated together. The long flowing black locks shortened while the red page cut grew longer. They sorta interweaved together, being mostly red, but I had black stripes now. Two long dark curls framed my face while a few other of the black curled and spiraled about my red waves.
It all ended up bouncing on my shoulders going maybe just a bit further down my back.
I found myself lifting one of the pair of straight silky black strips that framed my face. So this is what shock feels like, as I pull gently on it to see if it was really attached. Did they somehow sneak in Olivia or one of the other famous fantasy artists in here?
I have to say something. They had to have positive reinforcement for me not ending up with that blonde nightmare of big hair or silver spikes. It might had been a favorite of rockers, but it'd never really been mine.
Hey, rock and roll?
“You people so rock!” I dropped the black lock watching in the holo as it fell perfectly back into place. “I'm almost afraid what you'll come up with next, but whatever it is I think it'll be beyond what my generation used to call 'so cool!'”
Damon started clapping again until the place rang with noise. Play the game, Gene, play for your life.
Royals or Serfs
The Accountant
At one point he was on the very edge of calling the Inner Circle and 'requesting' they stop this damn tie thing they had to be responsible for causing. Two were one thing, but three?
However, the pageboy red and black changed his mind. For one thing, his plans were preceding more or less in the direction he wanted. He wanted an Elf, well she was cooking along just fine.
Another was he recognized art when he saw it. MC3 must be contributing a considerable amount of its processing power to make these ties turn out so successfully. Perhaps it was just the choices or some synergy that was working together just right, but his Elf was turning into a very exotic creation.
Yet more reasons were just how Gene Aldric had kept himself from melting down and had charmed the audience. Instead of the usual misogynistic bunch intent on humiliating and destroying their victim for once they were caught up as much as he was in just what their votes were creating.
Any gambler knew that when you were riding the luck, you did not get off till it was over unless you were a complete and utter fool. The Accountant most certainly was not.
Chapter Eleven
Royals and Serfs
Gene aldric
“A case please.” Damon got the showing rolling again.
“Twenty-six,” I scanned the remaining boxes. Stay calm, breathe in, breathe out.
Lana posed as she opened the lid to trumpet thankful announcing 800 crowns.
“It's a Crown case!” The MC took me by the shoulders again. “Your total on the board is now 2301!”
“Okay, let's try case 28.” I ignored my weariness dipping into whatever reserves I had. The stress and excitement were taking their toll.
The smiling blonde however, seemed to have energy to spare as she went to open my selected case.
Trumpets rang out again, but only 200 crowns.
“You're at 2501, Gene.” Damon hugged my shoulders. “And that's the end of Round One! You're a quarter of the way!”
“We're taking a commercial break and will be back with The Accountant's first offer!” The MC declared. “Stay tuned.”
“Don't fall apart.” Damon whispered into my ear after we were off the air. “This episode is going to be golden.”
“Never say die.” I whispered back.
“That's my girl.” And he walked off backstage with me still wanting to kick him between the goal posts so very badly.
I guess I must've been doing something right when that same assistant lead me to a chair and another bottle of water. Wanting to gulp it down, I took small sips washing it around in my mouth until it was clear.
I managed to give Darlene another reassuring nod, but this time there was enough other people in the audience trying to get my attention, I felt it was safe enough to risk giving her a smile. Damn, but it was going to take time getting used to those darn lips of mine when that smile really felt good.
Looking up at the that darkened booth I had the feeling he was watching me. The odds were his coming offer wasn't going to be worth taking. On the other hand, I had done very well even if I had missed the high value crown cases. I'd gotten just over half of them leaving six. However, the 10 Slave cases were the very ones I did not want under any circumstances. That meant almost two bad picks to every one that might be enough to free me.
The way the odds were treating me tonight I was looking at four to six more changes putting me well into the territory where they would begin messing with my gray matter.
A wave at the stands showed the concession folks were doing hot business. Happy, excited people bought more stuff. There was a decent chance I could survive this and still be more or less me.
“Bathroom break.” The assistant got my attention. “You may not feel it, but you should go. This way please.”
Nodding, I wondered if this was some kind of trap, but really why bother. They had me just where they wanted me. Besides with the way, my poor body had been torn apart and remodeled it was likely that I wasn't used to all the signals yet.
“You're Rose?” I saw the name tag on her blouse. “Thank you for your help.”
“You're welcome.” She had the same sculptured beauty that most of the other women I'd seen here, but she had much more awareness in her eyes. “The nano-machines are mostly taking care of all of your waste products, but there are still some residue from the transformations that even they can't process.”
She opened the door to the private restroom.
“This will open up access so you can pee.” Holding up a pen-like instrument, Rose apologized, “Sorry, but this is best done by someone else.”
“No problem,” I nodded, looking straight ahead. “Do what you need to do.”
There was a bit of pressure as she ran the thing like zipper down the area normally covered by my boxers. Rose gave a embarrassment saving nod that she was finished.
“Thanks,” I backed into the stall, not sure what to expect. For one I was still male, kinda. My once proud manhood had regressed back to how it was during my childhood and my accompanying testes were missing in action.
I half expected my discharge to burn, but while that near bright orange color was not normal, it did not hurt. Strangely it wasn't overly sensitive like my 'kissing' lips either. That part down there was just really soft and smooth, but not sexual in any way.
Breathe in, breathe out, calm, I took the first moments of privacy I'd enjoyed since this ordeal had begun to center myself again. Never lose focus, eyes on the ball. A little voice looked down at that slit in that white catsuit, snarking, I wish.
Okay back to reality. I had a game to play and finish.
Princess or Serf
Darlene Franklin
She was well aware of her preference of sexual partners. Feminine beauty attracted her, but what the Japanese called Bishouenen was nice too. Translated Beautiful Youthful boy, to her it meant a male who had a feminine appearance.
Frankly, her own sexual experience had been limited to failed hetero relationships as she tried to come to grips with the fact that no matter how male she might be she was a she where it really mattered, in her heart and soul.
Since then, her sex life had been limited to fantasies and an ever growing library of romance books. Ruefully, she acknowledged she'd lived up to that stereotypical audience even if she really wasn't a housewife.
Resolutely she'd decided she was going to save any experimentation until after her nano-transformation. Then that damn them to hell, Gaming Authority had set up her friend which put a hold on any such activities.
Darlene had come in here worried if she was even going to have Gene in her life anymore which was unimaginable to her. Now watching the beautiful woman right out of some of her most artistic fantasy folios, she found herself being very 'interested.'
Sure technically, on paper. If filed confidentially no less, this woman was her wife. It wasn't as if they needed another complication to this godawful mess. Additionally, while Gene had survived so far, some of the more dangerous transformations were yet to come.
“Please, please come through this okay Gene.” Darlene whispered her pray heavenward as the concession hawkers made money hand over fist among the loud noisy crowd.
