I turned to my left and looked down. I could see Cynthia looking down at the valley floor, swaying slightly in her harness. She looked up at me, a worried expression on her pretty face, her long blonde hair draped back over her shoulders, partially concealed by the white climbing helmet securely strapped about head. She gave me a frightened, worried look as she swung lightly up against the sheer granite cliff. She looked tired. A bad sign.

Damn! Why had I let her talk me into this anyway?! If Mom knew she was up here with me, she'd have my head on a platter!!

I tried to reassure her with a smile as I looked over at the single piton that was keeping her from plummeting a hundred feet to the floor of the canyon.

Damn!! I knew better than to try this with a novice! She should have at least two pitons holding her! I should have taken us down and moved over fifty feet before continuing up. This side of the cliff just wasn't working out as I'd planned.

I looked back up and to my left, eyeing a good spot to sink in another piton so that I could put a double-belay on myself and the loose end of her line. Then she'd be OK and I could move us sideways for a while until we came to the ledge jutting out thirty feet to my left.

I looked back at her and smiled again.

"Don't worry, Sis. I'll tie you off over here and then you can climb up and we'll move left. Just keep cool. This parts a little trickier than I thought."

She tried to smile back, but she was obviously becoming a little afraid. Why had I given into her pleading in the first place?! Why hadn't I just taken the both of us up the way I was used to?! This was a hell of a time to try out a new route! . . . . Damn!

She nodded and I moved my left hand over to another finger-hold, glad that I was wearing the gloves today. These rocks could be sharp sometimes. I got a good handhold and shifted my foot to move left when I heard the first sharp crack of breaking granite.

I instinctively looked over to my right where my own line was strung through the other piton. It was holding securely, the piton stuck deep in the small crack.

When I heard the short, sharp cry from Cynthia, I looked down at her and saw her bobbing slightly in her harness. I immediately looked up to the piton that secured her and saw it tilting dangerously downward, an inch or so further out from the crack than it should have been!

I open my mouth to tell Cynthia to stay calm and to reach onto the cliff face, to find a hand hold, when a louder snap forced me to look back at the piton holding her line. . . just in time to see it come out of the crack and snap downwards from the tension!!

As I saw her start to fall out of the corner of my eye, I felt the first tug of the slack end of her line as it quickly snaked out from the D-ring where it hung, as yet unsecured, on my climbing belt. I didn't even hear her terse cry as she fell, my mind intent on getting the loose end fastened to my waist before the line went taut. If only my own, single piton would hold us both when her line snapped tight!! As I grabbed the line to tie it around me, I unconsciously braced for the inevitable jerk.

But as quick as my hands moved, the line ran out, zipping from my fingers just as I almost had it about me. My heart moved up into my throat and my mouth went dry as I looked frantically down at her.

Looking back later, it seemed so strange to see her falling, tumbling once against the sheer wall, her limbs flailing like a rag doll, and then to be distracted from that terrible sight by the glint of sunlight that reflected off the rooftop of the car pulling up next to Cynthia's, far below.

The weirdest part was that I remembered thinking, "I thought Mom was going to the Mall today. What is she doing up here?"

As I negotiated the last thirty feet down to the floor of the narrow canyon, I knew my thoughts should have been on Cynthia. The last time I had looked, fifty feet further up the cliff, my mother was still kneeling down next to her twisted body, her first few screams becoming the constant sobs I had heard for the last few minutes of my descent. She had only looked up once at me, and even though I couldn't see her face clearly at the time, I knew that her anquish had been momentarily replaced by a look of sheer anger. Frankly, I was thinking about myself at that moment. I wondered if it wouldn't be better to just let go and fall next to Cynthia. At least I'd be spared what I knew was to come.

I felt sick inside over what had happened to my sister, but I was equally frightened of my mother. I knew there'd be no forgiveness, even though it was an accident.

There was no doubt in my mind that my sister was dead where she lay. It had been a terrible fall and would have killed her instantly from half the height. As I continued down, I wondered why my mother, someone who always maintained control, hadn't rushed to call an ambulance or someone for help on the cellphone I knew was in her car. But then, certainly she could see that it would do no good. I had to face it, my over confidence had killed my twenty year old sister.

I stepped onto a ledge only ten feet from the bottom, preparing to jump down, when I considered what had gone wrong. It didn't take much thinking.

I had only been rock climbing for a few months and though a two hundred foot ascent on this cliff wasn't very difficult, it did take some formal training. Training that I had and Cynthia didn't. Second, I had let her talk me into taking her up, knowing that we would be the only ones here. I'd been up this canyon a few times before, practicing my new sport far from the prying eyes of other climbers who used more well known cliffs. It wasn't a very difficult cliff, but I liked practicing alone and it met my own needs for solitude and my experience level. Third, I knew that my mother would have forbade this even if we had asked her. I was still only seventeen and should have asked her first. But both Cynthia and I knew that Mom would never have let her come out here with me. Cynthia just wasn't cut out for this kind of thing.

I tried not to think of her, but an image of her I remembered from just last week came to mind. She was wearing a short, tight blue dress that Mom had given her. Her long legs, encased in smoky nylons, looked very nice, even for a girl who was my sister. And her ample cleavage pressed out the top of the tight dress, showing off the figure she had inherited from my mother. She was all made-up and she and Mom were going out to shop at the mall. Her long, wavy blonde hair framed her pretty face and she stood tall, almost 5' 9" in her spiked heels. She looked feminine and ladylike, the way Mom liked her to be, . . . not like a girl who enjoyed rock climbing.

Though she was trim and had a great figure, she hadn't been very physically active for some time and I knew it. Damn it!! Why had I let her talk me into this?!?!

As I jumped down from the ledge, I cursed myself again and then looked over at my mother, still kneeling down next to my sister, no longer sobbing, but stoic, with an expressionless stare on her face as she looked at the body. Damn!! If only Cynthia had been in better shape, then she wouldn't have tired out so easily and forced me to leave her hanging there in such a bad spot! If only she had more endurance . . . if only she didn't smoke those cigarettes she liked so much . . . if only . . . . . it was useless. I knew who was to blame.

I took off my climbing harness and walked slowly over to where she lay, wishing I were invisible and my mother wouldn't notice me. My mouth was dry and my heart was pounding with fear and sorrow.

When she looked up at me, I was struck by how strange she looked kneeling there in the dirt, up in this canyon floor that was strewn with scrub oak and bushes, wearing a stylish red dress, high heels, nylons with dirt stains on the knees, her light brown hair styled over her shoulders, her red lipstick shining in the sunlight.

Her pearl necklace swung out from her neck, draping over her bosom that strained outwards against the tight front of the red dress.

Her eyes, red from tears that no longer flowed, fixed on me and her full lips were drawn into a tight grimace. Her stare burned into me and I didn't have to hear her to know what she was thinking. I stopped a few feet from her and looked down at Cynthia, lying there in an impossible position, her legs bent underneath her like a contortionists act.

My mother's hissing voice brought me into the present.

"YOU!! . . . You did this!!", she hissed at me, almost on the verge of crying again.

I recoiled, my fear of her growing again. I always had wondered how such a beautiful woman as my mother could make me so afraid of her. But looks only hid the domineering personality she had. Maybe it even enhanced it.

"How could you?! You knew she shouldn't do this . . . this thing with you!!

I looked down, trying to think of something to say . . . trying to explain . . .

"But . . . but she . . . she wanted to . . . .", my emotions took over and my eyes stung as I blurted out, "Oh, God, Mom! I didn't mean . . . I mean . . . can't we . . . shouldn't we call for help . . or something?!" I was scared and confused now. Surely we should do something! We can't just stand here and look at her!

But she cut me off, standing up and striding over to me, looking at me eye-to-eye in her heels.

"Do what?!?", she blurted out, "Can't you see what you've done?!?! Your sister . . . my . . . my daughter is dead!!!" I couldn't look at her and I averted my eyes, looking over at her Mercedes, thinking the expensive, red car looked so out of place up here.

She turned and went back over to Cynthia and looked down at her, shaking her head. I stood still and a moment later she walked briskly past me and went to her car. Thinking she was going to use her carphone to call for help, I followed.

Instead, she reached into the front seat and grabbed her red purse, taking it over to the front of the car and leaned against the hood as she opened it and pulled out a handkerchief, gently wiping her eyes and staring down at the dirt.

She stood there, staring down for what seemed an eternity while I grew more and more afraid and uncomfortable. I was scared and was looking to her for guidance, but none seemed to come.

Then she straightened up, as though she had come to some conclusion in her mind and stared at me. I looked down, afraid to hold her gaze.

Her question startled and confused me even more.

"Who knows you two were up here?"

I looked questioningly at her.

"What . . .? Why do you . . . "

"Just answer me! Who knows !!" She was angry and her curt tone unnerved me.

I stammered, "Uh, . . . no . . . no one. We didn't tell anyone. Honest!" Why was she asking me this?

"Did you see anyone after you got here?!"

I thought about her strange question. Though I didn't know the reason for her query, I thought quickly and then answered.

"No, Mom. No ones comes here but me."

It was true. In the few times I had come here, ever since I'd found the old dirt road that led up here from the edge of the suburbs a few miles away, I had never seen anyone here. I was surprised that Mom had found it today, given that I'd only told her briefly about where it was.

She nodded and looked down again, as if thinking again of some . . . some plan she had conceived, though I had no idea what it could be.

Then another thought flashed into my mind. But it seemed so far fetched and . . . and removed from our present situation that I almost dismissed it.

I remembered the money.

The money. The one thing that I knew separated me from my sister . . . at least as far as my mother was concerned. My sister's inheritance. My sister . . . . . my sister the eight million dollar girl. I had joked to her about it before, remembering an old TV series.

My sister was the sole beneficiary of my grandmother's will. My mother had been one of her heirs . . . before my dad had died two years ago. My grandmother had adored her son . . . my dad . . . and he had died in a car accident, coming home from a visit to Grandma's. A visit he had made alone because Mom didn't want to go. Grandma had blamed Mom for his death and had removed her from the will about two months before she died. I didn't care that she had removed me, too. I didn't know why and I didn't care. But Mom sure did!

The will stipulated that Cynthia would receive her inheritance only when she turned twenty-one. Mom had spent long hours lecturing us on how wrong it was for Grandma to have done that. That it wasn't her fault that Dad had died. I think she had some kind of agreement with Cynthia about the inheritance. Cynthia had gone away to college that fall and had just returned for the summer. We had moved out to California a couple of months ago and Cynthia hadn't seen the new house until she arrived a week ago. Mom had been with her all the time since she got home, shopping with her and going out together. She seemed to be protecting her, after all, Cynthia would have turned twenty-one in another six months. I remembered that she was supposed to introduce Cynthia to some people at the Country Club next week, at some party that she had arranged.

It wasn't like we were broke since Dad had died. He left us pretty well off. But eight million?? No. We weren't that well off. And I knew that Mom considered that her money.

Now I knew what was dominating her thoughts. Her daughter . . . and her eight million was lying dead a few yards away. The will stipulated that if for some reason Cynthia couldn't accept the money, it would go to to several different charities.

I felt a little ashamed for thinking that was what this was all about, but I felt it must be at the root of her reluctance to do anything right away. As these thoughts flashed through my mind, taking only a few moments away from the present, I saw her look back at me and then straighten up, again assuming control as she always did.

She reached into her purse and took out her cigarettes. Lighting one of the long, white cigarettes, she blew a stream of smoke out slowly from between her red lips and then looked sidelong over at me and spoke deliberately, matter-of-factly.

"I knew you'd be up here with her. I saw your gear missing from the garage and the extra rope you'd just bought. I couldn't find Cynthia in the house and I just knew you'd try something like this with her!"

I felt daggers fly from her eyes as she spoke. But it was familiar to me. We hadn't gotten along for a long time and now it was coming to a head. Out here. Out here next to my dead sister. I looked down in shame and fear. She was right. This was my fault.

"I suppose you know what this means?! I suppose you know that besides the fact that your sister . . . my daughter is dead . . . that we no longer have any way of recovering our family inheritance?!?! Do you realize what this means?!?!"

I really didn't know and I didn't care. I just wanted to leave. To leave and go get someone to help us with Cynthia. She shouldn't be just lying there like that. But I wasn't aware of how quickly my mother had been thinking. How much she had already planned.

I looked up at her, her anger registering harsly on her face and opened my mouth to plead with her to call for help. She cut me off.

"When you told me about this place, . . . you said there was a . . a cave . . . or a fissure or something nearby. Something that was deep and you couldn't see the bottom. Didn't you?"

Now I was really confused. What was she thinking about?? But her tone indicated that I should just answer, not argue.

I remembered the crack at the base of the cliff, about a hundred feet away, behind some bushes and next to a large, crumbling boulder. It was a small crack, barely big enough for a fairly small, skinny guy like me to fit into. I wasn't really that small. But at 5' 9" and 145 pounds, I wasn't exactly big. I had dropped a rock into the crack when I'd noticed that it went straight down inside. It had been several seconds before I heard the noise of it striking the bottom.

"Yeah," I shrugged, pointing off to my left, "it's over there. But . . . but why?"

"Never mind. Come with me." She took a last puff on her cigarette and then dropped in in the dirt, grinding it in with the toe of her high heel shoe. Then she walked towards Cynthia's body and I instictively followed, still shaken and not knowing what to do.

Mom leaned over Cynthia's body and looked closely at her for a few seconds before looking back up at me.

"Come over here, Keith and help me." I did as she asked.

We turned her over, my heart beating faster as I saw Cynthia's bruised and broken face roll over to look blankly up at me. The blood from her mouth was already clotted and drying on her lips. I felt sick.

Mom reached down and removed the climbing gloves from Cynthia's small hands. I wondered what she was doing when I saw her take the diamond ring from Cynthia's right ring finger. It took her a second to get it off, the finger was swollen a bit. Then she reached over and took the small wrist watch off her left wrist.

As we both stood up, she walked back over to the car and picked her purse up off the hood and placed the items in it. Then she just stood there again, looking down and thinking.

I just stood where I was, not wanting to be near her when she was so angry. But watching her, I noticed that she now seemed more in control of herself, more resolved in her mind. She looked up at me once, right after I saw her head straighten up, as if she'd thought of something important. I was a little unnerved by the way she looked at me for a moment, one corner of her mouth coming up almost into a slight smile. But then she looked up and away, down the road that led up here. A moment later she came back over to me.

Standing in front of me, her left arm crossed under her ample bosom and her right finger pointing at me, she sternly said, "Now listen to me, Keith. You're going to help me and you are not going to argue with me or say anything!! Do you understand?" I nodded, afraid to do otherwise.

"Now come over here and help me with your sister." She turned towards the body and I dejectedly followed her.

I drove Cynthia's car carefully down the dirt road, following my mother. It was almost dark now and my mind was still reeling from the events that had taken place that afternoon. I just couldn't believe all that had happened. It was like a dream.

