Best Of Enemies 6-7: Start With A Split Personality free porn video

Best of Enemies 6-7: Start with a Split Personality By Ron Dow75 6: How Do You Trump a Supergirl? The teen who'd started the day alone in the woods with a father who was determined to, finally, make a man of him, now found herself looking up into the face of a neighbor who held her up off the floor in her strong arms. "Curr... Curry, what are you doing?" the teen said in a voice so gentle, she had to remember to put power into it. "What you think I'm doing." Curry Nestor's head seemed almost wider than it was long, with large hazel almond eyes over very high cheekbones. It was a cat's head. Her deep tan only reinforced that impression. But no domesticated cat had her coppery hair done with a bang on one side, and a braid pinned up on the other. Her small, flat head only emphasized her extravagant curves. Especially, the size D that was on one of Carla's C's, "I don't know a lot of things. Ask anybody!" Like how girls can stand wearing these bras. Her body wanted to separate her firm boobs; the satin bra wanted to push them towards each other. "One is you don't know how to hide your interest in girls," said the Amazon who seemed like she'd be nude, if it weren't for her multi-colored veils. This morning the teen was in hunter's camouflage. "And, uh, you do?" Now, barefoot, she was prey in a blouse and skirt of blue and gray. She even had a sheer green scarf tied around her neck. Her mulberry-tinted lips smiled briefly at Carla, before her eyes flicked down below the face. "Most the time." A sphincter muscle that she'd never had to think about tightened more. Carl's finger moved to loosen the scarf around her long neck. "Is it getting warm in here?" "I've already gotten there." "Then, don't you want to let me go? Separate? Put some distance between us?" She didn't laugh; she didn't chuckle. "Why would I want that?" "Well, be... because we'll make us hotter and sweatier." Even Carla's bare legs were not much cooler. "There anything wrong with that?" "We'll be sticky and uncomfortable." "Sticky and uncomfortable isn't the problem." "But I'm already..." the teen noticed an area that had been unimportant before today. "I... I have to-See you!" And before Curry knew it was happening, her arms were empty. She pulled air, until she found herself on the floor. +++ "I've never had a girl chase me before! And the only reason she's doing it is because I'm not me at all!" The Nestor's rather roomy orange with red trim bathroom had shower stall that was mostly hidden by the gloss-urethane cabinet with sink that had a large mirror and narrow cupboards up its sides. This sink/vanity was before the toilet stall. The toilet lid opened automatically. Carla unwrapped her arms from around her boobs. She didn't think to step on tiles that raised the toilet seat. She was in such a hurry she lifted the seat almost at the same time she thumbed down her black, lacy satin panties while she lifted her gray pleated skirt. She looked down, only to see the blouse jut out to block her view; she looked up and away. There wasn't anything left she could hold, even as semi-erect as it was. "C'mon. Don't girls squirt?" Not this one. "Oh: Stupid! That's why girls sit down." She turned around, and sat down. "Shee! Even sitting feels different." She didn't have the same kind of skeleton down there; she seemed to have more muscle in the thigh, but that was within soft, smooth- Carla decided that if she took inventory off all the new sensations that were starting to get through her agitated mind, she would be there for a long time. And while she waited, she felt the entrapment of satin where there should've been cotton. She lowered the damp panties past her knees. "Super-Brain? Didn't you say something about me not having to do this for a week? Super-Brain?" Carla waited for it to answer. It didn't. "Must be thinking of how to invent something to get Mr. Lewis his hog back." Left with just her own intelligence, Carla thought of what might be the delay. "When I was me, I had to open something up... only it was, up and, uh, behind. As a girl, it's down, between the legs." It sounded simple; but just thinking about her opening something that she didn't want to have to open made her want to clench. "Oh..." she said at last in frustration. "If I can't do it by remote, I'll do it manually." Besides, there was some... inflation in the way. So she put a finger- "What are you doing in there?" Curry's alto asked from the other side of the door. Carla jumped (her boobs most of all) without leaving the toilet seat. "Nothing! Nothing: I wasn't doing..." Oh, God's Looking, she was doing something! She thought, fully aware, now, of what the signals were saying. (Clench.) Had been saying. Now, she was so shamefully uptight- "She's doing something in there?" Carla's-No (she doesn't know it was him in this body), not Carla's, but Carl's sub-sib Deborah asked, sister of his step-mom. "Why should you care?" "Why!? I'm told she's going to be rooming with me!" Deborah had no problem putting strength behind her clear soprano voice. She was? Nobody had told Carla, yet. The thought being in the same room with Deborah in her nightie (maybe something see- through), again, made her- "If you don't want her, she