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Ladys Knight by K. Moore I managed to check my watch despite being handcuffed to the arm of the chair in the "waiting area" of Precinct 32. I tried to look as calm as I could at Detective 3rd Grade Morton, blowing a strand of long black hair out of my face before I replied. "Look," I started, still unaccustomed to the soft soprano that came out of my mouth, "I know you'll never believe this story, but if my watch is correct, and seeing really IS believing, I think you'll come around right about the time I finish my tale." Detective 3rd Grade Morton gave a kind of smirk as he looked at me. I noticed that his eyes flicked back and forth over my cleavage before they fixed on my face. I guess I didn't really blame him...Ordinarily I probably would do the same thing when I saw a pretty, well-endowed woman. Still, I scooted back in the uncomfortable chair, doing my best to make sure that the short black dress covered as much of my shapely thighs as possible. "Look, miss," Morton said, "You can tell me as many fairy tales as you want, as long as we come up with an explanation about why there's a dead man in the parking lot of Frisky's Club and Lounge. Even better, if we can come up with an explanation of why your boyfriend found it necessary to break his neck, I'll consider it a night well spent." I found myself unconsciously shivering a little bit at the thought of Amy's meaty hands around the bastard's neck...The uncontrollable fury in her eyes as she choked the life out of him. "So, Miss...ahhh...Wesson," he began, checking my name briefly on the report in front of him, "It's a slow night, and I got a lotta time to hear anything you got to tell me." I composed myself in my chair, still hardly believing the events that had brought me here, and in this form, no less! "Okay," I said, smoothing my hair back over my ears with my free hand, "Here goes." "My name is really Kenneth Wesson...Not Karen like it's written on your report. I'm a graduate student in anthropology at the University of Southern California. The guy you're holding for murder is my girlfriend, Amy Sanders, not Andrew Sanders like it's written on the same report. She's a student majoring in Metaphysics at USC." "Lady, I know I said it was slow, but I don't have time for a load of..." Morton started to say, but I waved at him impatiently, and tried to screw up my currently cute-as-pie face into one that meant business. "Listen, Detective...I told you this was going to be hard to believe, but if you'll just sit there, listen, and watch, I promise you'll get the answers you need." He gave a heavy sigh and a look that said, "I'm indulging you only 'cause you're such a babe," then gestured at me to continue. I gave him my best newly-learned feminine smile and said, "Thanks." "Anyway, Amy had recently been taking a class with a professor named Langstrom whose research was known for being way off the natural course of things. She was fascinated by him, but I had my reservations. There were rumors of him chasing after his good looking undergraduate female students, and the way Amy talked about him, I was pretty sure the rumors were true. In addition to his flirting, I was concerned that the experiments he was doing with his class were a little dangerous. Every day, Amy would come home from the lab talking about one crazy thing after another. One day they would theorize on the possibility of making black holes in a vacuum, the next they would discuss the genetic origins of sexual behavior. To say that I thought this guy was off the wall would be a serious understatement." "For the past week, Amy had been more reserved than she usually was about what was going on in Langstrom's class. When I asked her what they were doing, she'd just giggle a little and give me a mischievous smile, then put her finger to her lips like it was some big secret. Needless to say, with this guy's reputation, I was more than a little worried. Yesterday, I decided to do something about it." "Now I'm not much of what you'd call a 'macho' guy, but if some crazy teacher was fooling aroundwith the best thing that has ever happened to me, I want to do something about it! I knew where the lab was, so yesterday afternoon I skipped my seminar and went over there. I think I was planning to simply walk in and pretend that I was just in the neighborhood, but when I found thedoor to the lab locked tight, my desire to get in there and see what was going on got a whole lot stronger. I put my ear to the door and listened closely. I could swear I heard quiet moans coming from inside. Suddenly, I was angry. It didn't matter whether those moans were of pleasure or pain, that bastard was doing something to my Amy that was way out of line! I looked around for a back entrance, but found none. I looked for a window, but there weren't any. Then I looked up and realized that the ceiling was one of those cheap plasterboard things where you can raise up the panels and climb in. I tipped over a trash can, climbed on the top, pushed up a panel and managed to lift myself in with my arms. I