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With Suzannah in Mind By Jennifer Richardson Simon left the office a little after five; the early evening drizzle did little or nothing to cheer him up. At sixteen he'd been marked out as a potential high flier and had been encouraged by his over enthusiastic Mother to give college and university a miss, "to get into business as soon as the office opens!" Now, a mere two years later, Simon found himself cursing his life in general and his Mother in particular. Instead of a meteoric rise up the promotion ladder, his take-off had stalled, indeed, if it wasn't as yet in free-fall it was in an ever-downward spiral. As he traipsed through the dismally dirty London streets he mused over the promotions he'd missed out on. Not even reaching interview stage because, "If you had the qualifications on paper Simon, then perhaps we could consider you." Or, "Until you have the experience, there's little or no chance." "Thanks a lot Mum!" Simon muttered, kicking at a crisp packet, stumbling and planting his right foot in a filthy oil skinned puddle. Swearing loudly, he glanced about him in case anyone had overheard. No one had of course; no one paid him any attention, either at work or in his limited social life. About the only people who paid him any attention at all were the girls in the secretarial pool and that was only because he mumbled in embarrassment, glowing bright red when any of them ever spoke to him. Office Junior? Office Fool more like! Simon weighed up his options, back to his dingy bedsit or back home to Mummy for the evening? Could he cope with the gushing smothering of his Mother, the never ending questions: "When could he expect to be promoted?" "When was he going to bring a nice sensible girl home for tea?" "Where did I go wrong with your sister? Suzannah used to be such a sensible girl but ever since she started modelling she's become so selfish!" Simon saw he was nearing the train station, the six ten train to Huntingdon or baked beans on toast for tea? Neither, crossing the traffic filled road he entered the pub, coughing on the exhaust fumes he approached the bar. Please, no quiz over my age, he thought, acutely aware of his baby faced looks. Some mornings he prayed to spot just one bristle on his chin, so far nothing. The woman behind the bar eyed him with suspicion; Simon could see it coming and began to colour without provocation. "What will it be?" She asked, her heaving chest trying to escape the over tight confines of her off white blouse. "Erm, a half of lager please?" Simon asked, his unbroken soft voice seeming to fill the small lounge, adding to his discomfort. "Oh! Half of lager for the city whiz kid!" She snorted some kind of laugh at Simon and he could feel the ground opening beneath his feet. He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the dusty wall mounted mirrors at the back of the bar. Right on cue he watched his cheeks flush crimson and his throat began to constrict. A glass was plonked on the bar top before him, more froth than liquid, rather than provoke argument he meekly paid and took a sip. Another glance in the mirror, he certainly looked the part, smart charcoal grey suit. Crisp white shirt and slim knotted tie. Blonde hair neatly combed and regularly trimmed by Mummy. Quite where his Mother had got the idea that if he kept his hair all one length it would be more manageable he didn't know. She never allowed it to grow down much passed his ears and when he combed it straight, all the way round, he couldn't see out at all. Just as Mother kept his hair in check so she pressed his shirts and made sure his suits were dry cleaned regularly. Weekends spent being prepared for the week ahead, fussed over and praised to Mother's hordes of twin set and pearl friends. No, no going home this evening, another drink then back to bedsit land. He thought about his sister, Suzannah, "Suki" she called herself now and if Mother knew what kind of modelling "Suki" did, she'd have had kittens. As twins Suzannah and Simon shared many characteristics, hair colour, slim build and long legged. Facially they were very alike, obviously Suzannah did more with her looks than Simon did and she also had the confidence and arrogance to stand up for herself against the world and her Mother. If she wanted to model lingerie and kinky outfits she was going to and that was all there was to it. Independent and fiery of spirit was Suzannah; shy retiring and nervous was Simon. A flurry of movement caught Simon's attention, behind him to the right in a corner booth. Dimly lit as the pub was, Simon could only make out shapes in the darkness and realised that his staring was rather