can stay with me." Clench: Well, so much for relaxing. Deborah told her, "If it were up to me, you could have her-to keep!" "Thank you," Curry accepted the offer. Carla found her soprano voice, "Now, wait a minute! Who said I wouldn't rather be with Deborah!" "What!!?!" Deborah challenged. Carla rose up off the seat to say, "I, I, I mean, I want to live at home! My-Carl's home!" The teen was even lousier under pressure. "'My Carl'??" Curry misheard. Deborah heard only Curry, "I told you she was a weirdo." "Do you think that the kind of treatment turns her on?" "Hey!! There was nothing wrong with how Carl treated girls! He was just misunderstood!" Carla was saying even before her speed took her to the door. The two girls (one in a step-in check print) lowered their eyes to the black, lacy and satiny panties that'd slipped down to one ankle. "Bimbo," Deborah frowned. "Bimbo," Curry didn't frown. "Oh, man!" Carla quickly reached down, stepped into and pulled up the panties. It was a blur, but it was also in a very unladylike fashion. The girl in the nearly see-through veils said, "Can you imagine what a girl with speed like that could do?" She seemed to be doing just that. "Yes!" Deborah said, feeling to make sure her buttons were closed. "I'm not going to do any of that as a girl!!" Carla said, before realizing she was wearing a skirt, not pants. She took her hands from the skimpy panties with and next to the damp crotch. Deborah cried, "I can't live with her! I wouldn't be safe! Nobody would! Forget about sin, let her shack up with Carl!" And she walked away from them, "Let them burn together!" Curry said, "Carl'll love your fast hands. Guys like it over and done with. That way, they can get on with important things. Like sports." "Carl wasn't like that!" Carla insisted. "Well, not the traditional sports. Chasing girls is more his favorite pastime." "Why does everybody have to say things about, about..." Curry put a hand out to her, "If you're going to be, uh, his girlfriend(?), it's better to know what to expect." Carla took that hand, and said, "Listen," as she looked past her. Deborah had left the hallway, and gone out of sight. Still she drew Curry into the bathroom. "Close the door. I have to tell you something." "This is encouraging," the girl proud bosom said, doing as asked. The dark brunette was pacing to and back in front of her, "I can't tell Deborah this; she wouldn't understand! Sin! If it has anything to do with Carl, she wouldn't understand on purpose! Dad didn't understand, but I still have a shot with him. If I can get him and the family to get it, then we can do something about him! Maybe even save the world!" "'Him'? Carl? He's a threat to... Well, that's conceivable. Why be engaged to the menace, then?" "It's the only way my Super-Brain could think of to stay close to him." "Your 'super brain'?" Curry raised one of her thick eyebrows. "It came with this superbody." "It is a super body," Curry let herself study it. Unlike herself, nothing was extreme. The face was cute, and familiar, despite the a somewhat indeterminate ethnicity; the body was well proportioned (though with nice, perfect C cups), and almost the height a woman should... The lightly tanned girl came back all the way, "That's because it's not human- He's not human! He's an alien: That's why this body has its powers!" She stood so close her boobs were practically underneath Curry's inch-and-a-half longer ones. Curry was having difficulty following what was being said, "Okay! What powers? I mean, beside that speed of yours." "I don't know them all! I just got this body! She switched bodies with me!" "'She'??" "Carl!" She practically had her neck between Curry's size-D cleavage that was exposed left, right, in the middle and down to her waist. "Carl is 'she'?" "The alien! Carl is the alien-In my body! This is the alien's body! I'm Carl!" the strange girl said, stepping away for better presentation. "'Carl is an alien'. Okay. But why would you want to be Carl?" "I don't want to be Carl: I am Carl!" "You're doing a good imitation of him. But you're a girl." "That's because she made me a girl: This is an alien body!" "I know my body can feel alien; especially-" Carla ran a hand through the hair above her forehead, "Where's my Super-Brain when I need it?" "Something happened to your 'super brain'?" Curry crossed her arms under her chest. Carla dropped her hand from her head, and almost started pacing again, "It promised your dad it'd solve his problem with Mr. Lewis. I think my Super-Brain can only work on one super-problem at a time." "Believe it or not, I can understand that. When Poppers is lost in his work, Edda and I have to treat Poppers like a kid. He'd end up in the hospital with malnutrition and sleep deprivation- even exposure, if it weren't for us." Carla looked straight at the girl, "That must be why aliens come with two brains. One super, and one not." "And you're the one that's not?" "Yes!" Carla lit up. "And so's the one in my body! I have a chance against her! Even without the Super-Brain it left behind!" "There probably wasn't room inside Carl's head anything else. There's barely enough room for what little brains he does have." "Hey! I told you I was really Carl: So stop insulting me!" "If you're really Carl, you