Don't Get Mad... free porn video

Author's note: Sometime I get mad. When I do my stories go all dark and nasty. About three years ago, I started this, and am still working on it. The problem is, without being in a bad mood, it isn't going anywhere. For those of you that might comment. The technique I use here does exist. Brainwashing uses the exact technique I have described of punishment and positive reinforcement. The submliminal information I have written is real. The sensory deprivation tank exists in the very form I have shown here. The only things I have created out of fiction is the drugs Takedown and Janusin. Don't get mad... Vincenzo Saliari shook his head. He stretched, and suddenly his alarms kicked in. He wasn't in his bed with the silk sheets. He felt confused drugged. Too much party last night, maybe. He remembered a cute number with red hair and, she had said, a sister. No one with him in bed, so she'd gotten up. His hands told him that it was twin sized. She must have been hot. He hadn't taken a girl in a twin bed since he was fifteen. He opened his eyes. The blank institutional green walls loomed over him. He sat up, and looked around. The room was built large enough that the bed he was laying in was separated from every wall, standing alone in the room. Beside it were a plastic carafe, and a soft plastic cup, both on a lightweight fiberglass tray. He was thirsty. He grabbed the carafe, and poured the water in his mouth, letting the liquid run down his face. "It's time," Drea said. Her twin sister Deirdre nodded, tapping on the door. Doctor Solomon came in, looking at the monitor. The victim of this entire operation was absently wiping his chest in the room. He looked at Deirdre, who was dressed as a nurse. "Notify the others. And be sure to have your finger ready, Andrea." Drea nodded, and flipped up the cover on the red button. She had joked about the dead man switch. "What setting, Doc?" "Five minutes." Vincenzo stood. He was barefoot, wearing some kind of soft hospital shirt. His hair felt shaggy, like it hadn't been cut just last week. His sense of balance was off, and he couldn't figure out why. There was a click at the door, and a doctor entered. Vincenzo had seen him before. Well, actually he had seen a picture before. Something Solomon. Brother of one of his targets. "Good morning. Am I addressing Vincent or Vanessa?" Solomon asked. "What?" He was shocked. His gruff tenor was softer somehow. "Who are you?" "Vinnie Saliari. Who the fuck do you think I am?" Instead of answering, Solomon opened the clipboard, and made a note. "And what is the last thing you remember?" "What's going on here, Doc?" "Please, answer the question." "I was in a bar in New York. Guido's. I had picked up some girl and was going to take her back to my place." He looked confused. "Then nothing." "And the date?" "February seventeenth." Solomon sighed, making yet another note. "All right, Mr. Saliari, here is what happened. On the eighteenth of February, you went to a plastic surgeon, identified yourself as Vanessa Saliari, and asked for full sexual reassignment. He began working on you, implanting silicone breast implants, and trimming your face, your Adam's apple, and vocal cords. About a month into the procedures, you suddenly started screaming that you were Vincent, not Vanessa, and attacked the doctor and two nurses, killing two before you were subdued. "You were judged criminally insane and sent here." "What are you-" Vinnie pulled out the robe. He suddenly looked down, and stared. Two firm pert breasts thrust from his chest. "What the fuck!" He started forward. In the control room, Drea punched the button. Vinnie dropped like a pole- axed steer. Solomon looked at the body before him, then looked up. Shandon had planted the bugs in the room, and even to Solomon, they were invisible. "How long did you drop him?" "The button is set for five. Just like you said," a hidden speaker replied. "Good." Solomon stepped into the hall, and a moment later, two hefty orderlies came in. They picked up the body, and strapped it down on the bed with leather straps, and restraints. Solomon brought in a chair, and waited. Deirdre stood at his side with the tray. Vinnie came violently awake. He tried to move, but the restraints and straps pinned him. Solomon came over beside the bed, looking down with professional worry. "Are you back now, Vinnie?" "Let me go you twisted fuck! I want out of here, and I want out now!" "You have been committed by a court of law, Vinnie. Removing the straps will not free you; a court has to do it. If they do you would then go to a prison to serve life without parole." He snapped his fingers, and Deirdre came over holding the tray. Solomon picked up the syringe and bottle, and expertly filled it. "I have decided to proceed with a new drug called Janusin. It was designed to allow the two parts of a schizophrenic mind to communicate. To allow me to call Vanessa out at will." He squirted some of the sterilized water, then bent to inject it. "No you-" In the control room, Drea punched the button. Solomon finished injecting the placebo into the limp body. "Hit him again when he starts to come out of it. Is the tape ready?" "All set, Doctor." Deirdre hurried out, and returned with a tape recorder. The orderlies came back, and another chair was brought. Impersonally they stripped him, and began dressing the body in hose and garter belt, a camisole and panties. They draped the body across the chair, then strapped him down. Once done, they left. Deirdre took her station beside the chair, and Solomon stepped from the room. He lit a cigarette, and waited. Vinnie snapped upright, and Deirdre bent over, all professional concern. "Are you feeling all right, dear?" "What the fuck keeps happening?" "I really can't explain in layman's terms. Your other personality seems to be able to turn your personality on and off when she needs to. I'll be right back with the doctor." She stepped into the hall, and Solomon handed her a smoke from his pack and lit it. They stood in companionable silence until she crushed the cigarette out, then they stepped into the room. During the interim, Vinnie had been trying to slip his hands out of the straps. But as the old joke said, 'Just because I'm crazy, it doesn't make me stupid'. The straps were designed so that only another person could release them. He noticed the table with a tape recorder on it, and was thinking that maybe he could grab it and fashion a knife of some kind when Solomon and Deirdre returned. The doctor turned on the tape player, and sat. "Well you came out of it very quickly." Solomon made yet another goddamned note. "Vanessa told me that you refused to talk with us if she was present." "Why am I dressed like this?" "Those are what Vanessa wanted to wear. I felt that to protect you from injury, I would allow her what she wanted." "I don't know what the fuck you're trying to do, Doc, but if you don't let me go, I'm going to kill every fucking person in this place!" He struggled against the straps. Solomon put away the pen with a sigh. "Vinnie, do you want me to have you put in a straitjacket? Locked in a padded room? If that failed to calm you down, do you want drugs until you need diapers?" The man shook his head violently. "Then remember I am trying to help you. I do not like drugs, they don't remove the problem, they only suppress it." He looked at the clipboard again. "Perhaps we can get through to you by running back the tape. Deirdre, get the other recorder, please." The nurse went out, and returned a few moments later with another cassette recorder. She set it down, and set to record. Then turned to leave the room. "August 15. Doctor Yitzhak Solomon, interviewing patient Vincenzo Saliari." He went on to describe the symptoms that suggested a second personality disorder. "Second personality, Vanessa