obvious and certainly rude. He quickly turned away and tried to cover his embarrassment by ordering another drink, being daring, he asked for a pint. "My! Aren't we the big spender!" The barmaid laughed, thrilled with her wit and showing off to the elderly drunkards at the other end of the bar. "You want to be careful darlin', pretty little thing like you wouldn't stand a chance!" Burning cheeks aflame, Simon thought about storming out but figured that he would be followed by the gales of laughter the barmaid hoped to prompt. He took a pull on his drink and fought the impulse to cut and run. "You at the bar, come here!" The voice came out of the darkness to him. It hadn't shouted, indeed it had hardly seemed loud at all yet Simon was suddenly all nervous attention. "Yes, you, bring your drink over here." Simon did a double take to either side of him and saw the barmaid and her aged retinue looking on with interest. Oh well, he thought, at least I'll be away from that lot. Stepping away from the bar he took a couple of nervous paces towards the booth, finding to his surprise that the booth wasn't dimly lit at all. He'd thought it had been but found this was because of the over bright fluorescent lights in the bar area. Once his eyes had adjusted, he found himself staring at a woman he judged to be in her early thirties. Her complexion glowed with health; piercing blue grey eyes bore into him and distracting him from too intent an inspection. She gestured to the chair opposite hers, on the other side of a paper-strewn table. There was an open box file, gaping wide; Simon presumed it would be filled with the papers, which were covered in neatly hand written notes. As they were upside down to him Simon couldn't read them. He was a little more composed now and was able to take in the woman's softly curled hair. Brunette with a hint of highlighted copper glittered slightly. She wore a black velvet choker from which dangled a small five pointed star, it lines interlinked. He knew there was a specific term for the shape but couldn't bring it to mind, distracted by the glitter from two large stoned rings on her taloned fingers. She paid him little attention, one or two glances whilst she shuffled her paperwork and her notes. Slipping them into clear plastic sleeves then snapping them into the file, the sound like miniature gunfire echoing around the bar. Simon found that he couldn't keep still; he fidgeted and shuffled in his seat. His collar seemed to tighten and he could feel a damp sweat building at the back of his neck. His eyes seemed to have taken on a life of their own, flicking from one ring to the other, to the pendant and back again. Every now and again his eyes would be captured by hers, she'd hold his stare for a brief moment then release his eyes to carry on with their restless journey. At some stage his eyes registered the soft velvet top she was wearing, changing from slate grey to a metallic silver and back again under the lights. The file snapped shut for the final time. The lid of the box file closed and clipped her elegant hands drew the file to her and held it for a moment before Simon felt impelled to look into her eyes. For an everlasting second she held his gaze, he felt invaded, defences being stripped away as the eyes pierced his very thoughts, memories and emotions. Distinctly un-nerved he tried to look away but found himself pinned and held. He could feel a sob building in his throat and fought it down, doing so revealed his very essence to her gaze. Not that Simon knew it at the time. "I know all about you." Her voice freed him for a moment; puzzled and a little afraid he attempted to form a question but failed to find the words. "You will be here at ten o'clock this evening, don't disappoint me." The voice was mellow, untouched by any indication of intent yet it managed to convey an implied threat. "I've a presentation to make," she indicated the box file, "be here at ten o'clock." She stepped up from her chair and picked up a long black trench coat from the back of it. Slipping easily into it she belted it loosely at the waist, Simon was able to see a tight fitting black skirt. When she stepped round the table he noted the high heeled, black patent leather court shoes. A thin gold chain sat loosely above her right ankle. Simon realised that he was standing up and found she was taller than he was, probably even without the heels. He watched her leave the pub, neither hurried nor with any pause. Confidence and arrogance in her steps, certainty and assurance in her manner. Things that Simon envied in his sister and found the same with the stranger. Alone again, he sat back down at the table and stared at his drink, suddenly