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Planetary Agents 2: Double Your Pleasure By Babs Yerunkle ************************************************* SUMMARY: Welcome to the future of galactic super-science. In a previous episode, our loser male hero encounters an implausible plot device which transformed him into a petite stunningly beautiful young girl. He also got super strength and immunity to nearly everything (except bad writing). This episode, he (I mean, she) has lots of sex and eventually gets into trouble with some hulking male bruisers who she then blows into small chunks using big guns. Oh, and she's a secret agent, too. WARNING: Contains transgender themes, explicit sex, violence, bad words, and sloppy writing. No real people or deep characterization here, just bubble-headed sex 'n' violence in a thin candy coating. Don't read this if you are under 18 or over IQ 110. Not as funny as this intro might indicate. See bottom for copyright and distribution. ************************************************* The girl was having a new heart implanted. It was hard to tell under the sterilization field, but back before the heart had been blown out of her chest she'd been beautiful. Only sixteen years old (at least, in appearance), she was short, trim, and very well proportioned. When she walked past, every man would stare. Some women, too. I should know. I've been her twin for nearly two weeks. Crystal Macintyre had been one of the famed Planetary Alliance "special agents" before being lethally shot on Permafrost, two weeks ago. By sheer chance, I'd been at the scene and had managed to stop her murderer. Her blood had touched my open wounds. The resulting accident had infected me with the nanotech transform agents that she had recently taken. Within days, I found myself changing into her duplicate. In the process, I met and fell in love with her partner, Amber Trin, and learned a bit too much about my new sister, such as the fact that she had a tendency toward nymphomania and had deliberately designed her body with an enhanced sex drive. This was particularly disconcerting because I'd been a man until shortly after our ill-fated meeting. The operation was fascinating. Crys was still under bio-stasis, so there was no rush or hurry. They were taking their time to do everything safely and correctly. The main surgeon was a Ronolar. His spherical central body was held in a tank of constantly replenished salt water, while his dozen tentacles worked in perfect coordination with one another fixing the gruesome damage to Crys's chest cavity. "Will she have any scars?" I asked Amber, at my side. "She shouldn't. Once they've filled in the missing flesh with cloned tissue they'll drop bio-stasis. Her skin should heal flawlessly, just like yours did." Her gaze flashed to my breasts, where I'd taken two very harsh knife wounds. "And what are they doing in her abdomen?" "As long as she's in for surgery, they're giving her the upgraded model of the subspace purse." Amber demonstrated, causing a black hole to form just beyond her fingertips. With a stretch of her hand, she should reach into the other-space pocket to retrieve ID, binoculars, gun, camera, or a host of other useful items. Upgrades were a bit of a sore point with Amber. Crys and I had the very latest nanotech upgrades such as internally controlled makeup implants. Amber had to limp along with the old-hat wonders of eternal youth, incredible strength, enhanced senses, and built-in body armor. But hey, life is tough. A human surgical assistant finally faced the screen. "It looks like everything is successful," he said. "The cloned tissue has already been washed with the new transform nano to match Miss Macintyre's current upgrade. Once we've stabilized that, we'll bring her out of bio-stasis." We bent closer. I couldn't keep my eyes off Amber. Her stunning curves perfectly filled the tight black sweater she had on. The navy slacks she wore enhanced rather than hid the line of her hips and her long, long legs. I was dressed less seriously, in a diaphanous white outfit that was more suggestive than concealing. The skirt was scandalously short, so I had to pay particular attention whenever I moved. I was still figuring out my own sexuality. Thanks to Crystal's hormone boost, I think the answer was coming out to be: "Sexual preference: yes, please." I was going to have a serious talk with that girl, once she woke. Which should turn out to be only a few seconds from now. Her body temperature had been raised to the proper 37 degrees, and the doctor was preparing the emitter horn that would switch her nanos from bio-stasis back to their interrupted "transform" mode. He flicked the switch -- I felt the burst through my entire body. It was just like the blast of heat I'd felt when I'd accidentally activated the transform nanos in my body two weeks ago. "Are we in range of the operating theater?" I gasped out. "I *felt* that!" "Impossible," Amber said. "Once the transform is complete, the nanos no longer respond to bio-stasis or activation signals. And no, we aren't even close. You must be imagining it." I was definitely feeling sick now. My head hurt, my back hurt, and growing ever more consuming was a massive pain in both lungs. I felt like the whole center of my chest had been pulled out of my body with a giant claw. I screamed, feeling myself pitch forward. Distantly, I heard the sound pickup from the operating theater. The newly awakened patient was screaming as she came painfully back to life. Amber was shouting, "Medical emergency," into the intercom as I tried to lever myself back to my feet. What was happening to me? I looked up to the monitors, and saw Crys's face on the screens. She looked like she was in as much pain as I was. The beautiful girl's face was crumpled in a mask of agony as life flashed back into existence. She was panicking, I could tell. I could feel it. And then I knew. I was feeling HER, there inside me. Somehow we were linked, my twin sister and I. Trying to ignore the pain, I forced myself to lie down. I cradled my head in my arms and closed my eyes, trying to block out the outside world. I felt for her. She was remarkably easy to find. She was right there. It was as if she'd always been there. I couldn't talk to her or communicate with her in any normal fashion, but I could feel her pain and her panic. Despite my fears I opened myself to her, accepting all of it, trying to accept her -- this beautiful girl whom I had yet to meet. I already knew that my love, my Amber, was in love with her. That's part of the reason they were partners. If I were going to join Amber, I would also have to join with Crys. We needed to be friends at least, but hopefully much more. I didn't know her at all, except by reflection, but I wanted this more than anything. I opened myself and accepted all the pain and panic she could send my way. After a moment, she noticed. This was a novelty for her, too. We couldn't speak in words, but emotions flashed quickly between us. (?) she sent. (Patience,) was the feeling I tried to reply. (Worry?) (Hope / like / love?) I sent. (Impatience.) (Laughter.) (Acceptance. Impatience.) At last, I pulled away, continuing to accept her pain. I opened my eyes and looked at Amber. "We're okay now," I told her. "It was just a bit startling, at first." ***** I watched on the monitor outside her room as Amber and the doctors gave Crystal her introductory briefing. Crystal was rubbing her sternum. It still hurt; I could feel it. "...that bastard Hamron shot me!" Amber nodded. "How did you manage to get yourself into that situation?" Crys fidgeted a bit. "Well, I thought things were going perfectly. He got me into his skyspeeder, wanted to show me something 'exciting.' It seemed too easy to be a real lead, but you never know. What I didn't expect was arm and leg clamps in the speeder's