Best Of Enemies 2-3: The Second Life free porn video

The Best of Enemies 2-3: The Second Life By Ron Dow75 2) I Want My Life Back! The area around the suburban cul-de-sac had an unusual number of cars, SUVs, pickups and minivans, bringing people who had to get out of their vehicles to stand, mill, crowd, and gossip about the scene they enclosed. Nearly half of Unincorporated's sheriff's office was out to keep the peace, arrest the usual troublemakers, find a pickpocket, and manage the scene of the accident. The local firemen had finished pulling the tow truck away that had broken the fire hydrant, used the jaws- of-life to extricate a minister from the car he'd slammed into a telephone pole, treated a man who had sat petrified in the strange car he had parked over a Harley-Davidson, and stood by to administer the EMT assistance that would obviously soon be needed by a number of parties. While her thirteen-year-old brother, Aaron, climbed on the equipment, and made a nuisance of himself for the authorities, Deborah Samson (a brunette in jacket, skirt, and boots) finally made it to in front of the house she lived at. It was a shingled one-and-a-half story peaked rectangle with the width facing the street, and a detached garage that helped screen the long side yard. "I don't care if you're a major stockholder in Aunt Fanny, which is the parent company of AngelLite, which is the holding company of Pork Town, which owns AAAlignment-and-Parts- That's not going to pay for the damages done to my tow truck!!" A large man in coveralls with a ruddy face and purple veins rather forcefully made his case. Our SUV needed a tow? Deborah asked herself. A policeman was standing by, writing things down in his book. Another stood as his backup. "Lou Loved Elsa! Even more than me!" yelled their neighbor, the very tan and buff bleached blond Mrs. Lewis (dressed in a stereotypical leather biker outfit) yelled; she was still holding a several plastic bags of groceries. "It was a collector's item!" "Insurance! Insurance! I couldn't get insurance for my prototype!" Another neighbor, the short, round Mr. Nestor (his sides and backs of his weird glasses lost in his long mouse-brown hair) with the solar charging, battery powered car, had come out of his shock, and was, now, running about in a panic. "Insurance!?" their church's pastor, 'Uncle' Daniel (back in his minister's collar and black bib within his almond colored suit) said with a note of concern. "No, no; the Lord provides... there is nothing unusual about charging an automobile's expenses to the church... I use it on church business, after all... I am careful to itemize... separate it out from when I use it for my construction business..." "Do not worry!" Deborah's twenty-three-year-old sister (looking as prim and proper as ever in her housecoat and apron) tried to reassure everybody. "My husband can take care of all your money concerns..." The naturally strawberry blonde hated dark moods. "Evy!! Just How rich do you think I am!" yelled her older sister's fifty-year-old husband (dressed in his orange camouflage camping outfit). Despite the chaos and responsibility he was under, Deborah's brother-in-law-cum-'Dad' was looking better than she'd ever seen him. He was still turning purple, though. "If I still had my millions, would I live in a place like this?!!" The brunette saw who, she was absolutely certain, was the cause of the whole, gigantic mess: The sixteen-year-old with the green crew cut (wearing jeans and a heavy pullover) was focused on -of course!- a girl. "I don't mind you living with us! I like that you like me that much! You're just about the prettiest girl I've ever met. But I'm not going to marry you!" What??!! Deborah looked at the brunet girl with the light tan dressed in khaki camouflage pants, tee shirt, and open orange slicker. (Weren't those Carl's clothes? They certainly didn't fit her.) "Why shouldn't you mind!? You're taking over my life- Pretending to be me! If I have to say we're engaged, I will! Just to make your life so miserable, you'll give me my body back!!" "'My' body... back??" Deborah repeated what she'd heard. "Sis!!" Carl yelped. "Sis! Don't believe a word he says!" the strange girl said, rushing--really rushing, like in under a second-over to her. "He's an alien!! I accidentally crashed her space saucer, and she's getting back by taking over my life-" Deborah screamed in the middle of this very strange girl's on-rush, and jumped out of her skin at least a yard back. The girl was there behind her, to catch her from her fall. "-And making me a Girl!!" The brown-eyed sixteen-year-old looked up into the over- sparkling eyes of the alien girl. "Carl, what have you done this time!!" "I just told you-" the girl started telling her again the story that had been interrupted. "She was abducted by this alien mouse, and I rescued her; and now she thinks she's me!" Carl told her, rushing up to her at a human pace. "'Alien mouse'!?" Deborah cried, struggling to get up out of the hands of the girl who was as weird as her brother-in-law's son was. "Yeah: It took away her memory, and like, now, she's got her mind set on being the first person she remembers--Me! I'm the real Carl! She switched bodies on me! I'm inside this body! Not where I'm supposed to be!" "If, like you say, you're the 'real' Carl," Deborah said, as menacing as she could, "What does he know about touching me?!" The new girl looked down on the angry face. "Yipe! Sorry, Sis! I was accidentally trying to help you!" she answered, dropping her. 