flat and unappetising, he drank it more for the show of it than any real wish to do so. The barmaid tutted at him when he returned his empty glass to the bar. Feelings of guilt and shame washed through him at the thought of returning later in the evening. He didn't want to but he knew that he would, he knew that he had to return but he didn't know why. *** "So, to summarise, hypnosis, auto-suggestion and false memory syndrome can all have positive applications in the treatment of patients. Memory manipulation and post hypnotic suggestion can be used in behaviour modification and, by the use of trigger words, can be implanted for long term treatment. The more the individual becomes conditioned the greater the degree of modification. Ladies and Gentlemen, I can assure you of the treatments success, social and behavioural conditioning is a positive process and will produce positive long term results." She stepped back from the lectern and shared a knowing look with a woman in the front row. A nod towards the rear doors of the hall and they were walking out together whilst the audience around them spoke to each other. The drone grew as more voices joined in the differing conversations. The two women left the hall together and entered a long corridor. As they walked the sound of their heels resounded and echoed round the walls until they reached the lift. Down to the lobby and to the main entrance door, and then out into the car park. They reached a sleek red sports car, one reaching for the door handle the other standing back a little. "You are certain of this aren't you Amanda?" "Come on Bev! You know I am! It's not my fault the Institute cut my funding before I could complete the trials. If there was any doubt I wouldn't have come tonight." "I just wish you'd take things a little more slowly!" "Alright, I wasn't going to say anything yet but I might as well tell you. Come over to the apartment at eleven, I'll convince you inside of half an hour; you've still got a key so just let yourself in." She got in the car, started the engine, gunned the accelerator and sped from the car park. Within half an hour she was back in her apartment, showered and changing. The bedside clock showed nine fifteen. Just enough time to get there, she wanted to see his reaction on his arrival. Sitting before the dressing table in a matching three-piece lingerie set she did her make up and towel dried her hair before styling it in loose waves. From her wardrobe she took a short, tight fitting sheath dress in shades of blue then slipped her feet into high-heeled ankle boots. In the lounge she placed a tall stool in the centre of the floor under the main light, pushing an armchair a few feet in front of it and next to a small table on which was a clipboard and pen. The drizzle hadn't given up all evening; Simon stood on the opposite side of the road to the pub nervously stepping from one foot to the other. He felt a little bit like a spy in one of those old black and white films, waiting for his contact whilst paranoid over capture. Had Simon been paying proper attention instead of filling his mind with panic and fright he might have noticed the sports car streak passed him and turn into the small car park adjacent to the pub. He'd have seen the woman step lightly from the car and walk over to the entrance door without a backward glance. The bleep of his watch alarm went off, bringing Simon somewhere close to his senses. He was almost mown down by a taxi when he stepped off the kerb to cross the road; he was on the verge of a panic attack. Re-entering the pub with his heart in his mouth, he found it much busier than it had been earlier. He was sorry to see the same barmaid at work but was relieved to be served by a younger girl who didn't give him any cause for concern. He'd tried his best to give himself a tougher look, the bovver boy boots, tight jeans and T-shirt had seemed a good idea at the time, though the boots had taken an age to lace. He might have been able to carry it off if his hair hadn't looked quite so newly washed or a trace of stubble marked his chin and cheeks, yet another unanswered prayer. With his drink in his hand he stood like a little lamb lost. From where she was sitting he was both that and the lamb to the slaughter. So easily read and so easily led, who knows? This might be a lot more fun than I could have hoped for. Her eyes bored into the back of his head, willing him to turn and see her. As if in slow motion Simon's head turned and his eyes met hers, open innocent blue eyes, a gateway to his inner self, the hidden inner self of memory, hopes and dreams. Open to suggestion and therefore open to manipulation. Her lips didn't move, no