seat. That's when I sent you my call for help." Amber nodded. "So anyway, he never figured on my little sub-space hidey-hole. He wanted to take me away and have a little 'fun.' That gave me time to get my gun free. I managed to get an arm free through brute strength. I used it to get a couple of punches in on dick-boy, before I blasted myself out of the remaining cuffs. I'm pretty sure I hit the engine. Things are a little fuzzy after that." Amber supplied the rest of the details. "You were thrown clear and lost your pistol. Hamron had his -- one of those huge Jaegger GW cannons. He got a perfect shot." I felt an echo of shame which slowly turned to love and gratitude. "I guess it's one more I owe you, Amber." "Not me, Crys. Through complete coincidence, there was a skier in the area. He saw the crash, saw the shooting, and managed to take out Hamron." "Really? He must have been a strapping lad! Hamron was *strong*. I wish I'd been around. I would have liked to give him some *personal* thanks." "Uh, well... it gets a little more complicated. You see, it turns out he was pumped full of Activator nanos at the time. And your blood was splashed all over the place, if you can imagine. And he'd gotten kind of scraped up in the fight with Hamron, and...." Crystal's eyes grew wide. "You mean... he..." Amber nodded. "Except now it's SHE." "Oh, my. Then she must look..." "Uh huh. You now have a twin sister." The Kref doctor, on his tiny float platform, skimmed over to the door and activated the lock. The door slid open and I stepped into the room. It was an unpleasant moment. Crystal stared at me and I could feel the resentment building inside her. Somehow, she felt what was going on, too. She knew I was sensing her emotions the same way she was sensing mine. But I'd had weeks to adapt to the change, and hours to cope with this latest revelation. This was all hitting her at once. We stared at one another, identical twins. "What are you doing in my *mind?*" "I don't know!" I protested. "What are you doing in mine?" "This is an interesting phenomena," the Kref doctor said. It was fascinating to hear that booming, echoing voice issuing from the tiny insect on the float platform. "We have begun investigation. Your linkage does not appear visible on the mental planes accessible to either Kref or telepathy-enhanced humans. One possibility is that this is a manifestation of a purely human psychic phenomenon. Alternately, it may be an interaction with the Kref-modeled telepathic centers, in some manner that we do not understand." The human doctor stepped forward. "Another possibility is that it's due to the extreme similarity of portions of your brains." He tapped on a monitor, which suddenly flashed up a diagram of the brain. "You're familiar with this, Miss Macintyre, but your two companions are not." He cleared his throat and entered a lecturing mode. "One of the enhancements we're testing with this latest upgrade is a modest amount of cortical redundancy. In particular, we have fully mapped portions of Miss Macintyre's brain and programmed that information into the template functions of her nanos. We only used areas that are distinct from the thinking and personality centers, such as the cerebellum. In the event of major damage or trauma, these areas of the brain can then be rapidly reconstructed by the nano repair functions. We were also able to optimize for a wide variety of combat skills, including martial arts movements, weapons usage, targeting, climbing, and a variety of commando skills. At the same time, we fulfilled Miss Macintyre's request for a 'tune up' of her posture and personal movements, while also inputting a wide variety of dance and, ah, recreational patterns. "Unfortunately... in Mr. Brocklan's case, his cerebellum has been virtually replaced with a copy of Miss Macintyre's. Any old physical skills he possessed have simply vanished. Similarly, you now possess identical mappings throughout your brain stem and many of the so- called 'lower' brain functions. It is possible that this similarity is the cause for your unusual mental linkage." "Then we may be..." I began. "...stuck this way?" Crys finished. The doctor shook his head. "Oh, not at all. At your next available upgrade, in another four years, we are confident that we can eliminate this situation." The Kref spoke again. "We anticipate much pleasure may be derived from experimenting upon you." Those were his exact words. Crys and I both stared at him, appalled. For me, the thought of being strapped to a metal lab table in an experimental lab was a bit too raw. But on the other hand, I owed these people everything. I owed Amber whatever I was capable of paying. Could this help her? I knew she was in trouble for bringing back an un-cleared recruit. Would it help ease the mark against her if I volunteered as a guinea pig? I know I've always had too much of a tendency toward martyrdom, but anything I could do to help her... I realized that I was staring at Amber, feeling love, resignation, acceptance. And I realized that I felt an echo turning into shock, jealousy, and denial. I looked up, seeing Crys looking at me, looking at Amber. Her feelings suddenly spiked upwards. "No," she said. "No way. I won't put up with this!" "Miss Macintyre --" "If you think for one SECOND that I'm going to happily accept this Siamese psychic sister thing, you had better think it over again!" "We're afraid --" It was too late. I could feel her building up like a thundercloud. "If you think I am going to permit this cheap-copy BIMBO to steal my entire God-damned life away from me, then you are just OUT of your PUNY LITTLE MINDS!" Poor Amber tried to intervene. "She doesn't want to --" "And YOU!" Crys turned toward Amber, tears in her eyes, "I expected better of you, at least! But you picked up with her just like she was me, didn't you?" Amber froze, in dismayed shock. "Your best friend, your partner, hell, your God-damned LOVER lies dead in the dirt, and the first thing you do is go jump in bed with this sicko pervert BODY THIEF like there's no tomorrow! And now the voyeur squad wants to play games in my head to see why I'm now permanently linked to this, this..." She stared at me with rage in her eyes. I didn't need to interpret her expression. I could feel it. I couldn't help but feel it. Disgust, pain, and sheer, burning hatred. Directed squarely at me. "GET THE HELL OUT OF MY LIFE!" Boy, those new enhanced combat hormones sure do a wonderful job. Under the barrage, I felt them wash through me. I don't really know what I was feeling at the moment. Self-hatred, perhaps. Shame, fear. I felt Crys's hate, and that was enough. I hated myself, too. As adrenaline and a complex mix of combat hormones flooded through my system, the world outside slowed to a safe, quiet speed. Everyone's movements slowed, as if they were all underwater performers. It gave me the opportunity to turn and flee for the door. The door didn't slide open quickly enough, but I managed to squeeze through the gap as it began to open. In my accelerated state, the weight of the emotions pressing on me felt less. I sprinted through the corridor, spending most of my time aloft. It was like the gravity has been turned down, and my body was moving through syrup. I dodged around slow-moving people in the hallways, kicking off the wall to ricochet around them before they had time to notice my presence. Far too quickly, I was back in my room. After the door slid shut, I set the locks and, searching for some further way to bar entry, moved most of the rooms furniture over and stacked it in front of the door. Then I caught a glimpse of myself in the full-length metal mirror that hung on one wall. It was Crys. The face, the eyes, the hair -- even the style, it was all her. The body, breasts, waist, hips, legs -- all her. She stared back at me in disgust. I could still feel the