'Sis' fell down onto the front lawn. 'Bro' came to stand over her, "She's very good at figgerin' out what I'd say and do." "She's better at it, than you!!" Deborah cried, reaching for the boy's ankle. "YAAA!!" he cried before joining her on the ground. {Ah, ha...} A mouse 'smiled', as it stuck its front head and paws from out of (its fur, now, the same color and texture as) the hair of the simulant girl that was connected to Carl's now split personality. "Deborah Anne! What have you been told about that?!" her sister was standing on the other side of her. "Evy! He was being weird again!" Deborah explained. "And he brought home a girl even weirder than he is!!" "Nevertheless," Big sister 'Mom' said, "we did not agree to your self-defense classes so you could abuse your brother. Or anybody else. A girl should not use physical force, unless it is absolutely necessary." "Yeah! Girls should act like girls!" the girl in camouflage told her. "Wait a minute, what am I saying!?" "You are speaking God's truth, my dear," Evy spoke to the new girl. "The Lord created women to be the weaker of the genders, as a compliment to man's strength. We are compensated with other gifts." "I don't want to be compensated! The dumb alien was stupid enough to leave his super-strength in this stupid body, and I'm going to keep it!!" "Weird!!" Deborah accused springing to her feet. That was when the mouse jumped from the hair of one girl into that of the other. "'Super-strength'?" Evy asked. "Is that how you were able to destroy the tow truck?" "And the ute!" Carl said, having a little more difficulty getting up on his sore ankle. "She punched a hole in the roof with her head! Then she supercharged the engine, and nearly got us shot at the police barricade!" "It was all an accident!" the girl said in frustration. "See what happens, when a girl does not act like a lady?" Evy said in her most big-sisterly way. "Being a lady is no accident." "Who could be a 'lady' around Carl!?" Deborah cried, as she scratched her scalp without thinking why. "You could!!" both Carl and his girl said at once. "Now, Deborah," Evy gently chastised, "Carl has sworn by all the Bibles in the house and at the church that he was to treat us like family. We are his 'Mom' and 'Sister', and little 'Brother'. And has he not kept his word these past three years?" "He's just waiting for the moment," Deborah eyed Carl with the greatest suspicion. "But we haven't given him it, yet." Carl fumed with his arms stuck deep into his armpits. "Three years. How long does it take?" "We must treat him as the family he must treat us as; it is only by mutual respect, that we can hope to save his wretched soul." "Hey! My soul isn't wretched!" the girl defended Carl. "That's my line!" Carl told the girl. "Now, dear," Evy said, smiling even more for the new comer, "All sinners are wretched. It is only throu-" "Didn't you hear her?!" Deborah told her sister. "Weird!" "Charles told me the girl is homeless, without any family. It is quite understandable she would prefer another identity. We must be patient. When she has seen the light, and has been-" "She wants Mine," Carl said. "Sick! The girl wants to be a pervert!" Deborah yelled. "I haven't had the chance! Where's guilty until proven innocent?!" Carl yelled back, ripping his hands out. {That's just what he wants! Don't give the chance!} Deborah heard 'herself' think. His 'sister' suddenly brought her leg up, and connected it with the side of Carl's face. "Put your hands back where they belong!!" she ordered. {Nice Reflexes.} Carl was sent flying: Almost into Carla, the fe-male him. What made it "almost" was the punch she gave his other side. "Keep my hands off of your body!!" she yelled. {This is going well.} "Deborah Anne!" her older sister cried, clearly upset. "Anybody who wanted to could see your underpants!" "Who wants to look at plain white ones!" Carla reflexively defended herself before she realized that she shouldn't have. "You are a pervert!!" Deborah yelled, leaping at her. {She's my sister: Don't do it!!} Carla heard 'herself say. Carla closed her eyes, waiting to be hit by the approaching feet. She felt the heavy boots compress those 'stuffed bean bags'zxc on her chest. But that was it. "Deborah!?!" Carla's step-mom cried. When Carla opened her eyes, she saw Deborah lying on the ground. "Yeah. They're white, alright," a dazed Carl said, still, somehow, up on both feet (though barely). "EeaaAA!!!" Deborah screamed, yanking her skirt down. "Carl!" his step-mom chastised. The sight of the panties gone, Carla blinked, and thought of something else, "Of course! I've got superpowers now: I don't have to worry about getting hurt!!" And with that thought, other ones began forming in his sinner brain. {It's not about strength! It's about leverage! You just need agility to apply it!