ReGenesis, Inc.6: Good Help Isn't All That Hard To Make free porn video

As is stated this is the sixth story in the ReGenesis, Inc. universe. It is another prequel, this one taking place prior to the first prequel "The Recruitment". This story essentially collects a lot of loose ends from the earlier stories in an attempt to say where some of the inhabitants within ReGenesis originally came. It doesn't include everyone. Those who archive stories freely may do so with this one. All five previous stories have been posted to this list. And should be available in its archives. They are (in order of posting): 1. ReGenesis, Inc. 2. The Recruitment 3. Indistinguishable from Magic 4. A Loose End Tied 5. As Children into the Abyss ReGenesis, Inc. - Number 6 (another prequel) Good Help Isn't All that Hard to Make By Bill Hart Phil and Larry sat nervously in the large reception area outside the offices of ReGenesis, Inc. It almost seemed they'd been waiting forever for Dr. Sinclair to acknowledge their presence. "Why do you think Bob sent for us? Have you got any idea what he wants, Larry?" asked Phil, continually squirming in his seat. "I don't have the slightest idea," replied Larry. "How about you? Have you got any idea what he wants?" "No, not really," lied Phil. Although he had a good idea why Larry was here, he had no clue why he was sitting here with him. Last week, while he and Larry had been talking about many of the unusual things that always went on at ReGenesis, Inc., Larry had told him the first chance he got to leave he was gone. He'd also told Phil he'd better think about getting out before he also vanished without a trace like so many other people that came to work at ReGenesis. And not knowing what else to do, Phil had told Dr. Sinclair. Only now he wished he hadn't said a word. "I sure wish they'd at least let us know that they know we're sitting out here, Phil." "Me too, Larry." At that moment, Vincent Martensen entered the reception area from the stairwell. "Hey, Vinnie," said both young men, happy at finally seeing someone else. "What are two guys doing loafing around here?" asked Vinnie. "I thought this was your shift. Shouldn't both of you be working now? "Yeah, we should be, but Dr. Sinclair wanted to see us," said Larry. "But we've been sitting around here and waiting for close to an hour now," added Phil, "and we ain't seen nobody except you." "Does the doctor know you're out here waiting?" asked Vinnie. "I don't know," replied Larry. "I don't think so," added Phil. "When I go inside, I'll remind Bob you're out here waiting to see him." Vinnie shook his head. "I keep telling them they ought to hire a receptionist to man this desk - maybe now they'll think seriously about finding one." Phil and Larry watched Vincent go through the door behind the unused desk and into the office area. They watched the door swing shut. Phil nervously looked at his friend. "I'm not all that sure his telling them we're waiting out here is such a good idea, Larry." "Me neither," replied an equally nervous Larry. "You know something, Phil, I have the strangest feeling we'd be a lot better off if they just forgot about us being out here altogether." ***** Vinnie wasn't surprised when he saw a large ox and an equally large bull just standing around as he went through the doorway. Given all the other strange things he'd seen while working for ReGenesis, he'd learned to expect just about anything. He'd also learned not to ask a lot of questions; the wrong ones could quickly get you into trouble. The doctors would tell him whatever they thought he needed to know. "How you are do doing today, Teyba?" he asked the odd man with the striking set of four-point antlers coming out of Dr. Sinclair's office. Teyba looked at Vincent for just an instant, but said nothing. That didn't surprise Vincent either. Teyba had always been a man of few words. And most of his words simply made no sense to Vincent. The antlered man made a couple of quick motions, one at each of the animals, with his hands, then turned and started walking towards wherever it was he generally went. The two animals followed him as if they were each on a short leash. Vincent wondered what the two crazy doctors he worked for were scheming about today, as he watched Teyba, followed by an ox and a bull in full puppy-dog mode, depart. "They're parts of a new experiment, Vincent," said Dr. Sinclair. "I'm sure you know we've been a little short-handed of late; we're hoping this will help relieve at least a part of our manpower shortage. But tell me, Vincent - how is your current assignment coming along?" "As well as can be expected, Bob," replied Vincent, knowing that Dr. Sinclair insisted on this familiarity. "The subject's ex-wife has been convinced that he's holding out on his child support and has, as was planned, threatened him with legal action if he doesn't come up with the money. Even though our subject's still out of work, also as planned, she doesn't believe his story. I'd guess he'll be ready to reel in about a week to ten days." "That's excellent news, Vincent." "You know, Bob," said Vincent, "You and Clark really should consider hiring someone to sit outside in the reception area. I think a pretty girl for me to flirt with would be an excellent choice." Bob shook his head. "How many times have we been through this, Vincent. Neither Clark nor I feel we need anyone manning the reception desk. It'd be nothing more than a waste of project monies. Besides Clark and I always know whenever someone's waiting to see us. "Really? I didn't know that," smiled Vinnie, realizing he was about to score major points in his continuing argument for hiring a receptionist. "Then I suppose you already know you've got a couple of the boys outside waiting to see you, Bob? They told me they'd been waiting for over an hour and didn't even think you knew they were out there." "Oh shit! Phil and Larry!" exclaimed Dr. Sinclair. "I was so busy with Teyba that I totally forgot I'd sent for them." Bob looked at his watch. "Would you mind telling them to come to my office, Vincent?" "Sure thing, Bob," he replied. But as Vincent turned and headed for the door, Dr. Sinclair suddenly added, "One more thing, Vincent - keep an eye out for any potential receptionist candidates. I'll speak with Clark later today; I'm sure between the two of us we can figure out some way to work one into the budget." "Whatever you say, Bob." And it's about time, Vincent added silently. ***** "You can go right on in, boys," said Vincent as soon as he spotted Phil and Larry still nervously fidgeting in the same chairs in the reception area. "Bob's finally ready to see you; he said you could go straight to his office." Vincent watched as the two youngsters, now appearing even more nervous than they had just a moment before, entered the office area through the door behind the soon-to-be-filled reception desk. But he also figured the boys had a right to be nervous. They'd have been scared shitless, if he'd told them that Dr. Sinclair had also mentioned forgetting they were coming. They'd probably never forgive him for omitting that little detail, but it hardly mattered. The way things happened around ReGenesis, Vincent figured he wasn't going to see either of them anytime soon. And even if he saw them, there were no guarantees they'd even recognize each other. Vincent knew it was best to keep silent around ReGenesis; he'd thought everyone working here knew that. He was also glad he didn't work closely with Larry and Phil. People working in those secured habitats, where they often worked, had an unhealthy habit of being around one day and then never being seen again, especially after being summoned to one of the doctors' offices. Maybe, thought Vinnie as his mind wandered, Larry and Phil are the real reasons for the ox and the bull I saw earlier. ***** Although both boys were visibly nervous as they entered Dr. Sinclair's office, Phil, still