Part Two of Three
The Final Chapter! When all seems darkest, that is when one has to be the strongest for that's the sign that the light is coming.
This is a work of fiction. It is loosely based on an old game show. 'Who wants to be a Millionaire. No person or place are intended on being represented in this story. I reserve the rights for the plot and story. As always, the Biggest Thanks goes to the wonderful Cathy for she made this readable.
Enjoy!
By
Grover
10/29/2017
Royal or Serf
Second Round
Gene Aldric
Back on stage after Rose had 'zipped' me back up. I guessed that this was about the half way point even if twelve was not half of twenty-eight. It was passed this point where the Links cases put the poor contestants on the way to the point of no-return.
Then it was just a short hop, skip and jump to identity death. That was a fate I hoped to avoid.
The staff and crew began hurrying back to their positions and I saw Damon come out of the Accountant's blacked-out booth.
Game on!
The lights came back up and the music soared making me thankful I'd left those plugs in. That was even more so when the audience joined in when Damon walked onto the stage.
The MC held up his arms asking for quiet.
“Welcome to Royal or Serf, Round Two.” He nodded in satisfaction. “We've had an extraordinary show with an amazing contestant. Let's have a big hand of applause for Gene Aldric!”
I waved to the audience and the cameras, smiling.
“So far Gene has opened just over half the Royal cases putting our possible Princess ahead of the odds.” Damon grinned, “However, that also means two-thirds of the Serf cases remain on stage. I must admit even I'm feeling the stress here.
“But the question all of us are asking.” He gave a dramatic pause, “Can she do it?”
The crowd thundered their excitement, making wince despite the ear plugs. However, I kept my smile and my fists unclenched. If there was ever a time as my old crusty Army Sergeant Seymour use to say 'Stay Frosty' it was right now. Don't get excited, get ice cold sharp and don't miss a damn thing because it could and would kill you.
Breathe in, breathe out, remain calm.
“How are you holding up, Gene?” He intrusively put his arm around my shoulders yet again.
“I'm hanging in there, Damon.” My darn too soft near titillating lips almost made that smile genuine. “This has been an unforgettable experience, but I'm determined to play this through not just for myself, but for all of you out there who have helped me.
“Thanks!” I waved at everyone making sure I caught Darlene's eye as it got noisy again.
“We have a game to play,” Damon pointed up at the booth. “But first we have our first offer from The Accountant!”
The holo above us stopped displaying the show's marquee. Five thousand crowns in gold letters appeared with six links in a chain underneath.
“Gene,” Damon pulled me close again. “He's offering enough Crowns to buy your freedom if you accept six link cases of his choice.”
Breathe in, breathe out. He was offering me nothing because that was the worst possible odds results. Really not surprised because he wanted me to keep playing.
Even the audience figured that out as they began shouting, “NO DEAL, NO DEAL.”
“Damon,” I shook my head, “I think I'm going to have to go with them.” I nodded at the shouting assemblage. “No Deal!”
“You heard the lady.” He turned as the stage lights for the cases came up. “Let's play!”
“Case Number Seven,” Facing the stage, I was repeating my mantra over and over again.
Lana opening that case as chains rattled was likely going to haunt my nightmares assuming I had enough brains left to have understand what I was dreaming.
“We have a Serf case.” He really didn't have to say. “The category is genitals and the choices are:
1)Feel like a natural Woman
2)Wild Thing
3)All the options
4)Dolls are beautiful
“Please cast your votes now.”
My heart sank like a torpedoed ship.
The first holo showed a me in a bikini sporting a very obvious camel-toe. I had to assume from that and the title that meant being fully female.
The next one was dressed in a one piece swimsuit who obviously still was male from the bulge. Okay, I really didn't want to lose that part of me, but at the same time I didn't particularly want to be, well, abnormal, was probably the best word. My looking so like an elf was going to make me stand out enough as it was.
The third was also in an one piece, but it took me longer to puzzle out what I was seeing. This me was still male if not as obviously so, but there was something else as well. I know I made a face when I figured out what the title meant and realized this one was a fully functioning hermaphrodite, male and female. No, that would really make me stand out even more than the second.
The fourth was back in the bikini, but was absolutely smooth down there, sexless. Okay that was not good, at all! With my darn luscious lips I think I could figure out how I was expected to experience sex. Thank you but hell no!
“I can see this one is going to be difficult for you, Gene?” Damon hugged my shoulders again. “Your thoughts?”
“I think you're right about that, Damon.” Hopefully my voice stayed level and calm. “My first impressions were A, B, C all the above, or D none of the above.”
“I do like how you simplify things.” He laughed, “Do you have a preference?”
“This is very hard since I think a great number of us use this as how we see and define ourselves.” Stating that me was trying to buy me time to think. This would affect my brains even if it didn't act like some of the other mental changes. “I would hate to lose what I was born with because I don't know of any guy who sees himself as a guy who would want to.
“On the other hand, I can accept, at least intellectually, that if that happens I'm going to find fitting in more difficult.” I shrugged letting my real feelings show a little. Even in this day and age of nanotech, there were issues with just who got to use what public restroom. “The all the above is just the same thing as far as adjusting to all of this. However, the last one, is the worst of them all. That completely removes a person from being part of the miracle of life. I know of people who can't have children and adopt or find other means of having families, but that is an option I would never voluntarily chose.
“I guess I'm saying, I just don't know.” Please let me not be making a mistake by telling the truth here. “The folks here tonight and those watching have done right by me so far. So I'm going to trust you all out there to make the decision for me.”
“That's very brave of you.” He looked stunned although, Damon did cover it up well like the professional he was.
The bell rang.
“Please show us the winner.” He pointed at the holos above.
All the holo disappeared but one of those in the one piece. It was all the above.
My entire loin and lower tummy went numb. I honesty had no idea how or what to feel, besides shocked.
There was a vague feeling of movement inside me which I could make some good guesses as to what. A mild warmth flowed down there. The live holo of me showed a somewhat more prominent bulge than the holo promised, being about the same as 'Wild Thing.' The mons-pubis behind it was well developed too, which felt more than a little strange because I could 'feel' the pressure of the snug catsuit back there.
I wasn't sure, but I think my hips may had expanded some as well during that internal rearrangement. Honestly, I was too stunned at the other changes to really pay attention. Yeah, a case of watching the trees and not seeing the forest grow.
“How are you?” He asked, his eyes very intent.
A flash of intuition hit me. He'd known this was coming. Like Eagle had coached me, this was the make or break where they expected to have to sedate me. Then it would be all over for me. Clear headed I might have a chance, but drugged I was a dead man or whatever I was now.
Breathe in, breathe out, stay calm. So easy to say, but so damn hard to do!
“I'm still here.” I looked up at him with my best go to hell you bastard smile. “How about case 9?”
“Lana, case 9.” He hugged me again.
That was good, but not in the way most would think. My 'irritation' with him flared which helped clear my head better than any drug.
