One Day At A Time (Part One) free porn video

One Day at a Time (Part One) By Lost The trees continued to fly by as Mark starred out the window. It was incredibly boring; Mark had always hated long trips. Occasionally, a small town would break up the monotony of the drive, but this temporary reprieve from the field of trees only served to make him nervous, as the names became less and less familiar. He decided to break his silence. "Will you please tell me where we're going?" he asked his stepmother, the woman behind the wheel. She hesitated before answering. She'd previously only said vague things about "something that had happened" when he pressed her, once he'd realized that they weren't driving home. Despite his curiosity, he hadn't pressed her for details, as he'd long since given up trying to converse with the woman. She was bitter, eccentric, and over all just plain unpleasant to talk to, though things hadn't always been that way. "We're going to a cabin owned by one of my friends. We'll be there sometime early tomorrow morning." He frowned. "Why are we going there? Is dad coming? He never mentioned any kind of a trip." Again she hesitated. "Mark, there's something I've got to tell you. I've been trying to think of a way to break it to you, but while you were at school, the police discovered a plot by an associate of your father's to kidnap you and hold you for ransom. Your father asked me to take you somewhere safe for now." Immediately, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Dad runs a small business; there's no way that someone targeted me for ransom, he thought to himself, but he didn't voice this opinion. He knew right then who the kidnapper was, but realized that before he started making an escape plan, he'd better try to figure out why his stepmother would do such a thing. Six years ago, the then seven year old boy's father, Mark Allen Sr. had married Diane Schmidt. They'd met at a "coping with death" group therapy session; Mark Sr.'s wife had died when Mark Jr. was just over a year old in a car accident, and Diane had lost a daughter in childbirth. They'd hit it off well, and after a five year courtship they'd gotten married. Mark Jr. had been thrilled at the development, and they'd lived happily together for four years. Unfortunately, the last two years had been growing more and more difficult. After Diane had lost her second daughter, again during childbirth, the wonderful woman Mark Sr. had married disappeared. She became distant, prone to outbursts of tears that would turn to violent spells and paranoia. She'd spent months in clinics and therapy, and only within the past six months had she begun to show results, as she'd become calmer and more stable and had been released from the clinic. She was down to monthly talks with a therapist and weekly group counseling sessions. Considering the woman's history, Mark decided to wait until she realized what she was doing before taking action. He knew that the woman his father had married still existed within the lady in the driver's seat, and he knew she wouldn't hurt him. He decided to feign ignorance of the situation for the time being, and then watch for his chance to summon help when the opportunity presented itself. Deep down, he felt pity for the woman; she'd discovered hundred of "plots" against the family last year, when she'd been at her worst. The fact that she'd reverted back to this state after all the progress she'd made during the last six months troubled him. "Is dad okay?" he asked her. She assured him that his father was fine, and Mark turned his attention back to the trees outside. Dad must be worried sick, he thought to himself. Mark made a few attempts at conversation, in an attempt to gage her state of mind, but she insisted on keeping her attention on the road. After a few hours, the sky began to darken, and soon the sun plunged below the trees on the horizon. With nothing to look at outside but road illuminated by the car's headlights, Mark began to tire. He unbuckled his shoulder strap and placed himself vertical across the backseat. Laying his head down on his backpack, which served as a makeshift pillow, he starred at the car's ceiling before falling asleep. "I sure hope she's better tomorrow..." The next day, Mark awoke in a strange bed. He glanced about the small room and then slowly got out of bed. He glanced around for his backpack and realized that it must still be in the car. Not that he cared; he was hardly in the mood to do his homework anyways. Still wearing his clothes from the night before, he opened the door and walked down a hallway until he reached a kitchen. There, his stepmother was sitting at a table, eating breakfast. Another woman was frying eggs at a stove. "Good morning, Mark. Sleep well?" Surprisingly, despite the situation, he had. "When we arrived, you were out cold, so I carried you inside." Mark nodded. The second woman smiled at him. "Mark, I'd like you to meet Patty. She's offered to let us stay here until it's safe to go home." Mark forced a smile, frustrated that she still believed in her "kidnapping" plot. Still, he knew that her paranoia spells usually lasted less than three days. "Nice to meet you, Mark," said Patty. "Make yourself at home here. But please stay inside unless we're with you; there've been a lot of grizzly bears seen in the area, and a woman in town got mauled pretty badly three weeks ago." He nodded; he had no desire to wind up bear food. "Here, your breakfast is almost ready. Why don't you have a seat at the table?" The day went by slowly. He took a shower, and wound up wearing a bathrobe until his old clothes were washed and dried. "Too bad she didn't plan this out better; she didn't bring any clothes for either of us." Afterwards, boredom reigned. The cottage was powered by a generator, and there were no TVs or video games to occupy his time. The two women were busy, which meant that leaving the cabin was out of the question as he couldn't go outside alone. There was also no phone, he noted with a frown. Both his stepmother and Patty were busy with something or other all day and they kept shooing him away, which gave him a bad feeling, but he decided to ignore it so long as he couldn't do anything. Fortunately, there were some books lying around, so he settled down on the bed and read Tom Sawyer for most of the afternoon, pausing only to eat lunch. A few hours later, his stepmother interrupted him. "Mark? We're going to head into town to try to call your father. Coming?" That left him feeling confused, but he nodded. Hopefully his father would be able to set his stepmother straight, and he could go home. He followed her out to the garage and got into the backseat of Patty's car. She started the engine and they then began the hour long drive into town. By the time they reached the town, it had started to get dark. They stopped at a drive through and ordered a quick meal, and then went to a nearby park to eat. "We'll eat first and then we'll call your father," said his stepmother, and Mark nodded, and took a seat at a nearby picnic table. "I've got to go to the bathroom though, so why don't you and Patty start without me?" She left, and Mark sat in silence with the other woman. She seemed nice enough, but she didn't seem much for conversation, so he ate in silence, swatting at bugs that had been drawn near by the streetlight overhead. After he finished, he noticed that his stepmother hadn't returned. "She sure is taking a long time..." He helped Patty clean up their mess on the table and anxiously waited another five minutes until she finally reappeared. They walked over to the pay phone and she dialed the number. "Hello Mark!" she said, speaking into the phone. She paused a moment, and then said, "Yep! He's right here! Here he is!" She handed the phone to Mark Jr. "Dad?" he asked the receiver. His dad had a note of panic in his voice which Mark didn't fail to notice. "Mark? Are you okay?" "Yeah, I'm