} "Right!" Deborah pushing herself up back onto her feet in one quick motion. "I may have only taken self-defense since the marriage --But I've been taking dance all of my life!!" For some reason, a plie was a good self-defense posture in her mind. Though a little nervous, because she was not use to the idea of being 'invulnerable', Carla just stood there. She boosted her confidence by smiling. That infuriated Deborah even more. "Ballet leap!" And she did leap. Carl caught her. ("Carl! Put her down!" Evy told him.) He ran with her over his shoulder, "You don't attack aliens, Stupid!! If they're super-strength doesn't get you, their super- technology will!!" "You're touching me!!" Deborah screamed, starting to kick and thrash about furiously, now that she realized what had gone wrong. Thrown off-balance, Carl fell, taking his sister-in-law- sister with him. They both tumbled. ("Do not hurt yourselves!" Evy pleaded.) Carla ran, and was in front of them in time to stop them. She was just about to; when she remembered that Deborah wouldn't like it. As for the alien in the body she belonged in... She let them tumble by her, one on one side, the other -- Carl hit the pear tree Dad had insisted on transplanting in the front yard. ("I asked you not to hurt yourself, Carl," Evy said.) "Are you ready to try and hurt me, again?" Carla asked, bending over Deborah. "You want me to hurt you!?! What!!?! Masochism is one of your perversions?!!" Deborah yelled up to the girl. ("Poor Carl," Evy said, hurrying to tend to her stepson.) "No," Carla smiled. "But the sooner you learn you can't hurt me, the sooner you'll stop attacking me." Then the smile left her face, as she frowned down on her, "I've had girls hit me with everything from snubs to slaps- -One even punched me in the gut- -but none of them liked doing it!" {Does that mean you love me? You can't hate somebody, if you don't care about them!} "Really!?" Carla said, startled by this new thought of 'hers'. Deborah roared: "Don't ever say that again!!" She'd gotten a foot on the ground, and now a knee. "Is that why you won't leave me alone? You're always doing something when I'm thinking about girls." "EeEEE!!!" Deborah sprang up at the strange, sick woman. "My reputation is bad enough because of the lies Carl tells!!" Carla caught her sister-in-law-sister by the biceps, and held her off, "I never made up those stories!! How many times have I got to tell you!?!" While Deborah pushed against the hold on her, and her face was down, the mouse leaped from her hair into Carla's. "You are going to be just like Carl!!" "I am Carl! I told you! And I'm sorry I can't love you like you love--" "Stop saying things like that!! I don't love girls!!" Failing to do anything about the grip she was in, Deborah kicked! But Carla easily trapped her leg between hers. "I wish I could love you, too! But I already love someone el-- Oh, no: I've seen this before!" His view of Deborah changed: Her prettiness had been stripped away with her skin. She was now blood vessel fed sinews ("Too gross for words!!") Carla's gaze was focused in on the side of her neck... it zoomed in closer and closer... until she could see cells, then one cell, then nucleus, then chromosomes, then genes, then- -Something was happening to her DNA!! Carla's distraction had meant that her grip had lessened; but Deborah had already brought her free leg up: She slammed its knee into Carla's belly with all of her raging anger. "Don't ever say the word love around me!!" When Carla could bring her mind back from the wrong kind of tour of Deborah's anatomy, she found that she was the one on the ground now. ("Oh, dear. She does not really love girls, does she? I mean, of course, love in wholly wrong biblical sense," Evy asked Carl. She was primly kneeling beside him on the grass in front of the tree.) (Carl was rubbing the back of his neck, and testing his nose. "If she wants to be like me, she has to.") ("But it goes against God and Nature!") ("Tell it to your sister. I don't think she likes guys, either," Carl frowned at his sister-in-law.) ("She just has not found the right one," Evy tried to assure herself. "She's had such terrible luck with the boys." Then, she nodded to herself finding her faith again, "But that is okay. The Lord will provide, if a girl will but keep herself for the right man. Like me and Charles.") +++ Homer Nestor had left; Charles Decatur was busy filling out forms, and answering the questions of the police and fire departments; Lulu Lewis was leaning against the nearest undamaged car, ignoring those double-handful of on-lookers who had gotten interested in witnessing the live daytime TV talk show. And more than one or two cameras were recording this. ("Do you think we can sell this?" 16-year-old Wyatt Ulman asked, local hunk, jerk, and friend of Carl.) ("You bet!" his best friend, Ben Armstrong, grinned. "With all those cable networks that got to fill up their time with something, one of them has got to want to show this! I mean, this has got everything that TV's all about, right!?) While under the pear tree: "...Say you have not, yet, gone down that unrighteous path of inequity!" 