As we turned onto the paved road and headed towards our house, the image of Cynthia's body disappearing into the fissure came back to me. Then the wait . . . the several seconds before we heard the 'thunk' as she hit the bottom of the narrow cave. I wondered how far down it went. It must have been a long ways. I tried not to think of it, but it was no use. I still couldn't believe what we had done.

My mother's words came back to me and though I didn't want to, I knew that I'd do just as she demanded. I would tell no one, say nothing. She said she would take care of everything. All was not lost. "All". . . . I knew what that meant. She had meant the money. I had no idea how she planned to get it, but she obviously had meant the inheritance.

The look of resolve on her face told me that she must have had a plan, but she didn't share it with me. She'd just told me to be calm and not to say anything. She had mentioned how Cynthia had only been here for a week and didn't know anyone yet. And how we had only been here for a short time ourselves. Though my mother knew a few people, I hadn't made any friends other than the few people I'd met at the rock climbing seminar. I'd just listened in shock as I realized what she was doing. We were hiding my sister's body! So that no one would know she was gone! Though I knew it was wrong, I couldn't help but do as she said. She had also mentioned again how this was all my fault and that she was protecting the both of us. I couldn't help but go along with her. I was sick inside.

We turned up the main boulevard outside the new development we lived in. A few minutes later we drove up in front of our house. Mom opened the automatic garage door and she drove in, leaving me room to park Cynthia's Mustang inside. I drove in the garage and she closed the door.

I got out of the white Mustang and followed her inside the house. She went straight upstairs to her room, telling me to put away the climbing gear and then go to my room, get showered and change and wait for her there. I did as she said.

I put away the ropes and harness . . . one harness, Cythia had gone to the bottom of the fissure wearing her's. Mom had said that in case she was ever found, it should look like she fell inside the cave while trying to climb down. We even threw in one of the ropes.

Then I went up to my room and took off my clothes. I threw the dirty shirt and jeans into the hamper and then went into the bathroom that connected my room with Cynthia's. I looked at the door that led out of the bathroom into her's and felt my uneasiness grow again. I was still scared and confused. How was Mom going to get away with this?! And how would she ever get the money?! Cynthia was gone!!

I stripped off my underwear and socks, throwing them in the hamper and then turned to the shower. As I waited for the water to warm up, I looked over at the large, oak framed mirror that hung over the countertop. I saw the dirt on my face and neck. I looked at the image staring back at me, my hair hanging damp and dingy on my neck and forehead. I blinked twice, feeling as if I was staring at someone I didn't know, someone who had done something awful. My face was blank, but my mind was filled with the awful events of the day.

I looked down at my nakedness, my narrow, flat chest, my thin waist and hips, my legs, feet. I wasn't very manly looking and I didn't feel very much like a man right now. I felt more like a . . . a slinking murderer. Dirty.

I stepped into the shower and the warm water soothed me. It seemed to wash away some of the guilt along with the dirt and grime. I soaped up and then washed my hair. A few minutes later I reluctantly got out and dried off.

As I stood next to my dresser, taking out a pair of briefs and another T-shirt, I could hear the muffled sounds of my mother talking on the phone in her room down the hall. I couldn't make out what she was saying and I wondered who she could possibly be talking to. I knew she had said to be quiet about this, but I also knew that she must have made some plan to deal with it. But it was so confusing. What could she possibly do?! I inwardly hoped that she was finally telling someone about what had happened, but . . . . . now I was equally frightened over what we had done. How would that look if she told someone?!

I dressed, putting on another pair of jeans and then went over by the door. I opened it slightly and listened in the direction of her room. I saw that her door was opened slightly, but I could only make out a few words from her conversation.

" . . . . Yes . . . that's all of it." A pause, then " . . . . No, . . . I'm sure she won't be found." Another long pause while I wondered who she could be talking to, then, " . . . . Yes. He won't say a thing, I'm sure of it. Do you think it'll work? I mean . . . can it be done?" What was she talking about? My curiosity was peeked and though I was afraid, I moved a little closer down the hall towards her room. I just had to hear more. Who could she be talking to?! She had said not to tell anyone.

" . . . Uh-Huh . . . Yes . . . Then you've tried it on someone else already? . . . . . . Uh-huh . . . And no one knew the difference? . . . . Uh-huh." Another long pause, " . . . . Yes . . I thought of you right away. I remembered the conversation that we had a few months ago before we left. I . . . I'm sure you know what's at stake here." Another pause, " . . . Yes . . . I'm prepared to do what ever is necessary." Another pause, " . . . Uh-huh . . . Yes. No one will know where we're going. We'll leave on the first flight I can get out on tonight." A long pause.

What was she talking about? A flight? Tonight? To where? I listened carefully, still wondering who she was talking to.

" . . . No . . I understand fully what this means. Don't worry, I've already made up my mind. He'll be fine. After all, it was his fault."

Was she talking about me? God! Had she told someone that I . . I had killed my sister?!?! I was becoming more frightened again. But I still listened.

" . . . Allright, Sarah. Thank you very much. You know I'll make this worth your while. We'll see you at the airport. I'll call again in a while when I know what time we'll be there." A pause, " . . . OK, Thanks again. Bye." She hung up the phone as I walked quietly back to my room, shutting the door silently behind me.

I sat on my bed and listened. A few minutes later I heard the shower in her bathroom. After another ten minutes I could hear her coming out of her room and walking down the hallway to my room. I braced for the meeting. I didn't want to talk about this anymore. I just wanted to run away.

She knocked once then opened the door. She was wearing her robe and slippers, her hair wrapped in a towel over her head. She only walked in a few feet and then stopped, looking down at me, her arms crossed under her bosom.

"Keith, I want you to change into something a little nicer. Put on a pair of slacks and a sweater. Then I want you to pack a small bag, just enough for one night. We're leaving town tonight for a short trip. We'll be back by tomorrow evening, probably late. Be ready to leave in a half hour. We're on an eight o'clock flight."

I opened my mouth to ask her what was going on, but she raised a hand and cut me off, saying, "I don't have time to answer your questions now. I have to get ready. I'll tell you about it on the way to the airport. Now just do as I said and be ready when I come out." With that she turned and left, leaving me more confused and frightened than ever.

As I changed and threw some things in a small suitcase, I heard her on the phone again, only briefly, then she hung up. She must have been calling that woman . . Sarah, to tell her when we would arrive. Arrive where?

I stood by the car as Mom finished putting her fur coat in the back seat. She placed her purse on the front seat then I got in. She started the car and opened the garage door, backing out slowly as I looked over at her, anxious to find out what was going on. My heart still beat fast and I was as confused and frightened as ever.

She was dressed up real nice, wearing a blue, silk dress and blue high-heels. Here hair was draped over her shoulders and, as usual, her make-up was impecable. The long, pearl earrings dangled next to her neck and the pearl necklace she wore hung over her bosom. Her long, red laquered nails shone lightly in the street lighting as they grasped the steering wheel and she turned onto the street. A moment later we were on our way to the airport.

After a few minutes, she reached for her purse and took out her cigarettes. She lit one and blew the smoke out her partially opened window. I was about to ask her what this was all about when she glanced over at me and spoke.

"Now listen carefully, Keith. I'm only going to explain this to you once." She didn't need to tell me to listen. I was all ears and scared.

"We're going to fly to Salt Lake City. We're going to meet an old freind of mine, Sarah Jensen. We went to college together and were roomates. We've kept in touch a little over the years. She is a very resourcefull and powerful woman. She has a . . . a facility outside of Salt Lake. She's going to help us. She is a very resourcefull and intelligent woman. She has the means to help us out of this . . . this awful predicament. She'll meet us at the airport and then drive us over to her place. We'll stay with her tonight and probably leave tomorrow evening. She's going to . . . to help us recover our inheritance."

She looked at me for a second, as if trying to judge my reaction. But I was just as confused as before and ventured a question.

"But, . . . but what can she do? I mean . . . uh, what can she do about Cynthia? I thought . . . " Again she cut me off.

"Don't worry about it. She can and will help us. Don't go asking any foolish questions. Just do as I say and everything will be alright. Do you understand me?"

I nodded, not understanding but unwilling to confront her.

"Good. Just relax and we'll be just fine." Then she actually gave me a slight smile and added, "You'll understand everything in due time. You're just going to have to trust me. Trust us."

I nodded again and then looked out the window at the passing cars. I just wanted all this to be over and to forget. My mother took another puff on her cigarette and then put it out. She had a look of determination on her pretty face. A look that said she was in control and wasn't worried. It made me relax a little.

The plane pulled up to the gate and we stood up to leave, collecting our three suitcases and my mother's fur coat. I was still wondering why my mother had packed the extra suitcase, the one Cynthia had brought home with her. I mean, after all . . . we were only going to be here for a day or so.

The pretty, blonde flight attendant smiled at us as we walked off the airplane and made our way up the jetway to the terminal. I smiled back at her, but I'm sure my worried look was still there. She probably thought I didn't like to fly.

I walked next to Mom as we entered the terminal. She stopped and looked around a second, then a smile broke out on her face as she looked to our right.

I looked over to see a pretty woman, a brunette, a little taller than Mom and maybe a little taller than me, dressed in a gray suitdress waving at her and smiling.

My mother gently pushed me in her direction and we walked over to her. The woman greeted Mom with a hug and a gentle, consoling smile before looking at me.

Her smile changed to a look of concern as Mom introduced me to her and I noticed that she was looking me over as if I was being inspected. It made me uneasy. I looked into her face as she changed back to a smile and I was struck by how pretty she was. She had a look of authority on her face, even though she was almost a match for Mom with her grace and beauty. But she looked a little sterner than Mom, if that was possible.

"So you're, Keith?", she said.

I tried to act non-chalant and just smiled, still wondering what we were doing here. It was late and I was tired.

Sarah looked back at Mom and smiled, saying, "Let's get your things and we'll be on our way. We still have a half-hour drive ahead of us."

Mom nodded and thanked her for meeting us, but Sarah said not to mention it. She was glad to help. That made me feel a little better. Maybe she could help us after all.

We left the terminal and went out to the front where a shiny black Mercedes waited by the curb. A driver was in the front, a fairly good looking man of about thirty, neatly dressed in a business suit and he got out to help put our bags in the trunk. I was struck by how big he seemed next to me and the women. I was again reminded that I wasn't very big for a seventeen year old guy. But he smiled warmly and I felt at ease as we drove off, Mom and I in the back and Sarah up front in the passenger seat.

They didn't talk much as we drove out towards the edge of town, away from the bright lights of the city nestled up against the tall mountains. After about 30 minutes we pulled onto a side road that led to a large gate. The driver pressed a button on the dash of the car and the gates swung open, allowing us to drive in. I looked ahead as we drove up a treelined road for about a hundred yards and saw the large, tudor style home come into view. Even in the dark, with only a few lights on outside, I could see that it was a very expensive home. And there seemed to be a more office-like, windowless structure attached to one side and leading back. Maybe this was the facility Mom had mentioned. I wondered what Ms. Jensen did here.

We stopped in front of the double doors, large oak doors that were set back under the brick archway leading into the house. The driver got out as we did and took our bags out of the trunk. Sarah and Mom walked up the steps to the front door and Mom motioned me to follow.

As we went in, I could see that Sarah Jensen was definitely a woman of means. The large house was beautifully furnished with expensive furniture and tastful decorations.

"Well," she said to Mom, "here we are. I'm sure you two would like to get settled right away and get some rest." Mom nodded and said, "Yes. Thank you, Sarah for all your help. You know what this means to . . to us." She looked at me and I just nodded politely, obviously what she wanted me to do.

"Don't mention it, Susan. I'm glad to help." Then she looked over again at me, a slight smile on her face that made me uneasy. I still felt like I was deliberately being left out of the conversation.

She led us upstairs to our rooms, telling us that she'd see us in the morning for breakfast and that we could then get started. Started with what? If I hadn't been so exhausted, I would have pried Mom for more information, but I knew it was useless. Whatever was going on, I would find out later.

As she left me in the large guestroom that I was to sleep in, Sarah and Mom walked out into the hallway to the room prepared for her. I walked over to the door and opened it slightly as they stopped in front of another door down the panelled hallway.

"You'll be very comfortable in here tonight, Susan." Sarah said to my mother.

"Oh . . . by the way. Did you bring what I asked for?" She asked her.

"Of course. Would you like it now?", my Mom replied.

"Yes, I'll need to get started with it right away if we're to start in the morning."

My mom nodded and opened her purse, taking out a small plastic baggie and handing it to Sarah. I couldn't see anything in it, except maybe some blonde colored string or maybe hair in the bottom of it. I wondered again at what was going on and what possible significance some hair could have.

"Will this be enough?", my mother asked as she handed it to her.

"It'll be just fine. Now just relax and get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning."

My mother smiled again and thanked Sarah. They gave each other another hug and Sarah said, "Don't worry about a thing, Susan. I know what I'm doing."

My mother smiled and nodded, then went into her room.

I shut my door and went over to the large bed. I put my things away in the empty dresser and looked around the room.

It was a nice room, though a little more feminine than I would have had for myself. I wondered who had used it before. The large, queen sized bed had a cream colored quilt on it and a ruffled, peach skirt around the bottom. The dresser, nightstand and vanity in the room were all of dark mahogany. The closet was open and empty, the accordian doors swung back and there was a bathroom attached to one side, done in peach and pink. A large, free-standing mirror stood in one corner of the panelled room and the expensive looking, carved oak frame that held it up looked old.

There was an equally ornate mirror over the vanity and a small, padded bench underneath it. A highbacked chair was in the other corner of the room, next to a small table with an ashtray and some magazines on it.

I went into the bathroom and relieved myself before brushing my teeth and putting my shaving kit away. Actually, I only had to shave once a week, but I liked having it with me when we travelled. It made me feel more mature and older. More like a man.

I went back into the room, feeling my tiredness and undressed. A few moments later I was under the soft covers of the bed and nodding off to sleep. Though my mind was still filled with the events of the day . . . and my head was still filled with the questions I had, I soon dropped off to sleep. But the last thing I remembered was the picture in my mind of Cynthia's body disappearing into the crack in the granite cliff.

I sat up as my mother opened the door. She stepped in, dressed in a cream colored dress that hugged her curves. The sound of her high heels as they clicked on the wooden floor of the room brought me wide awake.

"Time to get up, Keith." she said. Though she smiled a little, her bright red lips curving upwards, I felt it wasn't genuine and I could still feel the tension between us.

"Get dressed and come downstairs. Your breakfast will be waiting. We have alot to do today." Then she turned and left, her long hair swishing gracefully around her shoulders as she turned.

I got out of bed and went into the bathroom. I brushed my teeth and used the toilet before steping into the combination bath/shower and washed myself. I towelled off with the large, pink colored towel and then went back into the room to get dressed.

A few minutes later I was walking down the circular staircase. My mother was at the foot of the stairs and motioned me to follow her.