sound escaped from them yet he heard her words as clear as a bell inside his head. "Come here!" Simon's brain didn't send the command to his feet yet they moved him over to her table. That sensation of being on the edge of control mixed with something akin to terror drew chilled him all the more. Saying nothing, she gestured to the chair and he sat without objection. "You hate your job and you can't get the recognition you feel you deserve. You feel foolish in the company of women and you resent the fact that your Mother keeps you tied to her apron strings. Tell me I'm wrong." Each sentence pounded into Simon's brain, each word and the meaning behind it came to burn in golden letters. Of course if he'd been thinking straight, he would have realised the descriptions could be applied to any eighteen-year-old, they were so general and obvious that he should have picked up on it. She seemed to take his silence as agreement and so continued hitting the target again and again, this time more directly and personally to Simon's mind yet still they remained generalisations. "You don't get paid enough, you want a better place to live, you wish you had more of a social life but you don't know how to go about it. That's about the size of it isn't it Simon?" Simon couldn't remember having told her his name; he'd been listening, so he thought, so attentively in case he missed something. Seeing only her eyes, pendant and the glittering rings. "Don't you just wish you could switch it all off? To give yourself just five minutes so that you can get your thoughts in order? See things from a different view? To find a way to get rid of the self consciousness and the nervousness, to be confident and outgoing instead of being shy and retiring?" Simon nodded dumbly, hardly a movement of his head but his eyes gave the answer for him. "There's no magic wand to wave over you Simon but there are techniques and methods that can help people like you an awful lot." She watched his eyes and face light up with interest, she gave the slightest of smiles, and the first he'd received from her and his eyes widened in surprise and pleasure. What he'd give for another! "Tell you what Simon, I've some books at my place. Would you like to come back with me and have a chat about them? You never know you might find something of interest." Again the small smile, this time it lingered enough to provoke a stammered: "Yes, please!" from Simon. He barely registered the lightning journey to the apartment and he had no idea where he actually was. London is a big lonely place and has plenty of room to get lost, whether you want to or not. She made him a tall drink of some clear liquid that burned his throat on its way down to his stomach. He giggled to himself a little, feeling like a naughty schoolboy doing precisely what Mother had told him not to do. With this comforting thought in mind he tried to pay attention to what she was saying. "According to this book I've been reading, you can use meditation to sort of, tidy up your files, like a filing cabinet full of ideas and memories, you can keep or discard the ones you want. Enhance the nice ones and dispel the bad ones." This all made so much sense to Simon that it didn't take a moments convincing to get him perched on the stool beneath the now dimmed light. "Take a nice long deep breath Simon, long and relaxing, close your eyes and concentrate on my voice, understand?" The more he listened, the warmer and more relaxed he felt. Comforted and guided by the honeyed voice he didn't hear the apartment door open nor did he sense anyone moving into the room. She sat in the armchair opposite Simon and pointed her friend to the sofa. "Dress, file, Amanda." Amanda said holding a finger against her lips to keep Beverly quiet. "Think back to a pleasant time when all around you was warmth and comfort. Perhaps when you were little, the night before Christmas, when you were so excited that you thought you'd never sleep. So tired that the warm bed sent you to sleep so snugly and cosily that the morning soon came." She looked over to her friend and held up crossed fingers. "Do you remember, Simon? Remember when you woke up on Christmas day?" Simon nodded slightly. "What happened when you got downstairs Simon?" A soft voice, though not much softer than his own replied, a child's voice but not much younger than his own. "I went into the dining room and saw all the presents!" Simon gushed then responded to her prompt by opening his eyes. Excitement flickered there, the excitement of a child on Christmas morning. After a few minutes of this she prompted him again. "Who else was there with you Simon?" "Mummy and Suzannah were there, we were all opening