'Uncle' Daniel told the girl. The thirty-six-year-old man wore a fairly expensive tan serge suit, and (the family knew) a tie under the black ministers' 'dickey'. "How could I!" Carla tried to tell him, yet again. "I haven't been a girl long enough to inequitize any girl, yet: Not even myself!" {It doesn't take much for me to lower your inhibitions,} the mouse said more to itself than Carla. "There!! See!?! She admits it!" Deborah yelled. Evy intervened: "Deborah! Uncle Daniel! I am sure this poor creature is not beyond redemption. Once she has been save, and baptized--" "I have been! I've been baptized three times: And saved twice! --Once by you!" the girl told the pastor. ("How does she know even that about me!? She must be able to read my mind--Oh, no!!" Carl turned red, and tried to stop himself thinking.) "Me!?! That cannot be! I never forget a soul that I have brought to meet their maker. You must be confusing me with some other minister of God," he said, as he threw back his head with the high upswept hair that was already starting to turn gray. He always reminded Carl (and now Carla) of the actor Ken Mars. "Though, perhaps, you were a passerby and heard the message that the Lord inspired me to deliver. He does call upon me to deliver his message at the most odd and peculiar times and places. I remember one time, when I visited a day care. It was nap time, but--" "Uncle Daniel, I am sure this is not one of those times and places," Evy spoke up, reluctantly. ("I'll say," Deborah said to herself. "The Lord should write new material for him.") "Yes. Well," Uncle Daniel said, realizing that the Lord wasn't with him enough to ignore the wishes of his audience, "since the young woman seems to have been given a plethora of opportunities to see the light, I suppose my standard climatic, life-altering, no-holds-barred sermon of revelation would have little impact." "But we must not give up hope for her," Evy said. "That is why there are Sunday sermons." "My sermons!" Uncle Daniel smiled, pleased at the thought. "If anything can reach ears shut by the wax of the devil from the Lord's still, small voice," ({Still, small voice?} the mouse said to itself again.) "Then it is one of my stentorian fire-and- brimstone orations." "In the meantime, we must accept her into our home, and show her the proper guidance," Evy said, sounding like the faithful wife of a missionary (which was the closest thing her denomination came to a nun or saint). "With the proper patience, and perseverance, I know we can make a good and proper, God- fearing lady of her." "Her!?! 'Her' is right here! Aren't you going to ask me what I want?!!" Carla complained. "The wishes of heathens and perverts don't count!" Deborah told her. "Are you sure, Little Evy?" Uncle Daniel asked. "As your father's successor at the church, I take a godfatherly interest in his family." ("Yeah. Right," both Carla and Deborah said at nearly the same time. Carl was still trying not to let any thoughts get out or in.) "I have been tested before," Evy said, proud in her own honestly humble way. "I became responsible for my sister and brother, though I was still in high school. I found a way to provide for them, though Daddy did not believe in insurance." (Again, Deborah felt the sharp pang of guilt. But fought it again with: She didn't have to marry a guy well over twice her age!) "Now, God has placed another responsibility on me. Though I be tested like Job, I shall not complain, for it is His will. I will do my best to be His joyful servant, and do the task He has assigned me." She looked, at last, straight at Carla; her eyes were big, and sparkled with an inner light, "I shall teach you how to be the girl He meant you to be. You shall not be as girls are expected to be in these post-modern times, more boy than girl. No: You shall wear modest and pretty dresses, and behave as young Christian lady should behave; with good manners and proper deference." Her enthusiasm grew with each word as she grasped Carla's hands in hers, "You shall be the kind of girl any upstanding Christian young man would be proud to claim as his one and only bride!" Evy pulled on Carla's hands, now, urging her to follow her towards the house, "You shall see: With a change in your attitude, there shall be a change in the attitudes of those around you!" Deborah and Carl watched Evy Decatur practically skip with Carla in her wake. "...What was once thought alien to you, shall become the most natural, most Godly thing to be!" "That girl stole my sister!" Deborah nearly screamed. "Thank God!" Carl said. "That girl's got powers. She's been using them to be like me. If she wants to use them, now, to be like Mom, that's great! She is a girl, after all: Not a guy! Mom acts just how a girl's suppose to act! I wouldn't mind being married to a girl like her!" "Married!?!" Deborah asked in surprise. That nonsense she'd walked in on between them was... "Weren't you listening?" Carl grinned at her. "Me and her are engaged. We're going to be living together!" +++ "You can wear some of Deborah's clothes until we can go shopping for you," Evy told Carla as she brought out a double armload from her little sister's closet at the far end of the "Princess Style" room. "Er... Deborah has pants. Can't I start out wearing some of those?" Carla eyed the things. The girls at high school wore better (now, to the him she used to be, worst) things, but there was no denying that the things being offered were very girly. "No!" Evy smiled happily. "We are going to start you out right on the right path! Dresses, and skirts, and the most feminine of blouses. ...And scarves, and hair thingies, and hosiery, and - -Oh! I almost forgot the underwear!" "None for me!" Carla pleaded. "I mean, it's going to be hard enough for Deborah when she sees me in her favorite clothes, but..." Evy wasn't listening to her. She'd dropped the clothes on top of Deborah's bed. But she wasn't heading to Deborah's dresser, either. Carla followed her out and down the hall to the master bedroom beside the closet, either. "...I know Deborah would not like somebody else to wear her underwear. I will let you borrow some of mine! I would loan you my own clothes, but I am afraid they are a little too old-looking for a teenager. We don't want you to be too any more different than you have to be, do we..." Carla looked into the room from halfway out of it. She saw the woman, while still standing, bend her knees all of the way down to reach the bottom drawer of her dresser. "Why? Oh, why can't anything work out for me?" she said to herself in a low, pained voice. "If I was going to get a new body, why couldn't it be one you could love." "Here!" her step-mom smiled, pulling out a sample of the panties and bras she kept in her special drawer. What Carla saw were the laciest, sexiest satin lingerie Carl had ever been close to in real life. Only, now, the girl him was about to get a lot closer. 