I could see the sunlight streaming in through the large windows of the grand living room. I felt a little better now, the daylight seemed to chase some of my fears away, but I was still anxious to find out what was going on.

I followed my mother into a large dining room. Three places had been set and we sat down. There was no sign of anyone else.

A moment later Sarah came in, dressed in a pair of black, shiny slacks and a simple white blouse. She looked even prettier in the daylight, though her stern expression didn't put me at ease when she looked at me.

"Good morning." she simply said.

I nodded and replied, "Good morning."

She sat down across from us and a moment later a pretty young woman, dressed in a short skirted maids outfit came in. She was about eighteen or so. Her light brown hair was cut in a shoulder length, feminine style, a small white maids cap perched on top of her pretty head. She wore light make-up with pale red lipstick and her long, dark eyelashes fluttered femininely as she looked at us. She was smiling slightly and I found myself looking at her with interest. Her small, dainty hands had long fingernails shining with a bright pink polish. The short maid's outfit didn't hide her long shapely legs, encased in smoky nylons, and the shiny, black patent leather high heels looked very sexy on her. She brought in a serving tray and poured coffee into my mother's and Sarah's cups.

I was about to ask for some myself when she picked up another small pot from the tray and filled my cup, too. I wondered if maybe the other pot had been empty, but I was more struck by the odd, almost sad expression she gave me as she filled my cup with the steaming brew.

"That will be all for now, Jennifer. I'll call if we need anything else." Sarah said to the girl as she looked away from me.

The maid smiled obediently at Sarah and nodded, then left.

My mother looked over at me and then back at Sarah. Sarah just smiled at her and nodded, glancing only for a moment at me before sipping from her own cup.

My mother smiled and took a drink from her own coffee. Then she set it down and looked up at Sarah.

"Is everything ready, Sarah?" she asked hesitantly.

Sarah smiled and folded her hands in front of her face, her elbows resting on the table.

"Yes, Susan. We're all set. We just need to finish our coffee and we can get started." She glanced at me as she spoke, making me feel a little uneasy again as I brought my own cup up to my lips and took a sip of the hot liquid.

She smiled as I drank and then went back to her own cup.

"So tell me, Susan. How do you like San Diego?" She asked Mom.

"Actually it's quite nice. I really enjoy the weather and the shopping is almost as good as in New York." she replied. wondered at their small talk. It seemed to me that they should be discussing what they were going to do about Cynthia. That was why we had come here, I thought.

They talked for a little while as we finished our coffee, making small talk and not really saying anything. When I put down my cup for the last time, the coffee drained from it, Sarah looked up at me and then stood. My mother stood up, too and I saw Sarah nod at her, as if it was time for something else to happen.

My mother looked down at me and said, "Come with us, Keith. It's time we got started."

I gave her a quizical look, knowing she'd tell me in due time what was going on and stood up to follow them.

We walked out of the dining room and past the large living room, turning to the right and down another hallway. I watched as Sarah took a key and opened a door off to the left side of the hallway and walked in. She held the door open as my mother and I walked into a large study.

I looked around. It seemed like any other study except there were a couple of computers on one table and the desk was clean and bare, only a desk pad and a pen set on it, with a crystal ashtray off to on side. Another door led off to one side. There were two chairs pulled up in front of the desk and Sarah motioned us to take a seat. Maybe she was some kind of lawyer or something. Maybe that was why we were here. I thought about what she and Mom might be doing, maybe they were planning a legal strategy to get the money for us in spite of the fact that Cynthia was gone.

I sat down to the right of my mother and watched as Sarah went over to a closet and opened it up. She took out a white lab coat and put it on, ending my ideas about her being a lawyer. What was she anyway?

She came around and sat down at her desk facing us. My mother was lighting a cigarette as Sarah began to speak. This time she spoke directly to me.

"Well, Keith. Your mother has told me all about what happened yesterday."

She seemed to look accusingly at me and I felt very uneasy, not sure of what to say. It was obvious she thought it was all my fault. I squirmed a little in my chair.

She straightened up in her chair and sat back. I could see my mother exhaling a long stream of white smoke off to one side out of the corner of my eye. I glanced at her, but she was just looking at Sarah.

"It is fortunate that she called me right away." she continued, causing me to look back at her, "If we're to save the inheritance, we need to act fast and decisively. I'm sure you'll agree."

I didn't know what else to do so I nodded. It all seemed so clinical, as though my sister's death wasn't really of any concern anymore, only the money.

Sarah leaned forward again and then looked over at Mom.

"As I explained to you, Susan, . . . what we propose to do requires only about an hour in order to accomplish the preliminary phase. The second phase, that is the physical modifications, will occur as fast or as slow as you want them to. I reccommend that you take it slowly, maybe a couple of days. That way there is less stress imposed on the body and it will give you time to incorporate the third phase, the personality modifications, into the physical mods without much discontinuity. In other words, you don't want to have the subject appear as one thing and act as another. Do you follow me?"

She smiled slightly as she looked at my mother. My mother smiled and replied, "Yes. I'm clear on that point. You mentioned it yesterday and I think I can work that out so that everything will seem normal to anyone who might observe us."

"Good. Then I think we can begin. I'll give you a detailed list of the order in which to trigger the physical modifications. I'll also give you a list of behavioral modifications with my reccommendations as to where and when to incorporate them. But you may deviate from that list if it suits your needs. Only the physical mods must be kept in order. Be carefull not to deviate from that list too much or there might be some problems. And don't forget to stop for the time period listed on the sheet when you reach that stage."

My mother nodded while my mind tried to understand what they were talking about. None of it made any sense to me. Why were they talking about physical and behavioral modifications? What the hell did that have to do with the inheritance? Or Cynthia? I looked questioningly at my mother, who was looking over at me now and smiling slightly. I felt nervous, unable to grasp why I was being kept in the dark about everything. Why didn't they just tell me what was going on so that I could understand it?!

I opened my mouth to speak, to ask my mother to please explain it to me, when I felt a shiver start in my back and go up to the top of my head, causing my to shake slightly. I thought it was just a chill, then it happened again! This time I felt myself go rigid in my chair, unable to move my mouth as it hung partially open. What was going on?!

I could see Sarah smiling at me as she observed my reaction. I felt a little frightened, wondering why I couldn't move and why they didn't seem concerned about my obvious distress.

"Well, Keith. It appears that you're just about ready to begin. Just try and relax. This won't hurt you and I'll be through in just a few minutes." She stood up as my mind reeled with fear and confusion. I couldn't even look over at my mother for help! What was happening to me?!? Why were they doing this?! Why couldn't I move?!?!

Sarah spoke as she walked past me, "The drug that is controlling your movements right now will wear off in about fifteen minutes. Please don't worry. It has no lasting effects and only serves to keep you still while I administer the serums."

Serums?!? Drugs?!?! What was this all about?! At this point, I didn't need a drug to keep me still. I was petrified with fear!!

I could hear her opening a cabinet as she spoke to my mother, as if it was perfectly Ok for me to be sitting there, unable to move.

I could see my mother out of the corner of my eye as she got up and then she was out of sight, walking over to Sarah, behind me.

"This first injection, Susan, is for the behavioral mods. Remember that it will not only trigger the behavioral modifications, it also serves to trigger the physical mods by use of key words, followed by coded number arrangements. Before I give it to him, remember that all behavioral and physical mods will have to be preceded by a key word. This serum acts on the base of the brain, incorporating the key words into his genetics. It's like teaching him a word or phrase without him ever having to hear it. The brain synapses automatically recognize the word and will react to it, triggering other responses throughout his system. Don't use the word unless you are ready to give him a set of instructions or trigger a physical change with the proper number arrangements. Understand?"

"Yes. What will the key word be?" I heard my mother ask. She asked calmly, as if she were asking the price of lettuce. For Christ sake! What was going on here?!?!

"I chose a word that he wouldn't hear unless you said it. Actually, it's not a real word, there would be too much chance that he might hear it from someone else accidentally. So I made one up. When you're ready to trigger a mod, just say 'Jolexo'. The vowels are clear and can't be confused with other words. Got it?"

My mother repeated the word and then said, "Got it."

Jolexo?!? Key words?!? Mods?!? I was getting real scared and wanted to cry out for my mother to help me. But . . . but, Jesus!, she was part of this!! What were they doing to me?! And why?!? Was this some kind of punishment for letting Cynthia get killed?!?!

I heard them walking towards me and then I could feel someone's hand, probably Sarah's move my head forward, causing my chin to touch my chest. I wanted to bolt out of the chair but I couldn't move!!

Sarah's voice came to me as I felt her move my hair off the back of my neck and felt the cold touch of an alcohol swab there. I was really getting frightened and my heart was racing!!

"This injection will place the serum in the Pons, or base of the brain. It will take effect in just a few minutes, so don't use the key word until I'm through and you have the list with you to refer to."

A second later, I felt the sharp sting of a needle on the back of my neck! It was followed by a slight burning sensation inside my neck that quickly faded! Oh, Shit!! What was she doing to me?!?! God!! Mom!! I'm sorry!! I didn't mean to hurt anyone!! Please!! Don't hurt me!! But I couldn't say any of the things that flooded my head.

As I heard them walk back behind me, I braced for something to happen to me, but I felt nothing other than my inability to move! My heart pounded!

Then I heard another cabinet door open and Sarah spoke to my mother again.

"This injection will place the genetic, DNA, and accelerator serum into his system. It contains all of the necessary instructions for all of the physical mods. In addition, it will incorporate any behavioral mods into his learned muscle responses. He won't have to think about changing his mannerisms, his physical movements and actions, or his behavior when you trigger a response. As you know, we all learn these things as we repeat them while growing up. They become learned responses. He won't need to learn them, they will already be there, waiting to be triggered. But once they are triggered, they become the only responses he has, the others are deleted from his brain. Make sure you're ready for them to occur before you trigger them, otherwise, remember what I said about the person not fitting the image. Understand?"

My mother simply replied, "I understand."

"Good. Here are the two lists." I could hear paper rustling as she spoke. But I wasn't really paying attention to that. I was trying to move!! To get up!! To run!! But . . . it was useless!

"The first list, labeled 'B' for behavior, gives my recomendations for the order in which to modify his behavior in accordance with the phsyical mods. Simply say the key word once, read off the mod or say whatever it is you want him to do, then repeat the key word again when you are done. Speak clearly and slowly, don't rush it. And do it when it's quiet around you, you don't want him confused by background noise or something someone else might say while your giving him an instruction. OK?"

"Ok, I've got it."

"This list, labeled 'P' for physical mods, must be read in order. Each mod is followed by a number code. Say the key word, read off the physical change, then read the number code, then say the key word again. I've listed an example below so you'll remember. Make sure you're alone when you do this, . . . the change will occur almost immediately and you don't want anyone to see it happen. By the way, the physical changes won't hurt him. A special anesthetic releases during the genetic and matter transformation process. He'll just lose mobility while it's happening and then he'll be fine. Understand?"

Again I heard my mother acknowledge that she did.

Jesus Christ!! What was she talking about?!? What was all this about physical and behavioral changes?!?! I don't understand! Why are they doing this to me.

"Now remember that during all of this, he will be completely aware of what's happening. We can't change his memories or the basic persona in his mind. He'll be completely aware of what's happened, he simply won't be able to act in any other way than is prescribed by the mods. Don't worry though, each time we've done this, the subject gave us no problems at all. In fact, you can even place a command in his mind that will allow you to speak with him, as he really is, whenever you want. Just remember to turn it off when you're through, otherwise his physical appearance and physical behavioral won't match with what he says. The command for that is on the last line. OK?"

"OK.", my mother said.

I was so confused!! What were they doing?!?! What was going to happen to me?!?!

I heard them approach me again and them I felt the cold swab on my neck. Once more the stinging sensation and the burning went into my neck. Then it passed, just like before. I thought my heart was going to pound out of my chest! My mind reeled with fear and confusion. I thought I might pass out!

Then I could see Mom sitting down in her chair and watched as Sarah Jensen came around and sat down again at her desk. I looked in horror at the large syringe she placed on the desk in front of her, empty now, the contents of it coursing through my body, doing who knows what!! She took off her lab coat and then took out a pack of Bensen & Hedges 120's cigarettes from the drawer, lighting one and blowing a long stream of white smoke off to one side, eyeing my out of the corner of her eye as she did.

Sarah smiled, saying, "Don't be afraid, Keith. You'll be fine in a few minutes. The drug should wear off shortly and you'll feel fine. I'll leave all of the explanations for this to your mother. If you haven't guessed at what we're doing here by our conversation, I'm sure it'll all be clear to you soon."

I wanted to yell at her, to . . to lash out at her for violating my privacy . . my rights!! But I couldn't do a damn thing!

She looked over at my mother and said, "In a few minutes you should be prepared to give him the first two behavior mods. You don't want him to regain his mobility without some measure of control over him, alright?"

My mother replied, "OK, Sarah. Just let me know when to proceed."

Sarah nodded and then asked, "Are you planning on returning to San Diego with him as he is now, or will you be making some mods first?"

I found that I could move my head a little and I looked over towards my mother. As I was now?!?! Making mods first?!?! What was this!!

"I was hoping to return home with enough basic changes already made so that there wouldn't be any questions about her disappearance. Our flight doesn't leave until seven this evening. We can finish with the rest when we're home. Would that be allright?" My mother replied.

Basic changes?!?! What . . . . ?

"That's fine. That way I'll be able to make sure that everything is working out OK. You can start as soon as you're ready. I assume you brought enough things for him to wear?" Sarah asked.

Wear? I had all my clothes in the guestroom. What was she saying?!

"Oh, yes. I packed enough to get by with. You're sure they'll fit allright?"

Sarah looked at me, noticing that my head was turning freely as I looked first at Mom and then back at her, wondering, trying to piece all of this together!

"No problem. All the changes will be made to exact specifications. If the sample DNA from the hair was only a few weeks old, all modifications will be to the most recent physical standards." Then she looked back at me and said, "He's coming around now, get ready to give the first two commands."

I felt myself relaxing and able to move slightly. I had been feeling it come on as they talked about me like I wasn't there. My fear was gradually being replaced by my anger at the way I was being treated! I was going to get out of here and tell the police everything that happened as soon as I felt I could move!!

Everything!! Including the accident. This was getting out of hand. I wasn't sure what they were up to, but I guessed that I was going to be under some kind of mind control so that I could never tell anyone what happened if she was able to give me those commands. And it also sounded like they were going to somehow change my appearance, make it so no one would recognize me. I guessed it had something to do with my mother getting all of the inheritance for herself. But I wasn't going to hang around and find out. As soon as this stuff wears off, I'm outta here!

I felt my legs move as I sat up slightly. I was OK now, all I had to do was stand up and go for the door! As I leaned forward in my chair, ready to stand up and run, I heard Sarah speak again.

"OK, Susan. Go ahead. He's going to get up."