hatred glaring at me from inside my own mind. I took my fist and smashed it into the metal mirror. The metal buckled and bent slightly, while my fists picked up a nice spattering of blood. Self mutilation felt so good right then. I punched again and again, denting the thin metal and obscuring the despised reflection with wet bloody marks. I realized the bones were breaking in my hands, but I could feel them moving back into place, slowly healing in front of my eyes. The nano-technology wonder robots were always on the alert, finding and repairing any damage. I moved to my furniture pile and took a chair. Smashing that against the mirror was a little more effective. It also destroyed the chair (made of an unbreakable plastic). Finally, I collapsed on the bed in a heap, crying. I don't know how long I lay like that. I realized that I was curled around a pillow, and that it was wet from tears. My feelings had faded to a deep, dull ache, that I might possibly be able to live with. After all, I'd lived for decades with exactly that sort of ache. The knowledge that I would be better off dead. Now I just had a better channel of communication sending me the message. Somewhere in there, I fell asleep. After a while, I began to dream. It started with someone kissing me on the forehead. In my dream, I imagined it was Amber. She hugged me close and spoke to me, soothing words that calmed me and helped me feel better. I knew that I was still loved, and it felt so wonderfully sweet that it was almost painful. I was filled with that soaring crystalline hope that you're afraid to question -- there's always the fear in the back of your mind that this is too good to last, and the wrong question will shatter your happiness. So I didn't question, I merely accepted. Amber began to show me how much she loved me. Kisses down my neck set me afire. Her fingertips traced along my closed eyelids, down my face, and around my ears. I felt my dress sliding off. I was in heaven. Her fingertips circled my breasts, then dropped to my tummy, tickling my sides before weaving back up toward my breasts. As she circled for the kill, I felt my nipples swell and harden under the teasing. Then her mouth fastened upon my left breast, sucking my nipple into her mouth, tormenting me with her tongue, giving me excruciatingly delightful nips with her teeth. I could feel things tightening within me, down in my hips. Amber must have sensed it too, because her tongue mouth slid off my breast. "No," I gasped, aloud. "Come back! I need more..." But her tongue traced a silvery snail's trail down toward my hips. Now her hands were at my legs and thighs, stroking, tickling, teasing, caressing. I felt my legs snap open. Traitorous legs! Yes, it was exactly what I wanted, but I'd hoped to show a bit more resistance. My legs stretched open to accept her and I arched my back, offering myself to her. I needed her! There was a void inside me, and I needed her to fill me. But instead, she began to touch me in a hundred ways. My skin was alive all over. There were touches and tickles and tweaks. My breasts quivered with excitement, my nipples felt like they would burst, the cleft of my loins dripped in anticipation and then... then I felt her tongue on me, down below. The wonderful texture of her tongue caressed every fold of my sensitive flesh. I was quivering. I could feel myself tightening. I was in bliss, I was in heaven. I felt myself gasping in pleasure... And suddenly, I was awake. I remembered the dream. It was impossible to forget. Here I was, writhing on the bed, hips thrust up in the air. I knew enough of my new female sexual response to realize that I was responding as if Amber were actually here in the room with me. I was wide open and approaching a magnificent climax. And I still felt her tongue on me, for real! What was going on? In the few moments it took to finish coming awake, I understood exactly what was happening... and so did Crys. Our climax evaporated in the confusion and in its wake I felt a growing fury. I knew it wasn't my fury. Just as I knew that it was directed squarely at *me*. There were all sorts of sick undertones to the emotion, too: hatred, revulsion, a sense of violation. And something that scared me. It was a feeling of determination. A feeling of vengeance. The whiplash of emotions was too much. I broke down in tears again. I knew I couldn't take much more of this. I think I could have handled the contempt of almost anyone else, but through some freak of nature Crys was there inside me, inside my defenses. I had no way to ward off her hatred. I had no escape. But that was wrong. I *did* have an escape -- there was exactly one way out. I quickly pulled the furniture away from my door. The maids wouldn't appreciate me, but that was the least of my problems. Out in the hallway I realized that I was dressed rather inappropriately. The gauzy white outfit I was wearing was covered in a sick combination of spattered blood, tears, and my own...fluids from the not-dream I'd just had. It was crumpled and torn and completely disarrayed. I tried straightening it, but that didn't do much good. I decided to avoid people by taking the stairwell to the top floor. This building, Lab Complex 8, was the only portion of the Planetary Alliance Special Agent training facility that I'd been granted access to. I had no idea where we were -- underground, in deep space, on an inhospitable planet. The building had no windows. Gravity seemed normal, which is to say, there were none of the effects I would expect from a spinning habitat. Either it was very solid artificial gravity, or we were on a planet. The question was, what would be better: up or down? Down had the possibility of heavy machinery, boilers, furnaces, and the like. But those rooms would probably have restricted access. On the other hand, there was a large shaft over the central atrium that stretched up 30 stories over the central courtyard-park. And there was a nice geodesic lattice, on the inside of the covering dome... And before I knew it, I was in motion upward. My room was at mid-level, so I was barely winded when I reached the top floor. The view was spectacular. Lab Complex 8 was a hollow ring of a building that surrounded a wide central courtyard. Trees and greenery covered the central space, towering upward through the open shaft. There was a small lake and countless tables and gazebos. The problem was, the drop was only 80 or 90 meters from the top floor, and most of the open space had a thick carpet of greenery. My enhanced body had subdermal armor good enough to stop a rifle bullet or dagger stab. If I hit a tree on the way down, not only would I survive, I might not even break any bones. If I landed on soft turf, I would probably survive. I would have to fall head first onto a solid surface. And the only solid surface was the decorative basalt outcropping in the center of the courtyard. To reach that, I'd have to climb out onto the latticework that supported the geodesic skylight-dome. The good news was that the arch of the dome might give me an extra ten meters of drop. Matching thought to action, I climbed up on the walkway's railing. Crouching down, I sprang for the lattice overhead. My enhanced musculature was more than equal to the task -- I shot four meters up to grab the metal poles that formed the support web under the dome. It was a bit more awkward clambering out toward the center of the dome. I'd need to be near the peak before I dropped. As I clambered out, I wondered about Crys. What would happen to her when I impacted? She'd certainly feel something. Perhaps a brief flash of pain. Not too much, I hoped, but to be truthful, I wanted her to feel *something*. There should be some sign to mark my passing. Would there be any danger to her? If I died, would my "psychic twin" also die? I couldn't believe that. As they'd operated on