would be used to it by now." Curry's tone changed, "It's too obvious you have an identity problem. But it's the same as mine. Gender identity. You're not comfortable being a girl. So, I'm going to help." She tackled Carla before she knew what was happening. "What are you doing?!!" Carla cried as the larger mass of hot flesh pressed her against the tile floor. "Fight me! Attack me! Make me think you might hurt me!" It was Carla's turn to have trouble focusing: "What!!?!" her arms fell back, her hands open. "I'm booby-trapped!" Carla bent her head, and looked at the boobs compressing her smaller ones. "Poppers did it!" "He made them that big?" Carla was acting as Carl would, if a girl landed on him. "He was worried that they'd kidnap us to get to him and his stuff. So: He rigged us!" Carla almost threw her off, "You explode!?!!" "Of course not!! I re-order your emotions!" "Re-what??!" "The strongest emotion you're feeling is turned upside down." "My strongest emotion-I thought you wanted me to like girls!" "Negative emotion! Bad into good; hate into love! We just have to make sure you hate being a girl, when-" Carla reacted to the goosing with a super-spasm that sent her sliding all the way into the toilet stall. Curry fell flat onto her belly. She raised herself enough to look at the girl behind the swinging door, "How did you do that? And why did you do that: The idea is to get me back-do something that'll trigger the signal to the nanites." At the word, "Nanites!?!" Carla sat bolt upright. "Nanites are micro-" "I know what they are! What are you doing with sci-fi robots!?!" Curry smiled, and got up on her knees, like a cat before a mouse, "They're not as sci-fi as you think. Already the Army's putting them in uniforms to filter everything but air. They have invisible-" "Nestor is a mad scientist!!" Carla cried, using hands on toilet and wall to launch herself. Curry rose up on her knees to be in her way. Carla used the stall jamb to flip herself up over Curry. Jumping off of the ceiling, she aimed for the bathroom door. She broke through. "Come back!" the alto called from the other side of the splintered wood. "I'm just trying to let you be happy being a girl!" Her gray pleated skirt flapping: "And stay a girl forever!?! That's what Super-B warned me about!!" the soprano yelled back, speeding down the hallway towards- With great coincidence and practically perfect timing, green crew cut Carl bounced off the wall so close to Carla she had a chance to knock him over as he fell back off of it. Instead, she picked up the teen body that was six inches taller, and did a one-eighty. One hand on the scruff of his frayed navy sweater, the other on the back of his jeans, she rushed her once (-and-future) body back down the hall. "If you like being a girl, then you'll want to switch us back!" Carla said. She stopped to throw Carl through the opening in the bathroom door. The nearly buff naked Curry was just coming through herself. She screamed, as the lecher struck her full on. Both of them went far into the bathroom. Carl didn't stop his tumbling until the back of his head hit the toilet stall's swinging door. The door mechanism was now damaged. It did not swing. "Ow!" Carla slapped what door was around the gaping hole as she leaned in: "Well!? Well?!" she demanded. "How long does the mind change to take!?!" "Damn it!" Curry said hitting the tile floor as she sat up on it. "It doesn't work that way! She leaned further in (and felt her boobs trying to leave the bra), "But you said the little invaders take over and force you to think like a girl!" (Rubbing the back of his head, Carl sat on the floor with a good view of Curry's mostly bare back, wondering what science fiction show they were role-playing.) "You really do think like a guy: You don't listen! It would change you, because you are hung up on gender issues!" "So...I have to get the alien to hate being a girl??" She arched her back (her boobs flattening, the cups getting looser) "But she's me: A guy! She's not a girl! She stopped her arching (her boobs fitting the bra, again), "Wait a minute...!" and stood more correctly, "She was a girl! She could've stayed a girl, but she didn't!" Carla stared over Curry at Carl, "That's why you took my body from me!" Carl leaned forward, and said to Curry, "This alien mouse captured her, and erased her memory." "Alien mouse?" Curry said. "An alien mouse is something only on cartoons!" Carla stepped forward. Curry was now in the way, her face near the gray skirt. Carl leaned backwards, "I was the first one she saw after that. I think it's called imprinting, or something." "Imprinting would mean she liked you," Curry told him. "Then she must like me. She just keeps forgetting." Carla screamed, "Like you!!?" (Curry had just enough time to lay back as Carla rushed over her.) "You had to come to Earth, looking for somebody to like you! That's it, isn't it!! If there's anybody who needs to have their brains unscrambled, it's you! "Curry!" Carla said, looking around. Then down. "What are you doing?" she frowned. "Looking up your skirt." Carla was reminded how damp her crotch was. She hopped her left leg to the floor beside Curry. Her woman's butt bumped against the cabinet with the sink in it. Hopping up on it, Carla pointed, and