The damn clanking chains that announced another Slave case did it's part too.
“And we have another link case.” Damon read the list. “The category is Breasts and the choices are:
1) Twin peaks
2) Natural wonders
3) Sculptured perfection
4) Valley of Paradise
Please cast your votes now.” He turned to look up at the holos.
The first holo had me back in the catsuit and projected a me with breasts that looked rather generous, but not over-sized. On the other hand, her nipples were very prominent and visible. Sure this catsuit showed everything, but this was more than that. Maybe those wouldn't be comfortable, but at least they weren't beach balls stuck on my chest.
That was answered with next one. They were bigger than than the first, but still looked as the name said, natural. Trying to see them as detached as I could, they were too large for a svelte Amazon.
The next was a pair of perfect spheres that perhaps size wise fit on that body better, but with the Amazons muscles still seem out of place.
The last was a damn big pair of hooters! There was cleavage galore and I feared horrible back pains. They were just too damn large.
“What do you think, Gene?” He draped that arm over me again.
“The first one looks like it might be awkward with them poking out like that.” I couldn't think of a more diplomatic way to say it. “The next holo looks fairly nice, but maybe a bit large for a body that slim.
“The thirds are so round that they almost look like just another set of muscles. Their size seems better, but still doesn't strike me as being very good.” I critiqued what I saw.
“I know a lot of guys are breast men, but those just spoil things.” I shook my head. This had to be done carefully. I knew what kind of changes the girls here usually got. “It's like putting huge off road tires and a bush guard on a sports car. It just doesn't work.”
“Do you have a preference this time or are you going to trust the audience again?” He asked.
“No insult to anyone,” I smiled, “But I think I like Number One the best.”
I was beginning to think the bell was timed to go off just after he asks me my preferences because ring it did.
“Let's see what our audience thinks!” Damon looked up to see the results. “Show us the winner!”
Two holos went out leaving Twin Peaks and Natural Wonders.
“We have yet another tie.” His brows rose as the two holos combined. “Natural Peaks!”
As I'd learned would happen, my formerly flat chest went numb as the nanites did their work. Working on my breathing, I stared upwards at the holo which changed into my actual image again. I was 'not' going to watch my 'chest' inflate.
The natural wonders changed their shape some as the nipples rose in prominence. Me, I could 'feel' all of this happening. I had to lean back a little as my weight shifted to my front.
As much as my damn sensitive lips annoyed me, the nipples surpassed them. The embarrassment factor aside, they were damn delicate erogenous zones which let me 'feel' precisely how tight and form fitting this catsuit really was.
As they 'topped' those natural wonders, I found that they and my new equipment down below were connected. It took me some moments to not show every damn one just how much of 'All the Above' I had now.
Just how I managed to look down at, well, cleavage and not lose it, I'll never know. They most certainly looked a hell of a lot bigger on me than on the holo. Those 'peaks' just added to it all. However, I made, forced, myself to see that this was the last of the physical transformations.
What was to come was going to mess with my mind, wants and desires. My 'wonders' might be right there where I could not possibly ignore them, but they fell far short of what was to come.
Death, my death was on the line.
“How are you holding up?” Damon might've slipped a sneer back onto his face.
“Well, Damon.” I tilted my head to the side. “I'm thinking that I'll have a lot more appreciation for feminine undergarments now.”
His eyes widened just before he failed to keep his face straight and he busted out laughing. That just about caused a riot in the audience's seating as just about all of them joined him and were in danger of falling out of their seats.
Holding onto my calm and keeping my face appearing amused, was a challenge. Part of it was the humor of playing the straight man to the joke of making everyone break up, and the other was to keep myself from joining them and hysterically running out of this place.
I know he had been expecting me to freak out, which was why my humor had caught him by surprise. About the only person besides me who wasn't grasping for breath was Lana who just looked confused.
Giving a it moment's thought, I walked over to the stage displaying the cases.
“Hi, Lana,” I greeted, “I'm Gene. Sorry, but they might be a while.”
“Hi, Jean,” I blinked not really liking the feminizing of my name, but I suppose it was coming. “I really, you know, don't see what was so funny.
“I mean, like, you're not as big as me.” She jiggled her very sizable assets. “But you're still going to, like, need a really good bra. You know the guys likes to see them bouncing around, but, like, that kinda hurts.”
“That's why I said what I did.” I smiled into the vacant blue eyes. “Well, I better go back. We have a game to finish playing.”
“Okie dokie!” Lana smiled vacantly, going back to her pose.
Not trusting myself to bend, kneel, or really do anything, I stood next to the MC
“Feeling better?” I asked, sweetly. Say what you want I have role-played for years. I knew snark. “I have my next number if that helps. It's seventeen.”
“Lana,” Damon chuckled, “Case number 17, please.”
The Master's Chambers
The Inner Circle
“Now 'that' is will power.” Delta remarked. “I thought for certain he was going to break after the sex change and the tits, but 'she' even cracked a damn joke!”
“I have to agree.” Epsilon grudgingly nodded. “His history does say he'd been a role-playing gaming hobbyist for decades. That does promote a certain amount of mental flexibility and imagination. Even still, looking at the telemetry it'd been a very near thing.”
Alpha glowered silently in a huff.
“Oh stop your pouting.” Beta admonished. “These readings show that the one that angered you was punished to a hair of his sanity. It anything you should be rejoicing given the way you worship the bottom line.”
“Precisely,” Delta happily added, “The profits for this one program won't be chump change, and it'll greatly boost interest and subscriptions. If I didn't very much doubt this could be repeated, I would campaign for a format change to make this the normal fare.”
“Fat chance.” Zeta as always grunted unhappy as ever. “As a change of pace this works, but our usual bread and butter viewer desires more of a carnal display.”
“We do have to keep in mind this isn't over yet.” Beta pointed out. “If the average works out she should have enough cases to buy out without any other transformations.”
“But if it doesn't.” Alpha growled, he would still get payback, in full.
Chapter Thirteen
Princess or Serf
Jean Aldric
“And it's a crown case.” Damon proclaimed as the trumpets sounded. “Your total is now 3801!”
“That's great.” My smile stayed in place, but possibly got brighter. “Let's go with case number 12.”
“Let's see case 12, Lana.” The MC called out.
Those damn clanking chains rang through out the studio.
“Bad luck, Jean.” Damon looked up at the holo's “The category is talents.
1) As lithe as a Viper
2) She got legs
3) Looks like a Lady
4) Sings like an Angel
“Please cast your votes now.” He made a dramatic gesture.
This time instead of simply rotating to an all the round view, the images were animated this time. The first one did a slow tumbling routine that made me doubt she had any bones. I mean she was bending over all the way backwards and touching the floor with her palms!
The next me, seemed to have legs all the way up to you know where. Like in the song, she sure seemed to know how to use them as the image danced and whirled.