her, I'd felt a little of her pain, but taken no physical harm. And even if the shock did temporarily stop her heart, she was probably in the single best spot in the galaxy to receive help. She would be up and active again in no time, then she and Amber could... could go about their normal lives. I realized that tears were dripping off my face. Good. That would help me judge the impact point. I still had a short distance to go. It was getting harder, though. I was suddenly starting to feel sick to my stomach. There was an odd sort of spinning effect in my middle ears; my balance felt off. That was particularly odd, since the new modified me had a sense of balance that put my old merely-human balance to shame. But now everything was off. I had to grab hold of a support rod and cling to it, to keep from falling. I didn't want to fall -- I still had to move another twenty meters forward. I was right over the lake. I reached out toward the next strut -- and felt my stomach lurch. Uh huh. I was coming to recognize which feelings were mine, and which were secondhand. I scanned the terraces around me. There. Off to my right, on the top floor. Amber and Crys were staring at me. There were a handful of other watchers, too, at various points. Amber was dressed in a white fluffy bathrobe. Crys was wearing a large T-shirt, big enough on her to count as a dress. They were both staring at me. (Joshua, what do you think you're doing?) I hadn't wanted to engage in mental communication. Here at the base, everyone seemed to have had the telepathic enhancement. A hundred minds watched in the background, eavesdropping on our personal thoughts and feelings. It was easy enough to cut them off, if I kept my attention away from the special "space" that telepathy seemed to occur in. But it was impossible to have a telepathic conversation here without it being public to anyone currently "listening." (We have a problem,) I tried to reply, calmly. (I'm solving it.) (And how exactly is this going to make things any better?) I stared at Crys, although there's no way from this distance that Amber could pick up on that. (Ask *her* whether there's a problem or not. Ask her how she likes having someone constantly eavesdropping on her thoughts and feelings. She hates it. And she's right. This isn't her fault, and she shouldn't be forced to go through this. She's right. I *have* stolen her body. I'm a copy, an absolutely perfect copy of her, and I'm going to stay that way for the next four years. So I'm taking care of things. Besides, she hates me. Don't bother denying it, because I can feel it. I don't think I could stand living with that hatred for four years straight.) Concentrating hard, I reached for the next support and pulled myself forward. The anger and resentment hit me hard. (Don't you dare blame this on me!) This was the first time I'd felt her mental voice. It was a shame. Even angry, the feel of her mind was as beautiful as the body she'd designed. (I'm not,) I replied. (This was circumstances, nothing more. You had nothing to do with it.) I reached forward again. (If you weren't such a sissy WIMP,) she shouted, (you wouldn't be taking the coward's way out!) I'd been trying to hold back my anger, but now I let go. (And if you weren't such a selfish, self-centered, emotionally immature, possessive, childish little nymphomaniac, maybe I wouldn't have to!) I let her have the full force of my anger and pain. For good measure, I slapped myself in the face as hard as I could. It hurt a lot. Glancing over, I could tell that she felt the blow. (Like it? Just imagine how it's going to feel when your entire face is shattered in by those rocks down there!) (Joshua...) It was Amber. I could feel the concern in the delicate touch of her mind. It was so sweet. I realized how much I loved her. And Crys loved her. There was a twisted interplay of emotions between us. She felt my love, and I felt her jealously, but it roused an echoing love in her, even if that had mostly possessive overtones. (Joshua, you don't have to do this.) It was a pretty weak line. I reached out for another support, while replying. (Joshua died back on Permafrost. I don't know who this new person is, but she's in the way. I'm going to fix that. No big loss.) I was starting to feel a new emotion coming from Crys. It was sort of a hollowness, a sense of loss. (You stupid fool,) she sent. (You're really going to go through with this, aren't you? You know, we could have worked it out.) (Uh, huh. Sure.) (You calling me a liar?) (Liar,) I said. I could feel her fury building up again, as I'm sure she could feel my laughter. It wasn't polite laughter, I was laughing *at* her. And to be fair, I was laughing unhappily at myself and everything I was about to lose. (Well you had BETTER work it out,) Amber yelled at us, (because unless you do, I'm not going to talk to EITHER of you, ever again!) That set off a fountain of emotions in Crystal. I could tell she was yelling at Amber. I could hear it from my current location, even if I couldn't make out the words. I concentrated on climbing forward to my destination while they argued. Oddly, I found my heart wasn't really in it any more. Facing Crystal's open anger was actually a lot easier than living with her silent hatred and resentment. Maybe having parts of her mind had changed me more than I had realized. Not that the change had been any great loss. Chronic depression was something that anyone would be happy to trade away. I started thinking about my resolve. Did I really want to do this? Or was I blindly fulfilling the same pattern that had led to the end of my last life? I didn't really know. (Okay,) Crys finally sent. (Here's the deal. We meet in the park below: right now. You and me, face to face, hand to hand. You win, and you can set your own terms. I win, and we'll agree to share her. Agreed?) (Amber?) I sent. (I'm not talking to EITHER of you until you act like intelligent, civilized people again.) (Okay,) I sent. (Agreed. Meet you in the park.) I looked down. Just about perfect. I let go and dropped. I felt my stomach convulse in agony. I knew Crys was throwing up. But this was perfect. I was over the deepest section of the lake. >From this height, it was possible for a properly trained *human* to make a decent jump. For me it would be a piece of cake. This was no worse than any other high dive I'd done. I stretched my arms out... and was completely out of balance. *What the hell?* I'd done high dives hundreds of times before. Admittedly, never with breasts, but - - and then I realized. *I* had done high dives. Apparently Crystal never had. I flailed like a novice, and watched as things slowed down. Okay, there was nothing tricky to this. I tried to ignore the spasms coming from my stomach. Arms forward, head down. There was enough time to adjust my form, consciously and deliberately. It occurred to me that there probably aren't many large-breasted high divers. I suspected that this was going to hurt quite a bit. I was heading down toward the water faster and faster...inhale... tuck the head in... and IMPACT! My breasts hurt, but not as much as I'd expected. I could live with it (no alternate meanings really intended there). My clothes were gone -- stripped off the second I'd plunged into the water. A silvery school of fish scattered as I shot down into the dark green depths of the lake. I arched my back and curved back up to the surface. Oops -- did Crystal know how to swim? I'd find out soon enough. I kicked hard and shot toward the surface, almost coming completely out of the water. And just like a light switch being flipped, I found myself awash in euphoria. I was a beautiful naked young girl, swimming like a goddess in this perfect lake. There was no need to die, maybe even no need to hate. I just had some lumps to take. It was a no-lose situation. Crystal had agreed to share. I