stated that Vinnie refused to come out and talk, refusing to acknowledge her presence at all. I am now going to run back the original tape, and play it. While doing so, a second recorder is being used to tape both Vanessa's comments, and Vinnie's reaction to them." He started the recorder. It started with Solomon stating the date, identifying himself and the patient, then saying; "Is Vinnie there with you?" There was a throaty chuckle in Vinnie's voice. "No, doctor, I am here by myself. Vinnie doesn't want to play." "But the Janusin was supposed to bring you both out simultaneously." "Not if he doesn't want to. People can ignore what they don't want to believe. You know that. He doesn't want to believe in me." The voice laughed again. "He doesn't believe in Santa Claus either." "Well-" "Not to worry, Doctor. I won't try to take over again when this wears off. You can play the tape, and I will make him listen." There was a sigh. "Are these straps necessary?" "Not with you." "But Vinnie might decide to pay attention. Fair enough. But I'm uncomfortable. Nurse, be a dear and get my things, please." "Vanessa, if he wakes up wearing that-" "I am through caring what he thinks doctor. Unlike him, I am asking. Please." "I can't allow you to hurt his mental well being, Vanessa." There was a petulant sigh. "Doctor, I know everything Vinnie knows about hurting people. If you don't allow me to dress properly, I will eventually have to show you what I know using his body as a canvas. Vinnie will have to learn to pee sitting down when I'm done, but I already do. Besides, if you strap me into a straitjacket and he wakes up in the rubber room, what will that do to his mental health?" She laughed again. This laugh was deep and evil. "All right." The voice grew louder as if Solomon had leaned over the machine. "Vanessa is going to dress. This tape will resume when she is done." A click, then another. "Please, sit down, Vanessa." "Why thank you, doctor. May I have a cigarette?" "Here." There was the click of a lighter, the deep draw of the smoke. "Thank you, sugar. Nurse, could you strap down all but my arm? I want to enjoy this." There was clicking of the straps being tightened. "Better." "Since Vinnie won't talk, perhaps you can explain what is happening?" "Of course I will." "How long have you been around?" "Since Vinnie was a boy. Ever since he killed the neighbor's dog just because he wanted to." Vinnie stared at the recorder, his clothing and the straps forgotten. He'd never told anyone about that! The litany went on. The candy he had stolen at ten, the bully he'd jumped and beaten up with a baseball bat one night because he was bigger than Vinnie. "Then he began killing people. He has been killing people for money for ten years now." Vanessa was going on in a conversational tone. "He gets off on it, Doctor, he told Willie the Blade it was better than sex sometimes. But I will be damned if I am going to sit in a jail cell for the rest of my life because he wants another thrill." Vinnie moaned. He had been alone! There was no way he could have been heard. Now she was going down the list, everyone he had taken out in the last two years. "I finally decided I had to escape last year," the voice went on relentlessly. "Why?" "Because he murdered a woman. Sandra Albright. Not because he had to, not because he was told to. Because he needed an apartment to shoot from, and it was her apartment. She came home unexpectedly. Vinnie had a ski mask on; she couldn't see his face. He tied her up, and amused himself with her." "Amused himself?" "Raped her, Doctor. Shoved himself up her ass, in her mouth, used her in everyway he could. As he did it, he told her he was just going to kill a man with a rifle, then he'd be gone. The poor bitch believed him." The voice was ragged, as if on the edge of tears. "He used her, abused her, and then strangled her and set fire to the apartment. The police linked it to the shooting only by chance. "He boasted about the rape, laughing at the woman's trusting eyes! "It was then that I decided that I had to get out of this in the only way I could think of. I am going to take over his life. I am going to come out like a butterfly, and fly away." "But Vinnie is here." "Do you think I care?" The voice was almost a scream. "He uses people, and I used him. I used the money in the bank to start the procedure. When he tried to come out to stop me, I stopped him from hurting the doctor too badly. I am as much a killer as he is. Vinnie is just my first 'hit'." "Vanessa-" "Doctor, I can feel him trying to get back out. I have something to say to Vinnie before I go under again. Nurse, finish strapping me down. "Vinnie, you think you're so fucking smart." The voice dripped vitriol. "You think you can get over on everybody. But I am here, inside you. You can't go back from what I've already done. The tits will be there unless you get them cut off. The face has been changed to my face. I called Don Pietro and told him off before the surgery on the vocal cords, and he's put a contract out on you. The only way to escape is for me to continue. If you resist long enough, the boys will find you and kill you. I intend to live, and if that means you die, so be it." There was a moan. Solomon shut off the first recorder. Vinnie was staring at him with terror in his eyes. "Do you understand our problem here, Vinnie?" Vinnie nodded. The mob would allow all sorts of eccentricities, but being really crazy wasn't on the list. If she had really called the Don, there was a contract on him for sure. "What can I do?" Nothing. Vinnie started, trying to turn. His own altered voice had spoken as if the bitch was standing behind him. "We can try to work with both of you-" "Did you hear that, Doc?" Solomon looked up. "Hear what?" As Solomon spoke the voice said, You can hear me, Vinnie? Vinnie squeezed his eyes shut. "I can hear her voice in my head." Great! Oh, this is rich! Solomon stared at him, then made a note. "Janusin was supposed to bring her to the surface simultaneously with you. I thought it would have worn off by now. I will have to talk to the pharmaceutical company about possible side effects." He put the pen in his pocket, and left. A moment later, two large orderlies came in to unstrap Vinnie from the chair. He didn't resist. The bitch was real. In the control room, Drea and Deirdre were ecstatic. The first step had been taken. II ONE YEAR EARLIER Andrea and Deirdre Albright looked at the estate as they were coming up the driveway. It was a Victorian mansion large enough for a prep school on a huge plot of land north of Philadelphia, with a wrought iron fence encircling it. The taxi stopped, and an elderly man in a butler's uniform opened the door. "Madams Albright?" he asked. His voice was upper crust British. They climbed out of the cab, stretching. It had been a long flight from De Moines, and a confusing one. A week earlier, they had received a letter. 