As I was just about off the chair I heard my mother speak. Clearly and slowly.

"Jolexo! You will remain calm and do as I say. You will not tell anyone about what has happened to you. And you will never speak the key word out loud for any reason. Jolexo!"

Then she said, "Stay where you are, Keith!"

As I came to my feet and turned towards the door, I heard her speak the words and felt a slight burning in my neck. I tried to ignore it and move for the door when I found myself just . . . just standing there! I couldn't seem to make myself go anywhere!! What the hell was this?!?

My mother stood up and walked in front of me. I gave her a pleading look and said, "Oh, Mom! Please! Don't hurt me!! Please let me go!"

My words were calm and barely conveyed my fear and anger. How was this possible?? I was frantic inside!! I had meant to yell it out, but . . . but I spoke as if only slightly agitated! Was it true?!? Was she now able to control me??!!

"Keith," she said, "I want you to thank Dr. Jensen for her help and then follow me upstairs."

Thank her?! I damn well was going to turn her in!!

I looked over at the woman, now being refered to as a doctor and it all made sense. This was some kind of lab! I was going to tell her what I thought of all this and threaten her. But as I spoke, I realized what had been done to me.

"Thank you, Dr. Jensen.", was all that calmly came out. Apparently I would now do whatever my mother said! Shit!! Now I was really frightened! How could I get away?!

"You're welcome, Keith. I hope you will be able to accept your situation and be a help to your mother. I'll see you later for lunch." She smiled as she sat back, taking another languid puff on her cigarette.

Then my mother walked towards the door, telling me to follow her. Though I tried not to, I found that I couldn't help it. The slight burning in my neck grew for a second and I had an absolutely irresistable urge to follow her. And I did! There was no question about it. I had to go with her!

I saw the papers in her hands as I approached the door. I wondered what else they had written on them as we walked down the hallway and turned to go upstairs. Though I was terrified inside, I knew that I could not resist her. I had to go with her!

We went upstairs and I followed her into the room I'd slept in. She closed the door behind me and told me to sit on the bed. I did as she commanded and she went over to the dresser and took out all of my clothes. I wondered what she was up to as I calmly sat there, watching her as she placed the clothes next to the door and then looked down at the papers in her hands. I looked in the bathroom and saw that it had been cleaned up, along with the rest of the room.

I looked back at Mom and asked, "M . . . Mom?"

She looked up at me, no expression on her face.

"Mom? Wha . . . what are you doing with me? Why . . . why are you doing this? Please! I won't tell anyone!! Please stop this!" I felt like I could cry, but I just had to remain calm.

She looked over at me and then walked closer, eyeing me with a slight look of disdain.

"You'll find out soon enough! You didn't think I'd just let eight million dollars fly out the window because of your selfish stupidity, did you?!" She was just barely keeping her anger in check and I was frightened more than ever now. Obviously she had little regard for my own wants at this point!

"Well, . . . you are the reason we are in this situation . . . and you are going to get us out of it! Now keep quiet and get undressed!"

I felt my mouth close, unable to ask her again what she was doing and I also just knew I had to stand up and get undressed! The fact that she was standing there didn't mean a thing. I just stood up and began removing my clothes. In my mind, I cried over my inability to control my actions!! How could anyone do this to me?!?

A moment later I was standing in front of my mother, completely naked!! She just looked down at the pile of clothes on the bed and told me to put them with the other clothes by the door then come back. I resisted inside, but I found that I couldn't help but do as she commanded. A second later I was back, inwardly embarassed by my nakedness, but unable to show it.

"Come over here." she commanded and I followed her over to the free-standing mirror in the corner. She opened the drapes to the window next to where we stood and the room was flooded with sunshine. I glanced out the window to the well groomed yard out back and wished that I was clothed and down there, running for the fence!

"Now . . . you wanted to know what's going on here? Well, I'm about to show you. Look at yourself in the mirror and listen to me."

I looked at my reflection. I stood there, slightly taller than my mother in her heels and saw her looking at me and then down at the list in her hand. I felt my heart race as she started to speak. Clearly and slowly.

"Jolexo. Height and weight. 49837. Jolexo."

As I heard the words and pondered at their meaning, I looked at my reflection. The reflection I was so used to seeing. A seventeen year old young man, maybe not very macho looking, but a young man, nonetheless.

But that didn't last for long! I felt the burning in my neck grow a second later and then I felt a slight numbness creep over me. Now I was really scared! What was happening to me?!?

The answer came by watching my reflection. As I watched, it seemed that my mother was getting taller, the whole room rising up around me!! I watched in sheer horror as a buzzing numbness surrounded me and I actually shrunk several inches in front of my eyes!! Oh, God!! She was making me shorter!! How . . . how could this be!?!

But if that wasn't enough, I also began to get thinner!! The weight, though there wasn't much, seemed to just melt away into nothingness as I watched my mother get taller and the mirror get taller and the ceiling go up!!

A moment later, the buzzing subsided and I was looking at a much shorter image of myself!! There wasn't any excess weight on me and everything about me looked just . . . just smaller!! Oh, God!! What was she doing to me?!?!? And why?!?!

She moved around in front of me, blocking the terrible reflection and actually looked down at me!! Jesus!! In her heels she was at least three inches taller than me now!! How tall was I?!?! My mind was filled with the terror of it!! What would she do next!! Was she trying to turn me into a little boy again!?!?

"Well," she said matter-of-factly, "Sarah certainly knows what she's doing."

Then she looked down at the paper and said, "Five foot five inches and one hundred and ten pounds." Then she looked up at me and said, "That looks about right."

She walked back around behind me and I was left looking at myself again. God!! I looked to be the same size as . . . as (Jesus!) . . my sister was! A fleeting, terrible thought ran through my mind. But I quickly dismissed it and looked at my mother in the mirror. She was reading the paper again.

She looked up and said, "Allright, Keith. Watch yourself in the mirror again. Let's try the next step."

Nooo! I screamed in my mind. Stop this!!

"Jolexo. Basic Figure Modification and Skin Modification. 36712. Jolexo."

As she spoke the words, I looked in horror at my reflection as the numbness spread again and washed over me, the buzzing growing in intensity. I thought I was going insane as I watched my shoulders narrow, my arms shorten, my waist get narrower and rise higher up on my torso and my hips . . Oh, God!! . . . my hips grow outwards into the basic shape of . . . Oh, please Noooo!! . . . the basic shape of . . . of a girl!!!

Oh, God!!! My legs were smoother and . . . and longer now, my thighs larger and more . . . (choke!) . . . more feminine!! Oh, Shit!! She . . . she was making me look like . . . like a girl!!

When the buzzing stopped, I looked clearly at the image that stared back at me now. My heart sank and my fear grew as I looked at myself. Myself?? No. It was a flat chested girl with a penis! Only the face looked familiar, though the soft skin than covered it and the rest of me made me look more like . . . like my sister!!

Oh, God!! That was it!! My . . my mother was . . . . was turning me into . . . Ohhhhhh, Nooooo! It all made sense now!! How she was going to get the money!! I was going to take Cynthia's place!! I . . . . . I was going to become her!!

As this realization came to me, I looked more intently at my reflection. My body now had the shape of a young woman. I didn't have any bosom, but my narrow, high waist, shapely hips, long, smooth legs, narrow shoulders, slender arms, small feet and hands, thin, smooth neck, and smaller head, all encased in the soft, supple skin of a girl, told me that I was right!! Oh, God!!! Please!! Don't do this to me!! I'm a man!! I'm a man!! "Well!", came my mother's voice, "I'm very impressed!! You're starting to look more like her now!" She looked at me in the mirror and my eyes caught hers.

"I suppose you've figured this out by now, Keith." , She used my name with disdain. Taunting me. I hated her!! How could she do this to her own son?!?!

"Since you caused her death, it's only fair that you take her place and make sure we don't loose our inheritance, don't you think?" She grinned evily as she spoke, knowing I couldn't do anything to stop her!

I looked back at my reflection and wished I could look away, but her command to look was still there and I could only cry out in my mind! It was so frustrating!! I was scared and angry at the same time!! I just had to find a way out! But she wasn't finished yet!

"Well, let me see.", she continued as she looked at the paper. "A couple of more things and then we can get on with some of the behavioral mods."

I tried to move!! To turn!! To run!! But I just couldn't!! I had to stay there. Her commands overwhelmed me and my body wouldn't react to my thoughts like it should!!

"Jolexo. Facial Modifications and Hair Modifications. 2749726. Jolexo."

As I stood there, the numbness and buzzing growing about me, I watched in abject fear and terror as my face seemed to move around, blurring my vision. I felt something on my head, but I really couldn't see very well for a moment. Then . . . then my vision started to come back and . . . . and Oh, God!! . . . I could see myself again!!

Myself ?!?! Not any longer. I was looking at . . . (choke!) . . . I was looking at . . Cynthia!! I had her face now!! And . . . . and . . Oh, Shit!! . . . I could see it and feel it on my head and on my narrow shoulders and upper back!! Her hair!! Her long, blonde hair !! Now I had it!!

Oh, Please!! Noooooo!

I squinted at my reflection, through my wide, almond shaped eyes with their long, fluttering lashes!! My eyebrows were thin, arched shapes over my doe-like eyes . . . the eyes I had seen yesterday looking up at me with terror on the cliff face! Now they were mine !! My small, pert nose was a duplicate of Cynthia's and her full pink lips, with their cupid's bow were on my mouth!! Her high cheekbones, small chin and angled, smooth, soft jawline were now on my face!! And the hair!! God!! It was so . . . so soft and long and . . . and there was so much of it!!

I felt ready to pass out from the insanity of it!! I looked just like her!! Except for my flat chest and the smaller, yet distinct penis dangling between my soft, smooth, hairless, girlish thighs! And . . . (choke!) . . . there . . . where my scraggly, brown pubic hair had been . . . Oh, God! . . . I had . . . I had a soft, downy patch of triangular shaped blonde hair!! And the hair on my arms was gone! Only a light dusting of blonde hair!! Soft, light blonde, female hair! As my lips quivered in fear, I saw her lips quiver and I knew it was me!! Oh, Gawwwwwd! Puleeeeease!! Make it go away!!

"My! I really feel like I'm finally getting you back, Cynthia!"

I hated her for calling me that!! How could she?!? I was Keith!! Keith!! Not Cynthia!! But my reflection said different.

"Ok, honey. Go back and sit down on the bed and wait for me. I'll be right back. We have alot to do before our flight leaves tonight."

She walked out of the room as I involuntarily sat down on the bed, unable to resist her commands. I was able to move freely as I sat there and I found myself looking down at my new hands and arms, so slender and soft compared to what I'd had. No male muscles left at all!!

My gaze fell on my flat, smooth chest. Oh, Jesus! I had . . . (choke!) . . . girl's nipples !! No breasts, but there they were. . . . distended, pink, female nipples!! I was miserable inside, cringing at the thought that she expected me to leave here looking like this!!

Then she came back, carrying a pink suitcase that she put down on the bed. I recognized it as the one Cynthia had brought home with her. Now I understood why she had brought it! Oh, Please . . . . Nooooooo!!!

She opened it and took out a small make-up case, some of Cynthia's underwear, a blow dryer, some other plastic bottles, and a small jewelry bag that klinked and jingled as she set it down.

I cringed inside, my mind trying soooo hard to break through her control and take over my own (my own? ) body. I wouldn't, couldn't put those things on!!

She stepped back and looked at me as I sat on the bed, my thighs together so I could hide my maleness.

"OK, Cynthia. It's time we started getting your behavior straightened out. You just can't go on acting like a boy any longer."

She smiled at me and my hatred for her grew! I tried to look away, not listen to her, but she spoke again, refering to the paper in her hand as she did.

"Jolexo. You will perform all physical movements and mannerisms as a young lady would. You will move like a lady, walk like a lady, sit like a lady, stand like a lady, eat like a lady, drink like a lady, and conduct yourself in all physical aspects as a lady would. Jolexo."

As she spoke, the burning in my neck grew slightly and I felt a rush of adrenaline run through me. I tried to blank out what she said, to think of something else, but . . . even as she finished speaking the key word at the end, I felt my back straightening up, my posture changing, and my whole body assuming a new and different feel . . as though . . . Oh, God!! . . . I couldn't remember how it felt to sit any different than I did now!!

I looked down and noticed that I had crossed my legs at the thighs and was leaning back on one hand, the other held femininely across my bare lap!! Oh, Shit!! I was sitting like a girl!! I tried to change my posture . . and for a second I did . . . then . . . . Oh, help me! . . . it felt so awkward . . . so uncomfortable!! I just had to resume sitting like a girl!! Trying to move to a different, less feminine position was making me . . (gasp!) . . . ill!! I couldn't stop it!! Oh, God!! How was she doing this to me!! Why couldn't I stop?!?!

"That's much better, Cynthia.", she said smiling now, "You're doing just fine."

Though I tried desperately to sit up and move away from her, I found that it hurt too much inside . . . like I was trying not to breathe!! It was almost totally automatic, as though I'd never sat any other way!! My hatred for my own mother grew and my disgust over my own actions and appearance made me look away from my own body!! I just couldn't take it!!

"Alright, Cynthia. Please stand up and follow me into the bathroom."

To my surprise, I was able to resist her command and remain seated where I was! I didn't want to move . . and . . and I didn't!! Maybe there was some hope after all! I felt hope well up inside me! Maybe it was wearing off!! Maybe she couldn't really control me after all!

But my rising hopes were dashed as she saw that I wasn't moving and then realized what the problem was.

"Well," she said, looking down at the paper in her hands, "obviously you don't respond to your new name yet. We'll have to take care of that before we go any further."

Oh, God!! I hadn't thought of that! Oh, Please!! Don't make me answer to that name!! Please!!

"Jolexo. From now on, you will respond only to your new name. You will refer to yourself by your new name. You will not respond or refer to yourself at any time by your old name. You will only refer to yourself and respond to your new name. Your new name is Cynthia Louise Bennett. Jolexo."

As the burning in my neck subsided, I didn't feel any different. Maybe she was wrong, I thought. Maybe I was getting my control back. I thought about my name, Keith Allen Bennett. Yes!! It was still there!! I knew who I was!! She had failed!!

"Now Cynthia, please tell me your full name."

As I opened my mouth to speak, I repeated my name in my mind. Keith Allen Bennett . . . . Keith Allen Bennett . . . . . Keith Allen . .

"My name is Cynthia Louise Bennett.", I replied in a slightly higher, more boyish voice than I was used to hearing.

Oh, Shit!! I hadn't meant to say that!! I . . . I was going to say my real name!! Oh, God!! All I had done was open my mouth and it just came out!! I couldn't stop it!!

"That's fine, dear. Now what is your name again? Just your first name dear."

My mouth opened again and this time I put all my effort into sounding out my real, true name.

"My name is Cynthia." Oh, Pleeeeeease, Nooooooo!!