If the second was strutting her stuff, the third was didn't walk so much as she glided along with aplomb and poise. I had to admit to being surprised that such a 'talent' was even offered given how this show usually appealed to the lowest of the common denominator.
This me was actually singing! Color me surprised since I can't hold a tune in a bucket to save my life. I think the song was by a young pop singer that even I had to admit had a pair of lungs on her. Monique, I think was her name.
However, like I feared they all involved rewiring my brains even more than had been done already. The flexibility thing and the singing might not be so much, but since the others were, I wouldn't bet against it. At the very least my autonomic and muscle memory.
While I'd admit that for the most part these ties hadn't done badly by me, these were different. Each once would be altering some part of, well, the real inner me. Just how to get everyone to agree on one thing I hadn't a clue.
“You look deep in thought, Jean.” Damon put his arm around for about the hundredth time. “You care to share?”
“Well, Damon.” I sure hoped this worked. “These are a little different than the others so far. Being that flexible looks nice, but the second one is dancing and I'm not sure how well some parts of me will take to that now.”
I inclined my head down at my cleavage.
“The next one seems a bit too fake to be real.” I kept my wince to myself hoping trying to steer people away from that wouldn't bite me. From a few boos, I may have screwed up. Lightly, I warned myself. “The last I'm not too sure about either since singing is something I've never been the least bit good at.”
“So the only one you would pick for yourself would be 'As Lithe as a Viper?” Damon asked, raising a brow in question.
“I think so, Damon.” I tried to seem unsure. “I'm just not certain about the others.”
The end of voting bell rang.
'Let's see how sure the audience is.” He and everyone else looked up.
Not a single damn holo went out!
“We have our first four way tie since our first season!” He held onto me. “Hold tight, Jean. This can be disorienting.”
Aww hell! The world sorta faded away as mind got as fuzzy as if on powerful prescription pain-killers, leaving me blinking.
Just as quickly the misty thick headed feeling faded. Almost immediately, I notice my posture changing. It was a bunch of things I never noticed I was doing like how I was standing or slouching just a bit so not to bring too much attention to my natural peaks. That all changed.
“Jean,” The MC suggested, “Why don't you walk to the case stage and back. That will help you adjust to your new talents.”
I nodded, and took a couple of hesitant steps before getting the hang of it. Liking it was a big no. It seems this talent thing affected my subconscious and muscle memory. I moved like a graceful dancer. Even the way I swung my arms changed.
No sighing, I told myself as I turned and walked back like some fashion model. Keep smiling, and don't forget your mantra!
“So how is it?” Damon invaded my personal space once more.
“It's different.” My voice changed too? My tenor sort of sounded the same but it had more of a woman's contralto vibe now. Just great! Read the sarcasm.
“Are you ready for the next case, Gene?” He looked at the stage where over half the cases had been opened.
“Yes,” I concentrated on the task at hand ignoring my voice. “Let's start at the beginning, case number one.”
“At the beginning it is,” The MC declared, “Case One, Lana.”
Somehow I kept from fainting as those trumpets sang out!
I'd done it! But I had to pick one more case to reach the end of the round before I could quit. Please don't let this turn to crap right in my face.
“It's a Crown case!” Damon yelled out. “You have 5101 crowns on the board. You're potentially just two cases away from winning Royals and Serfs!”
The crowd got a little more nuts than before which is saying something. They and I knew there was just one more damn case in this round.
“Let's get to the end of the round first, Damon.” I smiled, tingling and all. “Case number four.”
“Lana, Case Number Four.” He didn't have to quiet everyone down.
I swear I could hear the machinery fans it was so silent except for Lana's heels clicking on the stage. It seemed like it took her an eternity to open Case four.
Trumpets sang out and to hells with it all. I gave Darlene sitting there in the front roll the biggest smile I'd ever smiled in my whole life.
“It's a Crown Case!” He threw his arms up like he'd just triumphed over great odds. “You have 6501 on the board, but there's just one more Crown case on the stage.
“It's the end of Round Two, but we have another commercial break!” He signaled the case stage lights to drop. “Stay tuned for when the Accountant makes another offer!”
“Damn girl,” Damon swore as his assistant handed him a towel. “You're going to be the death of me.
“You do realize that only very few contestants ever got this far?” He shook his head. “You really could win this damn game!”
I inclined my head at the stage with it's seven remaining cases. Six of them were bad news and the next round I had to pick four. Of course if I got the winning case the game ended right there, but the odds frankly sucked.
“Think about it.” Damon sighed, walking off stage again.
Rose came out again guiding me to a chair. Rather than collapse into it like I wanted, I sat and elegantly crossed my long legs. Even when she handed me a bottle of water, I held it differently.
This was definitely going to take some getting use to. Of course this wasn't done yet. I wouldn't consider it over until we both safely set foot back in the good ole USA. The people running this thing did not like losing.
I remembered very well that song I took for inspiration stanza that went, 'When to hold'em, when to fold'em and when to run.' We were just about at that last point. Show me the exit!
“You did it.” Rose whispered. “You really did it.”
“Not yet.” I softly replied, “It's not over till it's over.”
“You're going to continue!” She hissed, disbelievingly. “Are you crazy?”
“I'm stopping.” My smile turned grim. “If they let me. Then I'm fleeing as fast as circumstances will allow.”
“Oh,” Rose's anger disappeared. “I only wish I could go with you.”
“I don't think I dare use that word.” Shaking my head, my two toned hair swirled about my face. “They would think of some way of using it against us. That is what they do. They take your dreams, twisting and tainting them.
“However, maybe one day someone will be able to do something.” I sighed for perhaps the first time today. “Be well, be true to yourself, and keep faith with your beliefs.”
“Thanks, Gene.” She smiled, “But I think I need to get you back to the participants stage.”
“Lead on my Lady,” My voice still felt wrong the way I could feel myself making words. Did that make sense? Regardless it was time to meet with the devil himself.
Standing there, I kept up my breathing and my mantras. I think those Talents were the 'topping' of all of those other transformations. They did change me, but the Talents went further altering the way I did things. The way I moved, walked, and even talked.
After listening to Darlene try to explain how her 'condition' felt and how hormones affects men and women, I didn't want to think too much about what my All-the-above thing means in the long run. Will my thinking be like a man's? A woman's? Somewhere in-between?
However that didn't seem to be a problem so far and thankfully I'd missed anything else that could potentially modify 'how' I thought and felt. It would make it tough on anyone who knew me before this FUBAR, Fouled, Up, Beyond, All, Recognition, to 'see' me.
My body was different, as well as my body language too. My voice wasn't as much so, but it still had changed. I wondered if even Darlene who had sat here and watched it all would have a problem. Fingers were crossed real tight that she didn't because I was really depending on her help.