3) That Other Life Begins Inside Carl's sister-in-law's "Princess-Style" bedroom was a big haired brunette with a light tan in khaki pants and tee shirt (the hiking boots on the floor): "I'm in an alien body; I have superpowers; I don't have to wear bras or panties if I don't want to. Who's going to make me," the former Carl Decatur declared to herself. A mouse whose hair was like hers sat up from out of it. {They have names for males who wear female clothes,} Carla heard 'herself' think. "That's right!" she said, frowning as she thought of them. "When I was Carl last week, I used them myself on Edison Nestor," she muttered. "Nerd" was about the only thing the son of the local inventor wasn't called. "I won't do it!" Carla said crossing her arms (too high up, and) then uncrossing them. "She can pull out all of her 'Mom tricks': They won't work this time! I'll make her understand I'm not really a girl! --I'll make them all know that's Not Carl, but an alien mouse in my body!! Let her wear girl clothes! This is her body she put me in! When I get my body back, nobody'll try to put me in girl clothes!!" {That's right. This is all Carl's fault. Carl's trying to make you do something that's just about the worst thing that could happen to a human male.} "That's right," Carla scowled, now, because her "guyness" was deeply threatened. (Guyness!? There wasn't any "Guy" there because of her!!) "The dirty pervert." She heard Mom (or was she just Carl's stepmother, now? There was something about 'her' and him being engaged, right?) call in from the hall, "Are you decent?" "Yes: And I'm going to stay that way!" "That's wonderful! I don't know what your life was like before you met my son, Carl, but--" Evy Decatur's words ran out as she opened the bedroom door. (The mouse quickly withdrew back inside the simulant girl's hair.) "Mom, I am not a girl!" Carla's brown eyes flashed their rainbow sparkles. "I refuse to dress like I was a girl! And nothing anybody can say or do can make me!" "Then, I shall pray," the strawberry blonde said, closing her big blue eyes. "Praying is both saying and doing, even when you do it silently!" Carla told her, reframing her vow. "That is for God to decide," the 23-year-old woman said humbly. "God!?" Carla felt guilty at just the mention of the name. God knew the truth, He-- "God knows I'm not a girl! And He knows that I didn't want to be a girl! --I have nothing to be guilty about! Say the prayer, Mom. If anybody can get Him to help me, it's you!" "That is what I am doing. But I am but one woman. When you're dressed, we can have the whole family pray together for your well-being." "The whole family?? I wonder if aliens pray? I hope she doesn't care for it as much as I do... And Deborah? Ha! The only pray she's ever had for me was that I would get lost. I'm part way there, now." "Oh, Aaron's is going to want to pray! I was thirteen like him when Dad got remarried. Would I want to see a non-relative girl leave? A sexy one?! (Of course, I haven't looked in the mirror, yet; but this body sure feels sexy (Ye-eh-sh!))" "Then, there's Dad. He'd pray. I'm sure he's not wild about having to take care of another 'charged body' ?'Charged'!? I hope not!" "Of course, I did, I mean the alien body and it's alien brain, did save his life. Maybe he'd want them to hang around, just in case--" {Will you stop talking so I can get a thought in on you?!} the mouse yelled in a barely audible, mainly male voice. "Oh, sorry, Brain. Sometimes when I get rattled, I have to hear myself think out loud. The idea that God is now going to--" "Amen." "Amen." Carla repeated what Mom said. Then, "Amen?" Carla dropped the khaki camouflage tee shirt, and looked down at large pink nipples. The boobs they (one part puffy, the other hard) stuck out to hide everything that was not more than three inches or so from her body to her right and left (but not in the middle). And below, the swells she felt that were her behindzxc were also as exposed. Her pants were laying on the floor were (apparently) they'd been kicked. {That was the thought I was trying to tell you about.} "Why didn't you tell me sooner!!" "What do you think I am, a mind-reader?!" "You're the Super-Brain!" "But it's your mind!" "Do you talk to yourself, often?" somebody else said. "Mom!!" Carla cried, looking about, before diving for Deborah's bed. Crack! Went a couple of slats. But not enough for the bed with the throne motif headboard to do anything more than want to tilt on the far side. "I do, too," the woman smiled, coming towards the bed. (Carla quickly pulled the covers (white with a purple blanket) over her. And taking the clothes that had been laid out on it with her.) "People think I am always talking to God. Now, I know God listens to everybody. But it would be presumptuous to think I could have a personal relationship with Him. (At least not of that sort.)" "That He would answer me as if He were an everyday person?" Evy Decatur shook her head. ({I wonder how hard it would be to convince her that he does?