stroked easily, still under a mild time acceleration, to retrieve my dress. It was looking pretty sad, but it was better than nothing. I put it on, and climbed onto the sandy beach to wait for Crystal. It wasn't a long wait. She came flying around the corner in what I now recognized as an accelerated-speed run. Bouncing off the wall, she came flying toward me, kicking off rocks and trees, barely setting foot on the ground. She looked mad, and I knew she meant business. I dropped back into a stance, feeling the world slow, feeling the moves come to me. The thing was, if I went with the regular moves, I'd be dead. Well, not literally, but she'd pound me into hamburger. Perhaps I deserved that, but I wanted to make something of a decent showing. And whatever moves I had magically acquired, Crystal knew them all much better than I did. I'd probably be better off trying stupid and unpredictable stuff. That's why I'd taken position under a large oak tree. She came literally flying at me, feet first, with enough force to kick my stomach through my spine. It wasn't the most modest view, but it was nothing I hadn't seen on myself, these past weeks. I jumped straight up, grabbing a branch and swinging my feet up. But Crys flailed out with an arm to grab me. It missed me, but ripped my poor dress away. I was now totally naked. I turned, and jumped for where Crys was landing. I had two thoughts: first, that whatever fighting skills we had, they might not cover close wrestling. Second, that they probably didn't cover fights in the water. I shot straight toward Crys, arms out, to grapple and knock her into the water. Fat chance. She rolled on her back and used her feet to push me over and past, so that I was in the water, but she wasn't. But then the good news: she came wading in after me. I needed to twist my body, and felt the gymnastic skills right at hand. Why hadn't I been able to do this while diving? No matter, I went into a tuck, legs tightly together, and twisted so that I was facing her as I landed on my feet. She was already moving toward me, arms wide. In the moment allowed by my accelerated time sense, it struck me as odd that I should be so afraid of this slip of a girl rushing toward me. Barely 154 centimeters tall, and all of 47 kilos soaking wet (as I currently was), she was a slender, adolescent, almost tiny girl. But I knew what those scientifically perfected muscles were capable of. Just over a week ago, I'd been attacked by a man who had been a half meter taller than me and probably twice my weight. Using martial arts moves that I barely understood at the time, I'd broken his arm and then snapped his neck, all in about a second. I had plenty of reason to be cautious of the tiny girl hurtling at me. As she reached me, I tried to pivot aside while moving my arm in a block. Crys anticipated and swung her leg around. I was already in motion -- I couldn't shift in time -- and then her kick hit me. It was the front part of her shin striking high, across my chest. I felt my breasts explode in agony as I was thrown backward, deeper into the lake. I think I was in shock. I hadn't realized I could be hurt so much. It was like being kicked in the testicles back when I'd been a man, but over a much larger area. As I sank backward into the water, for a moment Crys wasn't in my face. I should have done something with the time, I should have moved or swum or escaped. Instead, I was cursing the damn accelerated time sense. My agony just went on and on, forever. Just as I was coming out of my shock, there was a splash above me. It was Crys, plunging into the water after me. I struggled upward, weakly. I realized that I had been exhaling, as I entered the water. I was sure that she had inhaled. She reached for my throat, but I blocked. Between our speeded time sense and the water, it was like moving in molasses. I jabbed for her eyes, but she grabbed my arm and pulled me toward her. I pulled my arm to the side, striking in with my other fist. She grabbed that, too, and brought her knees up to -- *oh, no, not again* -- knee my aching breasts. For a moment, I was completely helpless. Before I understood what was happening, I had my arms wrapped around my chest and was curling into a ball. Crys had me spun around. I felt her legs lock around my waist, and her hands lock around my neck. I clawed and grabbed, catching skin, pulling some of her hair out. It hurt like the devil each time, since I was feeling her pain, but she didn't let up. Her tiny hands locked around my slender neck and *squeezed.* I thrashed for a nearly a minute I think. An amazing amount of time to go, while under a choke hold. But things finally faded to black. ***** Life returned with a cough. I coughed up some water, and then spit up some sand. I levered myself up to my hands and knees, and then managed to throw up. Two feet stepped into the sand ahead of me. I slowly craned my head upwards. The legs rose up and up, into the oversized T-shirt being worn by Crystal. She stood, arms folded under her breasts, towering over me like a colossus. "You give?" she demanded in her threatening soprano. I coughed up more water. "I give." "Good. Then hurry up and get moving. We're getting you inside and dressed. We've given too many people a free show as it is." She held out a hand. I took it, pulling myself to my feet. I wrapped my arms carefully around my chest. Not out of modesty, out of pain. The slightest motion or pressure still caused me pain. "Man," Crys said. "I almost *died* when I kicked you in the tits. Damn that hurt!" "It didn't feel so great on this side, either." I'd been taking an awful lot of breast pain lately. Men get accused of leading with their chin. Which would imply that a woman would lead with...? I could tell I was going to be moving with an awful lot of caution for my sensitive breasts from now on. "What the HELL was that?" Amber stood in front of us like a wrathful goddess. "That was the stupidest display of... macho IDIOCY I have ever seen in my life! Were you trying to prove something?" She stared at me. "Joshua, I thought you were smarter than that! And Crys," she turned, "I thought you'd gotten over that a LONG time ago!" She huffed. She literally huffed. "You can both just sleep ALONE until you figure out how to act like civilized women, at the same time, in the same room! Until then, I don't want to see EITHER of you!" She turned and stormed off. I slowly slid to the ground. Crys followed. I think it was me that started it. I can't really be sure. I felt the laughter bubbling up inside of me, inside of Crys, inside of us. In a second, we were both howling with laughter. I gasped every time I felt a spike of agony in my still-tender breasts, but I still howled. I looked at Crys as she looked at me. From her expression, I knew we had the same thought. I tried to say it, but couldn't gasp out the word. She tried, and finally croaked out, "Women!" We both howled some more. She finally helped me up again, and we tottered off into the complex, still giggling. "You have a place of your own yet?" she asked, gasping. "A temporary room, but..." I didn't really want to go back to face a pile of furniture and a blood-splashed mirror. "How about you?" She nodded. "Right next to Amber's. There's a connecting door. 