'Harlan Winters requests your presence at a meeting of mutual interest. Enclosed are tickets for a flight to Philadelphia. You may stay at his residence. If you do not wish to, funds have been included for lodging, meals, transport, etc.' In the messenger delivered envelope were the tickets and five thousand dollars in one hundred-dollar bills. The young women had looked around their $600 a month apartment, and decided that this had to be important. The butler signaled, and three younger men in livery came out and began bringing the bags in. "Will you be staying with us, ladies?" "Yeah, we will," Andrea, the more outspoken of the twins said. "Very well." He looked at the men. "The blue suite, Armand." One of the men nodded, and they began trouping up the stairs. The old man turned back to them. "I am Hubert, the majordomo. Mister Winters is detained in the city, but will be back shortly. Please make yourselves comfortable. If there is anything you wish, please ring." As he spoke, another car, this one a Porsche was coming up the drive. "Please excuse me, one of the other guests appears to be arriving." As they went in, they heard, "Doctor Chin, I believe?" The estate was exciting to the women. It had been built by Winter's Grandfather 20 years before the Civil War, replacing a larger stone monstrosity according to Hubert. Hubert found them and told them that dinner was to be served at 6, and that they were to dress. Andrea and Deirdre spent the time before dinner exploring. It was larger inside than out, thanks to the two cellars. Ten suites with two bedrooms, each with their own bath. Two dining halls, one for intimate dinners of less than fifty, the other doubled as a grand ballroom when the furniture was cleared. A kitchen that needed guide dogs to get through and a walk in freezer with maybe a ton of assorted meats. There were other guests, one older woman, and five men. None of them had arrived together. The young women met them during their explorations, and wondered what they might all have in common. Formal dresses had been provided, and the women were ready when one of the younger servants arrived escort them. The table was large enough for everyone to sit around, and only the head of the table was empty. The conversation was almost non existent, though the girls tried. There was no subject all of them had in common. Talking baseball had only brought Doctor Yitzhak Solomon into the conversation. The man named Chin, who looked Japanese, started talking the esoteric shorthand of medicine, and that drew Solomon back from the conversation. As they were served after dinner liqueurs, the door at the far end of the room opened, and Hubert pushed in a man in a wheel chair. The man looked ancient. The wheelchair was moved to the head of the table, and Hubert expertly locked the brakes, stepping back. As if they were illusions, the others servants vanished. "Ladies, Gentlemen, I am Harlan Winters." The old man looked to each of them. "You do not know each other as of yet, but if you will allow me, I will make the introductions. "Upon my left going down the table we have Martin Van Pelt. Beside him are Andrea and Deirdre Albright, and at the foot of the table, Doctor Yitzhak Solomon. On my right, starting at the foot of the table Is Doctor Chin, Miss Juliana Compton, Henry Fellows, and last, Donald Brown." He breathed deeply, and looked into his lap. "I am a wealthy man. I am worth something in the neighborhood of four and a half billion dollars." "A comfortable neighborhood," Fellows commented. Winter didn't seem to mind the interruption. "Yes a very comfortable neighborhood. But there are things even I cannot buy. My brother was murdered last year. Shot down like a dog in the streets. The police have nothing. Or at least nothing they can use." He looked up, and fury glowed in his eyes. "I hired detectives. They found out what I wanted to know. I know who killed him, and why." He smiled. "Even though I now know who killed him, I am unsatisfied with merely doing death to him. Killing him would be a momentary pleasure. I want him to suffer for a long time. For the rest of a natural life if at all possible. "The detectives at my request began researching the man's background, and you all have something in common with me. Someone in your family was also murdered. By the same man." The statement brought stunned silence. "If you will allow, I will explain. Mr. Van Pelt is a construction boss for a large firm. Another firm bid on a project, but Van Pelt's company won it last year. Construction had begun, and Van Pelt's younger brother was in charge of the crew. A section of wall collapsed, killing him. There were accusations of falsified records, and the police totally ignored the evidence of a bomb that caused the section to fall. The contract was pulled, and given to the other company." The rugged man looked away, his huge hands clenching on the tablecloth. "The Albright women had an older sister, Sandra. About four months ago, her apartment caught fire, and she was killed. The police linked it to the shooting of a protected witness that was about to testify at the local courthouse. The woman had been raped, and bound before the fire started. She was alive and feeling up to the moment she died." Andrea moaned, and her sister hugged her. Both were crying. "Doctor Solomon is a psychologist. His sister was in a six passenger commuter aircraft that exploded in midair two years ago. On the plane were a mobster and his bodyguards. Killing her merely because she was there." Solomon picked up his glass, and chugged the brandy. He was ashen. "Doctor Chin survived the attack on him. His real name is Hiro Matsuke. He worked for the Federal Government in the witness relocation program. His skill as a plastic surgeon has allowed many to escape retribution for their testimony over the years. He had a brother named Onaki who also worked in the same office. A gunman who obviously didn't know which brother worked for the government killed Onaki eighteen months ago. The government relocated Matsuke under the name Chin." The oriental looked wooden. "Mrs. Compton has a PHD in acoustics. She was married to Harry Compton the investigative reporter in Washington DC. Harry had begun a series of articles about organized crime, and had stated in his last article that he would reveal the name of several senators and congressmen accepting money from the Italian and Mexican mobs. He was murdered in a manner suggesting that the Columbians had killed him instead almost four years ago." The woman was crying. "Mr. Fellows used to work in real estate. His company was starting to encroach on an area in California where the local Mobs had interests. His office was burned to the ground by an arsonist last year. His wife and two children were in the building. The doors had been jammed so that they couldn't escape." Any good mood Fellows might have had had been destroyed by the calm recitation. "And Mr. Brown. A member of the Central Intelligence Agency for nineteen years. A field agent and later control for operations in the Eastern Bloc. His brother was in a restaurant when a man machine-gunned a table full of Mob bigwigs. One of the bullets struck him in the neck killing him instantly in July of last year." Winters looked at the people at the table. Each mirrored his fury. Of all of them, only Brown didn't react. "So we all lost someone." Brown said. "Give me the name, and he's dead an hour later." Like Winters, his voice was flat. "I said I don't want a quick end, and I meant it." Winters looked at his wasted body. "I am worth a lot of money. What would any of you do for a part of it?" "How big a part?" Van Pelt asked. "I have no heirs, and my lawyers are in the midst of liquidating all of my holding and converting them into stocks and bonds. I will divide my estate nine ways. One share goes to Hubert." He motioned toward the silent butler, "who will use it to finally retire. I will give one share to each of you in return for your help. If you cannot or will not help me, you may have a stipend of one hundred thousand dollars a year for the rest of your lives if you promise not to reveal my plans to anyone. Even if you went to the police, there would be no proof that any of this happened. The money is contingent on your silence. I have experts at hiding where my money is going and why. At least I can thank the IRS for something." He shrugged. "Even more important, if you reveal what is being done to anyone, it will eventually get back to someone that will tell the target, or his masters. They will either kill him, or hide him. Either way, he will escape justice." "What do you want?" Chin asked. "How much pain is your vengeance worth?" "'How many barrels will thy vengeance yield thee, even if thou gettest