said, "Sic him!" That direction made Carl look at Curry. Who reluctantly looked past Carla's legs, "I do not "sic"." She sat up again, spinning around on her butt. "Now, if he attacked me, that's different." (Carl held up his hands as he shook his head.) "He did attack you! I threw him at you!" Carla then turned on Carl. "Why didn't you change?!" "Variables," Curry told her. "The main is I don't think he was very negative about crashing into me." "Why not!?! You turn me off!" "I do?" Then, Curry smiled. "Great! The more you fight me, the more we can be more than just friends." And she rose up on her knees. "I never thought I'd have to say this, but: I hate aggressive girls!" Carla said, scooting towards the sink, while lifting an arm and a leg to fend her off. "That'll change, too." And she ran a finger along her smooth leg. With a loud yelp, Carla jumped off of the cabinet top, and nearly onto Carl, barely taking notice of the jouncing and bouncing. She reached down, and held him up in front of her, "This is who you want! This is her body! You just have to make her want it back!" "I don't know how to switch bodies!" Carl told them, not yet taking the threat as serious. Carla said, " ' You going to believe an alien body-snatcher?!" Curry leaned a forearm on the cabinet top as she reached out to graze Carl, "Interesting, if he could become you: All those strong negatives waiting to become strong positives. I've made some girlfriends-Oh! None as pretty as you," she quickly "assured" Carla. "But they were always girls. Poppers hasn't figured out how emo-trons can strengthen positives." "He hasn't?" Carla didn't like the sound of that. What kind of mad scientist was he, if he couldn't do a little thing like that with his micro-robots?! "I don't think Poppers actually invented the emo-trons. He seems to prefer to tinker with our special underwear." Carl's interest perked up, "Special underwear?" Curry stood up, her eyes back on Carl, "Are you going to be around him much?" "Yes!" Carla told her, holding him up even higher in front of herself. "I have to keep an eye on my body! The stupid alien might do something to wreck it!" "Well, then...I guess I'm going to have to do it in self-defense. Any change has got to be an improvement." And she leaned against the cabinet top, "I might even begin to like him. Platonically. "...or not." " "Or not"?" Carl's ears picked up. It sounded promising. Carla told the guy still raised up in her hands, "She means you might get lucky-once you're a babe!" "Babe?? I can't be a babe. Only guys like-" Suddenly, Carl took the threat seriously. +++ He could hear a commotion from outside. It was still just a commotion by the time fair-skinned 5'10", 170 lb teen had opened the front door. "What's going on?" The golden hair that came down towards his shoulders could almost be imagined to be naturally curly. He had on a fairly tight scoop-necked vertically white- and-peach striped pullover, loose denim shorts, and sandals. His legs, like the rest of him, were hairless. "Deborah, I asked what's going on?!" The pretty brunette in the small check step-in dress and a school backpack had a large suitcase raised as if she were ready to run it into him, if she had to. "The short version is this wacko girl wants to be Carl so much, she's ready to marry him. But it looks like she wants to be the husband!" "What??" Edison blinked his long eyelashes. Unlike his sister, his head was on the square side, though, he too, had high cheekbones. "What's not to understand?" Deborah paused long enough to actually threaten him with the suitcase (Edison moved away from the doorway). "If the girl is Carl, then Carl has to be the girl!" And with that, she exited the house. Edison watched her leave under a full head of steam. The Irish tenor said, "She is so mad she forgot to use prepositions." But from the commotion: Couldn't you have waited to strip him until after I broke into Edda's room!?!" 7: What Do You Do with the Extra Identity? "The return of lunch," Carla's turned up her nose at the pasty, gangly-stage boy with more hair one his arms and legs than on the torso above his orangey pubes. "Is that what I look like from the outside?" The green crew cut haired boy down on the tile floor, with his hands now firmly over his groin said, yelled back, "It's not yours, you alienated spacebrain! And if you don't like, why do you want it?!" "That's right," Curry said, peeking from behind Carla's shoulder (her warm tan boobs close to them). "Edda's got a better body." "It's still better than this body." But what a choice, she thought. The asymmetrically braided copperhead looked down as far as Carla's bust would allow, "No, it isn't!" "No, it isn't!" Carl cried, looking up and trying to focus beyond the bust. "Then, if you two like it so much-" Suddenly: "Curry!!" Edison yelled so loudly that both Carla and Carl were given a fright. "What on Earth has happened here!?!!" "Edda!" Curry cried. "No!" Carla turned to tell the sister. She was already turned around. She barely caught the partially veiled girl by her bare arm, "Don't! This is not-" "I thought you were beginning to understand-" No time for justifications: The wider teen's tackle sent her and Carla stumbling over Carl. Edda, in shorts and a thin pullover, landed on