'Course, that's probably locked right now." There was a twinge of regret. "Come on. I've probably got something to fit you." That started us both giggling again. By the time we staggered into Crystal's room, my breasts were feeling fully recovered. Crys closed the door, and then headed for her closet. "So, ah..." I ventured, "were you once a man, way back when?" That stopped her in her tracks. She turned to look at me, face set in a frown. "Yeah. Want to make something of it?" I held up my hands. "No, no. I only wondered because of something Amber said. That and the fact that it just seems odd for a woman to get into a fight and then make up with her opponent like this. It's kind of a guy thing. I know that *I* was a guy until two weeks ago, and..." "And now you're wondering what kind of pervert would deliberately choose to get changed into a girl?" "Oh, not at all!" I waved my hands at her, denying it. "Two weeks ago, I might have thought something like that. But now..." I thought about the things Amber and I had done. A pleasant glow seemed to lift out of my heart. "...now... it's different. I don't know who you are really, or why you've done anything. But I know for me," I spoke very quietly, "I'll never go back to being a man. Not in four years, not in four hundred." "Oh." She looked thoughtful at that. She turned back to the closet, silent for a while as she picked through her clothes. I only felt confusion coming from her. "You'd probably better wash up before you get dressed." "Okay," I answered, meekly. I headed into the shower and set it for a very hot spray and a mild dose of sonics. That helped take the tension out of me. My body healed up fast enough, but my emotions took much longer to recover. Today I'd been whipped back and forth so many times I'd almost lost count. I was feeling weak and vulnerable, and more than anything I wanted to go in to see Amber. I wanted her to hold me and cuddle with me and tell me she still loved me. I wanted to be safe and secure and loved. I wanted to let down my defenses. Actually, they were starting to come down whether I wanted them to or not, out of sheer emotional fatigue. Crys walked into the bathroom, stark naked. Her body had been deliberately designed to be a mid-pubescent wet dream. Her figure wasn't exaggerated, but there was an innocent vulnerability about her that almost screamed "sixteen-year-old virgin." Sure, almost every aspect of that was an illusion. I knew she was far from vulnerable, and far from being a virgin, but the illusion *looked* perfect. Her body moved perfectly for an innocent sixteen-year-old. Her actions and motions spoke of a young girl newly arrived on the threshold of womanhood, yearning but fearful of her blossoming sexuality. And her eyes, her firm young breasts, the tiny slit of her womanhood still awaiting the first tuft of pubic hair -- all these shouted to me with all the sexual triggers I knew. I held back a groan as I realized how hard my nipples had become, and how tight I was growing inside. Crys halted, then turned toward me. "Are you getting turned on by me?" I tried to clamp my knees together. "Of COURSE I'm getting turned on by you! You are the God-damned sexiest woman alive! Well, after Amber. I mean, look at you! The way you walk! That little sway of your hips. The bounce of your breasts. My God, your face is sooooo gorgeous. OF COURSE you turn me on!" She paused, turning toward me and jutting her hips to the side. "Really?" She sounded like she didn't believe it. "Yes, really." She lifted her breasts, one in each hand, jiggling them slightly, then rubbing her nipples in between her thumb and finger. I felt it all. It set fire to my breasts, lustful, sensual fire. Heh, heh. Two could play at that game. I took a soap-slippery finger a teased it down between my legs, slipping it into my slit and touching my clitoris. I ran the finger around my opening and stroked my sensitive spots. Outside, Crystal got a wide-eyed "Oh!" look on her face, and her knees bent outward, spreading her legs wide. I suddenly realized that while we had been receiving feelings from each other, until now the only thing she'd gotten from me was pain and depression. No wonder she'd been so grumpy! It was time to turn things around. But... I was afraid she'd reject me again. Gathering my courage for that was one of the hardest things I've ever done. Much harder than planning suicide. I looked at her and said, "Crystal... if you want to take a shower, too... I could," my heart was pounding, but I forced myself to finish, "I could wash your back." She came over, with an oddly surprised look on her face. "My heart is pounding like a little girl's," she confessed. "You ARE a little girl," I said. "Besides, I think that's *my* heart." "Oh." She opened the door and came into the shower quietly, not doing anything to change the mood. Nothing positive, nothing negative. She turned on the other shower spray and stood under it, facing the wall. I carefully soaped up the washcloth. I've had many times in my life when my heart was pounding like it would burst. I was always afraid that other people could hear, that they knew how I felt. This was different, since I *knew* that Crystal could feel my heart; she knew exactly how I felt. Things had gone so horribly wrong between us. Was there a chance to save it? Could we turn things around? I reached toward her back with the washcloth. And then... I touched her. For the first time ever, I touched her tenderly, instead of harshly. Even in the hot water, I felt goose bumps leap up on my back, chest, and arms. I saw the same, on Crystal's skin. Tenderly, I began rubbing her back with the cloth, washing, stroking. In a moment, I realized that I knew where it felt best. I concentrated my efforts there. I felt a need to be touched on the back of the neck, and instantly my cloth was there, my fingers were there, massaging the tension. I felt a need for arms around me, and without thinking about it, the cloth had been dropped and my arms we circling around her, clasping her around the stomach, a comforting support under her breasts. I felt my own breasts, pressing into my back, feeling the hard nipples from both the inside and on my back, where they made delightful little points of pressure, like little thumbs. Lust rose from both of us, twin dynamos of passion. Being in sync like this meant that the feeling was more intense than I'd felt before. But lust wasn't what I wanted. I moved my mouth up behind her ear. "I don't want to have sex with you, Crystal," I said, as quietly as I could in the spray of the shower. I felt her confusion, with a spike of regret. She knew exactly what I was feeling. How could I deny it? I continued. "I want to *love* you. I'll settle for being your friend, but I want to love you. Can we try that?" She turned around in my arms, tears in our eyes. "Why? After what I did to you..." "You saved my life," I said. "My life was over when I first saw you. I had less than an hour left. But when I met you, everything changed. Literally. You gave me more than a new body, you gave me a new life, a new soul. I owe you everything. I thought today that you were taking back those gifts. That's okay. It's your right. You'd still given me two weeks longer than I would have had on my own. But instead, you chose to share. To share your body, your life, and I hope, to share Amber. Maybe I'm greedy, but I want it all. I want to share your love, too. I want to love you. I'm going to be feeling you inside me for quite a while. I want to love that person. And..." since I was feeling so brave, I rushed on "...maybe you can even teach me to love myself." For a moment, she just absorbed what I'd said. She trembled a bit, then looked me in the eye. I saw, and felt, a tenderness there. Not love, not yet. But there was a longing and a hope that was everything I could have asked for. Our lips found each other and we were suddenly embracing. We must have stayed like that for minutes -- our tongues probing each other's mouth, feeling everything from both sides. Our hands wandered up and down each other's back and neck, unwilling to break the newfound embrace. Then, with a sudden mutual decision, we shut off the shower and jumped out, spending an excited moment toweling each other dry. Neither of us spoke. We both wanted to test our feelings and communication without interrupting it with crude speech. It was incredible to be running my towel over this incredibly desirable