Just what I would do when I truly relaxed my self-control and open myself to the tidal-wave of emotion from what I'd experienced on this very long day. Scream, rage, cry, or maybe just pass out after having my body and very identity, do I dare say raped? At the very least I'd been treated very roughly although I think I kept enough of my wits about me to mitigate the worst of it.
The crew were settling down and the concession people were cleaning up more than they were selling anything. As the show's signature music began and the lights came back on, I was going to see what was going to happen next.
“Welcome back to Royal or Serf!” Damon walked out to a very excited crowd. “We have had one of the most memorable games in our history, and I think I can safely say one of our most interesting contestants.
“Jean Aldric!” The MC raised his hands for quiet. “Jean has been very lucky tonight, but has proved that she does indeed have that wisdom he spoke of at the beginning of our show.
“She had done something very few have before,” Damon gave a dramatic pause. “Here we are at the start of the third round, and she is one, just one case away from winning it all!”
After quieting the audience again, he put his arm around me yet again, damn it! Shorter I may be, but I did 'not' like that!
“Are you excited, Jean?” He asked.
“Yes, I am, Damon.” That was another of the few truths I'd spoken tonight.
“Usually,” He pointed up at the Accountant's booth, “I'd ask you if you want to continue or not. If so then The Accountant would make you an offer to keep the Royal title safe.
“However, tonight due to special circumstances He has directed me to do something different.” Damon lowered his voice making everyone listen more carefully. “You see it's come to our attention you have someone special out in the audience.”
My stomach tightened up, ready to make any gymnast jealous with the promised flips. We thought this might happen, but had little choice if they tried to drag Darlene into this.
“Ladies and Gentlemen let me introduce Jean's wife, Darlene!” Damon's eyes flashed because the bastard knew, Knew, that we had a backup plan. Just how they found out I was clueless, but damn it, they had!
“Please come join us, Darlene!” The spot lights found her and Rose, Damon's assistant, went to guide her to the stage.
The rest of the audience seemed to greatly enjoy this surprise. Unlike game shows elsewhere in the world, this one really was like a gladiatorial game with the contestants playing for their lives. That being so, family members were very rarely seen given some of the terrible if not horrible things that are done to the contestants.
Who would want to see their daughter who worked so hard to become a professional be reduced to a sexual play toy, maid or some other menial worker? It seemed like the mob took special glee in tearing down those who had rose up above them.
“Welcome Darlene!” Damon kissed her hand.
There was a spark when our eyes met. The two of us had gamed together for decades as well as being the best of friends. Despite this being one hell of a strange mess, it was like we read each others mind.
If the audience thought for a second that they were being played, they would tear us into little bloody bits.
“Easy with the new acquisitions.” I stepped to her, smiling. Over the years I'd been the subject of a great many of her hugs. Years ago, at first it was strange being hugged, by my 'guy' best friend, but I got over it. Nothing was harmed and honestly sometimes we all need hugs.
Just how we managed that cutesy holding hands behind our backs thing, I haven't a clue. Maybe that lithe talent of mine had something to do with it. Regardless that sideways hug which avoided squeezing my 'natural peaks' did feel 'much' better than the 'mauling' Damon had been giving me.
It simply felt natural to lay my head on her shoulder.
“Aw, isn't that sweet.” The MC just had to spoil the moment, but it was a wake up call too. This wasn't over yet.
“So why did you two hide your marriage?” He probed. “Why get married in Boston?”
“Our home state still doesn't allow same sex marriages.” I kept to the bare bones cover story we had if plan B, the backup plan had proved to be necessary.
“Although the nanotechs here fixed that problem.” Darlene continued on. “I still haven't had that certified by an approved doctor and signed of by a judge.”
“Boston was so if something did happen during our cruise,” I made a point of smiling up into her eyes. It was so strange with her being taller than me, but it felt great being held. “I would count as her spouse under international law even if our home state didn't.”
“And visa-versa, Dear.” When did her eyes get so beautiful? “Men,” Darlene rolled her eyes.
“I may or may not have that problem any more, Love.” If she can drop a cute endearment so can I!
That didn't have everyone rolling in the aisle again, but there was a lot chuckling!
“Alright you two.” Damon laughed, pointing up at the booth and then the holo tank. “I think the Accountant has an offer.”
“He knows you have enough Crowns to pay off your legal debt to society.” The MC continued. “However, if you go on to the next round he'll give you not one but two tokens to ignore two Serf cases of your choice. You can accept the transformation or decline it in any order you desire after the category is announced but before the actual choices are listed.
“That effectively takes two link cases out of play.” Damon explained as the case stage lights came up. “No one knows which cases are which, but that changes the odds of finding the last Royal case to One in Five from One in Seven.
“I imagine you both would like to discuss this.” He stepped away offering at least the illusion of privacy even if we had a half dozen cameras on us as well as before a sizable audience listening to every word.
Well they were getting their money's worth because Darlene had the same 'Oh Shit!' expression I'm sure I had. One thing I knew for sure was this was 'a no way Jose' deal.
Reading each other's mind again, we both knew we needed to make this good. After all the best role-play sessions is a lot like on stage improv.
“It's one in five, twenty percent, Love.” I played the Devil's advocate's role in dramatic whispers. “No one knows just what being a Royal really means, but we could find out!”
“That means four to one odds that you'll get another link case too!” She always did enjoy getting into character. “I loved you as you were, and I love as you are, but excuse me, if you're going to pick up a fetish, an imposed accent or some other compulsion, I'm going to be one making that decision!”
“But we would be able to ignore the bad ones!” I tried the puppy dog eyes, but given I wasn't sure just how that looked with my new looks, that must have been rather funny since a lot of people laughed.
“Maybe you haven't been keeping track of your cases.” Darlene's eyes narrowed, “I've been sitting there on my hands to keep from biting my nails and counting each and every one. There aren't any harmless cases sitting there. All of them modify behavior which, Dear, is my job!”
“Yes, my Love.” I sighed, which got more laughs.
“We've made our decision, Damon.” We walked over to him.
“We have to decline the Accountant's kind offer.” I kept glancing at my friend as if checking for her approval. “Really I guess it is for the best. After all I'm here to pay that debt. It really wouldn't be fair to all the others who has voluntarily played. Far better to leave it to one of those to win that honor in the future.”
“Are you sure?” Damon asked, looking at the both of us.
Without thinking about it we reached for each other's hands. “We're sure.”
“To buy your freedom, it costs Five thousand crowns.” The board showed the cost as the MC directed. “That leaves you with, after converting to Francs, 13,005.
“However I know the audience here and at home has got to be as curious as I.”
“Just what woulld've been your next case?” He pulled both of us close to him.
“I was thinking of eight.” My eyes stayed on Darlene.
“Lana, what would've case would've been?” Damon asked.
A clinking chain answered that question.
“That category would've been Habits,” He nodded, “And the next?”
“Seventeen,” I couldn't get enough of Darlene's smile.
More chains rattled, as Lana opened that case.