My mother smiled as she watched me tell her exactly what she wanted to hear. God, I hated her!!

Then she frowned a little and refered to her papers again. Now what?!?

"Well, you certainly know what your name is now . . . but . . . I'm afraid you don't really sound like yourself."

She looked up again at me and spoke. Clearly and slowly.

"Jolexo. Voice modification. 427681. Jolexo."

The burning in my neck and the buzzing around my head and neck grew for a moment and then subsided. Oh, God!! Had she really done it?!?! Did I now have . . . (choke!) . . . Cynthia's voice, too?!?!

"Now, Cynthia. Please tell me your full name again."

I tried to keep my mouth closed . . . but . . . . but I just couldn't!! Instead, in the high, lilting, feminine, voice I'd always heard come from my sister, I said, "My name is Cynthia Louise Bennett."

Ohhhhh!! The humiliation!! I was sick inside!! I sounded just like her!! I had her voice!!

"That's much better. Now, Cynthia, please follow me into the bathroom. We still have alot to do."

This time I found myself unable to resist the urge to get up and follow her. And to my everlasting frustration, I stood up, turned and walked the few feet into the bathroom with my hips swaying gently, my small feet taking small, feminine steps, and my hands held gracefully at my side!! Shit!! I was walking just like her!! And I couldn't help it!!

My mother stood by the sink and motioned for me to stand next to her. I did as she commanded and turned to face myself again in the mirror over the counter. Again I was assualted by the reflection of my sister. Only it was me!

She looked me over for a moment, studying my appearance and then refering to the papers in her hands.

"Well, honey, there isn't much more we can do right now. Sarah's recommendations on the list indicate we should wait at least another twelve hours before we make anymore major changes. However, there is one minor physical mod we can finish and some behavioral mods we can get out of the way." She smiled at me in the mirror and then stepped to one side, watching me as she spoke.

I screamed inside as she said the key word that preceeded all the hideous changes she had brought upon me!

"Jolexo. Fingernail Modification. 346234. Jolexo."

As the burning and buzzing in my neck grew, I looked down at my hands, my slender, feminine fingers stretched out in front of me. It was like watching a horror show!! Right in front of my eyes, my short, squared off fingernails just . . . just started growing out!! In a moment they were well past the ends of my slender fingertips!! At least a half-inch past!! God, it was so frightening to know that she could just say the words and . . . and I would become more and more female . . . more and more like my sister!!

The burning subsided and I was left looking at the long, squared off nails on my fingers.

"Well, . . . you're going to have to round them off yourself. And you need to take a shower and shampoo your hair." She said while looking me over again.

She looked down at her watch and said, "I'm going to go downstairs and get some coffee. I'll bring you up some when I'm through. In the meantime, I want you to be able to start getting ready yourself."

She looked down at the paper again and then looked up at me and spoke that terrible word again.

"Jolexo. You are completely familiar with all aspects of feminine hygene. You are completely familiar with the use of cosmetics, make-up, hairstyling, and female clothing. You will always care for yourself in a feminine, ladylike way. You will always wear the proper clothing and make-up for a woman. You are completely able to apply your own make-up, style your own hair, pick out and wear your own feminine clothes, shoes, jewelry, and accessories. You are conscious of your appearance at all times. You will always dress and wear make-up in a feminine and ladylike manner. Jolexo."

Even as she spoke the last word and the buzzing and burning sensation wore off, I realized that she was right. I suddenly knew everything about how my sister dressed, what kind of make-up she wore, how she fixed her hair, how she took care of herself . . . . everything !! Except . . . except it wasn't how she took care of herself . . . it was how I took care of myself!!

Oh, Jesus!! I knew just how I was supposed to look . . . how I was supposed to dress . . . and how to do it!! I even knew what she did in the bathroom!! Right down to how she applied a . . . (choke!) . . . a tampon!!

At least I wouldn't need to do that!!

The worst part wasn't knowing how to dress and wear make-up and whatnot . . . it was knowing that I would have to do it!! I felt the need within me . . . . the irresistable urge to do all of these things to myself!! Just like the need to move like a girl!! It was horrible!!

"Allright, Cynthia. I'll leave you alone for now. Please shower and start getting yourself ready. I'll be back up in a little while. I'll bring you some coffee and then we'll have lunch with Sarah when you're finished."

With that she walked out of the bathroom and out the door of the guestroom.

Though I did not want to do anything but run away and find some help, I soon found I could not resist her command and was walking back into the bedroom towards the items she had placed on the bed.

I picked up a couple of plastic bottles . . shampoo and conditioner, then took out the small plastic case from the suitcase that I knew contained other toiletry articles I would need! God! I actually knew exactly what was in the small case without even opening it up!! Shit!! It was like I was Cynthia!! These were all of her things!! And I couldn't help myself!! If I resisted, it . . . it was like my insides were all twisted and tied up!! I felt absolutely sick if I didn't do what I knew I should!! I was so ashamed and afraid!!

I picked up the blow dryer and then went back into the bathroom. I noticed that I had no trouble with the long nails on my fingers, my hands instinctively adjusted for them, gracefully . . femininely . . . handling the various objects! I looked at them and I knew that they needed filing and . . . (gasp) . . . polishing. I wanted to die!

Setting the case and blow dryer on the sink counter, I went into the shower and turned it on, setting the shampoo and conditioner on the side. Then I stepped in and was soon busy washing and then shampooing my long, blonde hair. I didn't even have to think about it!! It was like I'd done it hundreds of times before! I knew exactly what to do!

As soon as I'd rinsed the conditioner out of my hair, I turned off the shower and stepped out onto the soft rug in front of the sink. I took a towel and patted myself dry and towelled my hair. Then I took a large comb from the case and combed out my long hair until it was hanging damp and straight over my shoulders. Then, without hesitation, I picked up another towel and leaning forward, wrapped it around the back of my head and then twisted it around my hair until it was wrapped girlishly atop my head! Jesus!! I knew just how to do that and . . . and I just had to do it! It just felt right!! It was so frustrating . . knowing what to do and not wanting to do it . . but having to do it anyway!!

Then I reached down and ran my soft hand up my legs. I felt no hair or stubble and was glad that at least I wouldn't have to shave them. I knew that if I'd felt any hair I would have immediately shaved it off. It was what I always did. God!! I was thinking these things involuntarily!! Oh, Please!! Don't make me think like that!! I don't want to be a girl!!

I placed the other towel around my chest, just like a girl would, then reached into the case and pulled out a toothbrush and toothpaste. I brushed my teeth, noting that they were straight and white, the crooked bottom teeth I used to have were gone! I even had her teeth!!

When I was done, I took out a small jar of cold cream and washed my face, knowing that was what I should do next. After that, I took the towel out of my hair and plugged in the blow dryer. Taking out a brush from the case, I turned on the blow dryer and watched in disgust as I expertly dried and brushed out my long, shiny blonde hair. When I was done, my hair, my blonde, feminine hair, hung down the top of my back and draped over my girlish shoulders.

I took the blow dryer back into the room and placed it in the suitcase. Then I took out the steam curlers, knowing full well that I had to curl my hair in a feminine, stylish manner and I knew how to do it! Oh, Lord!! Please get me out of this!!

After plugging in the curlers, I went back in the room and walked over to the bed. I took a small, red leather case out of the suitcase and went over to the vanity table. Sitting down, I opened the manicure case and took out a nail file. I immediately began filing the squared off ends of my long nails into feminine, rounded tips. In about ten minutes, I held my hands gracefully out in front of me and reviewed my work. My long, feminine nails looked perfect and I knew it. The rounded, almost pointed tips were just what I'd known I needed to do. I looked into the mirror and gently shook my head. I felt horrible inside! How could I being doing these things?!?! And why couldn't I stop?!

I stood up, put the manicure kit away and went back into the bathroom. Though I tried to stop it, I felt my hips gently sway back and forth as I walked, unable to walk any other way. I was even holding my left hand up at my side, my wrist as limp as could be, knowing it was the proper thing for a lady to do and helpless to stop doing it!

I opened the now hot steam curler set and began using my brush and comb to separate my long hair into flat sections and then roll it up in the various sized, hot curlers. I knew what it would look like before I began. I was going to style it the same way that Cynthia often did. It would be pulled back and up on my right side and swept back on the left. The large curlers went on the sides and top of the back because the front and top would be straight, the bangs would be feathered, and the rest would tumble down over my shoulders and down my back in a mass of loose curls. I hated the fact that I knew that!!

When I'd placed the last curler into my hair, I went back out to the room in time to see Mom coming in, two cups of coffee on a serving tray.

She looked at me and my embarassment was matched only by my hatred of her.

"Well, Cynthia. I looks like your coming along just fine." She set the tray down on the table next to the chair in the corner and then came back over to stand in front of me. I unconsciously adjusted the towel that I wore femininely about my chest.

She looked closely at me for a moment, my blank stare registering my inability to show my true feelings, then she turned and went over to the bed and looked in the suitcase. I noticed that she had taken my male clothes out of the room when she had left earlier. I didn't have much hope of finding them again and I was sure the suitcase held only girl's clothing!

She reached in and picked up a folded, peach colored dress. Unfolding it in front of her, she smiled and nodded. I prayed that I wouldn't have to put it on! But I also knew that it was a good choice and I probably would have taken it myself, without her help! I couldn't stop thinking like that!

"I think this dress will do, don't you think so, Cynthia?" She asked, half mockingly.

Now that she had asked me something, I was free to speak for the first time in a while. I thought about what to say, but I was limited to answering her question. At least I could tell her what I thought about it.

"I won't wear that. You know this isn't right. You have to stop this!" My girlish, high voice didn't convey the hatred that I tried to put into it, but at least I was able to tell her off! It was somewhat painful to say those words. Every inclination I had was to tell her that I liked the dress. But still, she hadn't commanded me to agree with her and I wasn't going to give her the satisfaction!

She looked at me as I spoke and a frown came to her face. She walked over to me and shook her head slightly.

"My, my! This will never do." She smiled and went over to the bed, picking up the two lists. She looked down at one and then back at me. I braced for the inevitable.

"Cynthia, I won't tolerate any further outbursts like that again. Apparently you need a little more help."

"Jolexo. You will speak and converse in a happy, feminine, ladylike manner at all times. Your tonal inflections will be feminine, ladylike, or girlish, as the situation dictates. You will not refer to your transformation, or speak of anything else that has happened to you in any way, from this moment forward, unless I give you specific permission to speak your true mind. From now on, you will speak, laugh, cry, and converse only as a young lady. Jolexo."

I felt the burning subside and as I did, I felt an irresistable urge to answer her first question again. My heart sank as the girlsh words came from my mouth.

"Oh, Mom! I'm so sorry. I think the dress is just lovely!" I gave her a petulant smile as I spoke, inwardly humiliated that I could sound so girlish and feminine!

"That's better, dear.", she said as she smiled back, "Now have some coffee and then finish getting dressed for lunch." She went over to the chair in the corner and sat down, gracefullly crossing her legs and adjusting the hem of her dress. She picked up a cup, offering it to me.

"Thank you, Mom." I sweetly said as I took it from her. She smiled and I took it over to the vanity and set it down after taking a sip.

Then with a smile still on my lips, I went back into the bathroom.

As I struggled in my mind to regain control over my actions and my speech, I took a bottle of feminine skin lotion out of the case and began applying the scented lotion to my body. The feminine aroma permeated the air and though I cringed inside at it, my senses told me that it was right. That I should like it. I wanted to die!

Then I took out a small spray can and applied some feminine deoderant spray to my hairless armpits.

I walked back out of the bathroom and went to the bed. I took off my towel, and to my horror, picked up the peach colored panties lying next to the suitcase. I stepped into the french cut, silky smooth panties and drew them up over my girlish thighs and let them settle snugly about my feminine hips. I noticed the small protrusion where my now much smaller penis bulged out.

Without even thinking about it, I held open the front of my panties and snaked my slender hand down to tuck my penis back between my thighs. I noticed the pleased look on my mother's face as she observed this and all I could do was smile back. Damn!! Now I was almost flat in front!!

As I picked up the matching, peach bra, it was obvious that I didn't have anything on my chest to fill the large, C sized cups with. Oh, God!! Why did Cynthia have to take after my mother so much?!?! I cried inside at the thought of actually being able to fill them soon!

As I placed my slender arms through the bra straps, I reached behind my back, expertly clasping the ends together, then adusted the front so that it was straight. The bra cups sagged dejectedly, but I knew what I was going to do in spite of my efforts to stop.

I went back into the bathroom and took a large handful of tissues out of the dispenser on the counter. Then I stood in front of the mirror, shocked to see the panties and bra on me and how girlish and feminine it made me look with my hair up in curlers, I began stuffing the tissue into the bra cups until the cups no longer sagged and were adequately filled out. I felt so ashamed inside!! But I only smiled at my reflection and then went back into the room.

My mother was just lighting a cigarette and she smiled at me as she blew a column of smoke over towards the window. I smiled back and then looked into the suitcase again. It was terrible knowing in advance what I was about to do and unable to stop myself from going through with it!

As I sat on the bed and rolled the flesh tone pantyhose up each leg, I couldn't help but notice how pretty it made my legs look. I stood and adjusted the panty top over my hips and up to my small waist, then turned and reached back into the suitcase, taking out a pastel peach colored half slip. Oh, Jesus!! How could they make me do all this?!?!

I stepped into the slinky, silky slip and drew it up to my waist, feeling it hug my hips and thighs, the light, slippery material swishing freely against my nylon clad legs. The lacy hem fell to about five inches above my knees and I instictively knew that the hem of the dress would fall only an inch below that, just like it should.

Then I reached over and picked up the dress. My mind screamed no while I unzipped the back and then raised it over my head, slipped my slender arms through the puffed, half sleeves, and let it slip over me, past the curlers, over my protruding bosom, and into place.

I walked over to my mother, feeling the confining tug of the tight skirt as it hugged my thighs and turned my back to her.

"Mom, would you zip me please?", I sweetly asked.

She leaned forward and I felt the zipper go up until the dress was securely on me. She even tugged a little at the back, adjusting the fit.

I didn't have to see myself to know what I must have looked like. I'd seen my sister in this dress before and I knew it showed off her assets rather well. The rounded top came halfway up the shoulders then fell to an inch or so above my false bosom, a lacy edge running around it and down the back to just above my bra strap. The puffed sleeves stood out from my shoulders and then came to a lacy cuff just above my elbow.

I reached down and clasped the matching cloth belt around my small waist to the rose colored, oval, cloth buckle and then smoothed the tight skirt over my thighs. Seeing how much the tight dress did to acentuate my girlish figure made me cringe inside, but I also felt the satisfaction that was forced on me by the behavior modification that liked the dress!!