} Carla's 'Brain' asked itself.) "I had a girl friend, once, Beverly Mohl; she would always be telling people what God told her. I still pray for her sometimes; though she must have gotten over her breakdown by now. (She was so disappointed that God did not call on her to preach.) "No, when I talk to myself, I'm talking to myself. When I feel lost, I sometimes have to hear myself think out loud." "You do..." Carla looked up from under the covers that she had drawn almost to her eyes. "You, too!?" Evy's smile became pleased, as if, maybe, she'd found another Beverly. "Maybe we can talk to ourselves together, and have a conversation, sometime." "Uh, I don't know if I want you to hear what I'm thinking out loud about," Carla said, squirming about. Evy laughed, "You should hear what my family says about my 'conversations'. I am sure that if you can keep your language to a "P" rating, they will think of you like one of the family." She then sat on the edge of the bed, "As for what you think about, I am sure they can be no worse than Carl's... or Aaron, for that matter. They are boys, after all. Girls have to have better thoughts, don't they?" "I don't know!" Carla said, missing the question's rhetorical nature. "Oh, Dear. You do insist on trying to think like a guy, don't you?" "Yes!! ("Aw, shoot! --Oops!") That's because--" "Aaron!?! Is how long have you been peeping?!" the boy's guardian sister rose up from the bed, and headed for the door. "I didn't see anything! Honest!!" came back the 13-year- old's still unbroken voice. "The sin is still in the thought, young man! You tried to see something that you were not be permitted to see!" "Does that mean if she--" "No!" His sister told him sternly. {You know you should be agitated that the youngster tried to see you without clothes on.} "I would have done the same thing," Carla told herself. Her step-mom came back from chasing off Carl's little brother-in-law. "Now that you're dressed, come down and meet the family properly." "Dressed??" She whipped the covers off of her: Yes, while hiding under the covers, Carla had put on the black lacey satin panties and matching bra, half-slip, gray pleated skirt, light blue short sleeve blouse, and, even now, was tying a green sheer scarf around her neck (the top buttons she had left undone). "I am turning into a girl!! Do something Brain: I don't want to be a girl!!" {I don't want you to be a girl, either! If you get to like it, how am I ever going to get you out of the body?!} "I could be stuck like this!?!" Carla cried in horror. +++ Carla was up out of bed, and pacing back and forth on one of the red carpet strips set in the royal blue wall-to-wall carpet (despite what it felt like in a skirt). She refused to look at herself in any of the mirrors Deborah had in her room. "If I look, and see a cute girl looking back, I might forget that she's not a girl." And, now that the initial shock was wearing off, she was beginning to feel cute! {You would be fooled by mere outward appearance? Your own?} "If I want to keep thinking of myself as a guy, I would! Guys are suckers for pretty girls. Why do you think they're always selling things with models?" Of course this wasn't exactly a model's body. It was more like a..." {Don't models also sell merchandise to females as well?} "Girls are suckers for girls, too?" Carla stopped to ask herself. {I am sure it is for different reasons.} "You don't think, maybe, girls... like looking at other girls, do you?" {Don't think like that. It will only make it easier for you to be a girl.} "Right. Be a sinner, and be a girl. There are two things I didn't think would go together. Of course, in the Bible, it's Eve that--" {You're talking to yourself again. Let's try and stay on the subject? Now, what does the "Joy Rider's Guide", Vol. E, have to say? Hmm... "Unlike the normal gender roles of most species of the vertebrae of this planet, it is the human female that has the task of attracting the mate. This includes having the exaggerated body parts--" Exaggerated? It must be referring to their mammary glands.} Carla had started pacing again. "And rumps! And hips! And thighs! And waist! And neck! And..." Any kind of movement seemed to her at the moment to jiggle all of them at the same time; like "Jell-O"! {I'm looking up the list now. There does seem to be a rather long list of secondary differences between the genders. "One of the primary reasons humans have faces is to distinguish..."} "Don't talk about faces! Do you know what it's like to feel pretty?! It makes my skin crawl. --Oh, great! Now I'm thinking about how girl-skin feels! Only I'm thinking about how it feels from the wrong side!" {That is it: Work yourself up into a state of hysteria.} "'Hysteria'!? That's what girls get!!" He had on satin undies! {If you remain a girl, you are going to be hysterical a lot. Do you want that?} "No!" Carla said, stopping her pacing. "If I don't want to be a girl, I have to stop acting like one." {That was not the reaction I was looking for.