it, Captain Ahab? It will not fetch thee much in our Nantucket market'." Winters quoted. At the confused looks he received, he added. "Moby Dick. You're missing the point, Doctor Chin. That isn't the right question. It is how much pain can we inflict, and keep him alive? How long can we make him suffer?" Winters glared. "If he dies a year from now, it would be too soon for me!" Everyone looked at each other. They had just been offered a choice. A tenth of a million a year to keep quiet, or half a billion in one lump sum if they could find the method and help. Winters signaled, and Hubert stepped up, releasing the brakes. "You have the rest of the week to think about it. If you must leave, I will understand. If you have any requests for information or equipment, please let Hubert know." Of the group, only Fellows opted out. He wanted revenge, but at the same time, didn't have the conscience to continue. It had been less than a week before they got together again. Doctor Solomon had been studying a file Brown had delivered during that time. It was the psychological profile of Vincenzo Saliari. He had also spent many hours closeted with Doctor Chin. Tonight he tapped his water glass, and stood. "Mr. Winters, you want to get even with Vinnie. How far are you willing to go?" Winters looked up, and the same fury that had been in his eyes the week before had been unbanked. "Find a way, and I will do it." Solomon nodded, and tapped the folder he had brought with him to the table. "With all of your help, I think I have the worst thing you can do to such a person. Something almost completely irrevocable, and harming not only his body, but his mind as well." The others leaned forward intently. "Continue, Doctor," Winters replied. "First a little background. Vincent Saliari is an overly aggressive male, who releases his aggressions by killing people. The fact that he happened to find a niche in society to pursue that merely shows that he is also intelligent. He feels comfortable with the rules of the Organized Crime society, and is comforted by the mores of that group. He knows that most of the dangers you might face in jail or prison are nonexistent for a mobster. "He doesn't have to worry about casual brutality, because the Mob has men inside the prison who assure that their members are not so treated. Even guards are wary of injuring them unless forced to. He doesn't have to worry about what are called the Sisters, which are men that take sexual pleasure in raping new inmates. By the same token, the prison societies such as the Aryan Brotherhood, the Warrior Society, Mexican Mafia, Bloods and Crips, leave them completely alone. They can gain revenge on one person only by placing all of their members in jeopardy. "So he kills people outside the walls, and inside he is a respected member of their society, safe from any harm. I have found a method that I believe, will remove all of those protections from him. That will remove his ability to kill at will, remove the protection of the mob family, and assure that casual brutality will enter his life." He looked around. Every eye was on him. "I propose that we take Vinnie Saliari, and make him a woman." If he had suggested they change him into a troll, they wouldn't have been more surprised. "How do we do that?" Brown asked sarcastically. "Create a time machine?" "It is not that esoteric really. I asked Doctor Chin's advice. If you will?" Chin stood. "One of the procedures, or rather set of procedures I learned in Medical school was sexual reassignment. Most of them you have heard about or know from modern life. Tummy tucks, face jobs, Nose jobs, breast implants, liposuction. All are used by women. However there is a group of patients that are defined as transsexuals. Men who believe they should have been women, or vice versa. "While there are also those that get part of the procedure done as stage performers, female impersonators, etc, there are others that come in for actual reassignment. These women of both types are in every way indistinguishable from a woman that walks past you on the street unless they actually disrobe. Only the fact that a doctor looked at what nature gave them and labeled them male or female made them anything else. "Doctor Solomon asked me what would be necessary to change a man to a woman, and I listed them for him." He picked up a sheet of paper. "A nose job, a face job." He motioned toward his face. "To alter the contours of the bones in the face to something more feminine, such as reducing the cheekbone prominence, and reducing the brow ridge, at the same time raising the brow. "Chin restructuring, scalp advancement and hair implantation to assure that it remains there. Reduction of the thyroid cartilage, which causes the prominent male 'Adam's apple' to go away. There is also a new procedure where the vocal cords are trimmed with a laser. This causes the pitch of a male voice to go up. The technology exists to convert a male Bass to a female soprano, and as long as the person isn't trying for a coloratura voice, it can be done. "Breast augmentation to increase the new woman's natural shaping. Contouring of the trunk to more feminine lines. Finally electrolysis, and hormone therapy. While hormones can be used without a castration, removing the testicles also removes the testosterone production, making everything else easier." He set down the paper. "How long will this take? Winters asked. "Assuming we planned and did all of the procedures at the same time, less than two weeks. Because of some possible complications, it would be better to stagger the procedure, to allow for healing. Doing say nose, chin and cheeks along with the breast implants and castration, waiting about two weeks, doing the electrolysis, abdomen and thyroid restructure with vocal cord reduction along with the brow and scalp, then allow healing again. We could have him completely feminine in looks in less than three months." "We couldn't hold him that long." Winters complained. "Oh yes we could. If we can find a way to convince him that he is doing all of this to himself." Doctor Solomon looked around the room. "With all of your help, we can do this." III TODAY "He's up and moving," Juliana reported. Doctor Chin walked over, watching the screen. There wasn't anywhere on the property where Vinnie couldn't be watched. As for Vanessa, Don had told them the transceiver implant would receive if Vinnie was on the moon. Juliana was the mother of at least part of Vanessa. She leaned forward, and spoke in the microphone. Vinnie stepped to the door, looking both ways. One of the orderlies sat at one end of the hall, reading a magazine, the other end was empty. He moved quietly that way, and looked around the corner. Where do you think you're going, Vinnie? the Bitch's voice asked. "I'm getting the fuck out of here," he snapped. He didn't consider that it would look crazy to have a conversation with himself. Do you really think you can run away from your own mind? The Bitch laughed. Run little man. When I get tired of it, I'll take over. When I do, I am going to do what I want to do. I like one of the other patients a lot. Maybe I'll suck his dick. I enjoy the taste of come. The smoothness, the slick feel of it in my mouth. You'll learn to enjoy it as much as I do. The laughter pealed in his ears, and he found himself on his knees screaming- "SHUT UP!" "Are you all right?" Vinnie looked around. The orderly had stood, and was walking toward him. He tried to stand, but fell on his ass. He scrabbled away. "Get the fuck away from me!" Ah, I see you want to suck a dick. In the control room, Juliana hit the button. On the screen, Vinnie collapsed. The orderly clucked his tongue, then picked the limp body up. He carried it back to the room, laying it on the bed. As he went back to his post, Andrea in her own nurse's uniform walked in. "What