unsure why he was here, seemed the more anxious of the pair. After seeing some of the things he'd seen here, he might not be overjoyed working at ReGenesis, but the pay was great - better than he'd likely get anywhere else - and, unlike Larry, he'd never once considered leaving. He also knew the company didn't like seeing people leave from its more sensitive areas. That was the biggest reason he'd told Dr. Sinclair about Larry wanting to leave. Only now, he was afraid he'd made a really big mistake. "Come on in, boys," smiled Dr. Sinclair. "Please, sit down." "Why are we here, Bob?" asked Larry. "It's been brought to my attention that you wish to leave our happy ReGenesis family of employees." He watched Larry turn and glare at Phil. "Is this true, Larry?" "Yes, sir," he replied nervously, hoping honesty would be his best course of action, since his friend Phil had obviously betrayed his confidence. "I'm not all that comfortable with all the strange and unusual things happening around here, Bob?" "And how about you, Phil?" asked Bob, turning towards the surprised young man. "Do you wish to leave our little family as well?" "Of course not, Bob," replied Phil, but without much conviction. "I want to continue working here. I don't want to leave. I really like my job and working here, Bob." "I'm certain you're both well aware of the binding non-disclosure agreement you signed when you started working here," said the doctor. "It prohibits you from divulging any information about anything you've seen, worked on, or heard about while working here - even after you terminate employment." "I certainly am, Bob," replied Larry. "Trust me; I'll never say a word to anyone about anything I've seen here. Besides, who'd believe me?" "I would never say again either," said Phil. "But I'm not even thinking about leaving, Bob." "I'll have the Human Resources people process your immediate termination, Larry." Bob shook a very surprised Larry's hand, then turned towards Phil. "I'll also send them a memo stating you may also leave, without any recriminations, whenever you want to leave just by sending them a memo, or even an email." Bob opened the lower drawer of his desk. From inside, he pulled out a bottle and three glasses. "How about a little something to drink?" he asked. "I hope you boys will enjoy a shot of Irish whiskey with me." "Sure, Bob," replied Larry, sounding very relieved. He wondered if things might not be as weird here as he'd always thought. "I suppose I can try a little," added Phil, also sounding relieved. "But I've never been much of a drinker." Bob poured about two fingers of the whiskey into each glass, then handed one to each of the young men. "I wish you good fortune in all your future endeavors, boys," said Bob, just before downing his whiskey with a single gulp. "Ah, this is really great stuff," he smiled. "Bottom's up, boys." Phil and Larry each downed their drinks in one swift single swallow, just as they'd seen Bob gulp his. But after several seconds of coughing and gagging, the watery-eyed boys, trying to stand up, suddenly passed out and fell back into their chairs. An ominous figure in a long flowing robe with a hood entered the room. "What are your impressions of them, druid?" Bob asked the hooded man. "Both boys have a strong desire to leave." He went to Larry's side. "This one will go directly to the newspapers with a full story of what is done here almost as soon as he's out of the door. But most will not believe what they will consider his fantasies - but it only takes one believer to cause trouble." "I was afraid that might be the case with him," said Bob sounding very disappointed. "And what about Phil?" The druid stepped to Phil's side. "This one is very frightened now. But his fears have always kept him loyal. However, once he learns of his friend's disappearance, loyalty to his friend will overcome his fear. He too will opt to tell outsiders what happens here. But it shall take many years before someone believes his tales." "Then it appears we have no other choice," sighed Bob. "I'd hoped we wouldn't have to do this, but we must exercise the non-disclosure spell." "I too see no other choice, Bob," said the druid without emotion. The doctor's office door suddenly swung open with no one having knocked. The antlered man entered, as Bob looked up. "Teyba. I was just going to send for you. These two," he said indicating Phil and Larry, "are to be relocated to that habitat we discussed earlier this evening. And once there, they're to be suitably transformed to fit in with its other inhabitants." Teyba bowed his head, but said nothing. Instead, he motioned for someone standing behind the door to enter. Two huge hulking men entered. "Me Moose," said one of the large behemoths. "You no Moose, me Moose," objected the other. "You Bull." "No, me Moose," countered the first. "You Ox." Teyba shook his head. Putting one of his hands on a shoulder of one of the hulks, he said simply, "Bull." To the other one, after repeating his earlier actions, he said only, "Ox." "Me Bull now," said the hulk Teyba had named as such. "And me now Ox," said the other. Both of the huge men seemed very pleased with themselves. As Teyba turned and looked at Dr. Sinclair, he simply shrugged his shoulders. There just hadn't been very much to work with. Dr. Sinclair looked the heavyset pair over with obvious disgust. These two won't be overly useful unless under the strictest supervision. He wondered what had gone wrong this time - he'd certainly expected them to exhibit more intelligence than this. But as long as they were there, he might as well put their bulging muscles to good use. "Bull, pick up this boy." He turned to Ox. "Ox, pick up this boy." After both of the hulking former beasts had done as they were told, Dr. Sinclair gave them additional instructions. "Ox. Bull. Follow Teyba. Do whatever he tells you to do." And obediently they looked to Teyba for further instructions. Dr. Sinclair frowned as he watched the two hulks, walking slowly behind Teyba's lead, easily carry off the two boys. "There's not a whole lot of intelligence between them, but they'll probably work out well as simple beasts of burden. Oh well," sighed Bob. "I wonder what went wrong. I guess its back to the drawing board." ***** Still wondering who he might find to fill the new receptionist position and whether or not the eventual girl selected would like him, Vinnie wandered aimlessly in the general direction of "Bart's Downwind Bar". According the company scuttlebutt he'd heard, Bart's was one of the favorite hangouts for the employees of ReGenesis, Inc. And yet, in spite of all that talk, Vinnie had seldom seen many of his fellow employees in the bar. He'd seen Phil and Larry here a few times. Being single guys, they were always hitting on the waitresses without much success. But thinking about them only served as a reminder that he wasn't very likely to see them here, or anywhere else, again. One of the waitresses, who had since left the "Downwind", had also told him once that Dr. Marlika Warners often came into the bar. She came to pick up dates, which she claimed might be either male or female. Vinnie had been surprised when he'd heard that story; he'd always assumed the waitress had confused Marlika with someone else. On the other hand, there had never been any questions in Vincent's mind about Marlika Warners being an odd one; she was easily odder than the resident pair of mad doctors, Sinclair and Lewiston. But Marlika Warners was also one hell of a sexy babe. He never seriously considered that such a total fox might be a lesbian until that night he saw her leaving with another pretty young woman in tow. But he'd never once seen her leave with a man. Maybe that was why Vincent had been so surprised tonight. Just as he'd arrived at the bar, he saw one of his longtime drinking buddies, Charlie Hooper, leaving in the tow of Marlika Warners. With that inky