fine, Dad. What's going on?" There was a pause, and then he replied, "There, uh, seems to have been a kidnapping plot. I can't really talk about it right now, but we're working to find who's responsible and get you back home." That surprised Mark. Had his stepmother been telling the truth? "Dad? Why would someone want to kidnap me?" he asked him. Another pause. "The uh, police really don't want me to discuss this right now." There was a moment of silence, and when he spoke again, Mark could hear a hint of strain and frustration in his father's voice. "Um Mark? I've got to go. I'm glad you're okay, though!" There was a pause, and then he added, "Listen to your stepmother, okay?" "Okay, Dad! Love you!" "Love you too, son! Talk to you soon I hope!" "Bye, Dad! Did you want to talk to Diane?" Yet another pause. "Sure, put her back on-" Suddenly, the line went dead. Mark glanced up at his stepmother. "What happened? The line went dead!" "I don't know," she said. "Probably just a dropped call." She glanced at the burger still sitting in its wrapper. "Let me eat my meal and then we'll get out of here, okay?" Mark watched his stepmother eat in silence, thoughts racing through his head. "Could she have really been telling the truth?" That seemed unlikely, but his dad had confirmed the story. Still, he sure was acting funny. This whole situation is insane! he thought to himself. Eventually, his stepmother finished eating. She'd taken forever to eat her burger and fries, and Patty had left to go sit in the car and warm up the engine. This too struck Mark as odd, as it was still only early October and nowhere near cold enough to warrant such an activity. Mark helped his stepmother clean up the table. Suddenly, a car flew into the park and came to an abrupt stop nearby. Immediately, a man jumped out and began walking towards them. Seeing this, Diane yelled, "Run! Get in the car, Mark!" Confused, Mark did as she asked. The man fired a shot in the air and then yelled, "Give me the boy and no one gets hurt!" Mark kept running and the man started firing. Somehow, they made it safely into the car, and they took off. Cursing, the man fired a few more shots that went wide, and then ran back to his car. They raced through the streets wildly. Mark kept glancing back, but saw no sign of pursuit after the first couple of minutes. Finally, they slowed back to the speed limit and headed for the highway. "I think we've lost him," said Patty. "What just happened?" Diane shook her head. "I think somehow, the kidnapper traced the call, and sent someone after us." Mark frowned. It was really unlikely that there would just happen to be someone working for the kidnapper or whatever in this tiny little rural town, and no one would show up that fast! None of this made sense! He spoke up. "Maybe we should go to the police." "No, Mark. The only way they could have traced the call is if they had help from someone on the inside. No, I think we're going to have to run, and hope this gets sorted out later." Silently, Mark starred into the darkness outside his window. "Why me?" he thought to himself, but no answer came to mind. "Nothing makes sense anymore." He sighed. "I guess I'll have to take this one day at a time." ***** Diane glanced back at the boy in the backseat. "I sure hope he's worth all this trouble," she muttered under her breath. Silently, she was fuming. That idiot Warner! Couldn't do a god damn thing right. She knew she shouldn't have gone cheap. She'd hired the man to stage the "kidnapping" incident, but he was such a bad actor! "God, I just hope the boy didn't notice that he wasn't aiming anywhere near us." It had been a long two days. She'd spent most of it finalizing her plan with Patty, going over the details. It was a good thing she'd met her in therapy, she thought. Patty had been the one to suggest the gunman, in order to earn the boy's trust. If they were going to get away with it, they needed the boy's trust; otherwise, he'd just sneak off and talk to a cop and it'd all be over. Planning the scheme in the early stages had been difficult, especially when talking with the psychiatrist weekly, and then once a month. She spent every session terrified that the shrink would find out; maybe someone would tell him. But the doctor never found out, and Mark Sr. had been so happy over her recovery that he overlooked any quirks in her personality. She knew he had hidden millions away from her. She knew it. He had to have, she wasn't wrong in this. If there was one thing she was certain of, it was that there were millions. How she knew this, she couldn't remember, but she'd never been more certain of anything. It had outraged her that he would hide this money from her. She had considered divorce first, but she knew that no one but her husband knew of the hidden money, the real profits of his business. No, she'd have to get it out of him some other way. It had been Patty who'd suggested kidnapping. She might have even been the one who found out about the millions. Diane didn't remember, and she didn't care. They'd become close friends at the clinic, and Diane had been saddened when she'd been deemed safe enough to leave. But they'd started their plan, and they were finally pulling it off! She'd called him while she pretended to be in the bathroom. Sure, it had been hard convincing her husband to read off of her script on the phone, but a death threat against a loved one could work wonders where cooperation was lacking. Luckily, Patty had tapped into the phone earlier and was listening, to ensure that Mark Sr. hadn't let anything slip. She'd even been able to cut the line when it seemed the man had been trying to hold them there longer. Patty was a godsend. She thought of what she'd do with her share of the money. The first installment was coming shortly; she'd left instructions with the boy's father as to how to pay her. Patty had shown her a way they could collect the money without getting caught. Of course Mark Sr. had claimed that a hundred million dollars was too much to pay, that there was no way he could ever pay it, but Diane knew better. Still, she humored him, and agreed to accept payments in return for the boy's safety. Soon she'd have half a million waiting for her. Well, two hundred thousand, after taking out Patty's share. She owed Patty so much. Patty even had promised that she'd help her get better; she'd been giving her the real medicine, the ones the doctors didn't want you to have; otherwise, how would the doctors get rich? Patty was a pharmacist or something, Diane couldn't remember. But Patty could save her when the doctors couldn't. Patty had even lost a child during birth too. She'd told her so. They were kindred spirits. She glanced over at Patty. The other woman was smiling, her dark hair seeming blacker against the night sky. The next part of the plan would start soon. They'd switch cars; they'd tell the boy that they were borrowing a car from a trusted friend, so that they'd be less traceable. In actuality, they'd stashed the car there earlier in preparation. They'd split up briefly; they'd take the new car and Patty would hide their car somewhere that the cops wouldn't find for hopefully several weeks. They'd pick up Patty, who would have taken their disguises out of the trunk before hand. The boy wasn't going to like his disguise, but hopefully the gunman would have scared him enough to cooperate. Then, it would be northward to the relative safety of rural Canada. ***** He glanced up at his stepmother in disbelief. "You want me to do what?" They'd spent the better part of the night driving, once they'd picked up Patty again. It seemed that in the time that they'd been separated that she'd been able to go shopping, as she'd had a couple shopping bags when they met up again. During the night, she hadn't said anything about the bags. That is, until that morning when they'd stopped at a wayside. "Your stepmother and I both feel that our best