crawled toward the lab in the dark on my hands and knees, being careful to stay on support beams. I must've crawled about 30 feet before I realized that I was right over them. I could Langstrom talking to somebody in muffled tones, but I couldn't make out what he was saying. When he finished talking, I expected to hear Amy's voice responding to him, but what I heard sounded like another man! I listened in confusion for a while longer, but I never heard Amy. By this time, I was starting to feel very foolish. Here I was, crawling around a nasty attic, trying to rescue a girlfriend who wasn't even there! I started back toward the ceiling panel I had pushed up, shaking my head in frustration. I guess I got about halfway there when I stopped being careful. The next thing I knew, I was falling with a bunch of broken plaster board right beside me. I guess I fell partly on my head, because all I remember is looking up to see a blurry professor Langstrom running toward me, followed by a very short, small bodied guy. Just before I shut my eyes for a while, I remembered looking at the short guy and thinking how familiar he looked." I stopped for a second and looked at Detective 3rd Grade Morton. He still had a very skeptical look on his face, but I could tell he was interested in what I was saying. I shifted again in my chair, badly wanting to cross my legs, but knowing that doing that would put on a show for Morton and any other cop that happened by. I decided that it was bad enough that the low cut, scoop neck dress was displaying more than an ample amount of my pretty breast- flesh, so I'd keep both feet on the floor. Damn this dress, anyway! Why on earth had I let Amy talk me into wearing it! Morton raised his eyebrows at me and opened both his hands...No doubt cop-talk for "Get on with it, sister!" "When I woke up, I had a headache and a half. As far as I could tell, I was lying on a cot in the lab staring up at the ceiling. All of a sudden, Langstrom came into view above me, wearing a lab coat and one of those little doctor- mirrors around his head. He shone a little flashlight in my eye, flicking it from side to side. I felt myself slowly coming back to life when he did this, and I realized that not only did my head hurt, but the rest of me felt really strange. I tried to move, but found that it hurt too much to do anything. I let out a little groan and instantly realized that even my voice sounded strange. 'Ah, Mr. Wesson! You're awake at last,' said Langstrom. 'I guess I should explain what has happened to you, but maybe it would be better if Andy talked to you first.' He walked out of my field of vision and I found that I couldn't move my head to follow him, though I tried. In just a moment, another face appeared over me. I thought I recognized him as the little guy who followed Langstrom in when I fell, but this guy was obviously taller, bigger and more muscular. I wondered if maybe this was his brother. 'Hi, baby,' the big guy said, 'How do you feel?' I was still feeling too weird to say anything, but I'm sure my eyes gave away the confusion...and revulsion...at being called 'baby' by another guy! The big guy giggled...I don't when I last heard that big a man actually giggle...and then he put his face to within about an inch of mine. 'I know you don't recognize me right now, but take a close look into my eyes and see if you can't figure it out.' I did as he asked, taking a long deep look. There was definitely something familiar about him. Suddenly, I knew. Not only was this the same guy who I had seen right after my fall, but this guy wasn't a guy! It was Amy! Even though the face above me had the nose, stubble and hair of a man, I could see in his eyes the gentle, feminine delicacy of my Amy!" "Oh, come on!" said Morton in exasperation, his face blackly reflecting his annoyance. "You tryin' to tell me the mad scientist is turning girls into boys, and..." he gestured broadly at my feminine form, "boys into girls!!?" He got up from his chair and pointed his finger at me. "I got no time for this malarkey. Maybe you need a while in the tank to sober up or somethin'." He started to walk away, and I raised my little voice as much I dared..."Wait!," I wailed, and, forgetting that I was chained to my chair, tried to get up to follow him. When I did, the short chain jerked me in the other direction and I fell in an indelicate heap back in the chair, my short dress riding up past my black panties as I slumped over. Morton had walked just a few short paces away from me, and now he stared back at me, his eyes coming to rest on my exposed panties. I tried to straighten back up, but the chain yanked at me again. I pulled at it in frustration, and suddenly, all those pent-up female emotions that I had so bravely tried to hold back, spilled forth. I found myself sobbing uncontrollably, the tears running down my smooth cheeks and leaving black streels from the infernal mascara I was wearing! I buried my head in my free hand, thinking how embarassing that it had come to this. I was actually a helpless girl, clad in a revealing dress, crying my eyes out