black wig covering her red hair, Vinnie almost didn't recognize her. But with this attempt at disguising herself, he wondered how many nights he might have failed to recognize her before. And yet, Vinnie idly wondered what Marlika saw in Charlie Hooper. He wasn't very smart. He had a huge beer belly. And he certainly wasn't much to look at - he'd always kidded Susie about her unusual taste in boyfriends. Not only that, but most of those women Vinnie had seen leaving with the doctor had been stunning knockouts with supermodel potential. What could Marlika possibly see in someone like Charlie? However, in spite of all the rumors he'd heard and everything he'd seen, Vinnie had always considered it horribly unfair to men in general that such a gorgeous babe like Marlika Warners was a lesbian. But now, if she could be attracted to someone like Charlie, no matter how inconceivable it seemed to him, then maybe he still had a chance to get a little of her action. "Fat chance," he muttered. "It must be an aberration." "Hi Charlie. How's it going," said Vinnie as they passed. But Charlie said nothing. He just followed Marlika as if he hadn't heard a single word Vinnie had said. "I guess I can't blame him," Vinnie muttered to himself. "I wouldn't speak to me either, if I were leaving with her. But still... Charlie and Marlika?" Vinnie had known that Charlie and Susie had had another fight a couple of days ago and broken up again. But his leaving with Marlika this way wasn't like his old buddy. Just the other night, as he and Vincent had sat together at the bar, all he'd talked about was getting back together with Susie. Once inside the "Downwind", Vinnie took a quick look around the bar. There weren't many customers present. He was also surprised that Susie wasn't working; Susie was always here. He asked the bartender, "Where's Susie tonight?" Bart gave him one of those funny looks that told him to mind his own business, then replied, "She wasn't feeling very good, Vinnie. Personally, I think it was a little too much of that black-haired bitch. So I told her to go home and get some rest. Besides, it really looks like I'm going to be overstaffed tonight; I'm breaking in a couple of new girls tonight and it looks as if it's going to be another really slow night." That's just great, thought Vinnie. If no one comes in here tonight, how am I supposed to find our new receptionist? "Do you want your usual tonight, Vinnie?" asked Bart. "I guess, Bart," replied Vincent. "I'll take it at one of the booths in the back." Shortly after sitting down in the booth that would allow him to watch the front entrance, one of the new waitresses Vinnie hadn't seen before brought his one hundred proof whiskey to the table. The tag on her uniform said simply "Shelley". He wasn't sure why the Downwind had such a high rate of turnover of late - he'd always heard Bart was a great guy to work for - but there always seemed to be another pretty new girl waiting tables whenever he came in. "Thanks, Shelley," he mumbled. Shelley gave him a little smile in return, but said nothing. She then turned and casually strolled back to the bar. She's got a really nice ass, thought Vincent, as he sat back intent on observing and evaluating everyone entering the bar. She's kind of on the young side, but I wonder if she's available. But as Bart had told him as he'd entered earlier, tonight was quickly shaping up as a really slow night. As Vinnie watched each new patron enter the bar, he couldn't remember if he'd ever seen a slower night anywhere. It wouldn't take many nights like this one to put Bart out of business. As the night interminably wore on, Vincent became convinced he wouldn't find a likely candidate for the new receptionist position. But he decided to wait until closing time, just in case someone came in. He'd return again tomorrow after work. Hopefully, the Downwind would be seeing a lot more action. When a man in his mid-thirties entered a few minutes later, Vinnie heard a few groans from the older waitresses, as well as some mumbled verbiage from Bart. Although there were only a handful of patrons in the bar, Vinnie was surprised when all of them simply stood up and left. The man smiled as he casually watched them leave, then looked around the newly deserted bar with a satisfied grin. He looked a little surprised when he saw Vinnie, but, with some obvious purpose in his mind, he quickly made his way to the back booth where Vinnie sat. "Good evening, sir," said the man pleasantly. Vinnie looked up and decided, without really knowing why, he didn't like this man. "Is it?" "Of course it's a good evening, sir," replied the man. "But can you tell me, sir, why are you sitting here and imbibing of the devil's rum?" Vincent smiled. He's one of them, he thought. If he's been coming around here regularly, it was no wonder things have been slow around here. "I'm not. This is whiskey, not rum; I hate rum." "Whiskey. Or rum. Neither makes any difference, sir. Alcohol in whatever form it takes is the devil's own brew." "And I suppose you'd like me to quit drinking?" "You should quit at once, sir. You've already strayed far from the righteous path." Vinnie stared contemptuously at the man. "I suppose you want me to be just like you?" A contemptible asshole, he added to himself. "Would that be so bad, sir?" he asked with a disturbing grin. "There are worse things in this world then being just like me." You're bad enough, but I've seen many things even worse than you, thought Vinnie. "You just have no idea how true that is," he smiled. "Then, might I assume, you've seen the error of your ways, sir?" "You may not. I like my ways just the way they are," replied Vinnie. "But I'll tell you what... what did you say your name was?" "Albert, sir. My name is Albert Teller, he beamed, certain he was well on his way to making a new convert for his cause. "Let me buy you a drink, Albert," said Vinnie. "And then we'll discuss what you obviously consider my wicked ways." Albert looked offended by the offer. "I won't partake of any brew of the devil," he insisted. "Drink whatever you want, Albert," replied Vinnie. "I would never dream of telling you what's best for you; you're the best judge of that." Vinnie smiled. "What'll it be, Albert?" "I'd like some goat's milk." Albert was certain there'd be no goat's milk in any place that served the devil's brew with such impunity. Vinnie looked over towards Bart. "You got any goat's milk, Bart?" Bart smiled back at Vincent. "I doubt you'll believe this, Vinnie, but I've got a couple of gallons just sitting in the fridge in the back room. The doctor keeps telling me it's good for my ulcer." Bart went into the back, but returned a few moments later carrying a tall glass of milk in his hand. After setting it down in front of Albert, he smiled and said, without much conviction, "I hope you enjoy your goat's milk, Mr. Teller." But after getting no response from Albert, Bart returned to his place behind the bar. Albert cautiously tasted the milk. "This really is goat's milk." He sounded surprised. "You should try this, sir; it's very definitely heaven's own ambrosia." "No thanks. Would you mind telling me something, Albert? Just why do you want everyone in the world to be just like you? Having more than one of same person around in the same place and at the same time seems rather silly to me." "It's because I know what makes me happy, sir. And I want everyone to be as happy as me," replied Albert with a knowing, albeit very annoying, grin. "No one can possibly be happy drinking any of these devilish brews, because I know I could never be happy drinking something so foul." "But I like drinking whiskey," replied Vinnie. "Are you even remotely aware that different things make different people happy. Something that makes you happy won't necessarily make me happy, and vice versa." "That's not true at all, sir," argued Albert. "All of the people in the world would