chance of avoiding detection is to wear disguises. We're both dying our hair and wearing colored contact lenses. We're also changing our hairstyle and wearing baggy clothes and glasses. Hopefully this will be enough, but they're looking all over for a young boy with your description. They're not looking for a girl." "No way! I don't want any part of this!" Was everyone but him insane? His stepmother looked down at him. "Look. If we can't pull it off convincingly, we won't do it. Alright?" Reluctantly, he agreed. There was no way that this was going to work, he thought while silently fuming. He was boy through and through, and he knew that clothes didn't make the man. "Let's get this over with," he muttered. The three of them went into the woman's restroom and locked the door. They first started by stripping him naked, and then had him cover his arms and legs and face with some sort of chemical. After ten minutes, he was instructed to rinse it out in the shower, and to his dismay, all the light hair that had just recently begun growing on his body went down the drain. He glanced over at the pile of clothes that they had selected for him, less than pleased at the choices. Embarrassed, he slipped on the pink panties. "Use the tape to hold back your privates! We can't let that show through!" called Diane from the other room. "What?" he glanced down at the roll of tape with a feeling of dread. "Why did Dad tell me to listen to her?" he moaned softly. He slipped down the underwear and adjusted the telltale bulge. "God damn it!" The next item left him puzzled. "What do I need a bra?" he called out. "Put the socks in the cups!" responded the woman from hell, as he was beginning to think of her. It took him a moment to figure the damnable garment out, but he reluctantly put that on, too. "I'm supposed to take these off, not put them on!" he muttered to himself. Like the underwear, the shirt was pink. The shirt had the unpleasant slogan, "Girls Kick Butt!" emblazoned across the chest. The white skirt, coming to just above the knee, was another blow to his damaged masculinity. "I look stupid!" he announced as he stepped out of the shower booth. "That's because we're not finished yet, Mark," said Diane. "Now, make up." He turned to look at her, his stomach churning at her words, and noticed that she was no longer a blonde; she'd just finished dying her hair red. Nearby, Patty had gone from black to brown, and she was cutting her hair while glancing in the mirror, giving her bangs that she had lacked before. The makeup was almost as humiliating as the clothing, he thought to himself. He licked his lips, then instantly regretting it as he forced himself to ignore the taste of the light pink lipstick. His eyebrows still stung a bit from the plucking. His pink fingernails, with slight glue on extensions, made his hands look more feminine than he wanted (as if he wanted them to look feminine in the first place!), and his pink toenails were clearly visible from his white sandals, which had an inch heel. They took a little getting used to, but he was just glad that he didn't need to try anything higher. "And now, the final touch!" spoke Diane as she placed a shoulder length red wig on the top of his head. She combed it in place and then pulled him by the hand over to the mirror. He was horrified. While it wasn't the most convincing work, what he saw reflected in the mirror was the face of a girl his age. Additionally, the socks in the bra gave the illusion of small breasts. Sure, if he looked hard enough, he could see through the disguise, but he knew that no one would know to look. The girl reflected wasn't the prettiest girl, but she wasn't ugly, either. Unfortunately, either way, she was still him. Patty came over to comment. "Not bad. We'll work on it more later once we've got more time and security. But it'll pass." What did she mean, work on it more later? "You two ready?" she finished. "Almost," said his stepmother. She reached into a bag and pulled out two sets of contact lenses. She handed one to Mark. "Here, put these on; they're green lenses. I'll show you how." She demonstrated, and he reluctantly put the lenses in place. "Remember, we're a mother and daughter now. I don't know if the kidnappers have men with the border patrol, but we're better safe than sorry." After gathering their things, they hit the road again. Silence ensued for several hours. Mark was trying to figure out how his life had gotten away from him so fast when Diane spoke up. "You need a new name, too. We can't call you Mark for obvious reasons, and a name like Marcia would be too obvious. So, I've decided that your new name is going to be Allison." "No way! What the hell kind of name is that?" he replied, outraged. She hadn't even asked him any input! Not that it really mattered, he quickly added to his thoughts, as he wouldn't be staying like this, safety or no, once they got into Canada. "The matter has been settled, Allison. I suggest you get used to the name for now." Still protesting, she silenced him with a wave of her hand. "I'm doing this for your own good, young lady! I am not going to risk my life unnecessarily, so you will stop your selfish complaining right now!" He shut up after that. He was alarmed that she had referred to him as a "young lady." Even if she was apparently still unaffected by mental illness, the way that she'd so quickly stopped referring to him as a boy frightened him. Who knew what could be going on inside that mind of hers? Still, he had little control over the situation. He adjusted the wig slightly, and then resumed his starring out the window. They made it to the Canadian border at around midnight. They hadn't stopped along the way, eating food from the shopping bags while driving. They managed to find a border crossing station that was closed for repairs, and they snuck through under cover of darkness. "And now it's just a fifteen hour drive to our cabin!" declared Patty. Mark groaned. At least no one had seen him, dressed as he was. He couldn't wait to get there and get out of the ridiculous clothes that he was wearing. They stopped for lunch at a small family diner, despite Mark's protests. "Why can't we go through a drive through?" he asked. "Because we want to stretch our legs, and we're sick of fast food," shot back his stepmother. They'd stopped at a wayside briefly to change and shower, though they insisted that Mark continue wearing the girl's clothes. They'd had a little more time to spend on his makeup, and as a result, Mark's disguise was a good deal better than it had been the other day, which was ironic since yesterday is when he figured he'd needed it the most. "Come on inside, Allison, no one will notice. Just don't talk unless you have to, and when you do, use that voice we had you work on." "Can't you-" he began, until he was interrupted. "Not like that, higher!" demanded Diane. Mark scowled, and continued in a forced falsetto, "Can't you just bring some food out to me?" Patty scowled. She'd been quiet throughout most of the morning, except for a few times when she'd criticized the boy. "Ugh, that voice won't convince anyone; you were supposed to be practicing! At least your voice hasn't changed much yet, just talk softer, and don't talk at all unless you have to! And no, we are not ordering take out. We need to see how well the disguise works, anyways." Who did this woman think she was, ordering him around? He'd asked his stepmother why she was coming with, and she's said something about Patty having "contacts" all over. And then she'd pointed out that they were in Patty's car. Once they'd taken a seat inside, a waitress came over to them. "Hello, I'm Samantha, and I'll be your waitress today. Are you ready to order or do you need more time?" Diane nodded. "I'll have the ham and cheese on rye bread, please, with a diet Coke, and my daughter Allison will have the soup and salad with a diet Coke as well." Mark missed Patty's order