Angel's Tale: A MORFS Universe Story
By Joreymay
Part 13
As they all relaxed and talked, David raised a point that had been
bothering him. "Have you ever tried using your powers on yourself?"
"A little. I can change my skin tone, and somewhat change my features." She
demonstrated, taking on her Afam persona. After giving them a good look,
she changed back.
"Impressive," David acknowledged. "But what about something more
substantial?"
"Substantial?"
"A fundamental change, like giving yourself more power or something."
"I don't know. Never tried it. Remember, it's all pretty new to me." Angel
was intrigued. She agreed to give it a try, and see what happened. She went
inside herself, asking her subconscious resources to put together the
necessary patterns and make her aware of what she needed to know.
Then it all went wrong.
Angel suddenly felt sick. Worse than anything in her life. Physically and
mentally, she curled up into a little ball. She knew that she had gotten
some information, but she was too sucked up into the maelstrom within her
body to pay any attention.
To pay any attention to anything.
After an eternity or ten, a voice reached in and started calling her name.
She latched on to it like a lifesaver, and allowed it to bring her back up
out of herself. As she started to emerge, she recognized the mental voice
as Lena's.
When she started noticing her surroundings again, she saw that the others
were looking at her with worried expressions.
"Tha... that was interesting." She smiled weakly. The looks eased a little.
A drink found its way into her hand, and she barely noticed what it was as
she drank it. Her mind and body started to settle, and she found herself
better able to think and talk.
"There are some limits I didn't know about."
"Limits?" David asked.
"Yeah. I can change things like skin color and fat distribution in myself,
and even change the rate and color of my hair growth anywhere. I can heal
myself, prevent or cure infections, and control my fertility." Angel
stopped to draw a breath, then continued. "But I can't make my powers any
stronger. They will grow a little as I age, and maybe with some exercises,
but my range will never get beyond about two inches. I can't make myself
bigger or smaller, or younger or older." Silently, she added *And I can't
turn myself back into a boy.*
*I'm sorry. I know you miss it sometimes. But you really do make a good
girl.*
*I don't want to think about it now.*
The mental exchange was very quick, so the others barely noticed a pause.
When she started talking again, it was much like her earlier pauses. "I
can't cure MORFS, in myself or others. If I catch it early enough, I might
be able to keep an infection from triggering the changes, and I can create
a virus to rewrite someone's genes and then trigger the change. But even
that has limits. The first part of MORFS, the old terrorist weapon, is so
thoroughly integrated into our bodies and genes that trying to remove it
would kill the person. Or animal."
She looked around at the others. "In a way, it's a relief. They're not a
matter of power, but something more fundamental. Even a powerful bio
elemental, like that Wilson woman, would face the same limits. And the very
fact of such limits makes the world seem a little safer. I might be able to
seriously hurt or kill someone - heck, any one of us can do that. But I
would have to work both hard and smart to cause any sort of widespread
damage."
*Like AMORFS?* Lena asked, silently.
*That was working hard and smart. Just not consciously.*
They both let that drop.
While Angel recovered some more, they talked about the Pope Hill project.
They had a variety of ideas for the "payoff", but rejected most of them in
the end. They decided that it would be something they decided later, based
on new circumstances. Penny brought up a good point, however.
"It will provide a good cover for some of the MORFS changes that Angel
makes. I can see a significant danger otherwise, when the pattern of
changes slews too much. Angel - all of us - could be on the receiving end
of some very unpleasant attention without such a cover."
"Voice of Cassandra?" Angel asked.
"Voice of Cassandra," Penny confirmed.
That was good enough for them. They went into brainstorming the details. Of
the four of them, Cassie would have the smallest of the critical roles.
Once they had the necessary information about a candidate, she would let
herself notice whether there were signs of trouble either way.
When the hill was "open for business", Lena and David would watch for
approaching candidates. They would also check for hidden watchers, and Lena
would watch for thoughts of electronic recording or transmission devices.
Angel would get a preliminary pattern on the candidate, preparing for the
creation of the change agent. Lena would read hir intended request, and
relay it to Angel. Angel would take that information and see whether she
could create the change.
Lena would also expedite a quick discussion of the worthiness and risks of
the candidate and hir goals. They wanted to screen out malice, world
domination fantasies, and the like. With David, they set the precedent for
allowing motives that were socially unacceptable but generally harmless.
They also wanted to screen out the really unstable types.
Lena and David would set the stage when the candidate approached the hill.