top of the very naked Carl. Carl's scream was blood curdling this time! Behind the now busted door of the toilet stall: "Get off of me, too!!" Carla yelled, shoving Curry so hard she almost found her feet. Almost: She landed front on back, head on butt on top of Edda on top of Carl. Carl stopped most of his screaming, because most of his air was squashed out of him. "Curry!" Edda yelled, raising up, throwing his sister off of his broad back. "It is because of things like this I have to have bulky muscles!" Curry managed a seamless tumble that took the nudist with the streaming veils out among the splinters of the bathroom's core door. When she could speak, her tone wasn't as accusing: "And that's why I do have-Ow! That's the problem fighting in the buff!" Carla had used her speed to stand up: "Edison! This is not the time for one of your fights with your sister!" she declared, as she tried to adjust the bra under her light blue blouse. "Most any time is a good time for attacking Curry!" the guy in loose shorts said, unstraddling Carl as he rose to his own feet. He ended up in front of the shower stall door. "I told her about the emo-trons," Curry said to him, as she ran her hands along the back of her thighs, looking for any more sharp pieces of wood. "See!?!" Edda told the stranger. Then, twisting around towards Curry, "Why did you tell her?!" Finding no more wood under her, Curry used the hall wall to help her stand up, "She likes girls." "I thought most girls liked girls?" "Don't be dense! She likes girls like I like girls." "And you wanted to change that??" Edda now returned his gaze on the new girl. "I would have thought she was just your type." "Hey! Stop looking at me!" Carla told him, reacting more to him, than she had to his sister. "Ye, yeah," Carl got out with the air he was getting back in his lungs. Carla stepped on his hairless chest, "He's not looking at you!" The action brought a flicker to Edison's gaze. Carla shuddered. That brief glance on Carl was different from the way he was looking at her, she now realized. It was more like how Curry would look at her. Curry was ready to push off the hall wall, "I told her about the emo-trons because she doesn't like being a girl!" Edda tried to absorb this, "Wait a minute: She doesn't like being a girl??" "Stop looking up my skirt!!" Carla cried: She's the reason she was wearing damp panties! She kicked Carl away from her. Instead of launching herself at her brother, Curry rushed forward to prop up the naked Carl. "I got you." Despite everything that had and was happening, a good-as-naked girl was still a good-as-naked girl: "Oh, no!..." Carl groaned, pressing his hands even harder against his groin. It was one thing after another for Edda: "What in the..." One hand pulling down on the hem, the other still trying to get the bra right, Carla said, "She wants to like him, now." Her lips curled at the thought. Edda saw the naked and scrawny teen, and wondered, "Physically!??" "No, not physically," Curry looked disgusted at the thought. "Or psychologically, either! Not as he is now. That's why I'm going to turn him into another you!" "No way!!" Carl cried, jerking away from the girl who being as good as naked was not good enough. He no longer had a problem keeping his hands in place. He fell into the arms of Carla, "Then he'll want to get out of that body and into this body! And I can be a guy again!" "Uh, into that body... Would it not be simpler to just readjust your own psychology?" Edda asked, pulling Carl away from the girl. Feeling even more naked, Carl yelped, and ran into Curry, blocking his escape. She frowned at her brother, "It's a favor." And she turned him around, and pushed him to the strange girl. "He'll be the perfect example of what "the treatment" produces." Carl stopped inches short of the cute girl who wanted his body. She stared him in the eye, saying, "Edison's happy. And he doesn't have a "better body" to switch into." Carl backed away in horror. He realized he was about to bump into a body; he snapped his head around to stare over his shoulder at Edison. Edda hung his permed head. "I see. You want to dress him in some of my ensemble, and hope he gets so violent about it that Curry's Kelvin cline triggers the emo-trons." Carla said, "Er... that sounds like the complete summary." To which Carl cried, "But what does it mean!?!" Edda glanced up at Carl before looking away, to shuffle towards the hole in the bathroom door. "It means anybody who makes one of us feel threatened will no longer be a threat." Curry moved away from the- Edda thrust out a smooth leg, knocking his defined muscled sister all the way back against Carla. "Remember!" he called out to the girl back on the floor under the mostly nude girl, "Hurt Curry, and you will not want to hurt her again!" He, then, grabbed totally naked Carl, and yanked him after him. "I don't want to go with you!!" Carl screamed. While Carla yelled, "Get off of me!!" Curry forced her legs around as much of Carla as they could, while she held onto her wrists. "Make me," she smiled a toothy challenge. "I have superpowers!" Carla warned. "Great! I ought to really feel threatened, then." +++ "Let go of me: You can't make me go with you!!" Actually, Carl found out that Edison could: He was stronger