girl. Her large young breasts had no hint of sag or age yet -- the skin was still stretched tight over the newly budded breast tissue. She jiggled as I toweled her off. I was rougher than I might have been, but it felt so good. Her waist was perfect: slim and narrow, indented slightly even in front, at the belly. Her hips came suddenly, dramatically flaring out from that trim waist. Her rear was perfect, the round globes of her cheeks protruding perfectly from the narrow pinch of her waist. And then there were those legs: her long, silky smooth legs. Her thighs were tightly muscled perfection, her calves were delightful, her ankles delicious, her feet begged to be stroked. And then I reversed course, moving my way back up her legs, toward... That's where she stopped me. Silently, we switched places, and she dried *me* off, giving me the same exquisite attention. We were identical, after all. I'd felt every touch I'd given her, but there was an element that hadn't come across our link. I hadn't realized how wonderfully, delightfully girlishly feminine it made me feel to be appreciated, *worshipped* like this. I squirmed in delight as Crystal gave me the treatment that I'd just given her. The rough fabric of her towel stroked up and down my back. I felt my curves, from the sweep of my back through the pinch of my waist, down and around the swell of my butt. I felt the towel coming around my front, caressing my neck, paying special loving and lingering attention to my breasts, giving a little extra unnecessary drying to my hard nipples. Now she was drying the underside of my breasts. I loved the bounce each breast felt as she moved the towel in and out. My lover moved the towel down to my belly, wrapping it around my tiny waist to circle me, then moving down my legs. The time she spent on my thighs was a torment of lustful temptation. So near, and yet, so far. My calves and feet were caressed and appreciated. If felt complete. Then the towel moved back up, drying the inner calves, the inner thighs. I suddenly stopped her, because the wetness between my legs hadn't come from the shower. Clutching each other, we staggered over to the bed, sinking breathlessly into its overstuffed depths. Now there was nothing holding us back. I used my fingernails to scratch soft traces over her legs, tummy, and breasts. She tweaked my nipples and nibbled at my neck. I gave her ear a tiny bite. She buried her face between my breasts, licking, sucking, caressing with her tongue. I clutched her head, while my own was thrown back in a shuddering moan of pleasure. And everything she did to me, she felt as well. Everything I did to her was echoed in me. It was nothing like touching *myself* -- there's nothing erotic in kissing my own arm, or tracing a finger up my own inner thigh. No, this was more like there were four of us crammed into the space for two. Every time I ran my fingernails lightly down her back. a ghostly extra lover ran *her* fingernails down *my* back. Every time she nipped at my neck, I saw her shudder in pleasure as well. Finally, we couldn't hold off any longer. Swinging around I moved my mouth over her nipples (shuddering inside, as I did so), traced my tongue down her belly (shivering in anticipation), and slowly walked my lips toward that widely yawning, yearning, emptiness between her legs. She did the same for me, and by now, I *needed* to feel her there, between my legs. I needed her delicate little tongue to touch me, caress me, make love to me. I realized that my legs were spread wide with the need of her. We arrived at our destinations simultaneously. Those first secret licks sent us immediately into squeezing, shuddering, spasms of delight. I felt wave after wave of pleasure pumping through me. My nipples were, briefly, even harder, so that I felt every touch that brushed against them. I felt the waves of pleasure running through Crystal as well, slightly out of sync with my own. For a moment, the phases matched up and we were in identical rhythm, screaming dual soprano squeals of delight. The moment passed and my body calmed slightly, but now I was enflamed by a desire to repeat that peak. Unlike my miserable limitations as a man, this climax has only whetted my appetite for more. With a devilish delight, I speared Crystal on the probing instrument of my tongue. My lips wrapped around her folds, sucking, teasing. My tongue was first broad and flat, licking down the length of her, then pointed, jabbing with its soft mass at her clitoris, at the folds of her vulva, at the yawning invitation of her vagina. And every time I touched her, I felt a ghostly lover licking my vulva, penetrating shyly into my vagina, and caressing the sensitive nub of my clitoris. Added to the effects of my ghostly lover, Crystal herself was busily working my steamy folds of flesh, eagerly licking up the moisture I was so copiously producing. We felt totally in sync this time, and I felt us rising toward that plateau together. Whenever I felt a need, I answered it in Crystal, giving manic attention to the spots that gave me the most pleasure. Simultaneously, I felt her going wild down in my own folds. And still, the tension rose higher. Finally, we settled on a pattern for the home sprint. I focused exclusively on her vagina, my tongue flickering in, out, and around. It drove me wild, feeling the ghostly little tongue probing as deeply as it could into my own sensitive hole. Meanwhile, Crystal concentrated on my clitoris, tongue lashing the ultra-sensitive little button back and forth until it was ready to drive us both wild. I had the delight of two women mouthing away at my most sensitive recesses, while I had my face gleefully buried between the thighs of my love. And finally, we reached our crescendo. The waves pulsed through us both, in perfect synchrony. I felt two pair of breasts becoming ultra sensitive, two pair of nipples that were suddenly alert to every pressure and every touch. I felt two complete sets of skin, reacting with exquisite sensitivity to the harsh satin of the bed and the delightfully smoothness of a lover's skin in contact. I felt two sets of thighs gripping together, crushing my lover's head between my legs, even as my own head was squeezing in the loving embrace of climax. Throwing our heads back, we gave two deep throated screams of absolute unrestrained gleeful climax. We held each other tightly like that for what seemed to be several minutes, while the delightful spasms passed through us. Eventually we seemed to slip slightly out of sync, which brought its own pleasures. The after-spasms would come first through me, then a second later, again through me. I couldn't tell which was mine and which hers. Finally, the delicious shivering dropped down to a level that we again became aware of the outside world. First, I recalled dimly that I'd heard a frantic pounding on the wall. Not the main door, it had been (we thought) the door to Amber's suite. And had we heard that door opening? Looking up, we both gave a guilty start at the sight of Amber, arms dangling, mouth gaping, staring at us. "Well, I guess you aren't killing each other," she finally said. "No," one of us began, "not fighting," the other ended, dreamily. "We thought we'd try..." "...love, instead." We looked at each other and giggled. "I'm glad to see you were able to overcome your differences." That was a good one! We giggled again. "What differences?" we answered in unison. We sat up in bed together, then, surrendering to a sudden impulse, we hugged. Amber looked at us, perplexed. "Uh, which one of you is which?" That prompted more giggling. "Which is Crystal..." "...and which is..." The old male name wasn't right. A new name was needed. Crystal's sister. "Ruby?" No. "Diamond?" Not quite. "Elizabeth?" Definitely not. "Katherine?" Possibilities. "Caitlin." Ah, yes. "Caitlin Macintyre." Really? Truly. She