} Carla drew herself up as straight and tall as she could (which was hard to do when you're curved and short), "I have to take this like a man." Then, she nearly lost that pose, "I don't know how to 'be a man'!! I'm just a jerk kid! Wait! Dad knows how to be a man! He's always trying to force his role-model on me," she got it back. "I just have to ask myself how he would do it." She did her best Dad imitation, "This is so stupid!! What am I doing in a dress!! Don't just stand there: Get out of it at once!! Do you want to be a siss--" "You are thinking about stop being a tomboy and making Evy your big sister!" Deborah said just inside the doorway. "Deborah!!" Carla cried with a start. "How much did you hear?" "I didn't hear your imaginary friend. But I certainly did hear your side of the conversation. The whole house must have! Next time, close the door?" she said, doing just that. "The family," Carla groaned. "If I didn't already know what they thought about Mom's--" "Mom!!? You're calling her "Mom"?!! "Sister" isn't enough!?! Even if you are engaged to my pervert brother-in-law, you just got here! Where do you get off just moving in on us like this!?!" Carla found herself backing up. For somebody who did stupid things around girls, Deborah had always been the exception. She was supposed to be family. "This is my house! I only said that about the dirty alien pervert to get back in it!" "It is just a plan of yours: 'Room and board' with some sap family!" Okay, even as a girl, now, Carl had a way of being stupid around Deborah--The kind that always made her mad at him, er, her. "If Evy and Dad won't do it, I'll get rid of you!!" Carla was backed into a corner. It had stuffed animals sticking out of holes in a mesh net. To her right was the inset case of shelves with dolls (mostly Barbies in a wide assortment of costumes), and books about dolls. A purple-with-gold-tiaras drapery swag was on her left. It was all too symbolic for his besieged guy-mind. =I have to break free,= she thought, looking out the window. "Hi-Ya!!" Deborah cried as she pirouetted towards her. Carla made her escape attempt: She sprang to her right. Her small bare feet hit up against the far short and fancy leg of Deborah's dresser (and all of her girl-fat jolted). She changed her angle, and headed for the door (and all of her girl-fat flowed.) She almost made it over the bed: Cre-Acks! "YeeYerr!! You're a menace!" Deborah screamed as her bed fell through its frame. "You take 'home wrecker' literally!" "A-w, shoot!!" Carla cried, looking up from the bed to the renewed attack. "It was an accident!" "So will this be!!" +++ The men-folk of the family were in the living area (with simulated mahogany wainscot under the picture windows looking into the side yard's garden) of the off-white great room, listening to the yelling and screaming, running and jumping, and the wholesale rearrangement of Deborah's room. "How are those two going to share a room, if there's no room left?" the dark-haired Aaron asked half-rising from one end of the beige couch with colorful print cushions that was nearly up against the wall opposite the one that hid the bedroom hall. (The couch was at a right angle with it was plant green, towards the front door.) "There wouldn't be a problem, if you'd let her live with me," the green crew cut teenager said, slouched over so deep that only the back of his head and shoulders touched the back of the couch; he had his hands buried deep in his pits. He was purposefully looking at nothing; not even the large cabinet with the TV locked in it, nearly across from him. "There's always a problem, when you're involved, Carl," his dad frowned at him. An arm-length and a rolled up magazine away from him, the gray haired 50-year-old was sitting erect and alert in his leather recliner. (A flower-print easy chair was on his other side.) "And as long as you two can be kept chaperoned, there's a chance that a new problem won't develop that can't be fixed." "He means a baby," Aaron smiled at his brother-in-law's son/big brother. "I know what he means!" Carl told him back. "Geez! You'd think there wasn't anything like birth control." "There will be no talk of birth control in this house!" Dad glared. "Especially when your Mom is around." "She's right there in the kitchen area!" Carl said. Evy Decatur was puttering about in the space that was separated from the dinning area of the great room only by a counter with a sink in it. She was busy cooking dinner on the range that was part of the counter that separated the kitchen area from the back door to the deck, on her left, and the door to the basement, on the right. "Pretend I'm not here!" she interrupted her humming to say. "You guys continue with your guy talk." "See?" Aaron said. "She's use to not knowing who her real father is." "But the pain is still there," Charles Decatur said. "And I won't allow anything to threaten her smile." And when he said that, he was glaring straight at Carl, leaving no doubt where he considered the threat would come from. "Okay. Okay. I get the message. Isn't bad enough she has religious reasons to be against the pill?" Not being able to go any further down, Carl put his feet up on the three square ottomans that served as a coffee table; they even had openings on the sides for magazines and other miscellany. "Things have quieted down over in the bedroom," Aaron said, cocking an ear to the wall that separated the hall with bedrooms from the great room. Despite the nearness, everything was soundproofed and baffled fairly well; there were even large oriental wall