in a squadroom! All at once I was aware of Morton bending down in front of me. He dug a hand in his pocket and came up with a handkerchief which he tenderly offered to me. I took it, but I still couldn't stop crying, and as I sniffed, I felt him gently put an arm around my shoulders. In spite of my still semi-hysterical state, I was amazed that my disgusting show of emotion could have this kind of effect on a tough guy like Morton. Maybe there was something to being a pretty young woman after all. Morton stroked my hair and patted me on the head as my sobs slowly turned to sniffles. "It's okay...Gonna be all right," he kept murmuring to me as I wiped away my tears. "I'll listen...You go ahead and finish." He sat down in the chair next to me instead of his desk, and I looked at him through my red eyes. "Really?" I asked, purposefully adding a pathetic-little-girl tone to my voice. "Sure," he replied. "You're too pretty to be put in a tank with those other nasty skanks." I wondered how pretty he would think I was in about an hour, but I jumped at the opportunity to finish my story. "Once I realized that it was Amy looking down at me, I began to realize why I was feeling so strange. I looked up at him with scared eyes and he nodded his head kind of sadly. 'I know, babe...I told Dr. Langstrom that we should have your permission first, but he said that if we went ahead and injected you with the formula, then you wouldn't be as likely to head straight to the dean's office. You see, we've been working on this thing for weeks, and today was the first time it worked all the way! It's so simple the way it works...All it does is turn off all the genes and chromosomes that make a girl a girl, or a boy a boy, then a second strain goes back and turns on all the genes and chromosomes to make a girl a boy, or, in your case, a boy a girl! Right now, the first strain has finished with you, and in just a minute, the professor is going to activate the second strain. Please don't worry, sweetie...We've made sure that it'll only be active for twenty four hours before it destroys itself, turning back on all the genes that make you what you were before. Oh, I hope you'll forgive me, honey...Once it's all done, it feels really good, and I think you'll like it if you can get over the fact that you're an unwilling subject!' I remember trying to shake my head in protest the whole time he was talking to me, but I just couldn't move! I could see that shining excitement in Amy's eyes that she always gets when she's wound up about something, and I knew that even if I could scream at her like I wanted, it wouldn't do any good. Once she gets going, she doesn't quit until it's finished. I saw movement out of the corner of my eye and I heard the professor's voice say to Amy, 'It's time.' Amy nodded, then turned back to me. 'Okay, babe, we're going to release the second strain now. It hurts a little, so we're going to give you something to make you sleep through it.' I felt his big hand pat my cheek and he smiled broadly at me. 'See you in about an hour, full of sugar and spice and everything nice!' The last thing I remember before going to sleep again was a curious feeling of disgust as he kissed me briefly on the lips! I don't know how long I was under. I guess it was probably an hour like Amy said, but when I woke up, I knew...Even before opening my eyes, I could feel the difference. My whole body felt different, lighter somehow...even breathing was a whole new experience. My eyes flew open, and as they adjusted to the light of the lab, I could see that both Amy and Langstrom were standing beside me. Any looked even more masculine than the last time I saw her. She was brawnier with imposing biceps bulging through the arms of her tank top. A coarse mat of chest hair peeked through the top of it. 'Welcome back, milady,' Langstrom said as he picked up my wrist and took my pulse. I looked at the delicate hand that he had picked up and couldn't believe that it was mine. My whole arm was smaller with none of the hair that had been there before. My vision blurred for a moment and I shook my head to clear it. When I did so, I was aware of a new mass on top of my head that flew unceremoniously into my eyes. I sat there in disbelief, blinking through my new hair. I felt Amy's hands part it in the middle and begin to draw it back over my head. I jerked my hand away from Langstrom and grabbed both of Amy's arms, meaning to throw them off of me. But when I did that, I became aware of two very disconcerting facts. First, I realized that I had virtually no strength left since I couldn't budge Amy's arms, and second, my abrupt movement had fostered an unexpected motion of flesh on my chest! I let go of Amy's arms and in one quick lurch, I flung the cot sheets away from me. Under the hospital gown were two unmistakeable swollen areas. I closed my eyes for a second, composing myself for the inevitable, then lowered my head as I pulled up the gown. There they were, just as you see them now, only I swear, Detective, they weren't there before yesterday afternoon! Detective Morton had been