would be / allow / accept being sisters? She would. We would. Suddenly wailing, we embraced again. "Okay, enough is enough! What is it this time?" "Sisters!" we said in unison, bawling together. We held each other, then slowly pulled away, looking at our twin in the face, in the eyes. We searched for acceptance and found it. Yes, sisters. We gave each other a passionate kiss. After a while, we reluctantly broke apart. The bond we'd temporarily achieved during shared intimacy began to loosen. Try as we might, the unity couldn't be maintained. A bond remained, it would always remain, but I felt us becoming separate again. It was bittersweet, but we knew how to return whenever we wanted. Amber had a quirky look of disappointment or resignation. "Now that you've found each other, I guess there's no need for old Amber, is there?" Crystal gave a grin. "I wouldn't say that!" "Not at all," I added. "After all," "we both love you," we answered in unison, surprising ourselves. "And," Crystal continued, "I can think of all sorts of delicious games the *three* of us can play." Amber looked closer at her. "Crystal?" We both nodded. "And Josh- Caitlin?" she asked me. I nodded. "We're separate again." "Really? You mean, you weren't 'separate' a moment ago?" Crystal nodded, I shrugged. "This, I've *got* to hear! How about some food?" "Ooo, yeah," Crys gushed. "Plates and plates of fried chicken!" "Yeah," I agreed, "piles of potato salad, stacks of corn cobs!" Amber held her arms up. "Okay, okay. Don't you think you two could use a shower, first?" "But that's how all of this got *started*!" Crys jumped out of bed, grabbing Amber's hand and jumping up and down. "Take us to dinner, Amber! Please, please, please!" I copied her, grabbing Amber's other hand. "We're hungry, Amber! We need food RIGHT NOW! Please!" We managed a unified, "Pleeeease!" "GIRLS! You will take a shower NOW, and then you will dress nicely for dinner! Identically or otherwise. And then, you will tell me EVERYTHING." ***** We decided to go identical, and managed to pull together matching miniskirts, blouses, and blazers. There were plenty of looks at dinner. I'm not sure if that was due to the fact that Amber was introducing us as "the Macintyre twins, Crystal and Caitlin," or because people had witnessed our naked death match earlier in the day. We decided on several things. We *would* report the unity we'd experienced to our Kref doctor (despite his remark about experimenting on us), but we wouldn't try to repeat the situation yet. At least, not under laboratory conditions. Maybe later. In a burst of hope, Crys and I would try moving in together, sharing a room and a bed. At least most nights. When Crys was having visitors, I would sleep with Amber. And we would make a real try at being sisters. As with any extremely close relationship, we both expected several rough spots, but our little taste of unity had made us both believe in the other, and believe that the attempt was worthwhile. And finally, we reassured Amber. We revealed to her, and to ourselves, that one of our main conflicts had been that we *both* loved her and wanted her, and that neither of us was willing to give her up. That finally got her crying, and then us crying, and eventually we were all hugging and saying loving supportive things to each other. The days that followed were ideal for letting us work out a balance to our new triad. I had a full schedule of training in order to become fully qualified as a special agent. A lot of it was memorization and book learning. I learned to tell a Schriber Gauss-rifle from a Grobe particle wand, and how to check and field-strip both. I learned the history and background of the Logaran race (just in case I needed to drop info on my fake background). A got a tutorial on the main galactic power factions and a top-level who's who. Amber and Crys were taking the advanced version. When you're a Special Agent, the training never stops. I learned a dozen ways to tail suspects, on horseback, in a crowd, and even with taxis. The traceless Special Agent telepathy was an incredible asset for situations like this. I laid the groundwork for galactic navigation (although our ship, Cleopatra, would usually do this for us), operations of vehicles of all kinds: ground, air, space, and starships. There was forensics, linguistics, data systems (at least I aced one course), and working with local law enforcement. I'd always been a bit bookish, but this was a huge load. Somehow I managed to stay afloat. I was helped by the fact that most of the instructors took one look at me and expected me to be a bubblehead. And this was in the Special Agent training courses. They *knew* we were all nano- altered from our original bodies. They knew we'd all passed rigorous qualification tests. Prejudice dies hard, I suppose. If that wasn't enough, we had plenty of physical training, too. I did pretty well in these. The movements, skills, and reflexes were already in me, I just had to learn about them with my conscious brain. My afternoon sessions of physical training were the highlight of my day. Every day I learned a new skill, and I was already expert in all of them! First they ran me through gymnastics. Those of us with figures (I mean, those of us with big tits) wore extremely tight sports bras, for which I was grateful once we started the more athletic maneuvers. I could have achieved a similar effect by tightening internal ligaments, but oddly, the bra felt good. The warm-up exercises were fantastic. From a standing position, I'd drop down into perfect splits, place my palms on the ground, then lift my body and legs up. Then (still in splits) I'd lean forward until I could straighten up into a handstand (still in splits) then pull my legs together overhead. Finally I'd do front-back splits, keeping my handstand balance and curling slightly to bring my back leg down, foot flat on the floor, so that I could uncurl and stand up. All of this was done slowly, stretching, in perfect control. Feeling my body stretch and move like that was enough to harden my nipples, which I'm sure everybody noticed. Of course, we all watched each other constantly for signs of arousal. The men were particularly interesting, in their tight gymnastic pants. The stretching exercises were the most arousing. It had something to do with slow, sensuous movements done under perfect control as your body bent and swayed. You really put yourself on display. More vigorous activities weren't arousing (well, not as a performer), but they were plenty of fun. They always took total concentration, as I navigated my way through the intellectual understanding of what was happening, combined with the physical skills I'd inherited from Crystal. Plenty of times I panicked in mid-air, but the time-slowing rush of adrenaline was enough of an advantage that I was able to recover. It took me a while, but I began to realize that the other trainees were also using this trick. It made sense. You did your best, but when in trouble, you tried everything in slow motion. With repetition, less and less "cheating" was necessary, as the body fully integrated the skills. I learned to recognize "the look" of someone who was in acceleration: the body was tenser, there were a lot more nervous energy, and the eyes seemed to flicker in their rushed movement. Although I kept up in gymnastics, after mastering the basics (or reacquainting myself with skills I already "knew"), I moved into other related areas: climbing, martial arts, and dance. Climbing was half strength and half skill. My newly engineered body had strength in abundance. The skill was completely missing. I discovered that my little twin Crystal suffered from severe vertigo. Although it meant that I had to learn this on my own, for once I was actually in front of Crys rather than following behind in areas that she had long since ma