our presents." "Did you get everything you had asked for?" "No, I didn't get the racing car I wanted!" Simon's voice registered upset. "Why was that? Had you been naughty?" "Yes, Suzannah had been good and Mummy bought her a new dress." Again she glanced at her friend who was watching intently. "You should have been more like Suzannah then shouldn't you? You should have been a good girl?" Beverly's mouth opened in shock but said nothing, the women watched as Simon wriggled on the stool. Sat there on the stool, Simon 'grew up' in front of them. He told how he'd felt when Suzannah had all the attention at school, she'd had the boyfriends, she'd had the teachers wrapped round her fingers, and she'd been spoilt by Mummy and the rest of the family. Simon was put through the emotional wringer. "Suzannah sounds very sure of herself, Simon, very confident and very assured. Is that how you wish you were?" A whispered, almost a whimper, "Yes." "You know how Suzannah thinks, twins always know how their sister or brother thinks don't they? Do you think you could see life through her eyes?" "I don't know." Simon's voice was almost pained. "Concentrate very hard on Suzannah, Simon; think about her bedroom when you were young. Think about her friends, the way she moved and spoke. The way she dressed and what she wore." Simon shivered and trembled; they could see the concentration on his brow while he built up the layers of remembered imagery. Finally he relaxed and smiled. "Tell me what Suzannah's dress was like that Christmas Simon." Hesitantly at first Simon began to speak, softly lilting, his voice was noticeably lighter, feminine. "It was lovely, dark blue satin with net underskirts and short puffed sleeves. It had a rounded collar with laced edging and there was lace at the cuffs of the sleeves as well." Simon smiled a satisfied smile. Over the next hour Simon was brought up to the present day, this time through Suzannah's eyes. "So your Mother doesn't like you being a model?" "God No! If she knew what I actually model she'd go mad! She thinks I do haute couture so I've had to have photo shoots of me on catwalks, if she saw some of the things I've done she'd disown me!" "What does Simon think of it Suzannah?" "I'm not sure, I don't think it would bother him that much and he wouldn't know what to say about it anyway!" "I want you to go back to that warm cosy bed on the night before Christmas, warm and secure and snug." Once Simon was breathing deeply she turned to her friend, a genuine smile on her face. "Even better than I thought Bev, even better than I'd hoped!" She enthused. "Alright! I'm part convinced, but how are you going prove that the behaviour can be manipulated when he's not in trance?" She smiled, "Simon, I want you to concentrate on my voice, listen very carefully." She paused and took a long silent breath. "So that you become more confident and more self assured I'm going to give you three words to think about. Whenever you hear them you will see through Suzannah's eyes and act and behave just as she would under whatever the circumstance. That is what you want isn't it?" A nodded yes was followed by a vocal one. "Good girl!" Beverly shot Amanda a venomous look for which she received a bright smile. "The three key words are, dress, file, and Amanda. Repeat them for me." "Dress, file and Amanda." Simon's normal voice repeated. "Do you like the dress I'm wearing?" Amanda asked, her voice betraying a trace of excitement. "Yes, the colours suit you but I'd prefer one with shoelace straps." Suzannah's voice replied. "Whenever you feel the need to see the world through Suzannah's eyes you will sense the entire physical form of her. To your own eyes you will appear physically female and you will relish it. The more time you spend as Suzannah, the more you will remember of her. The desire to be more like her will grow and you'll strive to be more like her. You'd like that wouldn't you?" "Yes!" Simon/Suzannah gasped and a bright smile lit his face. "You will want to see me again Suzannah, I'm going to give you a number to call. After you've heard a key word you will ring the number and tell me how you feel. You'd like to see me again wouldn't you Suzannah?" "Yes please!" Amanda gave the number and then smiled in triumph, even Beverly looked pleased to an extent. "I'm going to count down from five to one. When you wake up you will feel wonderfully relaxed and rested. You will only remember the three key words and that you must react to them whenever and wherever you hear them." Amanda gestured to Beverly who left the room, then began counting down. "Five, four, three, two, one and wide awake!" Simon opened his eyes and stared about him, he felt