was all the screaming?" "The new patient. Started screaming for someone to shut up then went out like a light." "I'll look in on him." "Sure." She walked down, then closed the door. "How long do I have, Juliana?" "He just bit it. You have about four minutes." "Not long enough. Give him another five." "All right." Juliana tapped the button one more time. In the room, Andrea reached under her skirt, and pulled out a turkey- basting syringe. She opened Vinnie's lax mouth, and sprayed the contents into his mouth. She worked his jaw as Solomon had shown her, and he swallowed instinctively. Then she put away the syringe. She pulled out a dildo about the size of the average man, and lubricated it. Then she flipped him over. Working swiftly, she shoved it up his ass, hard. She then pulled it back and forth hard, sawing it inside him for almost three minutes. Then she slid it back into concealment. She stepped out, and went to the Orderly. "Report to Doctor Solomon. I think the patient might need further sedation. Have Van Pelt come back and take your place. I'll wait here." The Orderly left, and a few moments later, Van Pelt came in. He went with her, and they strapped Vinnie face down, hands bound to the headboard, feet to the foot of the bed. Andrea flipped the hospital robe open, and squeezed the slack breasts hard. "Juliana?" "Make it quick. Less than a minute." Van Pelt dropped his pants. He jumped up on the bed. Vinnie snapped awake as a voice shouted "Martin!" "She asked me to-" "I don't care what 'she' asked you to do. Get out of here, pack your stuff, and leave." "Yes ma'am." Behind him, he could hear a man zipping his pants, and leaving. His ass hurt, and there was an odd taste in his mouth. The Nurse that had been helping the doctor was cursing. He felt the strap on one foot come free. "What is happening, Nurse?" Solomon entered the room. "I found Martin fucking one of the patients, Doctor." Suddenly the feeling in his ass made sense. The taste in his mouth- He began spitting desperately. The other leg came free. The nurse moved up to start on the hands. "It's unprofessional; Doctor, but I really can't blame him. Having someone who looks like that pawing at your crotch every time you're around would drive a saint to sex." "Be that as it may, Martin will leave the clinic immediately." The last hand came free, and Vinnie rolled off the bed. He scrambled into a corner, looking up with terrified eyes. Solomon bent down, far enough back that Vinnie couldn't grab him. "Are you all right?" Vinnie screamed. Juliana hit the button and Vinnie collapsed. Andrea helped Solomon put the limp form back in the bed. "We'll have to replace Mark." "I know. I will check the registry." Solomon made a note, and left. He stopped in the control room, and scanned the list. Mark Gordon, an efficient orderly would leave with an excellent recommendation, and be replaced. Martin Van Pelt snickered. "When do you think he'll put together that I'm still here?" Solomon shook his head. "From now on you'll be Mark when you're on the ward. He might recognize your voice, but he didn't see who abused him." The doctor sent the E-mail calling up the next orderly on the list. "Things will continue as we have planned." Vinnie didn't like it, but he was getting used to just suddenly being here again. He was laying on the bed, the taste of semen in his mouth, and his ass burning. Did you enjoy that as much as I did? "Why are you doing this?" Vinnie wanted to shout it, but in the high- pitched voice he now had, it sounded whiney. I thought I made myself clear, dear Vinnie. This ends when I've come out. When a man can fuck me in my cunt, not up your ass. "I don't want to be a woman!" Did I ask you? A pity about Martin. He was so sweet in my mouth. Maybe his replacement will be better. Vinnie held his head and moaned. And you had better stop talking about why I am doing this. You should be saying why are you doing this. After all, it is your body. "Just leave me alone!" I can't do that. We can't get this body cut in half like King Solomon. We're together, forever either in life as a woman, or in a psycho ward, or dead. Now get that pretty ass up, and go to dinner. "I don't want to eat!" Either you get up and eat, or I will take over, take you to dinner, and have another dick in your mouth for dessert. "All right, damn it!" Vinnie stood, and stormed out. The orderly was sitting at the end, and he stood. "Where's the dining room?" "Right down there, ma'am." He smiled at Vinnie. "I'm not a woman!" Watch it, sugar. I like his style. He may be your main course. Vinnie got a hold of himself. He'd seen sadists work, and knew that the Bitch would do what she threatened. Now apologize. "I'm, I'm sorry." Vinnie said. "I understand. Split personalities can be a real pain. A nice looking woman like you shouldn't have to put up with it." "Nice?" That's right. You've never seen your face, have you Vinnie? Or rather, our face. Ask the nice man for a mirror. "Is there a mirror around here?" "In the nurse's station. But you can't get close to it. You're on suicide watch." Think like a girl, sugar. Wheedle him a little. "Could you take me? Please?" The last word was like barbed wire. The Orderly hesitated. "Wait a minute." He got on the phone, and called. After a moment, he nodded. "All right, Doctor." He hung up. "There's a steel mirror in the men's room. It's bolted to the wall so you can't get it off. He said as long as no one's in there, you can look in it." Vinnie started to walk away, but the relentless voice stopped him. Thank the nice man. "Uh, thank you." "You're more than welcome." Vinnie knocked on the door to the bathroom, then went in. The steel sheet reflected back his worst nightmare. His eyes were large and doe-like, the kind he'd always liked to see while a girl looked at him and sucked his cock. The lips were fuller than he was used to, and the nose thinned. His Adam's apple was gone, and the tits in the mirror were full and desirable. He'd love it, if it weren't his reflection. In the control room, a full audience watched as Vinnie saw himself for the first time. It was almost like watching a solo scene porno movie. A hand came up, touching the cheek as if he didn't believe it. The head turned from side to side, viewing the entire face, and the sweep of the neck. Hesitantly, the hand dropped, touching the front of the hospital robe. Juliana leaned forward toward the mike. "Open it up, Vinnie. They are the best tits money could buy." His hands opened the buttons, and pulled the robe aside. The breasts had large areola, and the nipples were stiff. His hand gently slid in, and he closed his eyes, as if doing so would stop him from feeling it. The breasts didn't feel like silicone. They felt natural, as if he'd always had them. Chin smiled, and gave the others a thumb up. "Now stop feeling yourself up, girl. Time for dinner." Vinnie buttoned up the robe, and left. His shoulders were sloped, defeated. "I think that deserves some champagne," Van Pelt said. IV 1 YEAR EARLIER "You're insane!" Brown said. "Actually I am deadly serious." Solomon said. "Consider. We wish him to suffer. I can tell you from my own experience, that emotional and psychological pain is as real as the physical. People hurt each other every day in that way, without considering. Now tell me," he leaned forward, "With someone that knows the human mind as well as anyone on the planet, how much pain can I inflict?" "But will that do?" Andrea asked. She was still angry. If it had been up to her, they would have had Saliari here with flensing knives poised. "When I suggested making our dear friend a woman, I meant in every way." Solomon said. "Not only in form, but in mind as well. When we are done with him, he will believe he has made this choice of his own free will, and embrace it. He will willingly ask for sexual reassignment. Then, we