as his heart skipped a beat. Did she just order him soup and a salad, and a DIET coke? She didn't even ask what he wanted, but he was too scared of being caught that he dared not to speak up. He waited until Samantha had left before he spoke. "I don't want no salad, and I hate diet soda! Why did you order that?" "Quiet down, Allison, or someone will hear you!" Diane glanced around to confirm that no one had heard, and then turned her attention to the boy. "A diet soda will hardly kill you. You'll be fine." Mark ate his lunch in silence, frustrated that the food had done little to quiet his stomach. When the waitress came back later with the check, she gestured towards Mark. "Ma'am? Where did you get that outfit for your daughter? She looks so cute! I just have to buy something like that for my kid sister!" Mark felt like throwing up. "I got them at a Shopko, on clearance, back in the States. Maybe they'll have something like that here?" Samantha thanked her, and then they left and paid the bill. Despite his loathing of the drive, Mark was more than happy to in the backseat once more, starring out at nothing. When they'd finally arrived at their destination late that night, Patty showed Diane and Mark their rooms. Mark quickly stripped out of all the clothing except the panties and immediately plunged into a dreamless sleep on the soft bed. ***** "So, the little twerp is out cold, right?" asked Patty. "Yeah. She fell asleep almost as soon as her head hit the covers," replied Diane. She was so cute, she thought to herself, she didn't even make it underneath the covers. Diane had tucked Allison in properly, just before sitting down with Patty in the dinning room. "Good. Make sure that he doesn't get out; the last thing we need is for him to overhear us." Patty absently glanced down the hallway, noting that the door was still closed tightly. "Yeah, she'll be fine. Allison won't be running off anywhere, anyways." Patty frowned. "You do realize that you're going to have to stop calling him that, don't you? The whole purpose of the disguise was in case we got stopped by a patrol or had problems at the border. There's no need for it now." Diane looked crestfallen. "Oh, I see. I guess I just kind of liked having a daughter." Patty paused. "You do realize that he's not yours, right? The whole purpose of this was to ransom him off and live the rest of our lives in luxury." Diane looked down at her hands. "Yeah. It's just... well, when he became Allison... it was like I'd had another chance at having the daughters I'd lost. But I suppose..." Patty thought for a moment. "Well, if it means that much to you, maybe I can think of a way that we get our money and you get your daughter." Diane's face lit up. "Really? What did you have in mind?" Her heart was beating in her chest rapidly. She knew she could count on Patty! "Well... your husband seems like he's going to be taking his time with the payments, as he continues to say that he doesn't have a hundred million. So naturally, we'll keep the boy here until he pays the price in full." Diane nodded. "Now, normally in hostage situations when the other end doesn't pay, you start sending fingers or other parts of the hostage home to motivate them. Instead, we could start the boy on hormones and anti-androgens. He's a late bloomer and just barely started puberty; the anti-androgens should be able to halt or even completely reverse the changes his body has begun going through. Then, the estrogens should start changing the boy into the daughter you deserve. We could then send photographs back to your husband to encourage cooperation. Everybody wins!" Somewhere in the back of her mind, a voice screamed out against abusing her stepson in this manner, but she still found herself smiling and replying, "When do we get started?" ***** Mark woke late the next morning and found his male clothes lying on the dresser next to the bag full of girl's items. He smiled when he saw that his old clothes had been washed. He carried them into the bathroom, relieved to be able to step out of the dreadful pink panties. After his shower, he dressed himself in the familiar shorts and T-shirt, though he winced at his hairless legs. It was barely noticeable, as he'd never had much hair to begin with, but he'd been proud that he'd finally started growing body hair after waiting so long for it to start, and now that hair was gone. "At least I'm alive," he muttered under his breath, trying to look on the bright side of things. He left the bathroom and tossed the panties in a hamper. The he went out to look for his stepmother. He found her in the living room of the cottage. "Good morning... Mark! Sleep well?" "Yeah, I guess," he answered. "I see you've found your clothes. It's probably fine to wear them around here, but you might want to consider a different outfit for when we go to town, later." Given that Mark only had a single set of clothes, he knew just what kind of different outfit she meant. "We're not going to force you, since we don't think they know you're in Canada, but it would really be a good idea." Mark shook his head. "No, I think I'll be fine. What are we going to town for?" "We need to get some food and you're going to need some clothes to wear around the house. I also thought that you might appreciate some sort of portable video game system, since we don't have a TV here. It might also be useful if we have to suddenly go across country again." Mark's eyes lit up. "Wow, really? That would be great!" Just then, Patty opened the door from the kitchen. "I also need to run into work and grab a few things, so I'll drive you two in." Curious, Mark asked her, "What do you do for a living?" Patty smiled. "This and that. I travel around the U.S. and Canada, doing things for a company I work for." She glanced at Diane and the boy. "Actually, if you guys are ready, we can go right now. You might want to change, though, Mark." Mark shook his head, and they headed into town. It was a ten minute drive, and Mark was amazed at how far away from everything they were. There were only a few houses between their place and the town, and even the town was pretty small, with a population of just above two thousand. Still, like just about everywhere else, it had a Wal-Mart. Patty dropped them off and they did their shopping. True to her word, Diane bought Mark a Nintendo DS and a few games, along with half a dozen outfits. Afterwards, they met Patty in the parking lot and headed back to the house. After the shopping trip, Mark played with his Nintendo for a while, and then decided to explore the area around the house. He had to promise to stay within eyesight of the building, as Patty had said that they did get grizzly bears around the area. Fortunately, they weren't as common as near her other place back in the States. He chased some frogs in a nearby creek and looked for areas that he might be able to go fishing from. It felt so good to do typical boy stuff after having spent the last two days in skirts and a bra. After he'd gotten done playing, he went back inside for supper, and then played more on his new Nintendo. While he was homesick and missed his father, he knew he couldn't call him to check in. Fortunately, things weren't too bad for him with his stepmother and Patty in Canada. He smiled. At least he didn't have to go to school! The rest of the week went by quickly. Patty had left the next day on a business trip, leaving Mark alone with his stepmother for three days. While she still seemed a bit eccentric, and he occasionally noticed her acting strangely in other ways, she mostly seemed to be back to normal. If she goes back to the woman she was before she lost the baby, thought Mark, this whole experience might be worth it in the long run. Friday came and went, and Mark realized that it had been a week since he'd left school with his stepmother. Aside from the two days in the disguise, the man shooting at him, and the general fear that