than he looked. Or Carl was weaker than he liked to think he was. "I don't want to become like you!! I don't want to be a girled-up guy!!" "I do not want you to be one, either!" Edda said in all seriousness as he struck a portion of his bedroom door with an open palm. Instead of swinging like any ordinary door, this one slid into the wall. Carl saw this was his last chance! He had to take his remaining hand away from his groin. But in the change from trying to pull away to striking out, Carl nearly lost his footing and flew in as Edison pulled him through with a sharp jerk. "I am trying to save you, you know." While Carl used his hands to find his balance again, the door slid shut and locked as soon as Carl was through. "For what!!?" The room was not quite what Carl had expected. There was a sand colored area rug with a tan Pegasus in the middle. Just missing it was a white upholstered cypress chaise lounge that still managed to look Greco-Roman. A matching ottoman was near its foot on one side, a short column on the other near its head. Marble-looking plaited drapery hid the posts supporting the white gossamer canopy. Textured white on a different shade of white with pastel accents pillows, cushions and stuffed horses were arranged on the white cover on the blue sheets; off near the foot was a notebook pc. In the narrow space on the bed's left was a black glazed urn with Greek nudes. A marble tile across the mouth allowed it to be used as a nightstand (with a small, antique- looking pendulum clock, and a box of Kleenex), with a gap left for flowers. To the right of the bed was an "alter" of some inlaid dark cypress. It was a desk with a white padded curved-x chair. The neat marble top had very little on it: a wrought iron lamp that looked like it could be used to burn small offerings; a small Greek vase with pencils, scissors, and such, as well as incense sticks; a small statue of Zeus that was at the moment was holding open a school book (a notebook was next to it) on the marblized desk top. But it was also a vanity, as evidenced by the three-panel mirror off to the side. A jewelry box was at its edge of the desk. A matching narrow cabinet of drawers next to it could hold makeup. In the right corner near the door was an art station. Around an easel was cluster of columns and urns of different sizes, canvases and art paper pads standing up between them. As if still lifes, various art supplies were in vases and other containers (though some were just laying) on top of the pedestals and tiles. But all of that was not what first took Carl's attention. There was enough space between the bed and short cypress bookcase on the end of the desk-vanity was the built-in closet door. It was painted to look like a Greek column. The columns continued all the way around, turning the room into a temple. "Beyond" the row of columns was the world of mythology: Among the green hills and rocky cliffs of dusk were centaurs and Hercules, Orpheus and satyrs, the Minotaur and Cretan youths, and Greek gymnasts and the Gorgons. Medusa and her sisters were the only females to be seen besides Hera. The Queen of the Gods and Mercury were the only finished figures on the sky blue ceiling. They and the room were lit by the indirect lighting from the temple capitals. And near the left corner, between the door and the cypress chest at the foot of the bed, was a life-size statue. Carl did not recognize the figure (truth to tell, he didn't recognize most of the mythological references), but he knew that there was something wrong with it. It was wearing clothes. It had on a dark blue watchman pullover cap, an open pea coat, and a blue-collar shirt. There was no way to put pants on it, as the feet were part of the base. But what made its anatomical correctness worse was that the whole male statue had been painted in a ruddy flesh- tone, with dark brown hair. Edda was already past the statue and headed for the chest at the foot of the bed. "I have some completely male clothes here you may like." "With pants!?!" Carl was afraid he knew the answer as he took his eyes off of the statue. He opened the chest: "Yes, with pants," Edda said, a little exasperated that he had to assure him. "You cannot leave the house without pants, now can you?" "That's the idea, isn't it!?!" He had put his hands back over his groin. "Take my pants, and I can't leave!" "That was not my idea. That was that girl's idea." He pulled out a pair of jeans. "Curie was trying to use you to get to her." Carl had been looking around, and the first place he could think to hide behind were the stuff next to the easel. "She sounded like she was getting into the idea, to me." Edda turned to see him trying to squeeze behind a bellybutton high column with two-tiered glass candy dish with pastel chalk in it. "If she did, it was because she thought you'd stop bothering- watch it!" The dish was knocked off, spilling the pastels; and, when Carl tried to catch it, so was the column. The capital was a lid, but nothing had time to spill out as it briefly hinged before almost shutting again, open side down. "I didn't mean to: Honest! I was just-" He remembered was he'd been trying to do. "Not the urn!" Carl bumped, but stopped in time. It had a vase with charcoals, a soft piece of gray gum, and a