resting his hand on my arm as I continued my story, but after this revelation, he took it away, crossed his arms and sat back in his chair with a heavy sigh. He shook his head a little bit, though not with the impatience anger he had shown before. Now, his face seemed to show more sympathy for his nutty suspect than anger. Afraid that I was going to lose him again, I tried something that had worked before, though unintentionally. With my free hand, I reached for and grasped his wrist. He looked down at my delicate hand with their prettily painted fingernails. I gave him a squeeze and adjusted my face so that my eyes looked directly into his. I tried to give my face the frightened fawn look I knew was effective on him, and quietly said just one word-Please! He smiled at me thenStill with that I' m so sorry that you' re a whacko facebut nodded at me to continue. As I sat there on the lab cot, the enormity of what had happened slowly sank in...Langstrom was smiling triumphantly and the now-incredibly-masculine Amy had a very worried look on his face. I looked at them both, giving Langstrom a look of utter rage and Amy one of disbelief that she would allow this. Langstrom kind of withered when I shot him my glance and looked away from me, kind of shuffling his feet awkwardly. He turned to Amy and said, " Well, I guess I' ll leave you two alone...Remember to tell him what we' re trying to do and what we' ll need from him." Amy and Langstrom nodded at each other and then Langstrom left room quickly. I heard the lab door unlock, open, then close noisily. Amy picked up my hand...I was amazed at how her big fingers completely enclosed my small delicate ones..." Do you hate me?" she asked, looking imploringly into my eyes. "I' m not sure," I responded, my eyes growing wide with the sound of my new soprano. Amy gave me a defeated nod saying, "I know. I guess I don' t blame you." We didn' t say anything for a minute, then Amy pulled the sheet away from my body grasped both of my hands and said, " C' mon. We need to get you up and around." He pulled me up without hardly any effort, then swung my legs around off the cot. I put my feet on the floor unsteadily, not trusting that my new legs would bear any weight at all. They did, though, and I found that despite my new form, I didn' t feel all that different. It was strange to see the world from a vantage that was about a foot less than it was just hours ago. Amy supported my arm with hers, ushering me toward the full length mirror across the room. " Figured you' d want to get a look at yourself before we talk," she said as we stopped in front of it. I thought I could steel myself to the shock of what was revealed, but as I gazed at the handsome athletic man with his arm around a small frightened girl, it was all I could do to retain my composure. She was so tiny, so pretty, so...feminine...And she was ME! I pushed Amy away gently with a small motion of my newly rounded hips and allowed myself to touch my face. I couldn' t believe the soft smoothness of my cheeks...Cheeks that had been manly and stubbled that now had the feel of flower petals! I ran my hands down my silky neck, then traced the contours of my new torso. My body felt so much more sensitive than before. I could feel every little contact my hands made, especially when they briefly cradled my new breasts. I shook my head in wonder at the smallness of my waist, then closed my eyes in disbelief as my hands travelled the curve of my hips. Amy had seated herself in a chair and was watching my inspection with a knowing grin. "Incredible, isn' t it," she said from across the room. " Yes," I admitted, still gazing at the lovely little nymph in the mirror, " but why do this?" Amy motioned me to sit in the chair next to her, then went into a long scientific explanation of the metamorphosis, most of which I didn' t understand. The upshot of it all was that since they had discovered the chromosome counteractive agent, they wanted to study the test subject' s reaction to being a member of the opposite sex. They had been testing the formula for some time, and Amy was the first willing, though impetuous, volunteer. My untimely arrival had put them in a quandary as to what to do. They were afraid that I' d blow the whistle on their project for which they had no offical approval. But on the plus side, since Amy and I were already a couple, and since the formula had been apparently successful on Amy, it would be the perfect time for a relationship study! She swore up and down on the absolute surety that the effects of the formula would reverse themselves after 8 hours, and she apologized again and again for having unwillingly forced me into her experiment. After hearing her explanations and listening to the excitement in her rich male baritone, I knew that even though my sense of violation was screaming at me to punish her for what she had done, a part of me was fascinated with what had happened to me. As you can see, that part won out. After much convincing and cajoling, I grudgingly agreed to cooperate with her. We walked home to our apartment with Amy clad in