hung over the experience, things weren't that bad, he thought. "Still," he muttered, "I wish I knew how dad was doing, and when I could come back home." ***** Mark Sr. read over the note one last time, with an expression of stunned disbelief on his face. Beside him, Police Sergeant Wilkins tried to comfort him. "At least we know where they sent the letter from. We've got officers all over Sarasota, searching for him. With any luck, we'll find him before any harm is done." Mark nodded. "It's just so hard to believe. I couldn't understand how she could have kidnapped him in the first place, but now, I can't see how anyone could possibly suggest doing such a thing to my son!" Wilkins scowled. "She's a sick woman, that's for sure." Strangely, a part of him still loved her. "We need to get her some help. After we rescue Mark, that is." He glanced at the note. "I don't know what to do, though. It was hard enough getting the half a million dollars for the first payment. Now, she's demanding ten million by next Friday or she's going to start turning my son into a girl! That's only eight days!" Wilkins placed a hand on the father's shoulder. "I'm sure she's just bluffing. But you should probably try to send something, if you can. Just in case. We'll be able to recover most of it once we find them." You really need to work on your people skills, thought Mark Sr., but he kept his mouth shut. "The problem is that I've already offered the bank all my shares in the company. Another million's all I've got, but it'll cost me everything; my business, the hunting land up north, my retirement plan... maybe even the house! I don't know why she thinks I've got hundreds of millions; she's seen the profit reports." "We'll see what we can do to help, Mr. Allen. But sometimes it's best to just give these people what they want for the time being. Your son will be safe in the end, you'll see." Mark forced a smile. But deep down, his heart was breaking, especially from being forced to tell his son to cooperate with the woman who'd abducted him. A part of him regretted taking the advice of the police and not blurted out what was going on; at least then Mark Jr. would know who the real kidnappers were. Still, he knew he couldn't have lived with himself if they had killed the boy for resisting. He sighed. That was in the past, and now all he could do was raise money and wait. It was going to be an awful eight days, and then some. ***** Mark woke with a yawn. He wondered what he'd do today. He'd spent the last couple days fishing; Diane had taken him to pick up some fishing equipment back on Tuesday, and he'd spent the past three days learning to catch trout in the stream by the house. They were difficult to catch as they were wary fish, but he was getting good at it. He was just thankful that his father had taught him how to clean fish last year; he'd cooked dinner for the two women last night, much to his stepmother's delight. Few foods could beat baked trout, and his stepmother had been so proud that he'd tried cooking. Still, he decided that he didn't want to go fishing. He wasn't sick of the sport, but felt like doing something different. It was too nice of a day to play the Nintendo, but he didn't have too many other options. He wished that there was somebody his age for him to play with, but that wasn't an option, especially since everyone his age would be in school at this time. Shrugging, he took his shower and got dressed. He glanced in the mirror and realized that his hair was looking a little shaggy and he could probably go for a haircut. It had been almost two months since his last cut and he was overdue for one. Breakfast was waiting for him in the kitchen, still warm. He ate his pancakes in silence, and then downed his orange juice while trying to ignore the strange aftertaste. Ever since he'd come to Canada he'd noticed it. It wasn't a terrible taste, but it was different. Must be something about the Canadian brand, he thought to himself. He met up with his stepmother in the living room. "Morning," he said as he entered the room. She briefly glanced up from the magazine she was reading. "Good morning." He paused before speaking. "Do you think I could get a haircut sometime soon? It's starting to get long." She glanced up from reading her magazine to regard his hair. She had a wistful look in her eye that Mark regarded as curious. "Uh, yeah, sure. I was just thinking about heading into Vernon to do some shopping. It's a bit of a drive, about an hour." "Alright. I don't have anything better to do." "You might want to change, though. Vernon is a decent sized city." Mark shook his head. "No, that's okay. I'll be fine." Mark turned and headed to his room to go get his Nintendo, completely missing the gleam in his stepmother's eyes. After arriving in Vernon, Diane began her shopping, dragging the complaining young boy with her. "Can't I go look around the cool stores?" She shook her head. "No, it'll only be a little bit, and then we'll get your hair cut. If you'd like, you can rest on the bench outside the store." Grumbling, the boy sat down and pulled out his Nintendo while he waited for the woman to finish shopping. After ten minutes, he started to get impatient, and decided he might have a better time checking out the girls his age. It was then that he noticed the man watching him a short distance away. That's odd, he thought to himself. Just then, realizing he'd been noticed, the man started to approach him. Unsettled, Mark stood up and started to back away. "He's over here!" shouted the man. With that, he turned to run, and noticed his stepmother coming out of the store. She saw the man and yelled, "Run!" Two men pursued Mark as he weaved his way through the crowd, but his smaller size made it easier for him to navigate the crowd. His stepmother was following closely behind. "Come on, there's a door around the corner," urged Diane. He nodded. Putting on an extra burst of speed, they darted through and made their way outside. Mark saw no sign of pursuit, and wondered if they'd lost them. "They lost their chance. Once you spotted them, they knew they wouldn't be able to get you out without security stopping them. Let's just get out of here, though." Mark nodded, and they raced back to their car and headed home. Once they got home, Diane headed straight for the phone. A few minutes later, she approached Mark. "Well, Patty says we'd best move on, they might have traced us here. She knows some people in Prince Albert, in Saskatchewan, so we're headed there." "What's with Canadians and their names?" asked Mark. Diane scowled. "Now is not the time for jokes. If you'd changed like I'd asked, we wouldn't be in this mess. Do you want to be kidnapped?" "Why can't I just dye my hair or something? How do you even know that the ?disguise' even works?" he asked her. It wasn't fair that all she did was change how she dressed and wore her hair, and he had to degrade himself by dressing as a girl. "Because they're looking for a boy, not a girl!" She placed her hands on her hips impatiently. "Why don't you go get dressed. I'll help you with your makeup and we'll get out of here. It's a good sixteen hours to Saskatchewan, though we'll be staying at a hotel tonight." He continued complaining, but she silenced him. "No! There's no arguing. This is the only way I know that will keep you safe, so you're going to do as I say! Your father told you to listen to me, and you're going to!" With that, she pulled Mark by the hand and into his room. She tossed him another pair of the dreaded pink panties, a matching bra, white T-shirt, and a black skirt, and then stormed out of the room. "You've got ten minutes to get dressed and packed. I'll go start packing the car." Grumbling, he did as she ordered, swearing as he applied the tape to hide the slight bulge in the panties. "Damn it, this is insane!" he muttered. "At the very least, she could have bought some jeans!" He continued getting