“This one would've been vocabulary.” Damon raised a brow as both I and Darlene winced.
“I like my husband's voice just the way it is even if it does sound like he's had years of voice training.” My friend, my wife?, explained.
“Your third case?” He moved things along.
“Twenty-five,” I really just wanted to get out of here!
The chains clanged again.
“And that category would've been fashion and style.” Damon nodded, “Being the third you would've been out of your get-out-of-jail token and would've had to take it.”
“I think we might've taken the Habit case,” I disagreed with him, “But not the Vocabulary one. I'm not sure about the dress style.”
“We would've blocked that one.” Darlene answered. “Both that and vocabulary changes too much about 'how' one thinks. I wouldn't want that for us.”
“And the last case of the round?” Damon smiled. “What would've that been?”
“Two,” Thank god this was almost over!
More rattling chains confirmed that continuing playing would've been just stupid.
“This one would've been voice accents.” Damon grinned at Darlene“And we know how you feel about that!”
“Of course, Dear.” I gave her my biggest smile, “You were right. Going on would've been a bad thing.”
“Maybe not bad, but not good either.” She corrected me to more laughs from everyone. “More changes and still no prize.”
“You should listen to her.” Damon laughed. “She's a smart one!
“And that's it people!” He raised his hands. “Her debt is paid and she still gets to walk out with a nice piece of change, sounds like a win to me!”
“Me too.” I held on to my friend's hand as the balloons dropped and the holo display above us lit up with fake fireworks.
“Have a happy honeymoon!” Damon waved bye as we were ushered off stage as the balloons swirled around us the music blasted making me cover my poor elf ears again.
I so wanted to ask what the hell was going on. They should've been much harder on us. I was expecting them to force Darlene to play perhaps by taking a link case for me or maybe something worst.
She put a finger on my lips, knowing some of the questions that was thundering around inside my head. Instead she lightly hugged me understanding that I was running on the ragged edge, but this was not the place to reveal anything at all.
Rose guided us to Wardrobe where they peeled me out of that darn catsuit. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised they had a complete set of clothes for me in my new sizes whatever they were. Maybe they had one of those auto-tailors I've heard about that you just put in the sizes and style and away it goes. This being a cutting edge production studio it was very possible.
The corset like top and green tights with ankle boots definitely were pushing the elf image. I suppose I should be very grateful that I brought my freedom before I picked up any makeup or other dress up compulsions. Darlene did step in and make sure my 'peaks' were properly protected. I guess they weren't extremely sensitive, but I was very aware of them. For that matter they sure weren't small or dainty either.
After that, two techs came by and officially removed those damn transforming nano cuffs. The nanotechnology devices were turned over to the two suited goons that had 'escorted' me here. As they shut the things in a padded case, my only thought was good riddance.
“Your nanites are going to still be active for anywhere between 12 to 24 hours as they stabilize your changes and begin to shut down.” The techs told us as well as got us to sign paperwork saying the same thing.
We knew that was important because until those damn things turned themselves off we couldn't leave. That was a problem because our damn cruise ship was going to leave without us. Fortunately, another of my friend's host of contacts were able to get if not a refund, a voucher of sorts that would let us fly out at reduced cost.
As far as I was concerned once I got to our hotel, I wasn't moving until it was time to for this birdie to beat wings for home.
“You also.” The tech continued, “Need to drink as many liquids as you can stand. Water is good, but juices are better. The nanites used up a lot of minerals and other vital nutrients. They will all help wash the remaining nanites away, but it's most effective right now. You do need to eat small portions of meat and vegetables, four maybe five times a day. No pigging out with big meals, but very small ones. That'll power the ones that left and replenish everything they used up to change you so fast in front of everyone.”
“And no alcohol!” The other guy warned. “That reduces the oxygen in your blood stream and that would not be good for all that the nanos can use it very easily for fuel. You did have some mental changes and the last thing you want is for the remaining machines up there to cannibalize parts of your brain.”
“I don't think that will be a problem,” I saw Darlene's glare.
“It's the same instructions I got from my nanotechs, but only more so.” She summed it up.
“Exactly.” The senior man nodded, gathering up the paperwork. “You two did good out there so please get home in one piece.”
We both just nodded.
“Get ready,” Rose warned as we left there and went to the door. “There's going to be a short publicity shoot as they hand you your prize check and walking papers.”
“Oh Joy,” I whispered dryly. The way I moved or just stood seemed more obvious when I was with Darlene. We'd been friends for so long we kind of adjusted flawlessly to each, the way close partners do in the police or as we were in the service despite not being in combat arms. My new poise threw that off a little, but already we were relearning so we didn't bump into the other or anything.
The lights and cameras as the doors opened weren't nice, but it was over quicker than I expected. Damon had his picture taken with me and then the both of us as well as this guy Darlene said tried to make pressure her, a Mr. Perez.
More pictures as I was handed a check and my paid-in-full paperwork for my legal problem. I made myself wave as we were herded into a limo to take us to our hotel. Only it wasn't 'our;' hotel, but another much more upscale with a honeymoon suit.
Yet more pictures as we were checked in, and finally to our room where all of our stuff had been moved to. Not that any of it was much use to me. My boxers would not come close to fitting any more and I wasn't sure about my razor. Maybe just my toothbrush would be useful of all of my stuff.
As a courier, I did tend to travel light.
A dining cart was sitting in the room and I fell on it like a starving wolf even if I did it 'Like a Lady.' It was as if I didn't realize just how hungry or thirsty I was until it was in front of me, exhausted or not.
Through it all my friend just sat close next to me.
I didn't eat as much as I expected, but that was the small meal thing that I'd been told.
“How did they find out?” That Lady thing had me dabbing at my mouth instead of my usual wiping.
“I don't know.” Darlene shook her head. “The papers were all inserted, but that shouldn't have raised any flags. The only thing I can think of is the obvious. They had your cell bugged which we kind of suspected anyways.”
“It was too much to ask for to have them obey their own rules.” I sighed, observing that made my newly acquired parts jiggle. “Big people and little people, I reckon. Those with the power make or break whatever rules they want.”
“Could be that computer here broke the encryption we were using to talk to Eagle.” Darlene countered leaning into me.
“That or maybe both.” I let her. It felt nice and I knew I was about to well, react.
“So, we're married, huh?” My voice sound so small. I think I was very worried about her rejecting me and what had been done to me. The irony that this was likely how she felt when first telling me that she was Darlene and was now transitioning weren't lost on me.
“I guess we are.” My friend sounded just as unsure as me.
“Then hugs please?” I just had to let her make the first move. Even as I looked now, I suppose I had to be the gentleman.
“Always.” As her warmth closed about me, my tears began.
“Excuse me as I cry a bit.” I felt choked up. “I don't think I can stop it.”
“Cry away, Dear.” Arms tightened protectively about me. “Cry away, I'm here, I'll always be here.”