be much happier if they all thought the same way, acted the same way, and liked and disliked the same things. I'm the perfect example of that, sir." Albert took another sip of his milk. "I just know for an absolute fact you'd be a much happier person if you drank goat's milk just as I do, sir." "I really doubt that, Albert. I really think having one of me running around is quite enough for the world. Don't you see? If there were two of me, there would be one too many. And things would get much worse if there were more of me." Vinnie smiled. "In fact, I'm beginning to think that the one of you may actually be two or three too many of you, Albert." Albert looked puzzled by Vincent's words. It almost seemed as if no one had ever argued with him before. Vinnie figured most people had probably either ignored him totally or walked away from this self-righteous little twit before today. "I think I need to go to the little boys' room." Albert slowly stood up, then walked, in a confused daze, in the general direction of the sign marked "Restrooms". As soon as the men's room door had closed behind Albert, Bart hurried over to the booth. "What are you doing, Vinnie? I've been trying to get rid of that irritating pest for the last week; he's killing my business with all this temperance crap of his. "Don't worry, Bart. I figured he was the reason for your slower than average nights as soon as he opened his mouth. By the time we finish our little discussion, I doubt this holier-than-thou little shit will be coming back here." And even if he does, Vinnie silently added, I doubt you'll recognize him. "I sure hope you know what you're doing, Vinnie." Bart returned to his place behind the bar again, then said a few encouraging words to his waitresses. No one noticed Vinnie empty the contents of a small packet into the rest of Albert's goat milk. Even if they had seen what he'd done, Vinnie guessed none of them would say anything; nobody ever seemed to care when annoying people like Albert got wasted. When Albert finally returned to the booth, he was frowning. "I'm afraid I must leave now, sir. I've already spent more time here then I had intended." Not in the least surprised at this development, Vinnie smiled. "Why don't you finish your goat's milk before you leave, Albert," suggested Vinnie. "You wouldn't want to be a wasteful person. There are far too many people in the world that don't have any of your material advantages; it'd be a real sin to be so wasteful with so much rampant hunger in the world. I'm certain you would never want to be a wasteful sinner, Albert. Or would you?" Albert suddenly looked more distressed than at anytime he'd been arguing with Vincent. "You're absolutely right, sir. I would never forgive myself if I became a sinner of any kind." He lifted his glass and then chugged its contents. "Now, sir, I'm afraid I really must be on my way." Albert shook his head. "I feel quite peculiar all of a sudden." That's quite understandable, thought Vinnie. "Why don't you sit down, Albert?" And Albert obediently did as he'd been asked to do. That's really good stuff thought Vinnie, taking his small pad of paper from his shirt pocket. After scribbling several things quickly on both sides of one of its pages, Vinnie tore out the page and handed it to Albert. "I want you to go to this address immediately, Albert. And once you're there, give them this note and tell them Vinnie sent you. They'll do everything else. Do you understand me, Albert?" "Yes, Vinnie, I understand," he replied mechanically. Without saying another word, Albert stood up and headed slowly towards the door. Bart and his waitresses let out a loud cheer as Albert walked through the door. Shelley came over and gave him a long deep kiss. As the kiss ended, she smiled at Vinnie, then picked up his notepad and quickly scribbled her name and phone number on one of its blank pages. "Call me sometime," she smiled. "Please, make it real soon, Vinnie." "Everything's on the house for you tonight, Vinnie," said Bart. "Thanks, Bart. I just hope everything gets back to normal around here real soon." "It should, now that he's gone. You're sure he's not coming back?" "Absolutely positive, Bart," replied Vinnie. "I can guarantee that you'll never see Albert Teller's face in the Downwind again." ***** After several unproductive hours seemed to pass, no new customers had entered the Downwind. Overly obnoxious people like Albert never took very long to chase people, even longtime patrons, away, but it was generally pure hell waiting for them to return again. But with only fifteen minutes remaining before closing time, the door finally opened. Vincent watched a man, who was probably close to forty, one side or the other, in a wheelchair roll in. "You've got about fifteen minutes before closing time, mister," said Bart. "That should be about right," replied the man. "I'm sure I can polish off a drink or two in the next fifteen minutes. Give me a double shot of scotch, neat." Bart quickly served his new customer, who, after taking a sip of his scotch, rolled over to one of the tables. Vinnie stood up - it'd been a long uneventful night - and slowly walked over to the man's table. "Would it bother you an awful lot if I asked what happened to you?" asked Vinnie curiously. "No. Not at all," replied the man, his expression remained unchanged. "It's been a long time since anyone even wanted to hear my sad story. I guess everyone just got tired of hearing it over and over again. But the ending never changed no matter how many times I told it. It was years ago. There was an accident out on the highway. A drunk driver swerved over the double yellow line and struck the car I was driving head on. My wife... and both my kids... were killed... almost instantly. I wasn't so fortunate; my legs were crushed. And the goddamn drunk walked away without a scratch. Hell, he doesn't even remember what he did that night. How could I even get even with him? Aside from what he's been told, he'd never know why I was doing anything I did to him." The man paused to compose himself. "I was never much of a drinker before the accident, but sometimes I just need a drink or two to kill the pain. And if it also deadens my thought processes for a while at the same time, then that's so much the better for me." "Maybe I can help you out." "That's not very likely, mister. The foremost experts in the field have consistently told me I'll never walk again. A couple of them were surprised I'd even survived the accident; there are times I wish I hadn't. Did you know that once I was an Olympic caliber swimmer? I had gold medal aspirations once, but now I'm little more than a rolling doorstop. If none of these learned experts think I can be helped, I find it highly doubtful some stranger I've run across in some little out of the way dive can be of much help to me." "In any given situation, I've often found you never really know who can be helpful until after they've helped you," replied Vincent, who found himself inexplicably liking this poor unfortunate man. For some reason, he wanted to give this man whatever help he could. "The people I work for are well-known for almost working miracles." At least to those of us who work there, he added to himself. "It'd take more than an almost-miracle, mister." "Why don't you just stop by and talk to the doctors sometime tomorrow," suggested Vincent. "It can't hurt just asking them if they can do something to help." "Maybe. Maybe not," replied the man. "But I've been disappointed enough for one lifetime." "You need to think positive. You might be pleasantly surprised." The man looked at Vincent dubiously. "I no longer think that's possible anymore." Undaunted, Vinnie scribbled something down in his note pad, then tore out the page and handed it to the man. "My name's Vinnie Martensen. Take this to the address I've written on it. They'll check you out, probably run a few tests, and if there's