dressed, and when his stepmother hadn't returned, he grabbed his few belongings and threw them into the bag containing the rest of the girl's clothes. Shortly after he'd finished packing, his stepmother returned and applied some makeup to his face. "Pay attention, Allison. You're going to have to learn how to do this yourself." Something inside of him snapped, but the seriousness of the situation prevented him from going into a berserk rage. Instead, he took a deep breath and prayed that this would soon be over. They drove until midnight and then stopped at a run down motel in a small town along the way. An overweight, middle aged man was dozing off in a chair near the counter, but he stood up when his stepmother cleared her throat. "I'd like a room for the night," stated Diane. "Thirty bucks," grunted the man, looking Diane over rudely. She ignored him and took two bills out of purse. "Do you take American money?" she asked. The man just grunted. "Everywhere takes American money." He tossed her a key, and then noticed Mark, looking him up and down. "Room 9B, left side, three doors down. Can't miss it," he said, not taking his eyes off of Mark. Mark followed his stepmother in disgust. "God damn pervert," he muttered. "Get used to it, Allison," said a tired Diane. "Men are pigs, though most are decent enough not to stare, especially at thirteen year old girls." Mark shuddered, though he felt a little guilty. He'd only started to notice girls a year or two ago, and he hoped that he hadn't ever been so rude. The room was small, with a single bed. Diane pointed towards the bathroom. "You might as well go and remove your makeup. And keep your clothes on; no sense taking any risks. We're checking out at 8:00, so you'd best be up by seven or so." Mark nodded. He removed the makeup, having learned the hard way that leaving makeup on overnight wasn't the best idea during the trip in to Canada, and went to the bathroom. At least he still peed like a boy, he thought to himself, though he wondered for how long he'd be allowed to even do that much. Afterwards, he reapplied the tape and went back to the bedroom. "You can have the left side, it's cleaner," said Diane. Mark climbed in, feeling uncomfortable about sleeping in the same bed as his stepmother, but he shrugged it aside. Compared to sleeping in a skirt, it seemed tame by comparison. Within minutes, he fell asleep. The next morning he got up and got showered and dressed, this time in a pale yellow sleeveless shirt with a light blue skirt. As Diane applied his makeup, she told him what she was doing and why, expecting him to learn an art he had no interest in. Still, he paid attention, not eager to get on her bad side again. When they left, the overweight man continued checking out Mark, but he did his best to ignore him and rushed out the door as fast as possible. And then they were once again on the road. It was 6:00 that night before they finally reached Prince Albert, stopping briefly at McDonald's for breakfast and lunch. They found the address without incident, and walked up to the door. Diane knocked twice. An elderly man opened the door and smiled at them. "Hello, there! You must be the Collins! Trisha told me to expect you. I'm Jonathan Denson." Mark was puzzled, until he realized that Patty must have given the man false names. Diane nodded. "That's right. I'm Diane, and this is my daughter, Allison. We're here to rent the house." Jonathan shook his head. "Rent? I'm sorry; Trisha called me back and made me an offer to buy it instead. Maybe you'll be renting from Trisha now, but in any event, she told me to let you guys in. She'll be coming by on Monday to finalize the sale; you'll have to talk to her then." Diane and Jonathan talked a little, and then he waved goodbye and left. Diane pulled the car into the garage and then she had Mark help her unload it. Their belongings were depressingly scant. There were three bedrooms in the house. Diane took the largest of the three, and gave Mark the second largest. It was nicer than the room he'd had back home with his father, but it made him uncomfortable. The room looked perfectly fine but seemed to have a feminine aura to it, perhaps due to the vanity against one wall, and the walk-in closet. Diane noticed the vanity too. "Oh, that's nice. You can use that for your makeup!" He grimaced. "Is it really necessary for me to continue this facade?" She gave him a look. "It wasn't at the last place in the middle of nowhere, but it will be here. Prince Albert is a decent sized city." "Yeah, but how do we know they'll even look here? We're a long ways from where we were seen last." He had to think fast. This might be his last chance to get free of the curse that had been thrust upon him by his stepmother. "They're looking all over. We might have run into a string of bad luck, or maybe they somehow followed us, but we've got to be safe." "Yeah, but I find it really hard to believe that they've got men spread around all over the country," he protested. She looked him in the eyes, and then glanced down. "I didn't want to tell you earlier and scare you, but maybe you need to know how serious this is." She paused. "We think that the person trying to kidnap you is with the Mafia. Your father angered and embarrassed a mob boss accidentally last month, and he swore to get even. Shortly afterwards, we found evidence that they were going to try abducting you. So now you know. They've got resources, and they're dedicated to seeing this through. That's why we need to be so careful. Do you understand?" It took a moment for the information to sink in. He was wanted by the mob? He didn't like the sound of that. It seemed so unbelievable, but there'd already been two attempts at kidnapping or killing him already. He nodded. "Alright, I'll cooperate. When do you think this will be over?" Diane shook her head. "I don't have any idea, but hopefully soon. But until then, you're going to have to do some difficult things, but it's important that you never let down the impression that you're a girl. You have to be Allison, day in, day out, and most importantly, you have to be her convincingly! Otherwise, you might die." Reluctantly, he nodded. It didn't make much sense to him, but he figured that it was best to trust her judgment. She was an adult, after all, and his father trusted her. He just hoped she knew what she was doing. Diane took Mark out for a quick supper at a local diner. It was slightly easier eating while dressed as he was, but he still felt extremely self- conscious. Afterwards, she had him practice applying his makeup. "You have to take your makeup seriously. Even with the clothes and the wig, it's your makeup that's going to allow you to pass convincingly." Once he'd achieved results that she felt were almost satisfactory, she allowed him to spend the rest of the night playing his Nintendo. He went to bed early, exhausted after the stressful day, and not looking forward to the next; Diane had a shopping trip planned, and this time they wouldn't be picking up more male clothes. Mark woke the next morning groggily and took his shower. Noting that no clothes had been laid of for him, he reluctantly slipped on the last clean pink panties and bra he had with, along with a white skirt and pink T-shirt with the word "Princess" written in a girly style. He felt like throwing up. He then went to work applying his makeup, though his stepmother had to make some corrections when she saw his work, though she did commend his efforts. He ate his breakfast in silence, and then quickly downed his orange juice. Must be from concentrate, he thought to himself when he noticed a bit of coloration at the bottom of the glass, that would explain the aftertaste. Finally, the moment he'd been dreading had arrived. He got into the car with his stepmother and she drove them to the Gateway mall. He exited the car quietly, and he walked self-consciously into the mall. This was his first appearance