some the men' s jeans and a tee-shirt that she had discretely lifted from my closet that morning, and with me wearing the clothes that she had worn to the lab before she changed. The trip across campus was an eye opener. Not only could I not get used to the constant feeling of jiggling when I walked, but I also had to deal with the stares of more than one horny undergraduate guys. As one of them openly leered at my new chest, I made a vow never to do anything like that again when I became myself again. Once we had climbed the stairs to our walkup another very interesting jiggling experience-I headed straight for the liquor cabinet and made us both very strong martinis. We sat down in the living room and Amy talked animatedly about what she wanted to do. She wanted us to try a complete role reversal. The more cliche the better as far as she was concerned. She obviously would assume the dominant male role, and I her subservient counterpart. I thought this spelled trouble, but I kept reminding myself that it was only for 8 hours. We were to record our reactions to various situations with the two pocket cassette recorders that Amy had. Anytime we experienced something new, subtle or otherwise, we would record it. It all seemed very scientific and on the level, but when Amy went to mix us another drink, then returned with them only to begin rubbing my shoulders from behind the couch, I realized what she meant about experiencing new things! I' ll spare you the details of our first encounter with each other, but suffice it to say I had a lot to talk about to my recorder. It was so weird to be made love to rather than making love to someone, but though I don' t recommend that everybody try it, it is unique...and more than a little bit pleasureable. I paused then, looking up at the big detective for his reaction. I couldn' t be sure, but I think I actually saw him begin to blush a little as I alluded to our first sex together. He caught me looking at him, making him blush all the more, then made an impatient face at me and said, Yeah, yeah...Lovey dovey and all that. Let' s get to what happened at Friskys! Pleased that he was not only actually listening to this dizzy broad, but wanting me to finish the story, I said "Of course, Detective...we' re almost there. " After our little session, Amy suggested that we go out that night. She insisted that we wear each other' s sexiest getups, dine at a fancy restaurant, then go clubbing, promising, by the way, that it would all be on Professor Langstrom' s tab. I agreed to this after a little coaxing, and got up out of the bed to take a shower. Amy fairly ran to where I keep my clothes and started trying on things frantically, then discarding them in a heap on the bed. I told him to slow down, that there was no rush, but he just glared at me and told me to hurry up. I couldn' t understand why he was acting so hyper, but something inside said to keep quiet. Thinking back, I realize that was probably the first obvious evidence that the formula wasn' t as perfect as it was made out to be. I dressed myself the way you see me now, and yes, I was more than a bit embarrassed at feeling good about wearing women' s clothes, but the way they fit, and the feeling of being carressed all over, well, it' s an experience I can' t describe. I guess I wondered why I was being so cooperative and having so much fun playing dress up when I was still miffed at being an unwilling test subject, but now I see that it was the formula' s fault...I was assuming far too much of a typical woman' s role. The formula wasn' t supposed to alter a person' s personality, just their sex! What I know now is that Amy and the professor failed to estimate just how much of a reaction the release of a torrent of hormones into a strange host would affect the behavior of the person. Not only did I now look like a woman, but I was beginning to feel like one to the tenth power! I found myself primping in the mirror, radiant with excitement at how I looked, wondering which shade of lipstick would turn Amy on most, wondering if I should wear my panties outside or inside my garter belt. I should have realized what was happening, especially when I saw what was happening to Amy! She seemed to always be in a hurry, nervously flexing her muscles in impatience at how long it was taking me to get ready, and talking to me in a voice that was just a little bit too loud. On the drive to the restaurant, Amy shouted obscenities at several other drivers when they accidentally cut her off or forgot to signal before they turned. Rather than being alarmed at Amy' s behavior, I remember feeling protected and secure in the hands of such a powerful guy. I can' t believe how ignorant I was! Dinner is a blur, though I do remember being a little disturbed at how badly Amy treated the waiter and the valet. I also remember how quickly she ate her well done steak and how I had to hurry to finish so he wouldn' t get mad at me. Finally, dinner done, we went to Friskys. Amy cut in line and barged in like she owned the place, pulling me along like I was a dog being taken for a