anything that can be done for you, then they'll do it." The man stared at what was written on the note. After a few moments of studying it, he turned his gaze directly at Vincent. "Why are you doing this?" he asked, his voice full of suspicion. "I just want to help. Consider this my good deed for the day," replied Vinnie. "It seems to me you deserve a break for once in your life." The man obviously wasn't very satisfied with that answer. "What do you get out of all this?" he asked suspiciously. "Absolutely nothing." The man still looked dubious, but he surprised Vinnie by shoving the note into his shirt pocket. "I'll take your address with me and think about it. But I won't promise I'll show up." "It's your life..." "Mark," replied the man. "Mark Harrison." He extended his hand to Vinnie. "It's just about closing time, boys," announced Bart, as Vinnie shook Mark's hand. Vinnie sighed as he watched Mark leave. He'd hoped to find at least one potential receptionist candidate tonight. And he might have if it hadn't been for Albert chasing everybody off. "Oh well, tomorrow's another day," he mumbled. But as Vincent walked toward the door, he unexpectedly bumped into Shelley. He didn't know why he hadn't thought about asking her earlier; he wondered if this pretty waitress might be interested in changing jobs. ***** Marlika examined Charlie carefully as the man she'd picked up in the bar lay naked and perfectly still in her bathtub. He was exactly as she'd left him earlier. She'd had so many disappointments with the girls she'd brought home recently, that she'd decided - already knowing that males and females reacted somewhat differently to her serum - to try something a little different. However, just in case his body still dissolved into protoplasmic goop like all the others, either male or female, she'd also decided to conduct this experiment in her bathtub. It would easier - not to mention a lot cheaper - washing his remains down the drain of her tub, instead of calling someone to clean the organic residue out of her carpets again. As soon as she saw him, Marlika had determined Charlie would be just perfect for this experiment. Marlika had also thought that with each of the last two girls she'd brought home from the Downwind. But she was now certain her experimental transformation serum, interpolated from the writings in those recently discovered ancient arcane tomes she was only supposed to have very limited access to, should work perfectly this time. According to her own newly revised theories, there were no lingering doubts in her mind about her serum; this time it would work exactly as she theorized it should. However, she'd also thought the same thing after each of the previous revisions. And she'd still wound up with large, nearly instant, puddles of goo. Dr. Warners' main theory implied that this ancient magic was actually nothing more than an extension of an older advanced science. Now if she could only prove it. Marlika opened a small unlabeled prescription bottle and removed a couple of blue colored pills. The pills were the newest additions to her evolving procedure, but if they functioned as she expected they would - keeping Charlie from becoming another large and useless pool of protoplasm - she'd incorporate their functionality into her serum. "This would be a lot easier if you were still awake, Charlie." He mumbled something incoherently as the doctor pushed the two pills into his mouth. She was then pleasantly surprised when Charlie quickly swallowed the pills as soon as the water in the glass touched his lips. Finally, she filled the syringe with her newest batch of transformation serum. After dabbing Charlie's arm with a cotton swab, she injected its contents into his arm. After setting the emptied syringe down on the counter, Marlika sat back, waiting for something positive to develop. ***** Phil and Larry awoke at nearly the same instant. As they turned their heads and looked around, it was readily obvious they were no longer in Dr. Sinclair's office. They were lying naked on the ground. And they'd apparently been sleeping off whatever the doctor had slipped into their drinks in this grassy clearing amidst several large trees. Neither Phil nor Larry knew exactly where they were, but each of them had a good idea. As they still lay on the ground, Phil turned toward Larry. "We're in one of the habitats, Larry." "I figured as much. But do you have any idea which one?" "I don't know for sure. A lot of the habitats I've been working in lately are lightly wooded just like this, but I don't recognize this one at all." "I don't recognize it either." Larry paused, unsure he wanted to ask the next question. "What do you think they're going to change us into, Phil?" "I don't really know, Larry. But as a guess, I'd say we're going to become whatever lives here." He looked across at Larry. "But you don't look any different to me." "You don't look any different either." Larry sounded slightly relieved. "Maybe they're just trying to scare us." "I think they're doing damn good job of that, Phil." "Why'd they take our clothes?" asked Larry, self-conscious about his nakedness. "Isn't it obvious? Clothes aren't necessary here. Whatever lives here doesn't wear clothes." "We're going to become some kind of animal," whined Larry fearfully. "Aren't we?" "I doubt it," replied Phil. "Dr. Sinclair isn't the one that generally does the animal transforms." "But what if there are girls living here? I don't want any strange girls seeing me naked." "Why not? It's about time you got laid." "Maybe we should get up and look around," suggested Larry. "Do you think they're outside the glass watching us?" "I'd be really surprised if they weren't," replied Phil. "These people are really weird. They seem to get their jollies by watching people like us change into other things." As both boys stood up, they carefully surveyed all they could see. In the distance, they spotted an odd looking large stone table. As they began wondering what it was and what it could possibly be used for, each of them took a small step towards it. "I feel really funny all of a sudden," said Phil. "Me too," said Larry, shaking his head. "I feel kinda dizzy." As Phil raised his hand in front of his face, he stared at his new slender fingers in stunned disbelief. Suddenly, Larry felt his hair grow out. Unbelievably, his hair quickly flowed over the tops of his bare shoulders. As he clutched a handful of the new growth and pulled, he was surprised to find the hair firmly attached to his scalp. They turned towards each other. "Are you feeling all right, Larry. You suddenly look kinda green." "So do you, Phil." "Larry!" exclaimed Phil. "You're growing tits now." "So are you, Phil - and they're getting really big." Larry stared at Phil's enlarging breasts. And now your skin and hair is turning even greener." "You're already a nice pale shade of green, Larry." Phil stared at his friend. "You know something... that color really looks good on you." "You wanna know something else, Phil?" Larry cautiously felt his own large new breasts. "I've never seen a girl with tits as large as yours." "Neither have I, Larry," said Phil, cupping his mammoth new mammaries in awe. "But your own tits must now be as large as mine." Suddenly, each of them had the same instinctive, but impossibly wild, thought. As each boy's hand shot down to their respective crotches, their eyes opened wide in stunned amazement. "It's gone," they both whispered. "You've become a green girl," each of them told the other nearly simultaneously. And as their exploring hands roamed over the soft curves of their definitely transformed into female bodies, they also came to another conclusion. "They've changed us into green girls." "But they said they'd let me leave," pouted Larry. "Something tells me," Phil replied, as he once again cupped one of his large breasts, "that we shouldn't have believed them." "No kidding. But