tapestries on this side of that wall. (An eclectic mix of a mainly green and flowery oriental rug; a wall hanging depicting the animals entering Noah's ark; a blue oriental rug; and a rainbow wall hanging.) "Probably nothing left to ruin," Carl said. "And you'd want to live with somebody who does that?" his dad asked. "She's a girl." "Of course!" Charles shook his head as he recognized, again, what really mattered to his sinner son. "Who needs furniture, when you've got 'love'." Aaron grinned, "I thought there wasn't going to be any--" The curtain of beads the was the hall's 'door' clacked as Deborah came storming out of the hallway and into the entrance area. She had on her school backpack, and was carrying her traveling suitcase (no one at the time thought to notice how easily she was handling the heavy luggage). "I'm going to spend the night at Curie Nestor's!" she announced. "You lost the fight!" Aaron smiled. "I did not lose!" she said as she opened the front door. She paused in the doorway long enough to say, "Let her stay in a pig sty! She's welcome to it!!" And she slammed the door. "Meow," Aaron said. "We don't need remarks like that," his brother-in-law Dad told him. "Was that Deborah who left?" Evy asked from the kitchen area. "Yes, Sweetheart!" Charles answered his wife, swiveling his chair. ("How could she not know that? She's right there where she can see and hear everything," Aaron said.) ("Your sister can loose herself in her own little world, when she wants to," Carl said. "Especially when she's in the kitchen.") "Has something upset her?" Evy asked, coming out of the kitchen area, now. She was wiping her hands on her apron. "She and, uh, the new girl are just having a little trouble, er, 'adjusting' to each other," Charles said to her. "Yes," Evy nodded, "everybody must make adjustments, when a new member of the family is added." ("'New member'?" Aaron asked. "Does that mean she thinks of her as your new sister?" he smiled at Carl. ("Not if I have anything to say about it," Carl said more to himself.) ("You don't!" Carl's dad told him.) "I should check and see how Carla is doing. She must make the biggest adjustment; she being once homeless and with no family." "I, uh, don't think that's very good idea, Sweetheart," Charles suggested. "You, er: Haven't finished dinner!" he smiled at his idea. "That's right," Carl said. "If you see the mess, you're going to want to clean that up." "There's a mess?" Evy said, walking towards the hallway juncture as if drawn by a magnet. "There she goes, My Sister the Cleaning Machine," Aaron said. Then he grinned, "Better her, than me!" A magazine was thrown at him, and got him before he could duck. +++ When Evy reached the open door of Deborah's room, she found that Carla was putting things back up in their original place, her skirt whipping back and forth in the wind she was creating (not to mention what her breasts looked like). "My, I wish I could do the housework that quickly," she smiled. After putting the desk lamp up-right, again, Carla stopped, and sat down on Deborah's vanity chair. "Did you say something, Mom? You were talking so slow, I couldn't hear you." "I said it must be nice to be able to get your chores done so fast." "It would be," Carla sulked, "if it didn't seem to me like I was moving the same old speed. Cleaning up a whole room all at once is a pain. Why did I do it?!" she asked, looking around. "Deborah caused the mess! It's her room!" "Oh, dear. It looks like we will have to have a little talk," Evy told her. "Well, fix yourself up, and come to the great room." Still, sulking Carla glanced down past her blouse at those strange new legs she had. If she didn't feel them sticking out from under the skirt she was in, she'd think they were sexy. Their light tan made them even more so. "What am I thinking!? I don't want to be turned on by this body! Like my super-brain says, I got to want to leave this body!" she cried, slamming her small fist down on one of those legs. Which started changing color. "What? What's happening? I heard about losing your tan, but--" {Humans come in a variety of colors. The simulant is equipped to change hers so that she may blend in better with whatever group she may find herself among.} The brunet mouse said. "I have chameleon powers, too?" Carla smiled. {A chameleon can change its colors, yes,} the mouse said, not wanting to give the idiot any more ideas than it was sure it would regret. {Color is a tertiary feature. You can not change gender.} Carla looked at the complexion of her hands and arms, now. "I'm starting to look like one of the family," she smiled. The mouse found that it, too, had to change the color of its fur. The hair it was trying to hide in was changing from brunet to... a strawberry blond. The End of the installment. [For those of you who are reminded of "Ranma 1/2", you are almost right. Takahashi's TG changer is what originally inspired me to write. But the premise of this storyline started out as: "What if it were Lum's lecher 'husband', Aturo of Takahashi's "Urusei Yatsuro/Those Obnoxious Aliens", that was the space princess?" [...And, yes, I'd like to make it as wild as that series. (Nearly, anyway.) To help that along, Missix's alien family will be introduced when the time is right. In the meantime, I hope to make Carla's wardrobe even more schizoid. Skimpy 'Urusei' costumes will be designed by Curie "Curry" Nestor. As for her brother, Edda...]