Lena would read the final form of the desire, then send the image to David
and the details to Angel. If Angel could accomplish it, and everything else
checked out all right, David would create a small visual effect to cue the
person that the change was a done deal.
Angel, looking different either because of her self induced changes or
because she was cloaked by an illusion compliments of David, would make
contact and transfer the "packet".
They would do things a little differently each time, to disrupt anyone
trying to figure their pattern.
If the request was unacceptable or undoable, David and Lena would create an
experience that made it clear that the request would not be granted. If the
request was particularly malicious or the like, they might impose a
punitive change.
Penny brought up the issue of when to make the Hill available. They didn't
want to have the plan running every hour of every day and night, and they
wanted to be able to schedule around it. They decided on at least twice a
month, and no more than once a week, the pattern to be determined later.
David came up with a justification for randomizing the date somewhat. They
could let it be known that the Source needed time to recharge, which varied
depending on the strains the requests caused. But nobody would be sure what
sorts of things caused more or less stress.
Angel suggested one or two more trial runs, and nominated Robin. She
pointed out that they needed someone they could trust, someone who they
could confide in later and could get feedback from. Robin fit those
criteria, and was the only one of their inner circle who had not changed
yet.
Penny nominated another candidate. Although the rest of them didn't know
her, Penny knew and trusted her. Pat was about to be a sophomore at Penny's
school, and was very much a boy inside. She couldn't afford the very
expensive reassignment surgeries, and her parents were divided over the
issue. And even if she could afford the surgeries, it would be years before
she qualified.
Angel could certainly sympathize with a physical girl who was a boy inside.
Her own inner boy was starting to slip away, but the torments of that
dichotomy were still fresh in her mind. She suggested that Robin go first,
and that they use the feedback from her to refine their approach for Pat.
The others agreed, with the caveat that s/he had to go through the full
screenings.
That left only the timing for the tests, and how to approach them. Angel
suggested they approach Robin almost immediately, so she could go through
the change over the holiday weekend.
David could let slip to Robin the part the Hill supposedly played in his
own transformation. If necessary, Lena could amplify Robin's curiosity and
desire. They wouldn't tell her about that part.
While they were talking about what they would tell, and to whom, they
decided they would not tell their parents about the plot. But they could
talk about the Pope Hill rumor all they wanted. Angel and David had already
done so, and Cassie and Lena could easily work it into conversations.
In fact, Lena was sure she could arrange for various adults to "remember"
the rumors as being from more than a decade before. And seemingly old and
well known then.
When Angel got home, there was a message from her mother. She had some
plans for them, so Angel didn't need to start dinner. But she did need to
be at home and available when her mother got there.
Since she had gotten home a little later than she had planned on, it was a
relief that she hadn't delayed dinner. That relief was tempered by
speculations about her mother's mysterious plans.
Whatever the plans, she suspected she was underdressed. And after tramping
around the State park, she decided a quick rinse off was a good idea.
As she rinsed off, she reflected on some of the trivia of her new life.
Like shower caps. When she was a boy, he never saw the point of the things.
Even when he styled longish hair, he didn't mind if a little got wet at the
ends when he showered. Now she understood.
Since her mother hadn't said anything about appearance, she put on one of
her plainer - and less daring - skirts and a polo shirt. She briefly
debated about shoes, and bypassed her sneakers for a comfortable pair of
flats.
By the time her mother got home, Angel was relaxing in front of the tube.
Her mother took a quick look at her, and nodded her head. Soon, they were
on their way.
"First, a little bit of shopping," her mother said. They headed for the
mall, and went right to the swap shop. Her mother quietly checked her
balance, then they were off looking at clothes. Within minutes, Angel's
mother had handed her two blouses and two skirts to try on. They were nicer
than what she had on, but not too nice for school or somewhere special.
They didn't like the fit of one of the skirts, but the blouses were both
fine. Angel got even more suspicious when her mother removed the price tags
from the skirt and blouse she was wearing, grabbed her clothes and the
other blouse, and all but dragged her to the register. Once Angel was in
the process of thumbing for her clothes, her mother went to put the other
skirt back.
Angel had seen her mother surreptitiously check her watch a couple of
times. That, coupled with the unusually short shopping trip made Angel
certain something was up. Angel carried the bag with her old clothes and
her other new blouse as they power walked to the car.
Her mother drove for some time, finally arriving at a very fancy looking
building. It seemed to exude an air of wealth and privilege. A valet took
their car, and they briskly walked inside.