varnished rod. Under the tile, the urn itself had naked men wrestling. "Not the urn!" And he rolled around it. He stopped only to avoid the easel. He snatched up the canvas, and put it down in front of the only area he considered as really naked. On the canvas was a charcoal display of Hercules's muscles, from his shoulders to his hamstrings. Edda let the lid of the chest drop, and sat down on it with the jeans. "There is a larger canvas over there," he motioned with his head. Slowly, wary of a trick, Carl turned his head until he saw the canvas that was leaning against the longest and last of the columns (this one had an arrangement of cans on it). "You can hide behind that while you put on the pants," Edda told him. "It is blank." Still careful, Carl reached back for it while he tried to keep an eye on guy who didn't look right. He found he had to take a couple of steps. He stretched for them, trying to put more of himself behind the canvas he did have. As quick as he could, he placed the larger canvas over the smaller. Edda winced, "I have not sprayed it with a fixative, yet." When Carl checked on the smaller canvas, he finally realized what was on it. On its way face towards the column, Edda saw that it had indeed been smudged; but it wasn't as bad as it could've been. +++ Edda held up the jeans, while Carl inched forward. It was hard to use the canvas as a shield when there was no handle. But he managed at last to take the pants, and, then, back away. Feeling more comfortable now that he was putting on pants, Carl said, "What is with this room?" "What is wrong with this room?" "Well, I expected more...pink, for one." He was distracted, he was stepping on one pants leg while trying to pull it up; he almost fell. Worse, he almost knocked over the canvass. "If you had paid any attention to me, you would know I do not wear pink." "I guess I've never paid you any attention." Not that kind. "Yes," Edda almost sounded like he sighed. "Any fussing I do about my appearance is usually lost on most of the guys." "Most of?" Carl at last pulled up the pants to where they couldn't go any higher. "You are one of the "most of"s." "That, I know!" Carl said, zipping. "Do not tell me you are so inattentive that you have not noticed our little group?" Carl snapped his pants on, and said, "No offense, but it's easier to be "inattentive"." "That is quite understandable. Most of our little group where, once, those who could not do inattentive." " "Once"...." Carl thought of something that had bothered him for a while, "Is Sally Anne Biggins really one of you?" "True to character," Edda smiled, keeping it dainty. He thought it would be okay to move, now. He got off the chest so that he could open it again. "If you are going to think of us, think of the girl. Then you do not have to think of us." He pulled out a red plaid wool shirt. "Yes, Sally Anne is one of us." Carl thought of it as he brought his arms around his torso, "How can she be one, when she isn't one? A guy, I mean. Or is she so good at it I just think she's really a girl?" "Oh, she is a true and real female-type girl, alright," Edda held out the shirt. Carl was still puzzling it over, "What does that make her, then?" "It makes her unlucky," Edda said, still with the shirt. "It does?" Carl had felt a skip of hope in his heart. "It does!" Edda threw the shirt over Carl. "The emo-trons are totally binary; it is either on or off." Carl pulled the wool shirt from off his head, "But, if she likes guys, then I have a shot with her!" "Only if you go on a double date," Edda said, going over to the chaise. He allowed himself to put some hip in his saunter now that he was in his own area. "A double date? How am I going to do that!? I have a hard enough time getting a single date!" He started putting on the wool shirt, "Unless it's a mutual killjoy situation-Does one of her girl friends have to come along?!" "You really do not want to see it," Edda said, sitting back on the chaise, one bare knee up. "The Group are her girl friends. And your first date with Sally Anne would not be with her." "It would not be?" He continued putting the shirt on. "To prove to Sally Anne's reconfigured hypothalamus that you are somebody she could be interested in, you would first have to date one of us." "Us?" Carl said. "Us!?!" he got his right arm bent and caught in the sleeve. "Now, you have started to see it," Edda said under a grim smile. "I, I have to become like you!?!" He struggled to push his arm down the sleeve, "I just escaped from that!! You helped me! You said you didn't want me to-" The arm only became more firmly stuck. "Not like us!!" Edda sat upright on the lounge chair. "What do you think!?! That we are lesbians, or something?!" "Ye- Les...." It took a few seconds for Carl (pausing in his struggle with his sleeve) to interpret what that meant in this context. "...You're not?" "We, are, not," Edda said adamantly, rising up out of the chair. "We like men-Real men. Men who act like men." "Men who like men who act like girls?" Carl asked, thinking that was the next logical sentence. Edda was now standing close enough to stare down on the smaller teen. He did. And as he did, he said, with a tone of utter seriousness, "We like to think we are girls who have to act like men!" "Even