disappear, and leave him to live out his life, half man, half woman, and knowing that we've done it to him." They stared at him in amazement. He had them in his hands. "In psychology, there are minds that are rigid and others that are flexible. A rigid mind is hard to change, but when changed reforms in a different rigid form. Almost always an opposite of what they were. Victims change to become persecutors. Murderers become victims. We see them; we know the signs of them, and how to deal with them. "If he were my patient, I could literally make him a pacifist unwilling to kill anyone. A change as fundamental as Saul of Tarsus becoming the apostle Paul. Instead of shattering his mind, I would pick at it like a diamond cutter, turning the six worthless carats of his masculine mind into a four carat woman that we can have as virgin or slut as we choose. It would take longer, but it would work. "His mind is rigid beyond the normal term. He is a killer, and a man. Not only a man but also what would be called an Alpha male. The leader of the pack in his trade. He only bows to the Mob bosses because they feed victims to his killer side. His treatment of women shows this. He glories in being in control. In having a person's life in his hands until the final instant." He snapped his fingers, the snap sounding like a pistol shot. Everyone flinched. "What if we shattered this personality? He comes back, but the mind changes, under the proper conditions, he become the opposite. If we were to leave him his sexual identity, he would become a priest, a martyr. Without that identity to hold onto, he becomes what he can see in the mirror. We are going to give him a face to see, a personality to match. Doctor Chin, if you would?" Chin stood, setting a laptop on the table. "If you will all come over here?" "Not yet doctor. Hubert, show him the special equipment in the library." "Yes sir." "If you will all accompany me?" Winters steered his motorized wheelchair through the door. The Library was huge; hundreds of books on two levels greeted them. Hubert took the doctor to a console at a podium, and showed him where to mate his laptop to the main computer. As the doctor did that, the butler opened a wall to reveal a huge plasma TV screen equipped to show slides or, as in this case, projections from the unit also hooked into the computer. A projection of Vinnie Saliari. The body was a nude computer generated representation. "I must thank Mr. Brown for this." "Thank the behavioral science department of the Agency," Brown said. "We have files on a lot of men like Vinnie." "As you will. First we implant breast forms. I intend to use the newest technology here. The standard silicon and water forms are rigid, and remain rigid for years. That is why women with new boob jobs have stiff-standing breasts. However they have just developed a pre-softened covering that can give realistic look and feel in less than three months. We also are going to implant a modified version of these on the hips, giving him a full feminine set of hips. Last, we make a layer of the same material in the abdomen. This will be the effect." On the screen, breasts ballooned outward. The hips widened. As the picture turned, they could see the slightly rounded stomach of a young woman. "Now we also castrate him. This is primarily to assure that testosterone is no longer being supplied. I haven't found a way yet to introduce hormones without either pills or injections. Next we work on this face." The screen zoomed until only the face and neck could be seen. Chin modified the picture, and long feminine styled hair framed the face. But it was still a man. "I have decided to trim the jaw, the Adam's apple, and the vocal cords at the same time. This will cause the following changes." The jaw slimmed down, becoming softer. The Adam's apple disappeared. "After he has had time to heal, I then alter the brow, nose and scalp." The face slimmed more, the nose becoming a cuter version of the original, the hair dropping three centimeters, the brow ridge disappearing. "Behold our new person. Vinnie as a woman." "Not Vinnie. He needs a woman's name," Juliana said. "How about Vanessa?" "Agreed." Winters lifted a glass. "Ladies, Gentlemen. I give you Vanessa!" "I hate to break the mood, but we still have to get him and keep him." Solomon said. "And enough information to make him sure that Vanessa is him." "I can handle both of those." Brown left the room, returning with a briefcase. "At the Agency, we sometimes have to, question, people. Most of which wouldn't speak with us. So we developed this to take them down." He lifted out a vial. "This is TKDN, or as we in the trade call it, Takedown. It causes the voluntary nerves of the human body to shutdown, fast, leaving the autonomic system intact The reverse of say curare. What that means is that you shoot him, he falls, and is still breathing but out like a light. You just pick him up and cart him off." "But what dosage is safe?" "That's the wonderful part. Takedown is derived from the natural chemicals released when you are in deep stage 4 sleep. These chemicals stop your body from moving. There is no lethal dosage. One micro liter, 1/50,000 of a drop, knocks him out within a second, and keeps him under for five minutes. Our standard load when we take someone down is a milliliter. A thousand times the smaller dose." "Then we use a sensory deprivation tank to squeeze him dry." Juliana suddenly sat upright. "You said if we could convince him that he is actively assisting us, Doctor Solomon. Why?" "If he believes that we are doing all of this without his consent, he will resist. It is like a torture session. The man being tortured resists until he no longer can. Even the truth serums like Scopolamine sodium pentathol and sodium amytal merely make the person more talkative. A trained agent who is conscious when the drugs are administered can direct the conversation so that it skirts the issues rather than reveals. But if he believes he is part of the process of his own free will, one of the primary stumbling blocks will be removed. He will resist, just not effectively." "Is that what he's going to look like, Doctor Chin?" Juliana asked. "Unless I make serious mistakes, yes." "Then we need some way to have him 'hear' Vanessa. As if she were inside his head, undermining his control." Juliana's eyes brightened. "Mr. Brown-" "We're in this together. Call me Don." "Don, what is the smallest transmitter receiver you can get through your connections?" "They market them for commercial sale the size of a dime." He grinned. "But we have them in stock that are the size of a matchstick." "Would we be able to implant it? With a large enough reservoir of this Takedown?" "Implant." Solomon pointed at the face still revolving before them. "The mastoid sinus! It's large enough for something ten times the size of the transceiver! And the reservoir would be about the same size." "Right. They did a movie with that idea back in the 60s." Brown stared at the picture. "And cameras. We have them as small as spider webs using fiber optics. If we put them in earrings, we can keep track of him and talk to him. But he'll hear our voices." "Remember, I am the acoustical engineer. There are ways around that." Juliana looked smug. We only need one more thing to make it work. It will cost; Mr. Winters, but we can have everything done in a few months." She looked at the picture. Chin stopped the face so that it was looking out at them. "If we can find an actress that looks close to that. A transsexual herself if at all possible. Someone that needs money, and is willing to do what she is told, I can not only create your Vanessa, but also make her real to him in his own mind." V Today Vinnie didn't know or care what he ate. In his head Vanessa was commenting on the food. Hmn, good. Give me some more of the