All the feelings and emotions so full of fear, angry, and so many other things I'd never be able to sort them all out, flooded me. It might not be the manly thing to do, but when faced between going crazy and crying I know which one I'd choose. Besides like I'd thought about earlier, god only knew how hormones ran in this 'All the above' body of mine now.
Sobbing my heart out, I guess I went to sleep, but honestly with her holding me and gently stoking my head, I wouldn't have it any other way.
The Accountant
Everything had not gone precisely to plan, but it rarely did. With any game there was the element of luck and truth be told Elf had played well. Despite brushing the edge a few times, she well and fully understood that keeping the audience happy was the difference between walking out with her wife or being the exotic ever efficient assistant role he'd wanted for her.
She didn't know that, but if she had stayed true to the choices she might've made, it was nearly a sure thing in the following round. He had tempted her, but without having her judgment impaired by a change or sedation, only an idiot would have played on. His Elf had proved that she was most emphatically wasn't an simpleton.
The Inner Council had sent on their approval with only one expressing his unhappiness. The Accountant shrugged, you couldn't make everyone happy, but he would settle for what he received. The initial ratings were right through the roof with markets that usually wouldn't touch Princess or Slave for any reason expressing interest in the episode. That was very good and had great potential for the future.
Satisfied that his newest picture was straight he stepped back. She wasn't one of those who escaped him, but more like catch and release. The situation would not let him keep her, but that did not make him any less contented. The Five was now Six and that was enough.
It was time to look over next week's victims. There was this young computer programmer who was operating under the misconception that he was more intelligent than his employers. Prima-donna Egos could be forgiven, embezzlement, never.
Hmmm... that gave him an idea. A touch of culture could be the perfect touch after last night's show. A talk with tech support was called for.
The Accountant smiled challenging himself to exceed his latest success. They haven't seen anything yet!
Chapter Fourteen
Sainte' Royal Hotel
Gene Aldric
What went in had to come out. Oh, the stench of some of it, but the atypical stuff going on inside me meant nasty stuff had to come out. It was getting better, but thankfully Darlene had encouraged me to try a bunch of different juices and foods I normally shied away from.
“I wouldn't be surprised if your taste buds were different.” She pushed a glass of grapefruit juice at him. “Give it try and if nothing else remember it's just liquid that isn't going to stick around for very long.”
“Do I even have a digestive tract?” I moaned because it seemed I was running to the bathroom every ten minutes.
“Yes, but it's probably smaller now and it's likely being flushed by all the nanities.” Darlene smiled, looking at my covered privates. “So how is that working for you?”
“I'm still peeing standing up if that is what you wanted to know.” Blushing like I hadn't in years, I didn't want to say more.
“And your new addition?” Her eyes danced with mischief. “Don't be shy. I have one now too, even if I did get rid of what you kept.”
“Okay,” My breasts rose and fell as I sighed. She would drag it out of me if I didn't tell her. “I've been getting a little damp there and yes I know what that means.”
“Gene,” It was her turn to sigh which I noticed her chest also rose and fell in an interesting way. “Right now your hormones are no doubt all over creation. Arousal happens and is nothing to feel guilty about.
“However,” Darlene closed her eyes. “I know you. You'll dance around things and avoid confronting issues if you think it'll cause a problem. So here it is straight out.”
“You're my friend.” Those chocolate eyes opened up looking right into mine. “I'm not going anywhere no matter how you changed. Didn't you pay attention when we prepared for the worst when we got married? That was so if I had to, I could care for you no matter if you were a brain dead bimbo.
“That said,” Darlene took a deep breath, “I am attracted to you. My liking girls never changed and you, my Dear, are a serious dish. With all of my years of gaming, do you think I wouldn't be interested in the beautiful elf ?
“What's more it's not going to damage our friendship.” Her eyes narrowed. “It has gone through a lot of far worse things than a failed romance and have survived.
“I'm not going to pressure you, but you have no idea of how much I want to kiss you.” Darlene shrugged, “But I'm not going to. However, if you come over here and kiss me, I can guarantee you'll get kissed back. What happens after that I don't know, but we will always be friends, but we might be something else too.
“If you just want more hugs.” She held out her arms. “I can do that as well, because no matter what I want you in my life.
“No, I 'have' to have you in my life.” Tears began running down her cheeks.
“Damn,” I cursed, feeling very, very uncomfortable and awkward. “Why did you have to start crying for.”
I had a lump the size of a boulder in my throat, but I moved to her anyways. Wiping those that dampness away, I wasn't sure if this was good thing or not.
“As you wish.” I lifted my lips to hers.
That tingling that'd bedeviled me since my lips changed into Luscious Bows, turned into a delicious spreading warmth, that made me realize just what it 'take my breath away' really meant. Panting as we pulled apart, I was damp if not outright 'wet' down there. I think she must've been too from the way my nose picked up her scent.
“If we do that again.” Her voice was husky with desire. “Something is going to happen.”
“What about protection?” If she hadn't been holding me up, I would've fell. My poor legs felt like noodles. I had no idea if that was even something I had to worry about.
“Not until after my first period.” Her lips got closer.
“Well,” I think I was just as breathy as Darlene as I opened my mouth to hers. “That's nice to know.”
I've always tried to be a gentleman and never kissed or told. Right now I really had not a clue if that applied to me or not. I will say it was amazing all the overwhelming sensations or not. I'd also never thought about being submissive, but considering how all my senses were singing like a full orchestra it was bound to happen.
Next time I don't know, but I know I did like it.
“Is there going to be a next time?” I asked, cuddled in her arms.
“Yes,” her gentle hands stoked my hair and face.
“Good,” I snuggled happily beside her. I guess my own desire was so very plain to see.
A small rumble spoiled the moment. Damn bodily functions, I abandoned my perfect spot to avoid embarrassment.
“I'll be back.” Quoting, I shuffled back to the bathroom as fast as I could with her laughing behind me.
“Only in reruns!” She quoted, the obnoxious announcer guy from 'The Running Man.'
“That's not funny!” I retorted, leaning out from the toilet, considering we had just escaped our own Death Game.
“Oh, but it is!” She walked in on me still sitting.
“What are you doing?” It was a waste of time trying to cover up, I was on the throne!
“You didn't look at the amount on the checks?” She turned on the shower.
“Of course I did!” Sign something from these people and not read it very carefully, never!
“The second check as well?” Well, she was mostly undressed already, but her attractive girl-next-door who had bloomed in a woman, was beautiful to me. Not only was she still my friend, but somehow had become even more. Just how much more I really, really wanted to find out.
“What second check?” I made a point of remembering her hygiene lessons. No way in hell did I want anything to do with yeast no way, no how!
“The one underneath the first that's I guess is like a bonus.” She replied, “They didn't want to reveal just how much the grand-prize really is so this is their way of concealing even this partial win.
“Do I even want to ask how much?” I stood feeling so very vulnerable as she finished undressing me.