I thanked my mother and then went back over to the bed, picking up the small cosmetics case that was lying next to the suitcase. Then, while my mind struggled to stop myself from continuing with this behavior, I went over to the vanity, pulled out the small, padded bench and sat down gracefully, smoothing my dress under my thighs and crossing my nylon covered ankles under the bench, keeping my legs together.

I turned on the small lamp next to the ornate mirror and then opened the cosmetics case.

I took out a small bottle of make-up and opened it. Taking a couple of tissues from the dispenser on the vanity, I proceeded to dab some of the light toned make-up onto my finger and then commenced to apply it sparingly to the soft , clear skin on my new face. Blending it in and occasionally using a tissue to smooth it over, I soon had acheived the effect I knew I was after. As my inner self felt my embarassment, my lips smiled at the peaches and cream complection that shone back at me from the mirror.

Then I put the bottle away, taking out another small plastic case and opening it up. I knew it was eyeshadow even before I opened it and I felt my shame inside as I expertly applied the light rose and soft earth tone shadow to my upper lids and under my arch, feminine eyebrows. Blending and smoothing the color upwards and out to the side, I soon created the effect I knew I was after. It was humiliating to know all about how to apply it, even darkening the shadow in the crease of my lid to creat the illusion of larger, softer eyelids. A little of the rose shadow along the top of the lower lid completed my efforts there.

Then out came a small, sharp eyeliner pencil. I leaned close to the mirror, holding my eyes just so as I applied the eyeliner gracefully around each eye, blending it out and slightly upwards on the outer corners, thicker there and making my eyes appear even larger now.

When I was done, I looked closely at myself, fluttering my long lashes and looking pleased with my efforts. Then, not even phased by my inner anquish, I took out a tube of masscara and began applying the dark liquid to first the upper and then lower eyelashes. I cried out in my mind in anger and frustration as I watched my long, curved eyelashes become thicker, darker, and longer right in front of me.

With that done, I took out a small plastic case and opened it. I removed the small brush that was shaped like a tiny toothbrush and began darkening and highlighting my thin, arched eyebrows. A minute later they were properly done, arching femininely over my butterfly-like eyes.

Then I picked out another, larger plastic case and opened it up. I took out the long, soft brush and dabbed it in the small tub of pink-rose blusher. Then I looked back into the mirror and began applying the soft color to my cheeks, blending the feminine blusher up towards my ears, acheiving the pretty, yet sexy look that I knew I had to have. I looked at my reflection now, noting how much more mature and provocative I now appeared and my hopes for release from this torture plummeted.

I put away the blusher and opened a small compact case, delicately applying a light powder my chin, nose, and forehead. Then I placed all the items back in the larger case and left it on the vanity as I got up and walked, hips femininely swaying, into the bathroom.

I looked again at my image in the mirror, knowing that part of me that under my mother's control was pleased with what I saw. I started removing the curlers from my hair and watched as my long, blonde hair began to fall, one handful at a time, over my shoulders and down my back.

When all the rollers were out, I picked up my brush and began styling my hair. It took a while, first brushing out the curled hair and then working to get the style just so. Watching my reflection as I behaved in a perfectly girlish way, holding a bobbypin between my full lips, and reaching up to secure my hair up on one side with a pearl lined clip, then allowing the back to cascade in a mass of curls down onto my shoulders, was awful! How could she?!? Didn't she know what this was doing to me?!?! I was a man dammit!! Not this . . . this beautiful woman!!

By the time I was done, my honey blonde hair looked perfect. Though I smiled at myself in the mirror, I was miserable inside! I looked in shame at how my feathery bangs gracefully swept across the front to the left side, the mass of gently curled hair on the left swept back and then down over my shoulder, and the hair on the right side of my feminine head was straight and swept up to the pretty clip where it then fell down the backside and behind my small ear. I knew it was what was expected of me. I'd seen my sister wear her hair like this many times before. She was always so proud of it. I wondered if she was somewhere now, looking down at me, looking down at herself, and feeling my inner pain and suffering.

Now I knew I was almost done. I walked out into the room, noting that my mother still sat in the chair, sipping her coffee and watching me, a wry, cunning smile on her painted lips. How I hated her!!

I put most of the items back into the suitcase, then picked up the small bag that had jingled and clinked earlier. I knew what it contained.

Stepping over to the vanity again, I unzipped the bag and looked inside. The first thing I did was remove the diamond ring I'd seen my mother take from my dead sister's hand yesterday. I slipped it on to the ring finger of my right hand, noting that the small ring easily fit over my now slender, feminine finger. Then I took out a single stranded necklace of white pearls. I clasped it about my slender neck and saw that it hung down almost to the top of . . . (choke!) . . . my dress, where it rested gently against my now soft skin.

Reaching back in the small jewelry bag, I took out a pair of bracelets, sliding them over my left hand so that the two, coral colored hoops dangled loosely from my slender wrist, sliding up and down my forearm whenever I lifted my left hand upwards. Their clinking as they fell together served only to remind me of my predicament.

Then I removed my sister's small, thin banded gold wristwatch and placed it on my right wrist. Lastly, I reached into the bag and came up with a pair of pearl-drop earrings. The two inch strand was attached to a rose colored opal button about a half-inch wide. The post on the back was obviously for pierced ears and much to my dismay, as I leaned into the mirror to attach them, I noted that both of my small ears were now pierced. I attached the dangly, feminine earrings to my ears and smiled at my reflection as I shook my head slightly, watching them sway and feeling them dance lightly against my neck. It was so embarassing!!

I turned back to the bed, replacing the jewelry bag in the suitcase and then reached in and took out the pair of rose colored, high heeled pumps I'd seen in there earlier and had inwardly dreaded wearing. This was insane!! I can't wear those!! The heels were at least two and a half inches high!! And the heels were so thin!! I'd never be able to walk in them!!

But I simply reached down and placed them on my small feet, one at a time, adjusting quickly and easily to my added height and the pencil-thin heels. God!! Was there no limit to the things I could be forced to do?!?!

I walked, taking mincing, hip swaying steps back to the vanity, listening to the distinct clicking of my heels on the hardwood floor . . . hearing the unmistakable sound that announces a woman's arrival. My mind cried for my misfortune, but my dainty fingers just moved gracefully over to the cosmetics case and reached back into it again. I knew what I was about to do, but it seemed the final blow to male ego, what there was left of it.

As I uncapped the lipstick tube, I cringed inside as I twisted the base of the tube and watched the shiny, creamy, pink-rose lipstick come into view. I leaned again into the mirror, holding my now full, sensuous lips femininely apart and expertly smoothed the creamy color onto my lips. I was assaulted my the taste and the aroma of the bright lipstick as my lips were transformed into the sexy, kissable lips my sister had. But now they were mine!

As I capped the tube, I gently, sensuously, rolled my lips together to even out the color, just like I knew I should. Once again I reached into the case and a moment later I was applying a matching, pink-rose nailpolish lacquer to my long, femininely shaped fingernails. I was careful, applying the bright, shiny polish in two even coats, then daintily blowing on them, my painted lips pursed as I blew on the wet looking nails until they were dry. Now my hands looked every bit as feminine and ladylike as I'd ever seen. There was no end to my continuing humiliation!!

Then I turned back to the bed and reached in one last time into the suitcase. I lifted out a shiny, rose colored purse that matched my shoes. I unclasped the top and placed my lipstick and small compact in, noticing that my sisters wallet and ID was already inside. My mother hadn't forgotten anything. I knew that to everyone now, I was Cynthia Louise Bennett . . . a twenty year old female!

I turned back to the vanity, looking into my purse and taking out a small bottle of perfume. It was labled 'Chanel #5'. My inner embarassment at it's peak, I smelled the feminine aroma waft around me as I gracefully dabbed the scent to my wrists and behind my ears. Then I put it back in my purse and placed the cosmetics case back in my suitcase. God!! I couldn't believe it!! I was completely dressed up, made-up, and scented up as a . . a woman!! And there was no doubt that I looked every bit as much a pretty young lady as my sister had! There couldn't be . . . I was my sister now . . . . . in almost every way! I shuddered inside to think of what would come later as I was made to be exactly like her! Damn!! How could I get away?!?!

But as these thoughts ran through my mind, I turned and walked gracefully over to stand in front of my mother, smiling and pirouetting in front of her on my heels and asking in a girlish, happy tone, "Well, Mom. How do I look?"

My mother stood and smiled as she looked me over, obviously pleased to she that I could carry out all of her commands so easily.

"You look just lovely, Cynthia. You're such a beautiful young lady. I'm very proud of you."

Though I smiled at her, looking at her at eye level now in my own heels, I wanted so bad to tear off the feminine clothes and run screaming out of this insane asylum!! Instead I just giggled once and thanked her.

"Now, dear. Why don't we go downstairs and have some lunch with Sarah. I know she's dying to see how pretty you've turned out." She walked towards the door and I followed, walking every bit as gracefully and seductively as she did, listening to the feminine clicking of our heels as we moved out the door and into the hallway. Oh, Shit!! I was going to go out in front of other people dressed like this!! Oh, God!! Please!! Make it stop!!

I had placed the short strap of my purse over my left arm, letting it rest in the crook of my elbow, my left hand raised gracefully upwards as we strolled down the hallway to the stairs. I caught my reflection in a large mirror that hung at the end of the hallway and though I smiled sweetly at my reflection, I cried inside at the sight of my sister walking towards the mirror, dressed up very nice, looking every bit as beautiful as I remembered her, but knowing that it was now me!!

I felt my long hair bounce seductively against my back and shoulders as we descended the staircase. I felt so ashamed!! I . . . I just couln't do anything about it!!

As we stepped onto the floor below, we turned left once again and I found myself back in the dining area, standing next to my mother and smiling, obviously waiting for Sarah. The table was set for four and and I shuddered inside, wondering who might else be joining us.

As she entered the room from the kitchen, I saw that she had changed into a stylish blue dress. She wore matching heels and her hair had been done up. She wore more make-up now and her appearance was much softer and more feminine than the cruel, harsh creature I remembered as having done this to me!! Still, though she looked much better now, my hatred for her and my mother had not lessened. How dare they?!?!

She smiled as she saw me and came around the table to stand in front of me, looking me over and smiling back at my mother.

"Oh, Susan! I had no idea your daughter was so pretty!! I'm so glad everything is working out so well!! She's just . . . just perfect!!"

My inner embarassment grew as I stood there and smiled, listening to my mother's reply.

"Oh, Sarah!! It's you who should be proud. We never could have done this without you! Thank you so much!"

Sarah smiled and turned back to the table, sitting down where she had sat before. My mother and I sat across from her. I was very conscious of my appearance as I sat, knowing Sarah followed my every movement as I femininely smoothed my dress underneath my thighs and crossed my legs gracefully. I placed my purse on the table and then looked over at my mother.

She smiled and said, "Cynthia, honey. Why don't you thank Sarah for helping to make you such a beautiful young lady." She looked over at Sarah and continued, "Her voice just came out perfect, Sarah, and I want you to hear her."

I cringed inside, trying desperately not to speak, hating being put on display like this. But my smile only remained as I parted my painted lips and spoke in my girlish, high voice. My sister's voice.

"Thank you, Sarah." I even blushed a little as I spoke, knowing it was then ladylike thing to do and unable to stop it from happening!! God!! This was so humiliating!!

"You're welcome, Cynthia." She replied.

Then she looked over at my mother and asked, "Did you stop the process where I recommended on the list, Susan?" She looked back at me and eyed my ample, false bosom.

"Yes, Sarah. I stopped where you indicated I should. However, I did skip ahead one item to get her fingernails out to full length. I hate those fake nails and I wanted her to feel more natural."

"Oh, that's no problem. In fact, there are a few other things you could do if you want before tommorow. You'll notice that they are the items later on the list that are marked by an asterisk. It really doesn't matter when you do them. But I placed them where they are for continuity."

My mother nodded, looking once again at the list and smiling, nodding her head up and down as she looked it over. I didn't look at the list, afraid of what I might see was left to come!

Sarah looked over at me and smiled again, then asked my mother, "Have you made sure that you have given her all the behavioral mods that she'll need to fit into her new role properly?"

My mother looked up from the list and replied, "I think so. We covered several things up in the room, but there are still a few other things that I was saving for later. I thought you might want to observe them, too. And if you have any suggestions, please feel free to mention them. I want to make sure there is nothing missing from her normal behavior . . . . nothing to draw undue attention to herself. I'm sure you must have changed some things since experimenting on your first subject."

Sarah nodded and answered, "That's right. After the first try, we noticed some errors in the way the subject assimilated the behavior of the donor's DNA. Sometimes there were abhorrations in the translation. But, we haven't had any problems where the two individuals involved were closely related." She looked over at me and smiled, "I'm sure she'll do just fine."

My mother was reaching into her purse for her cigarettes as she asked a question that I, too, was wondering.

"That's comforting to know. By the way, how many transformations have you done?"

Sarah straightened up, smiling, obviously enjoying talking about her work.

"Well, let's see. We've done four same sex transformations. That is, we've changed two males to other males and two females into other females. Those are fairly easy and we did them primarily for government agencies. You know, witness protection programs and a couple of CIA operative jobs. They were actually the first tests we did. We were originally funded by the government and I can't really go into those cases." My mother nodded, understanding the secrecy involved there.

"Then, we received government approval to test out some gender changing experiments. We've done three so far. Cynthia makes the fourth. Of course, as I explained to you before, this is all still very top secret and I'm relying on you to keep this quiet. The advantage to this type of proceedure lies in it's secrecy." My mother nodded again and I knew that I would, too, never be able to speak of this. Even thinking about telling someone caused my to feel ill!

Sarah went on.

"The first sex change proceedure was with a volunteer. A young man who was working with the CIA in a foreign country. He was twenty-three at the time. We used a twenty-one year old woman from the agency as the DNA donor. He turned out just fine, but we had some problems with his personality and behavioral mods. It seems the female donor was, shall we say, a bit promiscuous and he, or shall I say she became a bit of a problem. The CIA eventually asked us to reverse the process. I'm afraid she died in the attempt. That's when we learned that the process was irreversible. Any attempt to change the subject back placed too extreme a stress on the nervous system. Once changed, it's for good."

Oh, God!! That was it!! There was no going back for me if they completed the process!! And at best, even if they stopped now, I would be a male that appeared to be a girl!! Even if they stopped this now!! My hopes became non-exisistent! Oh, God!! Why me?!?

Sarah continued, my mother listening intently, obviously intrigued by Sarah's description of the other subjects changes. I sat smiling, listening out of fear and hoplessness.

"The next subject was a woman who had been left for dead after a botched assignment for the FBI. She was in pretty bad shape, a victim of the Mafia. But they nursed her back to health and needed her to go back in undercover to finish the assignment. There was just no way to get her back in as a woman, so she was asked to undergo the process and go in as a man. I'm really not sure if she volunteered or was forced into it some way. In any event, the process worked well with her because we used a cousin of her's as the donor. She's still working for them I hear and doing just fine, except he is now married to one of the Mafia bosses daughters! I've always wondered what that must have been like for her."