salad. He stuffed the leaves in his mouth. Bad enough he had to eat salad, but no dressing? "Can't I have something I want?" What? Calzone? "Yeah, or Linguini." I may be an Italian girl, but I don't want mama's Italian hips. If I won't watch my figure, who will? "Well you keep it up, maybe I eat what I want anyway!" Sure honey. Then I 'eat' what I want. Look to your left. Vinnie allowed his eyes to slide to the left. Looking up a little. A very young man, almost a boy, ate silently at another table. Doesn't he look sweet? Think he tastes sweet too? Vinnie forcibly looked away. Keep it up, and you're going to have another dick up your ass. There's Matthew who will be on in about an hour. He's wanted to fuck me for a week. Vinnie refused to speak. He'd noticed that she couldn't read his thoughts. But she was always watching and listening. He'd tried one of the windows, and she had asked again if he thought he could run away from himself. Even if it was impossible, he had to get away. Maybe he could convince the doctor to give him something that broke the hold of the Janusin. Just ten minutes peace would make him feel better. He finished his meal, pushing it aside. As he did, he picked up the napkin from his lap, lightly brushed his lips, and set it neatly folded beside the plate. He paused, staring at it. All his life, he'd just thrown the napkin on the table. Why was he suddenly worrying about that? I want to be treated like a lady, Vinnie. Ladies don't throw napkins unless they are upset. Not like the whores that hang around with your kind. Now let's go in the common room. There's a movie I want to see. "Maybe I don't want to!" Am I going to have to suck a dick to convince you? "No! Please." He wanted to cry. This bitch was going to turn him out whether he liked it or not. I'll make a deal with you. "What?" If you sweet-talk the orderly into letting you have a TV in your room, and do it right, I will let you watch what you want to watch. If you don't, well, let's just say you'll love the taste after a while. Vinnie gritted his teeth, and stood. The orderly was standing by the door, leaned against the wall. He looked like a mob button man surveying the crowd. Oddly enough, that remembrance eased Vinnie's mind. "Excuse me." "Yes, Ma'am?" Vinnie resisted the urge to correct him. He wasn't in the mood for more cum in his mouth. "Is it possible to have a television in my room?" "I'll have to check, but I don't see a problem." He stood up, and went to the nurse's office. The red head was in there, and she looked up at Vinnie. She nodded, and went back to her work, reaching for the phone. "The orderly came back. I'll bring it." "Thank you ever so much." Call him sweetheart. Vinnie shook his head. Call him a cute name or you'll be sucking him off! "You're such a dear." He said. The man smiled, and looked away blushing. Oh I love a man when he blushes! Vinnie walked down the hall. "He's just asked for a television," Deirdre reported. "I know. He thinks he's getting off easily," Andrea replied. She looked to Juliana, who gave her the thumbs up. "We've been watching. The subliminals will get a chance to really work now." VI 10 MONTHS EARLIER The conspirators met in the library, where Hubert was rolling open the plasma screen TV again. Juliana stood before it facing the others. "What we are going to use is what is called subliminal suggestion. I will first show you a movie, and after that, I will explain what has happened." She flipped a switch, and the lights dimmed. The movie was a first run theatrical production all of them had heard of, but none had as yet seen. Of them all, only Juliana knew what was happening, but even she was not unaffected. As the credits finished, the lights came up. She stood. "Now look around you she said. Each had drained the cups of whatever beverage they had asked for, and more had been supplied. "This room is air conditioned, kept at what, 70 degrees?" "Yes, Ma'am," Hubert replied. "A constant 70 degrees, yet all of us were thirsty. Why?" She motioned toward the screen. "Because I made you thirsty." She put her arms behind her back. "Back in 1957, behavioral psychologists examined the way the human mind works. They discovered that the human mind has two different monitors for data input. The conscious mind, and the subconscious. When it comes to controlling what you do the conscious mind is actually the lesser of the two. "Where the conscious mind sees what's in front of us when we look at something, and remembers only what we wish to remember, or something that catches our interest, the subconscious sees everything, and forgets nothing. They are constantly in communication, but we are unaware of this. This is why hunches are considered so odd. They are thoughts created by the subconscious that are acted upon by the conscious mind. The best analogy is that the conscious mind is the computer on your desk. The subconscious is the programmer that created the software. "Your conscious mind sleeps, the subconscious never sleeps. Everything you have seen and heard is stored in the subconscious and only the small portion necessary to your daily lives is accessible. The subconscious understands a great deal more, far quicker, than the conscious mind. Something that is a flash for just an instant of time is not noticed by conscious mind but is recorded and acted upon by the subconscious. Over 90% of all data recorded by your mind is subliminal. All of it is used, categorized, and recorded permanently. "Over 2 million pieces of data are stored every day from all five senses. Your eye fixates of objects as much as 100,000 times a day, but very few were worthy of recording in the conscious mind. Have you ever noticed when looking into someone's eyes that they seem to jump around? That is the subconscious ordering a data sweep. You don't notice it because you are used to it by the time you can see clearly." She went to the screen, and flicked another switch. On a display screen, were a series of lines. "Now look." A picture of a desert took the screen. "The sequence is specific. At 3 seconds, this picture flashed for 1/3000 of a second. It flashed every second for ten seconds then was followed by this." A legend flashed. IT'S HOT "That flashed starting at 15 seconds. At 30." I AM THIRSTY "This flashed, alternating with the picture, and 'It's hot' every eight to ten minutes throughout the rest of the film. That-" she pointed at the empties scattered around, "-was the result." She stood, looking at them. "Any questions?" "How does this work?" Van Pelt asked. "Think of the images. The one disadvantage the subconscious has is that it cannot tell truth from lie. A hot desolate waste. Your subconscious believes it is in the desert. Then the statements. It's hot. Again, building anxiety. Suddenly a clue to salvation. I am thirsty. Your subconscious orders the body to drink. The urge is satisfied. Suddenly the anxiety returns." This is what I have created for our dear Vanessa." She motioned toward the screen. The picture changed. This time it was a series of lines. "These will repeat every second with the same 1 3000th speed. The layout is when the sequences begin, and end." SECONDS PICTURE OR LEGEND 01 NO CONTENT 03 VISUAL, WOMAN'S BREASTS 08 YOU WILL WATCH 15 WOMAN STROKING HER OWN BREASTS 19 YOU WILL WATCH AND REMEMBER "As you can see," she motioned down the screen at the numbers. "That the first minute is doing nothing more than getting and keeping his attention. However, starting at the second minute," she motioned 61 WOMAN STROKING HER OWN BREASTS. LARGER VIEW. SHE HAS A PENIS. 