walk. You can imagine how hard it was to keep from tripping in these heels! Once we were inside, Amy went straight to the bar and started drinking straight whiskey, one after another. She would talk to some of the other men about football and stuff, and I remember being totally bored by this. I wanted to dance, to feel sexy and desireable, not sit around a smoky bunch of macho guys talking about the latest line on some who cares game. I managed to get Amy to dance with me a couple of times, and I can' t tell you how delightful it was to be held close and led about the dance floor by a strong handsome man. I couldn' t get enough, but Amy, though I could feel his arousal at times, always managed to return to the bar and resume his conversation with the guys. I began to think he didn' t care about me, so I formulated a plan. I excused myself to the Ladies Room, but I didn' t go there. Instead, I went to a place near the dance floor next to a table of good looking guys. I began to shimmy and move sexily to the music, revelling in the knowledge that most of the guys at the table were watching me! Finally, a good looking guy got up from the table and asked me to dance. I leapt at the chance, wanting to see just how much of a woman I had become. I was putty in his arms, playing the flirt with a passion. I pressed my breasts against him any chance I could, and rather than getting angry when his hands went around my rear and forced our pelvises together, I merely giggled at how wonderfully nasty it felt! I looked around for Amy a few times while we dance, but if he saw us, he didn' t do anything about it. I even joined the other guys at their table for a drink, giggling and batting my eyes at them when they told me how sexy I was. During one final dance with my new admirer, he suggested that we go someplace a little quieter. As willing as I was, I was more frightened of Amy finding out, so I told him no. He tried again and again to get me to agree, and as his pleas started to get more forceful, I started being afraid of him. I told him I had to go, and he called me all sorts of filthy names like Prick-tease and Slut. I ran back to the bar in tears looking for Amy. When I found her I told her that I wanted to go home. She said something to the effect of "Can' t wait to get me home, huh babe?" and I found myself smiling shyly at this. We started to leave after Amy gave a round of high fives to her new friends. We were in the parking lot halfway to our car when Amy said, " Shit! I forgot my keys on the bar!" Without any word to me, he turned around to go back in, leaving me alone in the parking lot. I looked around me a little afraid, but since I didn' t see anyone else, I continued slowly to the car. Just as I was about to reach it, I heard another car door open and I looked up to see my dance partner getting out of a BMW. I stopped in my tracks and he stepped up to me until he was only an inch or two away from me. I remember the feeling of terror that washed over me when he said, " Well, well! Ms. Prick-tease! Fancy meeting you out here!" I started to back away from him, but he grabbed me and starting kissing me so hard it hurt! His mouth smothered mine so I couldn' t scream, and with only one hand he pinned my arms behind me. His other hand groped me frantically, squeezing first one breast, then the other. I drew a sharp breath when I felt his hand between my legs and heard the sound of him unzipping himself. I remember feeling so helpless, so weak...He threw me on the hood of his car, one hand over my mouth and the other ripping down my panties. Just as he was getting ready to lean into me, I felt him being pulled away violently. Free for the moment, I ran screaming and crying for about until I was about ten yards away. When I finally turned around to see what was happening, I saw Amy hitting my would-be rapist again and again with fists of absolute rage! The guy was already unconscious and I know that he would have sagged down completely if Amy hadn' t held him with one arm while pounding him with the other. I didn' t know what to do. Part of me wanted to run to Amy and make her stop, but the other part told me that the guy was getting what he deserved. I think I knew that Amy was probably killing him, but I just didn' t care. When I saw her hands clench around the guy' s throat and start squeezing, I knew it was too late. That' s when I fainted, and the next thing I remember was you and the ambulance guys all around me and Amy being led away in cuffs. And...I guess that' s all, Detective. Morton had been sitting with his chin in his hands while I finished my story. Now he looked up at me quizzically and said, So if the hormones had such an effect on both of you, how come you' re so over it now? I looked at the woman' s watch on my cuffed hand. I told you, the formula is supposed to wear off after 8 hours...and as of 10 minutes ago, it' s been 8 hours exactly. I guess the hormones were the first to go. So if the full moon' s down, ain' t you supposed to change back into a guy? Morton asked with a little amusement in his face. At just that moment, I