She laughed a little and my mother and I giggled. I was unable to act any other way. Shit!!

"The last time I did this was a little different. It was the first time I did one on my own . . . that is, I didn't have any orders to do it from the government."

My mother leaned closer, listening intently as Sarah continued.

"I came home one evening from a meeting in Washington. When I came in, Gerald, my driver, who is also a government security agent assigned to watch over the lab, told me he had caught someone burglarizing the house. Gerald's been with us now for almost five years and he knows everything that goes on here. He was about to call for the local police when I came in."

Now I was getting intrigued. I shifted on my chair, adjusting the hem of my dress and re-crossed my legs, my hands, folded demurely in my lap. I licked my lips, tasting my lipstick as I did and listened.

"It seems the young man he caught was a vagrant, travelling through the area and looking for some easy cash. We're still not sure how he got over the fence without setting off any alarms and he didn't seem willing to tell Gerald about it, even under the type of questioning that Gerald is trained for. Well, needless to say, I didn't want the local authorities poking around here and Gerald decided that was best, too. But we were in a quandry as to what to do about the young man sitting locked up in the lab where Gerald had put him.

"That's when Gerald reminded me of how often I had been complaining about not being able to hire a decent maid to help with the house. So to make a long story short, we used the DNA from a sample of hair we had from a young woman of about eighteen that had participated in a sampling we'd held in Florida the year before. I believe she was a high school cheer leader. Then we put the young man, who was about twenty-two, through the process, changing him into a lovely, eighteen year old girl. The behavior mods were easy, I just turned him into a domestic, able to cook and clean and help me around the house."

Then she winked at my mother and softly added, "And Gerald put in a few mods of his own. Now Gerald doesn't take any time off at all to go into town, unless it's with Jennifer, if you know what I mean." She laughed devilishly and so did my mother.

Oh, my God!! The maid!! That pretty, young woman was . . . Oh, God!! . . . she . . . he was just like me!! Only he was . . . (gulp!) . . . completely changed and . . . and the driver was . . . . Oh, God!! . . . I couldn't think of it!

My mother lit a cigarette and Sarah lit one of her own. I sat smiling, unable to register on my face the shock I felt inside over how cunning and evil these women were! Oh, God!! That poor guy!! Forced to be a maid and . . . and a whore for the driver!!

As my mother and Sarah finished their cigarettes, I heard someone coming in from the living room and turned to see Gerald entering. He was as big, if not bigger than I remembered and he looked at me carefully, a smile that was difficult to read on his lips. He was wearing a plain, gray suit. Now that I knew what he was, he looked every bit the part of a government agent. Though I was embarassed by my appearance, I knew that he only saw me as another experiment of the evil doctor. Still, it was very humiliating to know that I had once been a man and now was being viewed as a pretty young woman by another man who knew it too.

"Oh, Gerald," Sarah said, "you're just in time for lunch. Would you please ask Jennifer to serve us now?"

Gerald smiled and nodded, replying,"Yes, Doctor. I'll tell her now."

Then he went into the kitchen and I heard him say something before he returned and sat down across from me, next to Sarah.

"Gerald," Sarah said as she stubbed out her cigarette in the crystal ashtray in front of her, "I would like you to meet Cynthia Louise Bennett, Susan's daughter."

He smiled as he partially stood up and gave a slight bow.

"Pleased to meet you, Ms. Bennett." he politely said.

I felt my embarassment grow and my humiliation peak, but I only shifted slightly in my chair and sweetly replied, "How do you do, Gerald."

He smiled and so did I, unable to keep from looking at him as he gave me a slight wink and then settled into his chair. Oh, God!! Don't smile back!! Don't encourage him!! You know what he does to the other . . . (choke!) . . . girl!!

But he only turned his attention to the kitchen door when we all heard the clicking of high-heels as Jennifer, the maid , came in carrying a large tray in her small, feminine hands.

She was still wearing the maids outfit I'd seen her in earlier. She looked once at me, a momentary sad, sympathetic look on her pretty face. I looked away after a second, unable to stand the thought that she had once been a young man!

She resumed smiling and set out our lunch, small sandwiches and some juice. When she was done she stood by the door and said in a sweet, high pitched, obedient voice, "Will that be all, Doctor Jensen?"

Sarah smiled and said, "That will be fine, Jennifer. Have you already eaten?"

Jennifer smiled and replied, "Yes, Ma'am."

"Then why don't you go to your room and change into something more appropriate and join us for coffee in the living room after we've finished our lunch?"

Jennifer smiled and replied, "Yes, Ma'am." Then she left, going back into the kitchen.

Sarah took a small bite from a sandwhich, passing the tray around to my mother and then said, "I'm sure you'll enjoy talking to Jennifer after we've had lunch. It'll help you to see how well things will work out with Cynthia."

My mother nodded, handing me the tray after she'd taken a sandwich and replied, "Oh, I'm sure it'll be fun. And maybe Cynthia can learn something from her, too." She smiled at me as she finished her sentence. Though I smiled back, I felt like telling her she could stuff it!! But I wasn't able to act like anything other than the young lady I appeared to be.

I took a sandwhich from the tray and then placed it on the table. Taking small, dainty bites, I alternately ate and sipped from the glass of fruit juice infront of me. After the first drink, as I set the glass back on the table, I cringed inside at the sight of the bright, pink-rose lipstick mark I'd left on the rim!! Oh, Sweet Jesus!! Wasn't there anything I could do?!?!

By the time we'd finished lunch, the my mother and Sarah had chatted at some length over old times, talking about their college days and some of the people they'd known. No one would have suspected there was anything out of the ordinary had they been watching.

When my mother took her lipstick and compact out of her purse, I found myself unable to resist doing the same.

As I opened my compact and held it in front of my face, I could see Gerald and Sarah watching me. I wanted to throw the compact at them and run, but instead I fluffed my long, blonde hair a few times, them opened the lipstick, gracefully and femininely applying a fresh coat to my full, pretty lips. Then I rolled them together and smoothed it around as I replaced the items in my purse. My mother and Sarah smiled knowingly and Gerald even grinned a bit, aware of who and what I'd been when he'd driven me here. God!! It was sooooo embarassing!!

Then we all stood and walked into the living room. Gerald had even helped me with my chair and I, unable to act like anything other than a perfect lady, smiling sweetly and thanking him in my sweet, feminine voice!!

We entered the living room and Sarah took a seat in a large chair facing the sofa. My mother sat on the sofa and motioned me to sit next to her. I sat down a few feet from her, near the center of the large sofa and placed my purse on the coffee table in front of me. Gerald had gone into the kitchen to get our coffee.

A moment later, I could hear the sound of high-heels clicking on the kitchen floor. There was some muffled conversation coming from the kitchen and I surmised that Gerald was speaking to Jennifer. Then I could hear high heels on the dining room floor and a second later Jennifer came into the living room.

God!! I couldn't believe it! She was . . . gorgeous!! She had changed into a short, tight red dress and her large breasts fairly pushed out the top of it!! She was wearing matching, shiny red leather, spiked heel pumps. Her face was made-up immacuately and her shiny red lips were in a perpetual smile! I couldn't imagine what she . . . er, he must have felt like inside!

She came in and sat down in a two place sofa across from me and Mom. She set her red purse down on the table next to her and crossed her long, shapely legs at her exposed thighs. Jesus!! She looked just like a high classed call-girl!! Her diamond drop earrings swung freely about her slender neck and her long, shiny red nails looked so different from the demure pink ones she'd wore earlier. I was amazed at the difference!

Sarah smiled, watching the reaction from my mother since I could only smile and act ladylike.

"Quite a difference, don't you think, Susan?", she asked coyly.

My mother raised her eyebrows and nodded, looking wryly over at her friend.

Sarah chuckled and said, "Like I said, Gerald had a few behavior mods for Jennifer of his own design."

My mother just nodded and gave a Jennifer a smile. Jennifer could only smile back.

Sarah looked over at me and then at Jennifer, saying, "Cynthia, I'd like you to meet my maid and Gerald's girlfriend, Jennifer Lynnette Anderson. Jennifer, this is Cynthia Louise Bennett."

Jennifer smiled at me and in her high, girlish voice said, "Hello, Cynthia. Pleased to me you."

I tried to look away, but only smiled sweetly and replied, "Nice to meet you, Jennifer." My sweet, feminine voice betrayed my inner anxiety over talking to this . . . this beautiful young woman who I knew had the mind of a the young man that she used to be!

Gerald came in with a tray of coffee and gave each of us a cup before settling down next to Jennifer. To my embarassment, and I'm sure to her's , he placed his arm around her shoulders and gave her a slight squeeze. She could only smile and gaze momentarily up into his eyes.

Sarah lit a cigarette and then blew a column of smoke off to one side before looking over at my mother and said, "If there is anything else you'd like to try or do for Cynthia, Susan, now would be a good time. I would be more than happy to help you out with any suggestions or have Jennifer demonstrate her own conditioning, if you think it would help you out."

My mother smiled at her friend as I felt my inner anxiety rise at the thought of more changes being forced on me.

My mother looked over at me and then back at Sarah, replying, "You know, Sarah, I was wondering, . . . will Cynthia be able to do everything that her sister did? I mean . . . her sister had many different aspects to her personality and habits. Will Cynthia assimilate all of these automatically or will I have to give her all the necessary commands to do so?"

Sarah sat up, exhaling another stream of smoke from her lips as she replied, "She will assimilate almost everything her sister did in a natural way, but some things may require a command. What did you have in mind?"

My mother took out her cigarettes and lit one, then blew a stream of smoke off to the side and as she watched me. Then she looked back at Sarah and said, "Well, her sister smoked. And I haven't seen any inclination on Cynthia's part to do so."

Oh, God!! Please!! Not that!! I don't and . . . and won't do that!! Please!!

Sarah raised her eyebrows a bit and then looked over at Jennifer and then back at me. Finally she looked at my mother and said, "Well, . . . I really don't know if she'll start doing that on her own or not. I'm sure you'll want to make sure she does everything just like her sister, so . . . I suppose you should just give her the proper command and let it go at that. It can't hurt to be redundant with behavior mods."

My mother looked at me as my eyes pleaded with her not to do this to me!! Then she looked at Sarah and asked, "Does it matter if I say the keyword in front of Jennifer?"

I could see Jennifer fidget a little and look at me, sympathy registering behind her smiling face.

Sarah said, "No, but first we should give them both commands to never say the other one's keyword out loud. Then they'll never be able to override a command for each other if they are alone before you leave this evening."

My mother nodded and in a few moments we had both been commanded never to use each other's keyword out loud. When they were through, I knew I could never say Jennifer's keyword any more than I could say my own.

Then my mother looked over at me and spoke slowly and clearly. I recoiled inside, but was not able to stop myself from hearing her.

"Jolexo. You will begin smoking ladies cigarettes just as your sister did. You will normally smoke the same brand as her and you will do so in the same fashion and manner as she did. You will always smoke like a lady and allow a gentleman to light your cigarette for you when offered. You will smoke as often as she did, about a pack and a half a day, and you will not quit smoking unless I tell you to. Jolexo."

I felt the burning in my neck subside and realized that I didn't feel any different than I did before she had spoken. Except . . . except I felt a . . . a strange need . . . or desire within me. I wondered at it, but before I could think about it very long, I found myself reaching for my purse and opening it.

I looked inside, now understanding what I was looking for and feeling my shame renew itself, when I realized that what I wanted wasn't in there. I looked up to my mother, and with feigned frustration in my female voice, said, "Oh, darn! Mother, I've run out of cigarettes, could I please have one of yours?"

I was crying out in humiliation and frustration in my mind as she smiled and handed me her pack of Virginia Slims. I knew the long, white, slim ladies cigarettes were not my brand, but the desire . . . the irresistable need for a cigarette told me to have one of hers. I could buy a pack of my brand, Eve 120's, later.

I gracefully pulled one of the long, white cigarettes out of the pack and held it femininely between the tips of my fingers of my right hand, looking back in my purse for my lighter. Realizing it wasn't there, I looked back towards my mother, but was stopped by the sight of Gerald leaning over towards me, a lighter in his hand as he said, "Please. Allow me."

Instead of recoiling away from him as I wanted to, I smiled and said, "Oh . . thank you, Gerald." Then I brought the slim filter up between my lips as he flicked the lighter on and leaned towards him, steadying his hand with my left one and bringing the end of the ladies cigarette into the flame.

I leaned back, drawing lightly on the cigarette and then parted my pink-rose lips, withdrawing the cigarette from them and bringing it to rest gracefully up near my shoulders, my right arm bent at the elbow and resting against my side, my wrist thrown back gracefully. As I inhaled the smoke deep into my lungs, I could feel the desire I'd had a moment ago abate. I was still smiling as I turned my head slightly and blew a long white column of smoke up and away from the others. Then I looked at my mother and said, "Thanks, Mother, I must have left mine at home."

She smiled and said, "Oh, that's OK, dear. You can pick some up at the airport later when we leave. In the meantime, keep that pack. I have another."

"Thanks, Mother. I owe you one.", I sweetly replied, bringing the feminine cigarette back to my lips and taking another languid, feminine puff, fulfilling the need that I couldn't control.

I noticed Gerald looking at me, a slight smile on his lips as I exhaled the smoke out from between my lips. I got the impression he was enjoying watching me as I was forced to smoke the slim cigarette like a lady would. But I could only smile and act like I'd always smoked, never giving any hint of the anger and fear inside of me.

I leaned forward and tipped the ash of my cigarette into the ashtray in front of me. I did so as femininely and ladylike as my mother had ever done and I was ashamed by the sight of the bright lipstick mark on the filter as I leaned back and took another puff.

My mother smiled at Sarah and said, "Well that worked out fine. I'm going to have to make sure I remember everything about her sister's habits and incorporate them into her own as I think of them."

Sarah looked over at me and then back at my mother.

"You know, I have been wondering how difficult it would be to modify a subject into a behavior that neither the subject nor the donor ever had indulged in before. This might be a good time to try it out."

She looked over at Jennifer and then at Gerald.

"Gerald, do you recall if Jennifer smoked prior to her transformation?"

Gerald looked thoughful for a moment and then said, "I don't believe so, Doctor. But it was only about a day the he was held here before you began the process."

Sarah looked thoughtfully at Jennifer, who was fidgeting slightly and looking down at her lap.

"Ekala. Jennifer, I want you to speak as your true self. Answer me truthfully. Did you smoke prior to your transformation. Ekala"

Jennifer looked up at Sarah, apparently able to speak freely now that she had been commanded to do so. Her smile vanished and she sat upright, moving slightly away from Gerald as she did.

"No, Doctor. I didn't! And I won't now either!! You people are crazy!! You can't do this to . . . ."

She was cut off by Sarah's stern, quick voice.

"Ekala. That's enough, Jennifer. You will now assume your proper role as my maid and Gerald's girlfriend. Ekala."