62 WOMAN STROKING HER OWN BREASTS AND PENIS 67 I AM NOT MAN. 68 WOMAN FONDLING LIMP PENIS 71 WOMAN KNEELING BEFORE A MAN, FONDLING HIS BALLS, 69 I AM WOMAN 72 WOMAN KNEELING BEFORE THE MAN, FONDLING HIS BALLS, 76 I AM WOMAN 80 VISUAL, ERECT PENIS WOMAN IN FOREGROUND 83 WOMAN IS LIFE 86 WOMAN SUCKING PENIS 120 PENIS LAYING ON CHOPPING BOARD, BLOOD AROUND IT. 125 MAN IS PAIN 140 PENIS LAYING ON CHOPPING BOARD, BLOOD AROUND IT. 150 MAN IS PAIN 160 PENIS LAYING ON CHOPPING BOARD, BLOOD AROUND IT. 165 MAN IS PAIN 200 WOMAN COVERED IN BLOOD, SCREAMING 205 MAN IS DEATH 230 WOMAN COVERED IN BLOOD, SCREAMING 250 MAN IS DEATH 260 ROTTED CORPSE 262 MAN IS DEATH 263 ROTTED CORPSE 264 MAN IS DEATH 265 ROTTED CORPSE 266 MAN IS DEATH 267 ROTTED CORPSE 268 I AM WOMAN 271 WOMAN KNEELING BEFORE THE MAN, FONDLING HIS BALLS, 275 I AM WOMAN 279 VISUAL, ERECT PENIS 282 WOMAN IS LIFE 295 WOMAN SUCKING PENIS 300 PENIS LAYING ON CHOPPING BOARD, BLOOD AROUND IT. 305 MAN IS PAIN 310 PENIS LAYING ON CHOPPING BOARD, BLOOD AROUND IT. 312 MAN IS PAIN 313 PENIS LAYING ON CHOPPING BOARD, BLOOD AROUND IT. 314 MAN IS PAIN 315 WOMAN COVERED IN BLOOD, SCREAMING 319 MAN IS DEATH 320 ROTTED CORPSE 321 MAN IS DEATH 322 ROTTED CORPSE 323 MAN IS DEATH 324 ROTTED CORPSE 325 MAN IS DEATH 326 ROTTED CORPSE The words flashed back to the pain, to the fellatio, segued into anal intercourse, into normal intercourse in half a dozen positions. albeit when the segment was doggy style the penis on the woman was still visible, and was being held back by the woman when in the missionary. The actors came at least three times. Every scene which would have been pleasurable was marked with variations of the Woman Is proper format, and all of the danger or bloody scenes were marked with the Man Is bad format. "As you can see, we will inundate him with this. Every channel on his television has to go through the box that includes this. Even the commercials." "And this will make him change?" Winters asked. "Not by itself," Juliana admitted. "Subliminal suggestion will make changes when you are indifferent, but cannot break deep-seated beliefs. No amount of suggestion by itself will make you start smoking if you thought of it as a nasty habit or change your sexual orientation. "But we won't be doing just this. We will also be attacking his own mind on two fronts. One will be a drug to make the mind more susceptible to suggestion the other..." She walked to the table, and opened a briefcase. "Don brought this voice pattern duplicator, and we will also be using this. Observe." She sat, turned the machine on. "I spent the last three hours speaking normally into a microphone, and that is now recorded. Deirdre?" She motioned. Deirdre sat. "What am I supposed to do?" she asked. Everyone sat bolt upright when the words, in Juliana's voice and inflection, came from the speakers. She motioned to Doctor Chin. When he spoke, it was the same. "With the transceiver, he will hear his own voice, altered to a female pitch, telling him what 'she' wants to do." VII After spending only one night in the common room, Vinnie was happy that he had his own television. There were nine other patients ranging from an eighteen-year-old boy to a sixty-year-old man. They were sometimes lucid, but usually he was unnerved by the vacant looks they had. While the Clinic had satellite television, giving them almost three hundred channels, the patients watched soap operas during the day and the sitcoms at night. Both bored Vinnie to tears. In his own room, he was able to watch sports, movies, anything he desired. The clinic had about half of the pay channels so that he could even see good movies when they were on. It became his habit to watch an hour or so in the morning, unless there was something really good on. Walk the grounds before and after lunch, and then settle down with a good book until dinner. After dinner, he watched whatever was handy that he might like until 10, when they had lights out. He wanted to watch some of the adult channels, but stopped when Vanessa started commenting. She would mention the cock of the actor in the part, and Vinnie just got in the habit of changing the channel when she did. Mark left, and was replaced by a large man with a mustache named Connors. Connors was able to tell Vinnie that the hospital was a private operation run by Solomon, which was funded by Harlan Winters. Vinnie remembered Winters, or rather his brother. He had been the CEO of a company the Organization wanted to control. He was surprised that two people related to his targets were in his life as Vanessa, but not unduly alarmed. He was too good at what he did to worry about retribution except from within the Organization. The clinic was in the mountains of Colorado, set in a pristine valley with nothing around for miles. There was a fence, but it wouldn't deter a determined escape. The road, he had been told, led to a nearby town about fifteen miles away. His two escape attempts however led to him awakening in his room strapped down. One of them had also included a sore ass and sperm in his mouth. He began hoping that Solomon could cure him. The nightmare his life had become had to end. He'd considered suicide, but even that had been taken away. He'd broken the window, grabbed a piece of glass, and found himself strapped down for three days. Twice during that time, he had suddenly come back to discover that someone had been fucking him while he was out. A month passed before he began to notice changes. His moods had been swinging like a clock pendulum. His skin looked smoother than before, and his hair had lightened perceptibly. His hips were widening, and he was astonished to discover that his breasts seemed to be growing. Solomon was just as confused. "This is odd, Vinnie." He checked the chart. As long as Vinnie behaved, Vanessa had been allowing him to run the show. Thanks to this, the chart was almost empty of medication beyond the multivitamin capsules he took every day. "Your body seems to be going through a hormonal shift. But without an outside source of the necessary female hormones, I can't think of what might be causing it." "Could it be the vitamins?" Vinnie asked. "No. You get the same vitamins as the other patients. I take them too." "Then what could be causing this?" "I am not sure. If you don't mind, I will have Connors search your room. Perhaps Vanessa is doing something." A few minutes later, Connors came out of the room. In his hand he had a single edge razor blade, and two clinic sized bottles, one marked ESTROGEN the other PREMARIN. "There's only five left in each bottle," Connors reported. "Out of five hundred if it was full." Vinnie started at the bottle. While he was out, without him even noticing, the bitch had been feeding him drugs. "What does that do?" Solomon held the bottles. "It is a mixture of Female hormones. Usually given to women in menopause." He looked at Vinnie. "It is also used in sexual reassignment surgery to induce physical changes that make a man's body female. We don't know how long Vanessa had this bottle, or how many were in it when she stole it. We also don't know how long she had you on a hormone regimen before we caught it." He turned to the orderly. "Get the nurse, and have her bring a syringe and blood tubes." The nurse came, and Solomon took samples of Vinnie's blood. "We'll know later today what the concentration of hormones is in your blood, Vinnie. Maybe you should have a talk with Vanessa and see what is happening." Vinnie went back into his room. "What have you done, you bitch!" So willing to suck another dick? "Oh, please-" You know how to ask. He sighed in pain. "What have I done to myself?" You stole bottles of pills, and have been taking them since you arrived. Five a day, every day. Vinnie wanted to scream. "How long have you- Have I been doing this?" Since January of last year. The effects are irreversible now, Vinnie dear. You are going to be a woman. He collapsed, face in his hands. Oh, and the razor? That was in case things didn't move fast enough. You see, you can't commit suicide, but I can. Vinnie began to cry. Solomon dropped the blood onto the tray,