"All right, Mother. Where are we, and why?"
"I thought you might like to see the place you are considering working."
Her mother had a twinkle in her eye. "And your prospective boss has offered
us some complimentary services while you do so."
Her own mother. Taking advantage of her situation as shamelessly as Lena
had. Or as Angel had done to Lena. Ah, well.
While the potential services didn't excite her the way they did her mother,
Angel was interested to see the place.
As they approached the front desk, the receptionist rose and smiled at
them. "Mrs. O'Connor. Miss O'Connor. Welcome." She gestured to one of the
neatly dressed and groomed young ladies standing nearby. "Cindy will take
care of you. If you have any questions, or need anything, be sure to let
her know."
Cindy introduced herself, and told Angel that she hoped to have her working
there soon. She seemed genuinely excited at the prospect.
At her mother's urging, Angel accepted a hair and nails styling, which her
mother would also have. Then, while her mother enjoyed some of the other
services on offer, Angel would tour the facility.
It was like something out of a movie. While everything was elegant - and
spotlessly clean - different areas had different subtle themes. Angel
walked by an area with hints of southwestern decor, another she interpreted
as East Coast Old Money, and even an unmistakable, if subtle, California
theme. Nothing garish or overt, just combinations of subdued colors and
hints of architectural elements.
They were lead to a room with two fully equipped hair and nail stations,
and left in the care of the operators, Gina and Leslie. The two young women
were, of course, immaculately groomed and looked every inch the
professionals. They invited Angel's mother to change into a robe in a small
changing room, and settled Angel into one of the chairs.
Angel was surprised at what Gina asked. Instead of asking what look she
wanted or the like, she just asked how important things like ease of care,
flexibility, and formality were to her. Curious, Angel asked what she knew
about her.
"I know you start tomorrow as a junior at Cherry Creek, and it is your
first year there. You might be joining our happy little family here, as
some kind of a specialist. You also work at a management level for one of
the theater chains. You have some sort of morf derived power or powers that
make you very useful. And that you're sixteen, and still finding yourself."
"As a more direct observation, you're an attractive, pleasant, and well
behaved young woman who is not used to the trappings of wealth and
privilege. You have nice coloring, and probably shampoo your hair a little
too often. What else can I tell you?"
"How do you know all that?"
With a wink, she picked up a tablet and showed Angel the display. It had a
picture of Angel, and a few paragraphs of information. She touched an icon,
and saw an image of the corridor outside.
"We get such a briefing for each of our guests, and watch them on their way
in for clues about what they want and what mood they're in. It saves time,
and adds to the experience for them. Normally, we let it seem like magic.
But you'll be doing the same thing yourself, soon. Trust me, you will like
it here."
Angel gave a half smile at the assumptions, but let them pass. "So, what
now?" she asked, as her mother settled into the other chair and started
talking with Leslie.
Gina looked a Angel a moment, then replied "We will wash, treat, and
condition your hair, to begin with. Then give you a low maintenance style
which both compliments your appearance and allows you to fit in at school,
on your other job, and here with minimal effort."
"All that from a haircut?" Angel grinned.
Gina smiled back. "All part of the magic. Wait till you try some of the
other services here."
Gina fastened a protective cover over Angel's body, then tilted the chair
back and rotated it a little. Angel noticed a quiet whirring sound as she
was being moved, and found herself leaning the back of her head over a
large, ornate sink.
As Gina was washing Angel's hair, two other girls came in and set up next
to the chairs. Angel was startled to find her fingertips soaking in some
sort of soothing liquid. Glancing at their mother without turning her head,
she saw that her hand was similarly immersed in a bowl of liquid.
She felt her shoes and socks being removed, and her feet were lowered into
a pleasantly warm soak.
While the hairstyling and manicure were broadly similar to the experience
the one time she had gone to a salon, there was something a little more...
she didn't know what, just more, about it this time.
Time drifted by, and she found herself styled, shod, and standing. Gina
gave her some suggestions about washing her hair less often, and some
products to help keep it clean and fresh without washing.
Cindy appeared, as though by magic. She took Angel on the promised tour of
the facilities. There were a mind boggling array of services and facilities
available, for women and men. Angel had to ask what some of them were for,
and Cindy cheerfully explained each. In a few cases, she candidly said that
the benefits of something were dubious at best, but that it was something
some of the guests expected. And the place was all about service.