“Not nearly enough for what we went through.” She hugged me again which I needed. “With the official winnings close to a three quarters of a hundred grand.”
“This is going to suck isn't it?” My mind was full of not having a job, needing everything like clothes and whatever other special needs that I had to have now.
“But you have me.” She got me into the shower.
“And that is all I'll ever want.” Soap, shampoo, and sex scents were heavy on the steamy air, but most of all it was hers, Darlene. Maybe I couldn't capture lips like I could when I was taller, but looking up at her and offering my lips to her worked just as well or better.
My dearest friend's eyes shined as we kissed and held each other under the falling water, perfect.
Epilogue
Magic-Con
Jean Aldric-Franklin
Click-tap, click-tap, I never thought I would ever be hearing the sound of me of all people walking in heels. I's all Darlene's fault or Imoen from Baldur's Gate while in her present attire.
Me, because of my big mouth was dressed as, wait for it, Virconia DeVir. The silver wig and violet eye contacts with a little face black was all that was needed. Of course my real hair was gelled and skin capped down tight, because Darlene would not let me cut it even if it would grow back in record time. Just so it's said, no, it won't hold a dye.
Five, four, three, two, one … Crash!
“That's two,” I leaned over to 'Imone.' “Only three more nerds to go.”
“You would think they wouldn't walk into displays like that.” Darlene in her costume giggled. “You would think they've never seen an Elf cleric or a half-Elf thief before.”
“As long as they don't try kidnapping me.” I smiled grimly. “I'm alright with them making fools of themselves.”
“That didn't work out too well for the last ones.” She touched my arm signaling she'd seen something at a dealer's table of interest. “It is right there in your public records that that you used to work as an armed courier.”
“Most people think of the ones on bicycles.” I nudged her gently. “Guys packing heat, driving armored vans makes most people think of Wells-Fargo or Loomis.”
“There is no excuse for not doing your research.” She picked up a silver bracelet with some nice Celtic knot work. “Particular when failing means hard time. Kidnapping is a federal crime.”
“But they don't check to see what I'm doing now either.” I complained. “A self-defense instructor should make most of even the biggest idiots think twice.”
“Misogyny, isn't about intelligence, my dear DeVir.” She held up my arm to see how it would look on me. “Me, man, you woman, me take, ugh.”
“Me, Elf with concealed carry license.” I giggled, “Me shoot Ugg in foot so the cops don't have to run to catch you.”
“If you don't mind me asking,” The woman minding the booth smiled, Imoen. “How far along are you?”
“Just finished my first trimester.” My Love's hand laid on her 'baby bump.'
“Congratulations!” Her name tag said Ruth. “I didn't know if it was you two until now. The makeup and hair is really well done, but I remember who you said was your favorite fantasy character...”
“That is going to haunt me forever,” I groaned. “It seems like everyone has seen at least an edited version of that damn show. On the other hand, I can't resent it at all.”
My hand joined my Love's resting 'our' baby.
Forced into a twisted game; changed beyond all recognition; lost my job; the legal pain of having to prove I was still me; it was still worth it because I had the woman I loved and our child yet to be.
“Truer bastards have never lived,” Ruth spat, “But sometimes even as nasty as a piece of work as that Island, some good comes of it.”
Both of us nodded. Legal Eagle had recruited us and many others into what amounted to lobbying organization that aided that place's victims and warned others of just the kind of dangers they might be walking into.
The plain truth was that the rules against certain nanotechnologies were there for with good reason. The Isle, however, broke and ignored those rules, but if not for them, my Love and I would not be expecting a child nor would I have potential to give birth either.
Not that I wanted to, but I have to admit to some curiosity. I suppose I was slowly getting used to being feminine no matter that I had 'all-the-options.' Those 'talents' did strongly urge, if they didn't force me, to act like I looked, a lady. I could ignore that and run around in my old guy clothes, but I felt better, more comfortable, if I didn't. Besides Darlene gave me no end of grief when I did even if it was mostly just to prove I still could. Acceding to her wishes made her happy which in turn made me very, very happy.
I think we both still wondered if we'd been setup during that last segment after all. Sure the nanites were left to their own programming after those cuffs were removed. They were to stabilize the transformations and when finished allow themselves to be flushed out.
However, we were both together on stage there at the end and they might've done something there. We certainly jumped on each other the next day like a pair of rabbits. So did they push along the 'honeymoon' thing?
The CDC office that examined me with a fine tooth comb grudgingly gave me certification that I was safe and wasn't going to become Gray Goo Plague Patient Zero. What was done was done and we were happy with the lives we'd made in the aftermath.
“I know I wouldn't” Ruth smiled at us. “More true fans are showing up with ears like yours as well as other modifications that are mostly in good taste. Still something does need to be done about that cursed Island.”
Imoen took Ruth's hand gently questioningly.
“She was a cousin.” Tears gathered in the woman's eyes. “She never came back.”
“Someday,” I whispered. I'd never forgotten Rose, but understood that even attempting to rescue her could cause those vindictive asses to harm her. It was hard not doing anything, but working the system to gather support was for now the best way to help not just her, but all of those caught in that hellish paradise.
“We think the reason Jean and I came out reasonably whole.” Darlene shared. “Is that they were going for some positive public relations. That broadcasted suicide truly hurt them and their precious profit margin.”
“And while their show with me did gather them a lot of attention.” I was grinning now. “It also put their usual activities in stark contrast. What is so sad about the entire mess is that there are plenty of people that would volunteer for even some of their sickest ideas.
“The problem is the show targets those who want nothing to do with that and allows a bunch of rich sickos act out their revenge fantasies. To add insult to injury, they then get paid for it.” I gave my opinion. “Some of their other shows aren't near that bad and a few that are honestly entertaining. Princess or Slave is not.”
“Here,” Imoen handed Ruth a card. “This is a group that is gathering political support and humanitarian aid for the victims. If you or your family wants to help please call this number or look up our website.
“Part of our strategy is to make some of the services the Isle provides available elsewhere.” Our fingers interweave above our child. “Making it safer and more palatable to the world at large, but also hitting the Isle where hurts, in their end of year profit reports. There are things that people will dare making a deal with the Devil himself if they have to. We aim to undercut the bastards.”
“I will.” Her eyes were thoughtful.
There was a crash behind us, that had Ruth startled in surprise.
I knowingly glanced back at the jumble of gamers and merchandise in a mess on the dealer's floor.
“More victims, Dear?” My wife asked, mischief in her eyes.
“Aye, beware the peaks for they are treacherous!” Ruth choked with laughter and my dearest Love leaned on me giggling madly especially after I gave my bust a long look. Padding and cushioning could only hide so just so much.
Purchasing the pair of matched silver bracelets, we walked arm in arm among the varied races of imagination and dreams in the marvelous bazaar filled with wondrous devices and wares.
The future lay before us.