felt myself start to tingle a little bit. Well, now that you mention it, I think you' re about to get a little show. What, now? he asked with a little concern. I think so, I said, my face suddenly twisting in pain. Detective Morton, is there a place we can...ungh...Oh my god, it hurts! As my body became wracked with spasms, I felt, rather than saw Detective Third Grade Morton unlock my handcuff. I felt him pick me up light as a feather and start carrying me somewhere as the room began to spin. I remember having pain filled dreams as I wandered in and out of consciousness throughout my transformation back into a man. It felt like I was being jerked violently, then stretched, then jerked again. I remember crying out more than a few times, hearing first a girlish scream and then a masculine moan. Finally, I felt nothing at all as the blackness of deep sleep overtook me. When I became aware again, I realized that I was in a holding cell by myself. The first thing I did was look at my watch noticing that it had only been an hour since I had last looked at it. The other thing I noticed brought a smile to my face. The arm that wore my watch was the one that I had called my own before this whole thing had begun. I flexed my muscles and saw with relief the coarse hair that bunched up with my biceps. I was still wearing Amy' s sexy black dress, but it had split in several places and hung in tatters around me. The sight of my hairy legs encased in badly-run stockings caused me to laugh anxiously, and the baritone rumble that I heard come out of my mouth was music to my ears! I heard the door to the cell open and Morton came in with a bag in his hands. I got to my feet slowly and took the clothes that he drew out of the bag. We didn' t speak as I ripped the rest of the dress off of me and struggled into the jeans and tee shirt he had brought me. Finally, when I was fully clothed, I looked at him nervously. His face was tentative and maybe even a little embarassed. You must be Ken Wesson, he said. I nodded. He shook his head back and forth a few times... Damndest thing I ever saw. Me too, I said, And I didn' t even see it! He chuckled softly at that, then gestured to the door. C' mon, there' s somebody waiting to see you. We walked silently down the corridor and into the same squadroom where I had told him my story. Seated at the same desk was Amy, in all her feminine glory! I ran to her and she met me halfway, sobbing in my arms as I shushed her gently and held her tightly. I noticed Morton watching this scene with a certain amount of tenderness. He was still shaking his head back and forth. With Amy still crying quietly in my arms, I pointed at him with my chin and said, What happens now? He motioned for us to sit down in the chairs across from his desk and we did. You see, the thing is, we got us a dead body, all choked and beat up, but the witnesses, all two of em, say it was done in self defense. Now, that may or may not be the case, but the problem we really have is that we can' t seem to find anybody who matches the description of the assailant. Seems there was a pretty girl in a sexy black dress who nearly got raped, and some big macho guy with hairy arms who did the beatin' . Now Amy here is sure pretty enough, but she ain' t wearing no sexy black dress, and you...well, no offense, but you ain' t the most macho guy I' ve ever seen. I sighed with relief at that and said, Believe me, Detective, no offense taken, and put out my hand. We shook and he looked at me hard for a second, then resumed shaking his head back and forth. Don' t do this anymore he said, and if you wanna file charges against that Langstrom fella, I' ll see what I can do. I looked at Amy who was still wiping her eyes, and she shook her head quickly. Thanks, but I think we' ll deal with that on our own. Morton nodded and said, Sure. Well, we' ll see you around then. You can pick up Amy' s, er...your personal effects at the front. I smiled. Thanks again, Detective. From both of us. Amy and I walked with our arms around each other toward the exit. I turned around once to see Morton watching us as we went. I heard him say again very quietly, Damndest thing I ever saw! As the sun slowly rose the next morning, I looked down at the naked sleeping girl in my arms. I loved the way she slept...so innocent and vulnerable, her beautiful full-lipped mouth slightly open as she breathed deeply. She made me feel like I was her strong protector who would stop at nothing to defend her honor. I wondered briefly if I had stirred some of the same feelings of protectiveness in her when we had last slept together. I tried to remember what it was like when I looked and felt like her, but decided that no matter how it felt, this was the way it was supposed to be. I quietly reached under the bed, careful not to disturb my sleeping lover, and pulled out one of the little cassette recorders that was supposed to have been the source of all our scientific reactions to the experiment. I pushed the record button and softly spoke into the microphone... Dear Dr. Langstrom. Ken Wesson here. Go screw yourself!