if it's any consolation, you're really pretty and at least we still think like us," said Larry. "Or are you planning to run off with the next man you see?" "Hardly," smiled Phil. "But I think you're just as pretty as me, Larry. And none of that will stop me from giving those two crazy doctors hell the next time I see them." He placed his hands on his widened hips. "I'm going to make them really sorry they transformed us into pretty green girls with big green boobies and fuzzy green damp pussies." Suddenly, they heard approaching female laughter... actually it sounded more like the giggling of teenaged girls. And it kept getting louder. Phil and Larry were both surprised when the gigglers, two apparently teenage girls with green hair and green complexions remarkably similar to their own, entered the clearing. "Oh shoot," said one of the new arrivals sounding extremely disappointed. "They aren't men; they're just like us, Telesto." "This isn't really fair, Callisto. When the others told me we'd be having visitors today," replied Telesto, sounding very irritated, "I thought they meant they'd be sending us men. Or at the very least that one of them would be a man. Why don't they ever send us some men, Callisto." "I don't know, Telesto. I guess they just don't realize how horny we dryads get in here all by ourselves. It's a good thing you're here with me, Telesto." Telesto and Callisto began giggling again. "This place would be worse than hell if there was only one of us here all alone," said Telesto. She turned and smiled warmly at the two newcomers. "Hi," she giggled. "Do you think they'd like to join us? I'm sure we can all have a little fun together," tittered Callisto. "How about it? Do you want to play with us?" giggled Telesto. Phil and Larry exchanged worried glances. "Just what do you mean 'play with you'?" asked Phil. "Wow!" Telesto sighed. "I guess there must be lots of men wherever you come from if you don't know how to play with your sister dryads." "We're really sorry you have to be stuck in this place with only us for company now," added Callisto. "This place is really shitty, you know," said Telesto. "There aren't any men here to play with at all." "So we have to make do with each other until the others decide to send us some men of our very own. I really wish they'd hurry up though." Callisto looked at Telesto and both of them giggled again. "Make do?" asked Larry. "With each other?" questioned Phil. "Just the two of you?" "There's another one of us somewhere, but we think she's mad at us or something for some silly reason. We haven't seen her in a few days. I really miss her." "So do I, Telesto, but she's not who's important right now." Callisto smiled at Phil and Larry mischievously. "I guess we'll have to show you how we have fun together. It wouldn't be very nice of us to leave you out while we're having our fun." Callisto kissed Telesto on the lips and the aroused Telesto quickly replied in kind. Even as Phil and Larry watched them in rapt fascination, the stimulation provided by the other dryads made their own newly transformed bodies respond just as readily. "That was really nice," tittered Telesto as their kiss ended, "but it'd still be much better with some males." "I know," Callisto sighed, before leaning down and kissing one of Telesto's bountiful bare breasts. As she slid her mouth over Telesto's erect nipple and began to suckle gently, Telesto moaned softly. When Callisto had finished with Telesto, the dryads quickly exchanged places. In no time at all Telesto was sucking just as greedily on Callisto's equally ample breast as she had been on hers. Phil and Larry watched in fascination. They were unable to take their eyes away from the amorous activities of the nubile dryads. But even while they continued staring intently at them, their own bodies were also becoming increasingly more aroused. To their complete surprise, each of them soon found themselves gently caressing their own new breasts absently. To their even greater surprise, they also realized their bodies were not only responding positively to the green girls' amorous display, but they were also itching to get their own piece of the dryads' erotic action. Both of the transformed boys, as if it were perfectly natural for them, felt strongly attracted towards these strange exotic green girls. Their new nipples were erect. In addition, their equally new pussies were wet and getting wetter. And when Callisto and Telesto suddenly turned their sensual attentions to Phil and Larry with impassioned kisses, the former boys couldn't respond quickly enough to satisfy their bodies' building desires. Callisto and Telesto giggled as they stepped back from the former boys they'd simply considered their sister dryads. But just as if they'd always been dryads themselves, the former boys stared hungrily at Telesto and Callisto's breasts. Amidst their titters and giggles, the two jade colored girls swayed sensuously over to the newcomers. As they stood before the transformed boys, they let them suckle on their mammoth mammaries just as they'd shown both of them earlier. And then, as was inevitable whenever two or more aroused dryads, who'd been bereft of male companionship for more then a few minutes, gathered, an orgy quickly ensued. Whether it was minutes or hours or days later, their senses finally returned to what passed for normal among their kind. None of them knew how much time had passed, but, since the passage of time had never been overly important, they really didn't care. "Wasn't that lots of fun?" asked Telesto. "Will you stay with us?" asked Callisto. "You really are lots of fun." "We'll help you both find trees of your own," said Telesto trying to be helpful. "You'll need one soon, but there are plenty of available ones here." "What should we call you?" asked Callisto. The two newcomers looked at each other nervously. "I'm Phil." "And my name's Larry." Telesto and Callisto tittered again. "Those are really silly names," giggled Telesto. "They just don't fit you at all," snickered Callisto. "We'll have to think up some better names to call you." "What's wrong with our names?" asked Phil. Suddenly, his hand shot to his forehead; he felt very dizzy again. As he looked over at Larry, he saw that his friend was in similar distress. "Don't you worry now," smiled Telesto. "You'll be all right in just a few minutes," added Callisto. "We know exactly what to do." Telesto and Callisto quickly led the newcomers over to two nearby large oak trees. "These will be very nice trees for you," they said in unison. "Put both of your hands on the tree in front of you." Not knowing how this would help them feel better, Larry and Phil nevertheless quickly complied with Callisto's strange request. "Now let your minds go blank." And as Larry and Phil complied with what Telesto had just told them - it was far easier than either of them would have ever imagined - they suddenly felt odd and peculiar, yet pleasingly sensual, sensations coursing throughout their bodies as they merged, then bonded, with the stately oaks. "Wow!" echoed both of them when they rematerialized outside their new trees again. Just as Telesto and Callisto had expected, their new dryad sisters had been fully reenergized following their just completed bonding with their new trees. "See, I told you everything would be okay," giggled Callisto. "But I've also forgotten those silly names of yours," sniggered Telesto. "Please tell them to me again, so we can pick out better names for you." "I'm Phoebe," said the dryad who had once been male and named Phil. She began to giggle, as was normal for dryads. She wasn't exactly certain when she'd been given that name, but it didn't really matter when it had been, since she knew Phoebe had always been her name. "And my name's Leda," tittered the former Larry. For the briefest of moments, her name echoed strangely in her ears, but, as she'd always known who she'd