energised when he saw Amanda sitting in front of him. She reached under the table beside her and switched off a small tape recorder beneath the shelf. Rewinding the tape took a while in which time she ordered a taxi for Simon and made him another drink. When he left, she handed him the tape and instructed him to play it each night when he went to bed and each morning before he got up. Back to her cool, calm controlled best Amanda sent him off into the night. With Simon out of the way Beverly emerged from one of the bedrooms and joined Amanda in the lounge. "Correct me if I'm wrong here, but when he plays that tape the first thing he hears will be his keywords. So, from waking he's going to have Suzannah wandering round in his head?" "Until he rings me yes, then I'll talk to "her" for a minute or two then allow Simon to reassert himself." Amanda explained with a smile, going on to explain further. "I'll have him back here tomorrow evening and conduct a session completely with her, placing suggestions. By the weekend "he" will be giving way to "her" virtually voluntarily. Besides, he's bound to hear a keyword in between time so he will adapt to the reaction, eventually he'll give way to her anyway. I'm just going to hurry it along a bit." *** Simon lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling for a few minutes before reaching across to the stereo and pressing the play button. "Dress, file, Amanda." Simon sensed a brief feeling of other worldliness, a shimmer in the air and then he was looking round the badly decorated bedroom with a distinct feeling of disgust. He shivered briefly and sensed the damp feeling sheet beneath his back and over his chest. He threw it back and lay there naked, smiling and stroking "his" body, the smooth curve of the hips and the swell of the breasts, hardening nipples beneath fingertips. When he eventually fell asleep "she" dreamed his dreams for him. Come the morning, when he finally stirred, Simon had a feeling of disorientation for a moment before smiling to himself and rewinding the tape. He hadn't slept that well for a long time and felt he could face the day with renewed vigour. Again the shimmer in time and space and again the haunting horror of the surroundings "she" found herself to be in. Aware that she had to ring someone she hurried from the bed and saw the tangle of hurriedly removed clothes on the floor and tossed over the one chair in the room. "She" padded naked across the room to the phone, knowing she had to ring someone. Her reflection in the mirror as she passed it pleased her; she preened herself, knowing that what she saw in herself others found breathtaking. She dialled the number, not to sure what to expect until she heard a calming voice on the other end of the line. "Alright, take a deep breath, that's right, a long deep breath, suck in all the good air and breathe out the bad. Now then what's the matter Suzannah?" Stumbling over her words and her explanation "Suzannah" tried her best to describe her surroundings and the "loss" of her clothes. "Relax Suzannah, take your time and concentrate on my voice listen to my voice and my voice alone. There is no need to be afraid, no need to worry." "You can always redecorate and of course you haven't lost all your clothes. Even if you had you could go and buy some more couldn't you? You can go to the hairdressers and have your hair styled; you could have a bath and shave your arms and legs. In fact, the next time you hear a keyword that's what you will want to do isn't it Suzannah?" There was a short pause until Suzannah's voice replied with a relieved and thankful yes. "That's a good girl Suzannah, now, ring me later darling and Amanda will be here to help. Five, four, three, two, one, and wide awake. Simon stood looking at the phone in amazement, was he ringing someone or was he answering the call? Looking about himself he noted the place needed decorating, it looked a little tattered after all. Putting on his robe and picking up his toilet bag he headed for the communal bathroom and was pleased to find it vacant. When the bath was steaming with water he stepped in and lay back. Something nagged at the back of his mind, concentrating upon the thought, he brought it forward and then began to smooth shaving cream all over his body, carefully and thoroughly he stripped the light down of hair from his body. When he got to the office he relished the sensation of the air on his hairless legs beneath the suits trousers. Thoughts of redecorating filled his head and he wasn't, if he'd been honest, concentrating on the job in hand when a pile of documents tumbled from his grasp in the administration office. Loud laughter ran round the room