dressed in front of a large number of people, and he was terrified that someone would realize that he was a boy. He was also nervous, given how last mall visit he'd made had resulted in disaster. The process was enough to drive Mark nuts, dashing between stores, picking out heaps and heaps of clothing. The only thing that made him feel better was that he had more choice in what he could buy, and he managed to get a few pairs of plain white panties instead of the pink as well as some jeans, though they still had a feminine cut to them. The next stop was a frightening one for the boy, as Diane had insisted on stopping at a lingerie store. She purchased a number of padded bras in a few different colors and styles, claiming quietly that the padding would be much more convincing that a pair of balled up socks, and Mark was forced to agree. She then had mercy on the boy and they took their leave of the store. They ate at a restaurant called the Famous Wok, and then hauled their bags of purchases back to the car. But before heading home, they stopped at a hair salon. Mark looked at his stepmother with an expression of loathing. "You said you needed a haircut, well, we're going to get that taken care of. I made an appointment yesterday, and they happened to have an opening." Frowning, he followed her inside, and they stepped up to a counter. "Hi, I'm Diane Collins. I called about an appointment for my daughter Allison earlier." The woman at the counter smiled. "Oh, you're Miss Denning's friend! You wanted hair extensions for her, right?" At that, Mark froze. "Yeah, that's right." She pointed at Mark. "Allison's such a tomboy! She demanded to get her hair cut so she'd fit in better with the boys at school, but immediately regretted it. Since we're new to the area, I thought it might help her get off on the right foot if she had some extensions put in before she started school." School? Was she nuts? A part of Mark wanted to bolt, but he knew that would just draw attention. He weakly followed the woman to a chair, where he was instructed to sit down. "I'm going to go get some groceries and do some more errands, I'll be back for you in a few hours, Allison! Love you!" spoke his stepmother in a pleasant voice that further cemented Mark's desire for revenge. Resisting the urge to flip her off, he settled into the chair. A woman joined him shortly and introduced herself. "Hello, Allison. I'm Denise and I'll be working on you today. I understand that you want some hair extensions put in place?" Mark nodded. "Could you please remove the wig for me?" He did so, and Denise let out a gasp. "Oh my. Why would you want to cut your hair like that?" she asked him. Remembering to try to keep his voice soft, he thought fast. "Well, all the boys I played with were teasing me for being a girl, so I thought maybe if I got a hairstyle like them, I might fit in better." "Did it work?" Denise asked him. "No," he said softly. Mark spent the next seven hours being poked and prodded. He eventually fell asleep from the boredom, and was awoken several hours later. "Alright, the extensions are in place! How does it look?" Mark glanced in the mirror. He now had shoulder length red hair, though it looked very drab, and he could see where it met his natural blonde. "Um, it looks kind of odd," he admitted. "That's because we need to style it first, silly! Anything you'd like to try out?" Mark didn't have a clue as to what he could do with it, so he just shrugged. "No, not really. Just do whatever, I guess," he mumbled. He tried to concentrate on other matters, praying that this would soon be over and he could go back to his life, but eventually, Denise was done. Mark glanced in the mirror. An attractive girl starred back at him, and he blinked his eyes in shock. His hair had been dyed a dark red, and he could no longer tell that he had extensions. It brushed against his shirt in the back and he had long bangs in the front that just reached above his eyes. He swept them to the side and noticed that even his eyebrows had been dyed. He was absolutely stunned, finding it hard to believe that the pretty redhead in the mirror was him. "Well?" asked Denise expectantly. "I look... nice," he said softly, not wanting to hurt the woman's feelings, though it was true, had it been someone else that he was looking at. Denise smiled. "I'm glad you like it!" she beamed. "Oh! I almost forgot!" She quickly grabbed a device and brought it up to his ear. He felt a sharp sting, and then before he could react, she pierced the other side. "All done!" She handed him two silver earrings. "Be sure to keep the studs in for the first couple weeks or it'll close shut again! Let's bring you out and show your mom!" She led Mark out front and he saw Diane reading a magazine in the lounge. Diane glanced over and smiled. "Oh, Allison! You look adorable! You're going to be fending off boys with a stick!" To put it lightly, he was not pleased. He began yelling before they'd even left the parking lot. He was furious! How could she possibly do this to him? And what was this about school? He couldn't possibly go to school dressed like this! And piercing his ears! "Young lady, you will NOT use that tone with me! Of course you are going to be going to school! You've had more than enough time off already! And of course you had to get the extensions! We couldn't risk your wig falling off in public, especially not while at school! Everything I'm doing, I'm doing to keep you safe! Do you think I really liked paying for all those clothes and the extensions? Do you know how much they cost me?" He started to argue back, but she cut him off by telling him what she'd spent that day. THAT quieted him. When they got home, he rushed into his room began crying into his pillow. His reaction surprised him, as he hadn't cried in years, but he'd been getting more emotional lately for some reason. Once he'd cried himself out, he looked over at the girl reflected in the vanity mirror. "What's happening to me?" he cried in dismay, but nobody answered. He missed his dad more than ever at that moment, but there was no way to get in contact with him, not without jeopardizing his location. Seeing his makeup smeared, he carefully removed it, and then cried some more. Eventually, he cried himself to sleep. The next day, he showered and got dressed, thankful to be able to wear jeans, even if they did have pink stitching on the sides and little pictures of flowers above the pockets. He also noticed that the padded bra did look better under his new plain white T-shirt, having a much better shape than a pair of socks. When he got downstairs, he saw that Patty had returned from her trip. She complimented his appearance, but he did his best to ignore her. She also brought some news. "I've managed to get you some fake identification. You now have a birth certificate, schooling records, and we're going to get you a passport this afternoon. From now on, your name is Allison Anne Collins. You were born on October 14th, 1993, so you just turned thirteen. The records also show you as legally adopted by one Diane Collins." That made him wince. He hated the new name, and the new birth date made him almost ten months younger than he was. He also didn't like having anything official saying that Diane had adopted him. A few years ago, when she'd been pregnant, they had been working on paperwork to have her adopt him, but things got put on hold when she'd gotten "ill" after losing the baby. And given what she'd recently been doing to him, he really didn't like the idea at that moment, but it was too late now. He also wondered how she'd done all that. It had to have been highly illegal, but he decided he didn't want to know. After he'd eaten, Patty took him to a building where he had his picture taken for his passport. She insisted that he refer to her as "Trisha," though he didn't know why. She wasn't as closely linked to him as his new "mother" was, and even she'd