always been, the strange sound of her name couldn't be all that important and was promptly forgotten. "Those names aren't silly," said Callisto. "Those are really nice names; they're just perfect for you," added Telesto, never once realizing these names were any different from the names she'd considered silly a few minutes earlier. "Welcome home, Phoebe and Leda." Callisto began to giggle. And then, as if giggling were some wildly contagious disease, the other three dryads uncontrollably joined in. Their laughter quickly increased, when Phoebe innocently asked the others, "When do you think the others will send us some males? Our earlier orgy was lots of fun, but playing with you is just not the same as having my very own man to play with." "I know exactly what you mean," said Leda. "Right now, I'm feeling really hot and incredibly horny. I'm so horny I'd almost bet I could fuck a satyr senseless." "But until the others decide to send us one," said Phoebe, "why don't all of us just have a lot more fun together. Why don't we all play with each other some more?" "Okay," giggled the other three dryads in total agreement. And, as they always enjoyed having fun with each other, their new orgy immediately commenced. "Okay," giggled the other three in total agreement, their new orgy having immediately commenced. ***** Drs. Sinclair and Warners watched from behind the two-way glass as the four dryads resumed their earlier libidinous activities with a newly reinvigorated gusto. Swapping partners so quickly and appearing so similar to one another, both doctors quickly lost track of which two had been Phil and Larry only a few short hours earlier. "They appear to have adapted completely to their new selves, Bob. And it happened even quicker then we calculated their adjustments would take." "So it would seem, Marlika." "They also seem to enjoy each other equally. There's no jealousy apparent among them. The two older dryads treat the two newer ones exactly the same as they treat each other; I can't really tell which is which any longer." Marlika looked at Bob. "Putting a male among them might totally disrupt that harmony, Bob." As if trying to guess his thoughts, she stared at the head of this project. "When do you intend slipping a male in among them? It might be an interesting experiment to see how long, if very long at all, any man could survive one of their energetic and mindless orgies." "All in good time, Marlika," grinned Dr. Sinclair. "Clark and I were thinking we'd like to increase our number of viable dryads first. Only then would we introduce a male into the mix." Bob's smile suddenly grew wider. "Perhaps, if we can find a suitable subject," mused Bob, "we might even consider using an insatiable satyr, just as our new Leda has so helpfully suggested." The doctor looked about the habitat. "I wonder where the other dryad is hiding?" "The others said she was mad at them," replied Marlika. "I wonder why?" "I would have never thought it possible dryads could be angry with other dryads," said Bob. "But I doubt whatever she's mad about isn't overly important. She'll probably turn up soon enough and they'll probably hold another orgy to celebrate her return. I doubt any of these dryads have the attention span to stay angry at anyone very long." "Perhaps. But I also have a theory or two of my own I'd like to work on, Bob," she said, wondering how her newest experiment at home was proceeding in her absence. "It would be a lot of help, if you would authorize me for my own research lab." "Maybe in a few months, Marlika," said Bob. You must realize Clark and I are still deciphering the contents of that mystic ancient tome we discovered. But why don't you attend our next project meeting. We can discuss your theories then." At last, thought Marlika. Even though she'd been denied full access to the ancient mystic tome, she was certain the two older doctors would be impressed with what she'd done so far. No staff member, as far as she knew, had even theorized about the true connection she'd discovered existing between this old magic and their science. She was also certain that Charlie, once he eventually changed forms, would be an eye-opening experience for her staid colleagues. ***** Marlika nervously paced back and forth. It had been a whole day and then some since she'd injected Charlie with her latest serum and he still hadn't changed. In fact, he was still in the same position he'd been in when she'd left for work this morning. Having watched those two troublemakers become perfectly contented, although somewhat simple and single-minded, nymphs, had convinced her she needed a rousing success if she was to have any hope of obtaining funding for her research from those two narrow minded doctors. But at least the new pills she'd developed had obviously solved one of her pressing problems. Charlie might not have changed, but at least he hadn't become a mass of disassociated protoplasmic goop in less than a minute following the serum's injection. "Why haven't you changed yet, Charlie? What new problem have I now encountered?" As if attempting to answer to her questions, an almost inaudible moan escaped from Charlie's lips. "It's about fucking time!" she exclaimed, sounding both relieved and excited. But after standing around watching Charlie and waiting for his imminent transformation to begin for nearly an hour, nothing else had happened. "You haven't died on me; have you, Charlie?" She leaned over and found Charlie's pulse, but it was strong and regular. "This is getting fucking ridiculous. I haven't got all night, you know," she snarled angrily. "Why don't you hurry up and start changing, Charlie?" Marlika angrily stormed out of the bathroom, heading for the kitchen. "I think I need a good stiff drink," she muttered along the way. ***** Albert Teller woke up to the soothing sounds of the nearby babbling stream. For several minutes, he just laid quietly where he was simply taking in all those wonderful sounds around him. When he finally decided to open his eyes, he had no idea where he was, how he'd arrived wherever he was, or even what time it was. Quite clearly he was outside somewhere. But where? And it was now just as obviously daytime. But how? None of this was possible. Albert knew he was no sinful partaker of any devilish brew. But there was just no logical way he could explain his lack of memory about where he was or how he'd got wherever he was. Not only that, but several hours had also obviously passed without his knowledge. However, as he slowly looked around his unfamiliar surroundings, something about the way his body moved seemed somehow very peculiar to him. Don't I already have enough mysteries to solve without adding another one, he thought? And yet, the increasingly strange way he felt was very unnerving. He wondered, what's wrong with me? But as Albert sat up to take a better look around, he was surprised to feel long hair draping over his shoulders. After grabbing a handful of the reddest hair he'd ever seen, he pulled on it. "Ow!" he yelled, surprised to discover it was securely attached. "What hellish trick of the devil is this?" he asked aloud, then grasped his throat at the strange higher-pitched sound of his voice. And just as impossibly, his skin felt quite soft and smooth to his touch. But before he could even react to his skin's new suppleness, he stared at his long slender fingers on his dainty hand in disbelief. As he quickly rose to his feet, Albert's mind was once again assaulted by the totally impossible; he now had twin weights hanging from his chest. "This just can't be possible," he mumbled, but hearing the sound of his high-pitched voice made him clutch at his throat again. As his hand explored the new weights on his chest, his eyes bulged still wider with stunned surprise and total disbelief. "Some devil at that bar last night must have cursed me. Somehow whatever demon was there gave me these female