and he blushed furiously. "I hope you haven't dropped my files Simon, if it's got dirty I'll give you a right spanking!" A mocking female voice called out. Again came the blurring sensation, a split second later Suzannah snapped back: "The day you spank me is the day hell freezes over!" Silence, sudden stunned silence, the office staff looked from one to the other and back again, then carefully at Simon. For his part Simon was staring at himself from the neck down. What was she doing in a suit for God's sake! More to the point what was she doing in a damned office? Hadn't she always sworn that she'd never work in an office?" Looking round the office she noted and envied the girls and their clothes, make up and styled hair. What the hell was she doing here? She had to ring someone, who? Then fled from the office to a payphone some way up the street. "You are having a strange morning aren't you Suzannah?" Amanda said quietly and calmly. "Take your time and breathe deeply, good girl, that's the way. You have shaved this morning haven't you? Good. Well, how can we make you feel more secure and content? It's not like you to be out of control now is it?" By the time Amanda had finished Suzannah was back to her normal self, content with Amanda's suggestion that she treat herself to some new lingerie." "Five, four, three, two, one and wide awake!" Simon found himself staring at a phone again, idly wondering why he should suddenly have taken it into his head to buy a present for his sister. Was it the done thing for a brother to buy his sister such intimate things? He tried to fight the urge to do so but eventually succumbed. The episode in the boutique had been several kinds of hell and acute embarrassment, even verging on humiliation at times. When he'd finally managed to escape the shop and the smothering matron who served him he hurried back to the office. For the rest of the day he felt suspicious eyes upon him wherever he went, at five o'clock he hurried out onto the street, bags clutched tightly in his hands. He couldn't face waiting for the bus and stuck his hand out for a taxi, being thankful that only four ignored him before one cut into the kerb. He clambered into the back before giving his destination and felt time lurch when the driver asked him for his address. The driver did a double take when she replied but shrugged his shoulders in response and set off into the traffic. "Have you tried your new things on yet Suzannah? Well why don't you do that now? Put the phone to one side get changed and then tell me all about it." And so it went on, the blur of personality, recorded sessions with more and more planted suggestions. During the time Suzannah possessed Simon so the more she dominated his thoughts. His world revolved around doing things for her and seeing life through her eyes. "How long are you going to keep the secret from me Amanda?" Beverly had complained one evening. "For five weeks you've been teasing me, she's shaved her legs, begun to dress, tried make up and had her hair styled. "There is a point to it Bev, you saw the beginning and I want you to see the end result. As it happens your in luck, tonight's the night, in fact, in less than an hour you'll be convinced and you can have all the time in the world with her. I've decided I'm not going to bring her out of the trance" "What! You can't do that! That's almost like murder!" It'd be like killing Simon, well, sort of!" "Look at it this way, Simon is far happier now than he ever was before. Suzannah is much better for him than Simon ever was, besides, its too late "he" only responds as his sister would, her strength overwhelmed his own self, the same way a computer virus converts programmes. Granted I hadn't expected it to happen as quickly but the end result was always going to be the same." "You knew what would happen all along didn't you!" Beverly accused her. "Of course I did! You wouldn't have condoned it so I went ahead myself. Believe me, wait until you see her Beverly, she really is incredible!" There was an uneasy silence for a while until the doorbell rang. Amanda smiled a little nervously at Beverly and tried to reassure her that all would be well. Beverly didn't look convinced. When Amanda led Simon into the lounge he was his normal nervous self though Beverly thought she saw a slight strut to his gait, putting the sole of his shoe flat to the floor before his heel. Introducing Simon to Beverly she smiled at the ever-softening tone of voice. "So Simon, how have things been? Finding things any easier?" Amanda asked kindly, he automatically perched on the stool, when he crossed his legs Beverly noted the manner in which he did it, definitely feminine. "It's