only changed her last name. Diane had been given new identification as well, changing her name, birth date, hair and eye color, and residence. With any luck, no one would be able to track them down through the new records. Afterwards, Mark received his passport, though he was surprised that it was done so fast. He winced at the smiling redhead in the picture and at the big "F" listed under sex. He was quiet on the ride home, sitting in the passenger's seat silently. He'd never been able to converse with "Trisha" very well, and he wasn't in the mood for talking. Suddenly, as they were rounding a corner, a car slammed into them from behind. Startled, Mark spun to look around and felt a sharp pain in his left leg. He felt the car spinning and then slumped into unconsciousness. Mark woke up in a hospital bed. Sitting in a chair nearby was his stepmother. He moaned weakly, "What happened?" Diane's head shot up. "You're awake!" She rushed over to him. "I was so worried!" Mark glanced around. He felt terrible. Then he realized that he couldn't feel anything below his waist. "What happened? I can't feel my legs!" Diane placed her hand on his shoulder. "Relax, honey. Your legs are fine, it's just an anesthetic. As soon as it wears off, you'll be wishing you still couldn't feel down there.." She gave a weak smile. "You were in quite the accident, we were afraid we might lose you!" He groaned. "What happened?" he asked again. Diane hesitated, and then spoke. "Well, a drunk driver rear-ended you while you were going around a corner. Pa... I mean, Trisha tried to compensate but the car wouldn't cooperate. She lost control and slammed into a brick wall." Mark winced. He could remember the accident, but he must have passed out before they'd crashed. That was odd, he thought, but then he had another thought. "Is she okay?" he asked of Patty. Just then, a man in a white coat walked in. "She's fine, just a few bruises. But you, on the other hand..." the man shook his head, and then forced a smile. "I'm Doctor Sharpe. How are you feeling?" Mark shook his head. "I've been better," he managed a weak smile. "How badly was I hurt?" Dr. Sharpe sat down on a stool facing the bed. "You suffered from a lot of blood loss. Because of this, we were worried for a while, but we pumped some new blood in and you stabilized." He hesitated before continuing. "Unfortunately, there was some severe damage to your groin. I know all about your situation, so don't worry; I'm a friend of Trisha's, so I won't jeopardize your secret. However, I'm afraid that your testicles were damaged beyond what we could fix." Mark bolted upright. "What are you saying?" "I'm sorry, son, but your testicles had to be removed." Mark sat in a stunned silence, and then began to cry. His stepmother repeating the words, "there, there, Allison" only made him feel worse, and angry. The doctor cleared his throat. "There's something else I've got to tell you." He waited until he had Mark's attention. "Because of the tape holding your penis out of the way, it didn't suffer any damage. However... since I've been made aware of your situation, your mother asked me if there was anything else that I could do. So, I performed a procedure where the penis is tucked away and cosmetically altered to give the outward appearance of a vagina." When Mark started to scream, he held up his hand. "It's fully reversible, so don't worry. It'll pass casual inspection, though it's nowhere near as deep as a real one and obviously won't function in intercourse. But you should be able to appear totally naked and still pass as a female, albeit a late bloomer." He forced a weak smile. "Just remember, it's not permanent and we can reverse it once you're able to go back to your regular life. We can also construct an artificial scrotum, and though you'll have to take male hormones for the rest of your life, you'll be able to live a perfectly normal existence. I'll leave you and your mother some time alone." Doctor Sharpe exited the room, and Diane continued trying to comfort Mark. He simply glared at her. "If you don't mind, I'd prefer to have some time alone." With that, he lay back down and turned his back on her. Satisfied when he heard her leaving the room, he drifted back into sleep. Mark spent the next five days in the hospital and refused to speak to either the doctor or his stepmother except when necessary. On the third day, Dr. Sharpe removed the catheter and a nurse led him into the bathroom. Apparently, everyone except Dr. Sharpe had simply been told that he'd suffered damage to his vagina, so he felt a little better knowing that they weren't secretly laughing at him behind his back. "Poetic justice," he muttered softly. "Cut the balls off the boy in the skirt, why don't you." The irony hadn't been lost on him; of all the odds of losing that particular body part in an accident, it had happened at the worse possible time. Once alone, he surveyed the damage. True to the Doctor's word, there was nothing between his legs but a small slit. He sat down on the seat and promptly made a mess all over the seat and his legs. That last humiliation set him crying again, until a nurse rushed in. "There, there, honey. It'll be okay! Give it a few days and you'll be healed up just like new!" She guided him out of the room and he collapsed on the hospital bed and cried himself to sleep. On the third and fourth days, he continued needing help walking and going to the bathroom. On the fifth day, he managed to urinate properly without making a mess, and he seized that small victory, as even minor victories seemed scarce now. He slowly began coming out of his depression, refusing to let the doctor and his stepmother win. Deep down, he realized that his stepmother hadn't meant to harm or humiliate him, and that she was just trying to protect him. Still, he resented how the situation had snowballed out of his control. A few weeks ago, he'd been a normal, happy boy. The, just a week ago, he dressed and looked like a girl, and now he even looked like one naked. He fought back tears and resolved to stay strong. He despised how he was prone to crying all of a sudden. He hadn't cried before when he'd been normal; why should dressing as a girl change that? "They might change how I look, and they might tell me to change how I act, but they will never change who I am inside!" he vowed. With those words echoing in his head, he exited the bathroom. He found Dr. Sharpe and his stepmother waiting for him. He forced a weak smile. "Doctor, when will I be able to leave?" Surprised at his sudden change in attitude, Dr. Sharpe smiled. "This afternoon if you're up to it, I just need to get you a few prescriptions." With that, the doctor exited the room, clipboard in hand. "I'm sorry I told him to perform that procedure, Allison," said his stepmother. "I was just thinking that since it was reversible and you already needed surgery down there that it was a good idea." Mark looked down. "Yeah. I'm sorry I got so upset. It was just such a huge shock. It was embarrassing, and it hurt me emotionally, but I guess I have to get over it. I understand why you did it." There was a sinister gleam in her eye as he spoke, a hostile gleam smirking in triumph, screaming, "I won, I won!" Unfortunately, Mark missed it completely, and it vanished once the Doctor rushed back in. He handed Diane a paper bag. "Here are some samples. We're going to put her on an anti-androgen and a mild estrogen and progestagen for now, so that her body doesn't go into shock from the testosterone withdrawal." He turned toward Mark. "This might mean that you'll notice some minor changes in your body as it adapts to the new hormone levels. Everything you'll notice will be completely reversible and will go away on its own once your body stabilizes. "I've also included an antibiotic, so you don't end up getting an infection. Be sure to take all of your medications until they're finished, or you could become very s