breasts." "It was not done at the bar," replied a gruff voice from the shadows. "And your demon's done much more than that. If you will continue your self-examination, you'll find your new large breasts are not the only part of your anatomy that's now female." Without consciously thinking about what he was doing, Albert's hand immediately shot down to his crotch. Even beneath the loose fitting, flowing white toga he was now wearing, he could tell that all the parts of his body that defined him as a man were now missing. And yet, Albert wasn't entirely certain what he now felt down there. He'd always considered touching a woman's private parts horribly sinful; was it still sinful if they were his? However, without really knowing how, he knew what had once made him male had now been fully replaced with something that very obviously made him female. "What have you done to me, you soulless devil?" he asked the possessor of the gruff voice. He shook his head, still surprised, first by his airy soprano voice and then by the feel of his long hair swishing across his shoulders. "I've done nothing to you. You are exactly as I found you." The possessor of the gruff voice stepped forward where Albert could see him. "However, from what I see in your mind, your appearance has been greatly improved. Even though you are now a naiad, you are also quite beautiful." Albert gasped. "What kind of horrific devil's spawn are you?" he asked fearfully. "I am one of those beings known to humans as a centaur. Despite what you believe, I am not some offspring of one of their insignificant and minor demons." "But you're not real; you just can't be," stated Albert. "How can you possibly have an immortal soul? You're not even human." The centaur glared at Albert, then smiled cryptically. "I'm as real as you are, naiad. And my soul is every bit as good as your own. But then, neither are you human any longer, little water nymph. I'm sure you'll soon discover that being human is an overrated condition. But regardless of anything else, I'm surprised you've remained such a bigoted little bitch." The centaur carefully scrutinized the naiad form standing before him. He smiled again. "I now understand why you're here, naiad - without even knowing it, Vincent has done well." "Vincent?" asked Albert. And then he remembered. "This is all that Vinnie's doing somehow." "You are brighter than you appear to be, but only in part is Vincent responsible," replied the centaur. "I am called Tark by everyone in this place. Those who caused your previous male form to be transformed into this more pleasing shape expect alterations in your mind to match. However, they have not yet realized that a naiad's mind must remain more complicated than that of a simple dryad. Even the humans have had no problems creating airheads." "What are you talking about?" asked Albert. "Mostly inconsequential things, as far as you are concerned, little one. Inevitably, given sufficient time, your mind shall totally accept and become one with your new form," replied Tark, "but these humans are always impatient; they will be disappointed by its slowness." "You're crazy!" replied Albert. "You're must be the spawn of the devil!" "And yet, given these totally unacceptable attitudes of yours, little water bitch, I am of a mind to assist them this one time," said Tark. "Although they may not appreciate the results of my intervention, I shall accelerate the matching of your mind with your body." "What are you talking about, you devil beast?" Tark scowled back at Albert momentarily. And then, seemingly from out of nowhere, the centaur held out a tall glass to Albert." "What devilish concoction is that, demon spawn? I won't drink it." "This is no devilish concoction; it is a simple glass of goat's milk," smiled Tark. "I've heard it is a favorite repast of yours." Remaining suspicious, Albert took the glass from Tark. He still wasn't certain he could trust this demon, but the contents of the glass looked just like goat's milk. And he was very thirsty. Carefully he brought the glass up to his nose. As he sniffed its contents, he smiled. "This smells exactly like goat's milk." "You have much to learn little naiad and time is already short. If I told you the glass contains goat's milk, then the glass contains goat's milk," snapped Tark. "I have no reason to lie to one such as you," he said with obvious contempt. Albert took a cautious sip of the milk. "It's absolutely delicious." And then, without another moment's hesitation, he quickly gulped the remainder down. "Might I please have another glass, Mr. Tark?" he asked, surprised by his own politeness. "It is just Tark," replied the centaur. "I have no need for the human's honorific, naiad." He watched as Albert suddenly yawned. "I believe the one glass was sufficient." "If you say so, Mr. Tark." Albert stretched his arms, then took a deep breath, before yawning once again. "I'm suddenly feeling a little sleepy Mr. Tark," he yawned again. "I hope you won't mind or be too upset if I take a little nap right now." Tark smiled. "Not at all, little naiad. You are in great need of this restful nap." Already pleased with the changes in this one's mind, Tark watched with amusement as Albert stretched out languorously on the ground. Albert smiled up at Tark, no longer in the least afraid of the huge centaur towering over him. Other emotions had begun asserting themselves. "Do you know you're really kind of cute, Tarky Poo?" he smiled, then closed his eyes, and within moments his breasts were rhythmically rising and falling in deep slumber. "Tarky Poo, indeed," grinned the centaur, as he looked down at the sleeping naiad's form. "It's a shame they didn't transform you into a centaur; we are always in need of more fillies. But perhaps this form is just as well for you. Had you become a filly this day, you would have been mine when you awoke. But I also would have had to surrender she who I've worked so hard to have come to me by the end of this week. In any event, I'm certain you'll learn much while you sleep. And you'll feel brand new when you next awake, little naiad." With a widening smile, Tark turned and vanished into the surrounding habitat. One, who must not know he could be here, was on his way. ***** Only a few seconds later, Dr. Sinclair came through the outer door to check on the progress of the latest subject of those ancient magics he and Clark had deciphered. Bob was surprised as he looked through the glass. "How odd," he mumbled, as he noticed the naiad was still sleeping peacefully. He went over to the phone and punched in the four-digit office extension. "She's still asleep, Clark," he said calmly into the phone. ... "I would have thought she'd been awake by now too. All of our calculations indicated that she'd be full awake by now." ... "I don't know. Maybe it has something to do with that drug Vinnie gave him." ... "No, we've used the same drug several times before. I've never seen results like this before. Maybe it's only the rewriting of his memories that's requiring more time than we calculated it would. It might be something else entirely; after all we're still working in relatively virgin territory. We could have also misinterpreted something from the old tome." ... "I suppose. There should be no problems here as long as she remains asleep." Bob looked inside the habitat and saw, from the steady risings and fallings of her breasts, that the naiad was breathing normally. "She seems to have a very healthy set of lungs, Clark," Bob said with awe. ... "Can you send someone done to watch her? I'd like to know when she wakes and I may have another appointment to keep once morning arrives. That is, if he decides to show. When Vincent checked in before going home for the night, he wasn't certain if the man he'd spoken with would show or not. ... "By the way, Dr. Warners will be joining us at our next project meeting. She says she has some new theories she'd lik