been a little strange at times but I'm a lot happier in myself." Simon responded, flicking at his fringe, the blonde hair looking a little longer, tied back at the nape of his neck. "I'm so glad Simon, Beverly, could you pass me that file?" Simon slumped momentarily on the stool then sat up straight, beaming a smile at both Amanda and Beverly. "Hi!" She said brightly. "Hi Suzy, Beverly and I are thinking of going for a drink, fancy coming along?" Suzannah looked critically at herself, Rugby shirt and jogging pants socks and training shoes. "I'm hardly dressed for a night out am I!" She giggled, stepped from the stool and performed a twirl. "You're about the same size as me, borrow something from the wardrobe in the bedroom." Amanda pointed the way through. "Come and chat while I get ready then?" Suzannah giggled and hurried on to the bedroom, surveying the wardrobe contents with interest and approval. Amanda crossed to a chest of drawers and lifted out a parcel. She unwrapped it so Beverly could see the contents. A beautifully cut white lace bra, cups already filled with silicon breast forms. A deep cut matching white lace suspender belt and a matching pair of panties. While Suzannah hummed to herself, holding various garments against her still male clothed body, Amanda had Beverly smear an extra strong glue to the back of the breast forms. When Amanda was satisfied with the thick adhesive coverage she called Suzannah over to her and handed over the parcel. "Oh Amanda! Are you sure? They're beautiful!" Suzannah enthused. "Of course, come on girl, get moving!" Suzannah showed no shyness and was soon standing naked before both of them. Beverly saw a male body entirely stripped of hair; Suzannah's skin glowed with health and looked incredibly soft and toned. Without an inkling of self-consciousness Suzannah began to dress, first the bra, the adhesive gripping on contact. She cupped her breasts and giggled, fastening and smoothing the straps. Amanda handed her a pair of sheer stockings, black with a glossy sheen. As natural as any woman Suzannah smoothed them up her legs to her thighs, gasping in pleasure at the whispered touch. She clipped suspender belt straps tautly on the stocking tops then accepted the proffered panties. Beverly watched in surprise when Suzannah pushed her manhood back between her legs before easing on the tight fitting lace knickers. She chose a sleeveless Lycra mini dress which reached mid thigh, clinging to her figure like a second skin. To Beverly's eye the change was more than astonishing. Suzannah removed the hair tie, pushed back her hair with a black elastic hairband, and sat in front of the dressing table. She took her time doing her make-up and was eventually satisfied, once Suzannah had brushed and styled her hair Beverly's mouth gaped in astonishment. The longer length of blonde hair brushed Suzannah's shoulders lightly and curled under into an enchanting bob. Suzannah turned to Amanda and gave a sexy little wink. "Don't I brush up well!" She giggled; pouting her frosted pink glossed lips and blowing them both a kiss. Beverly watched transfixed when Suzannah stepped into a pair of stiletto heeled shoes then sat back down and painted her manicured nails in the same shade of frosted pink as her lips. Amanda fussed about in the drawers and filled a small clutch bag with cosmetics and a small hairbrush. "Here you are Suzy, try these." Amanda handed Suzannah a pair of cascading waterfall earrings that glittered in the light. Suzannah squealed in delight and clipped them onto her ears. She borrowed a ladies evening watch and slipped it to her right wrist adding a thick heavy silver bangle to her left. From a selection offered she selected a thin silver chain with a shining stone pendant that sat just above the sweetheart neckline of her dress. Her finished look was, to Beverly's eyes, incredible; no trace of the Simon she'd once met remained. Suzannah lit up the room and once out on the town she flirted and captivated in equal measure. She was deep in conversation with a new friend when at last Beverly was able to have a quiet word with Amanda. "You're right Amanda, she is simply stunning! Switching her off would be as wrong as I thought you had been with Simon. I never thought she'd be as amazing as she is!" Amanda smiled to herself; the cat had got the cream. "Can you go and rescue her from that young man?" Amanda pointed to where Suzannah was leading the man in question to a quiet corner. Beverly smiled then laughed, "I really didn't think you could do it you know!" Amanda smiled in return, saying nothing, just thinking to herself, "Darling, if it worked perfectly well with you, so why wouldn't it work with her?"