Sally Anne?" Edda thrust out his manicured hands-before Carl could get away- and pulled Carl's trapped arm out of his sleeve, one hand on the wrist, the other on the shirt. Carl looked at the arm freed from both the sleeve and, now, Edison's grip. "Thanks." It was one simple expression for one simple act. It was said, or so Edda imagined, just like a man would say it to his wife. Edda watched the scrawny, pasty-skinned teen make sure he put his arm in the sleeve in the correct fashion. He didn't have any size to him; he didn't even have any hair, to speak of. Carl was definitively not his type. Edda closed his eyes, trying to remember how Carl should seem to him. It had just been a fantasy flash. He had them often enough: The world was the forbidden fruit, and he was a worm in it. Carl asked, "Well? What about her?" "What about who?" Edda was still distracted. "Who!? Sally Anne!" "You are still interested in her!? Why?!" he at last opened his eyes. "I sometimes wonder why I most go for the weirdoes, too," Carl was finishing up the buttons. "It has to be something deeply troubling, psychologically: Probably having to do with how and why my mother died. Plus, too, there's this terrible, and shameful unrequitable love I feel." "So, you are punishing yourself by falling in love with people who cannot return your love?" "Or, perhaps, anybody's love," Carl shrugged. "What if I'm Don Quixote, and on a quest to bring a dream to those wide awake?" "Lovely words. What do they mean?" Carl set the large canvas aside. "Mean? I don't know. The more I have to talk, the less I know what I'm saying. I think it's all those speeches people give me. If they do it, I have to make speeches, too." "Don't you have something less scratchy?" "A real man can take it. Sally Anne likes them rough and tough." "Oh," Carl said, still scratching. The bedroom door slid open. "Ha! I don't need Super-Brain to activate stuff!" Carla said. Over a shoulder, breasts down, was a now completely naked Curry, naked because what veils that remained were being used to keep her hogtied. "Speaking of girls who can't possibly love you," Edda said. "The opposite of love is indifference: You should hear how much my mom hated my dad," Carl said, looking for his chance to escape. "At least me and her are already engaged." "Engaged!??" That was the moment it hit Edda. Carl saw the way open, and ran for it. "But I have to get to as many girls as I can before I have to "cleave only unto"!" "Come back here, and become the girl!!" Carla demanded. "Don't toss her!" Edda warned. Carla growled, and hurried over to the chaise lounge. "Not too fast," Curry said. "I'm already afraid you'll drop me." Carl took Edda's sister off of her shoulder, and set her down. She, then, immediately dashed for the door, yelling towards Carl, "You can't get away from me: I have your superpowers! I destroyed your space ship! I'll make you a girl, again, yet, you alien bimbo!" "No, she will not," Edda swore. "He will not be hers." "What did you say?" Curry asked, twisting, squeezing, and wiggling her hands down inside the veils. "I am going to make a man out of him." "The brain-lice have affected the rest of your mind?" She looked over her shoulder as she continued to work her hands through her ties, "To use the emo-trons to turn that wimp into a man, he'd have to hate being a man." "And who would hate being a man more than a wimp?" The sight of the entirely tan body, as always, made him queasy. "I could say a sissy like you, but the emo-trons have never changed one of you into a man, again." Her hands were now free. Edda frowned down on her, "Or a dyke like you into a woman." Their sibling rivalry was sparked again. She sat up: "This is the dyke that can turn your man into a sissy." The rivalry was returned: "And this is the sissy that can turn your woman into a dyke." The End of this installment = = = Notes: Yes, in the previous installment, I had thought I would use Curry and Edda differently. Otherwise, Curry would've been more butch. But leaving her a free spirit opens her up to far less trite characterization. (I.e., I'm stuck with the way I already wrote her.) Edda, though, was always going to be a TV (if less gay) who'd have a hard time passing as a girl. He was the original reason for the emo-trons. It was while I was deciding on how to use the nanites that I saw their potential, in stories, gender explorations, and even answers to some up-coming problems. (The storyline does raise other problems, though.) As mentioned once, Homer "Poppers" Nestor did not invent the emo- trons. He does not have the equipment. His contribution is the Kelvin cline: the underwear that reads the wears's "fight or flight" temperature gradient, and relays the information to the nanites. Kelvin is a scientific temperature measuring system. M%ss~k%s will let us know where they come from, and their true purpose. Unless I get a better idea, it is no accident that they can change the synaptic receptors that program a person's sexual identity. I haven't decided, as yet, if the nanites will be an apocalyptic threat to Earth. P.S. Curry's subconscious has recognized Carla's resemblance to Deborah and her half-sister, Evy. (Reminder: "Carla" is an enhanced duplicate of Evy, with her ethnicity deliberately muddied.)