I watched as Jennifer resumed her ladylike posture and leaned slightly back to Gerald as the smile resumed on her pretty face. Apparently, even after such a long time, the male inside of Jennifer was as rebellious as ever. I only hoped I would be able to resist as long. Maybe there would be a way out of this after all. But my hopes were fading as I took another puff from my cigarette, looking ever more like the sophisticated young lady I knew my sister always tried so hard to present.

Sarah looked over at Gerald and said, "Gerald, if you don't mind, I would like to try a little experiment with Jennifer. I'm sure her donor wasn't a smoker either, being a cheerleader and all, so I would like to see if the behavior mod process could incorporate that behavior into her personality as easily as it did for Cynthia. Alright?"

Gerald looked over at me as I exhaled a column of smoke seductively out from between my painted lips and then he looked back at Sarah and replied, "Sure, Doctor. I don't mind at all."

Sarah smiled and I looked at Jennifer, seeing a small measure of anxiety show through in her beautiful eyes. I felt sorry for her (him ) , knowing that in a moment she'd be forced again to do something against her will.

Sarah looked over at Jennifer and spoke slowly and clearly.

"Ekala. Jennifer, you are a cigarette smoker. You only smoke long, white, ladies cigarettes. You smoke about a pack and a half a day. You smoke the same brand as I do, Bensen & Hedges 120's. You will not smoke when acting as my maid, unless you do so on your breaks, in your room. But you will smoke as often as I've commanded you to when you are off duty, such as now. You will always smoke in a ladylike and gracefull, seductive way. You especially enjoy having Gerald light your cigarettes for you, just like a lady would. You will do this as I've commanded. Ekala."

I watched as Jennifer's eyes had glazed over slightly when Sarah began speaking. Did mine do that, too? Oh, God!! Now she was just smiling again and reaching for her purse.

I watched her open her shiny red purse and look inside, a look of disappointment on her pretty, sexy face. She looked up at Gerald and said with a pout in her voice, "Oh, Gerald, I'm out of cigarettes again. Would you be a dear and get me fresh pack?"

Gerald smiled and replied as he stood up, "Sure thing, honey. I'll be right back."

I felt the anquish I knew Jennifer must have felt as I reached forward and put out my cigarette in the ashtray on the coffee table, blowing one last stream of smoke off to the side.

Sarah and my mother just watched as Gerald came back into the room, a freshly opened pack of cigarettes, a gold colored pack of Bensen & Hedges 120's like Sarah smoked, in his hand. He sat down next to Jennifer again and she looked up at him, smiling brightly as she took the pack from him.

"Thank you, sweetheart.", she sweetly said.

Then, without hesitation, she plucked one of the extra long, white cigarettes from the pack, holding it femininely between her fingers as though she'd done it a million times before and turned back towards Gerald, holding the cigarette a couple of inches from her shiny red lips.

"Would you give me a light please, honey?" She softly said.

Gerald reached into his coat pocket and brought out a lighter. As he flicked it to life, I watched in shame as Jennifer brought her free hand up to steady his, tilting her head slightly to one side as she brought the long, feminine cigarette to her lips, gracefully guiding the end into the flame, then drawing seductively on it while looking up into his eyes, as though she was seducing him with her actions. She leaned back slightly, now withdrawing the filter from her bright red lips and then still holding on to his hand, blew a soft stream of smoke over the flame of the lighter as it went out, smiling up at Gerald as she did. Then she leaned back and took another puff, smiling over at me as she did and acting as if nothing was wrong.

Sarah smiled over at her as did my mother, obviously pleased with the results.

"Well I guess that answers my question.", Sarah said. "Gerald, you may cancel that command at any time you wish. I'll leave it up to you."

Gerald was still smiling, staring at Jennifer as she took another lanquid puff on her cigarette, then lazily exhaled a column of smoke up and away from her.

"Thank you, Doctor. I'll keep that in mind."

It was obvious he enjoyed watching her behave like that and I knew he had no intention of stopping her from doing it. I tried not to think of the other things he must have had her do.

My mother and Sarah smiled at each other. It was becoming very evident that they enjoyed this level of control over others and I began to realize that my mother was not only unconcerned about how this bizarre change was effecting me . . . she was enjoying it!

As I watched Jennifer take another drag on her long, ladies cigarette, exhaling the smoke sensuously up away from her as she looked invitingly into Gerald's riveted eyes, I knew there was no hope for a reprieve. I was destined, at this point, to a life of feminine sensuality, to appear to be the woman my sister had been . . . and . . . and soon to actually be that woman!!

Sarah sat up, straightening her dress and said, "Susan, why don't we take this opportunity to give you a little tour of my facility? Gerald can join us and I'm sure that Jennifer and Cynthia could use the time for a little 'girl talk' while we're gone." She smiled at Mom and I could see that my mother was intriqued.

"Besides," she added, "I'm certain that Cynthia could use a little respite from all this and I'll bet she'd like to ask Jennifer a few things only she could answer."

My mother looked over at me, a slight look of concern on her face, then smiled back at Sarah and replied, "Sure . . . why not. But do you think it's OK for them to be alone . . . together?"

Sarah amiled and answered, "Oh, it won't be a problem at all. I'll just give them the proper commands and it'll be fine."

My mother nodded her approval and Sarah turned to look at the both of us.

"Jennifer . . . . Ekala. You may be your true self while we are absent from the room, but you will speak and act only as the young lady you have been commanded to be. You may engage in conversation with Cynthia, but you may not conspire against me or anyone else. You will behave this way only until I return to this room. At that time, you will revert to the behavior that you are constrained to now. At no time while we are gone will you behave as anything other than a young lady. You may speak freely with Cynthia, but you will do so only as a young lady. Ekala."

I saw Jennifer's eyes glaze over as Sarah spoke her commands to her. Then, as she finished, Jennifer looked as happy and contented as she did the moment before.

Then, Sarah spoke my keyword and commanded me to do the same. As they rose to leave, I felt control return to my voice, though I knew I would only be able to speak in the same manner as a young lady would . . . in spite of the fact that I knew I could say what I wanted.

I watched them leave, turning down the hallway that led to the accursed room where Sarah had administered me the evil serum that had changed me into the illusion of my sister.

After they were gone from view, I looked apprehensively over at Jennifer, wondering what to say . . . . or even how to say it.

Jennifer looked away, taking a last drag on her cigarette before leaning towards the table and putting it out in the ashtray. As she leaned back, blowing a stream of smoke away from her, she looked back at me and smiled slightly.

"I guess they haven't had time to . . uh, . . . you know . . . change you completely?", she asked.

I looked at her, seeing the despair in her beautiful eyes, knowing that there was a young man in there . . . somewhere.

"Uh, . . . no. I think they have to wait . . . wait for a while before . . . before they finish it." I looked down, unable to think about what was still to come.

Jennifer smiled, making her look very pretty and sexy. "Take it from me, . . . . . . it's not something to look forward to. I know." She smiled again and I thought about how strange it was that, though we were talking about the terrible things that had happened to us, we still spoke and acted as though we were two, young, pretty women, engaging in a friendly chat.

I looked back at her and asked a burning question.

"Uh, Jennifer?"

She looked at me while smiling, her upraised, thinly arched eyebrows telling me to go ahead with my question.

"Uh, . . . when . . . when it happened to you, . . . uh, did . . . did it . . . hurt?"

She smiled and looked sidelong at me, confusing me because I couldn't really tell anything from her body language. She was acting ever as the lady, but her words told the truth.

She shook her head and said, "No . . . it didn't hurt . . . at least how you mean." Then she looked into my eyes and I could see her pain there, behind the involuntary twinlkle.

"But it hurts like hell inside. I mean . . . one moment you're a guy . . . and the next . . . the next moment you're a . . . a girl. It was . . . terrible."

Then she looked away as she added, "But it was worse later . . . when . . when he started giving me commands and . . . and taking advantage of me."

She looked quickly up and away, as if she didn't want to talk about it anymore. But I had to ask. I had to know.

"Did he . . . does he . . . uh, you know, . . . use you like that?"

She looked quickly at me and I thought she was angry with me. Then she softened and smiled, demurely and sexily. I knew she was being forced to act as the embarassed girl, but I also knew that she was truly ashamed of what had happened and I felt bad for asking.

"I . . . I'm sorry, Jennifer. I shouldn't have asked."

She smiled as she looked down and replied, "It's OK, Cynthia. I know you're as frightened as I was when they first did this to me."

She looked up and smiled and said, "Yes . . . yeah, . . . he uses me all the time. The worst part . . . the hell of it is that . . . . that they make me like it. I mean . . . well, my body likes it. The first time . . . . I was so scared and sick inside . . . but . . . but he commanded me to . . . you know, orgasm with him! It . . . it felt so . . . . so", she looked away as she quickly said, " . . so good!! I couldn't stop it!! I think I passed out for a second and then when I came to, I . . . . could feel his . . . his stuff inside me. I wanted to die." She smiled as she reached for her cigarettes again.

I felt her pain inside and shuddered at what might lay ahead for me. Then I reached over and picked up the pack of Virgina Slims my mother had given me. I knew I had to have a cigarette. I couldn't stop myself, even as I lit it very ladylike and leaned back on the sofa, holding it femininely between my slender fingers and blew a stream of smoke off to one side.

Jennifer gracefully lit her long, feminine cigarette and exhaled a column of white smoke off to one side then smiled at me and said, "I hate them. They had no right to do this to me. I . . . I was just looking for enough money to eat with that night. I wasn't going to hurt anybody. Jesus, I was just looking for some quick cash!" It seemed so strange to hear the words coming from her and see her act as though she was speaking of something completely different . . . pleasant.

I looked at her as I took another puff from my cigarette and then said, "I know what you mean. I didn't mean to hurt my sister. It was an accident. Then the next thing I know, I'm here and then this morning . . . this morning they did it to me. I think my mother has gone insane! I can't believe she's done this to me."

As Jennifer took another drag on her cigarette, she looked over at it as she inhaled and held it gracefully off to her side. She exhaled lazily, looking back at me as she did.

"I hate the things they make me do! This . . . this smoking thing is just another way to make me look like the . . . the whore he wants me to be! Someday . . . . someday I'll get even." But I didn't see any way that was going to happen. I mean . . . how could we fight back when we were totally under their control?

I brought my own cigarette back to my painted lips and took another feminine, gracefull puff and exhaled the smoke away from her, noting how I must be projecting the same image as her.

I asked her another question that had been gnawing at me.

"Uh, . . are you . . . I mean . . . completely a girl now? I mean . . . uh, . . . . could you have a . . . a baby?"

She looked sidelong at me and smiled, knowing she couldn't appear as anything other than the beautiful young woman she was and replied to my question.

"I . . . I have to take my birth control pill every day. Yeah . . . I could get pregnant if I'm not carefull." I could see the humiliation only in the sad expression behind her eyes.

I looked away from her, feeling the shame and humiliation over what had happened to us and deathly afraid of what was to come. God!! My insane mother was going to turn me completely into a girl!! Didn't she know what this was doing to me?!? I was going to end up just like . . . just like Jennifer!

I looked back at her and asked another quetion I'd been mulling over.

"Jennifer? Can you remember everything about what it was like before . . . before they changed you? I mean . . . can you remember your name and where you came from and who you were?"

She smiled slightly and replied, "Sure. You don't forget anything. But you can't talk about it much. Even now, when we're granted free speech, you can't say your real name." She looked closely at me and said, "Go ahead and try. Tell me your real name."

I felt like I could tell her. None of my speech had felt controlled while we had been talking. I opened my pretty mouth as I thought of my real name and said, "My real name is Cynthia . . . Cynthia Louise Bennett."

"See?", she added, "My real name is . . . " I could actually see a struggle going on in her mind as she attempted to tell me her real name.

"My real name is . . Jennifer. Jennifer Lynette Anderson."

She smiled and took another drag on her cigarette. She looked at me as she exhaled the smoke sensously from between her bright red lips.

"You see. You can't control certain things. You'll never be able to tell anyone you were once a guy. And they wouldn't believe you anyway."

I thought about what she had said and replied, "But they didn't command me to say I was a girl yet. And I . . . I'm really not . . . at least not yet. I'm still a boy. See? I can say it. I'll bet you could, too, if you tried. Maybe someday you'll be able to tell someone and find a way to make them believe you."

She shook her pretty head and replied, "They have already taken care of that with me. Though we can speak freely of other things, if anyone ever questioned me, I know I would have to tell them I was a woman. A girl. Gerald makes me say things even worse. I hate him."

As she was speaking, I thought I'd heard someone coming quietly down the hall. I turned and saw Gerald satnding by the entrance to the living room as Jennifer finished her last words.

She saw me looking and I watched as she turned to see him, her smile fading and then returning as she saw that he was looking at her.

He smiled once at me and then walked over to Jennifer, looking down at her and then back at me.

"She's right, you know. She does hate me, but she can't help but love me, too. Isn't that right, sweetheart?" He touched her hair and smiled evily at her.

She looked away and though still smiling under their control, her free speech hadn't been removed and she replied, "You're a pervert, asshole. Someday you'll pay for this!"

Gerald frowned and I felt my fear grow as he looked over at me and said, "Jolexo. You will return to full control and behave as a young lady again. Jolexo."

I felt my freedom of speech vanish and resumed smiling, watching as he leaned down to Jennifer and spoke.

"Ekala. You will return to full control and behave as I've instructed you to. You will behave completely as my girlfriend and lover. Ekala."

As Jennifer's eyes cleared, she looked lovingly up at Gerald and smiled as she sweetly said, "Hi, handsome. Where's the Doctor and Ms. Bennett? Cynthia and I have been having a lovely talk. You know, just girls things."

Gerald smiled and replied, "The Doctor and her guest are talking in the study. They asked me to come out and entertain you two lovely ladies while they caught up on old times." Then he looked at me and smiled.

"Cynthia, why don't you accompany me and Jennifer to our playroom. I'm sure Jennifer would like to show you her room and our playroom attached to it, wouldn't you dear?"

I felt my anxiety rise as Jennifer nodded readily and smiled, taking his hand as she stood up, smoothing her tight red dress about her shapely thighs.

"Oh, yes! Come on, Cynthia! You'll just love it!"

I involuntarily stood, picking up my purse and put my pack of cigarettes in it and followed them into the dining room and through the door leading into the kitchen. My hips swayed gracefully and Jennifer's positivel swivelled under her tight dress! I wondered how she was walking so easily in her skyscraper heels, but she moved like a sexy hooker, always smiling sensously at Gerald. I was afraid of what was going to happen and I wished that my mother would come back and take me out of here. Even if it meant going out in public as I was.

Then we exited the back door of the kitchen and went down a short hallway until we were standing next to a locked door.

Gerald smiled as he took out a key and opened the door, ushering us in as he closed it behind him and smiled, putting the key away as he locked the door.