After showing Angel the women's facilities, and most of the men's, She took
her up to the residential and social areas. As a full service spa, they had
provisions for some of their clients to spend the night - or several nights
- there. They also had meeting and recreation rooms for those residential
clients.
Cindy took Angel back down to the employee area. While not as distinctively
decorated as the customer areas, it was just as clean and unexpectedly
large. In addition to smaller versions of most of the guest facilities,
there were class rooms, locker rooms, and a service bar and cafeteria.
Cindy explained that the service bar prepared drinks for the guests, as
well as herbal tonics and the like. Employees and contractors were
emphatically not allowed to drink alcohol or other intoxicants on site,
even when off shift. However, they could get soft drinks, smoothies, and
non alcoholic herbals there.
Their versions of the facilities served double duty. They were used for
training and certifying employees, and also used by the off duty (or on
break) staff for their (real or imagined) benefits.
While they were walking around back there, Angel noticed several obvious
morfs. Still... "What are the policies regarding morfs?"
"It gets a little complicated. There's no discrimination in terms of
general hiring and promotion. Those of you with special abilities might get
preferential hiring for specialized functions, but otherwise it's a wash.
But we are sensitive to guest attitudes. Those who have an aversion will
not get obviously changed operators, unless their ability is necessary for
the service. Those who prefer morfs, get them if at all possible."
"Some people prefer morfs?"
"It's kind of an odd mix. A lot of the people who are morfs themselves like
the idea of using other morfs. Some of the more bigoted non morfs actually
like the idea of seeing morfs in what they think of as 'inferior'
functions. And some people just have a fascination, or even a fetish, for
morfs. We don't allow improprieties, but the fantasies are a part of the
experience for some guests."
"Eew."
"Yeah. Some of the guests can be pretty creepy or abusive. Another of the
things we have here for the employees is counseling and support services.
Entire teams have been known to show up after some of our more... difficult
guests. Remember that. You are never really alone here, and we all support
each other."
"That part of the sales pitch?" Angel grinned.
"Actually, part of the new employee orientation. A lot of people start out
with the attitude that using those services makes them look weak or
unworthy. It doesn't last."
"How do you keep the morf guests separate from the bigots?"
"The only place there's any real chance of that is in the lobbies. We have
people who do nothing but quietly direct traffic to keep guests from
encountering each other. Even the group areas are choreographed. Each guest
gets a feeling of having the whole place for hir own. But not abandoned.
There is someone obviously nearby at all times."
"We have a whole system of what we call secret passages, so we can go from
room to room without the guests seeing us. All part of the illusion."
"So that's how you magically appeared. I was wondering," Angel smiled.
Cindy took Angel back to the service bar and offered her a smoothie. She
got one for herself as well, and they sat and talked some more. Cindy
turned out to be a shift lead, and had been chosen as Angel's escort for
the purpose of answering her questions. The only things she wouldn't
discuss involved money. Most of the operators and specialists worked for a
commission on their services and any tips they got. The regular and
administrative employees got salaries, but she wouldn't discuss numbers.
She also wouldn't discuss the prices guests paid for the services.
She noticed something on her pad, and got up. She guided Angel through some
smaller corridors, and suddenly they were in the room they started from,
watching her mother get up from the chair. They escorted her to a room with
two small pools. One of the pools steamed and smelled vaguely of sulfur.
The other... didn't.
"We get the water from a famous mineral spring in the mountains," Cindy
told them, as Angel's mother discarded the bathrobe and slid into the
steaming water. "State of the art systems keep the water clean and hot.
Because of the heat, we have to limit the time you spend in the water at a
time, and how much time overall."
As her mother luxuriated in the water, Angel followed Cindy to what
appeared to be a small cupboard. Inside were Angel's half finished
smoothie, and a murky green beverage. Cindy gave the latter to the soaking
woman, explaining that it was a special herbal preparation. Angel's mother
took a tentative sip, then a larger drink. Whatever it was, it apparently
tasted good.
After what seemed like a few minutes, Cindy urged Angel's mother into the
cool pool. As she cooled off in the clear water, Cindy asked whether she
had any questions or reservations.
"What about Angel's age? Will that be an issue?"
"It shouldn't be for any of the staff. We have two operators here who look
even younger, but are actually in their late twenties. We also have a
number of other high school students here part time. If anyone here so much
as thinks twice about her age, I'll be surprised." She thought a moment,
then continued.
"It is possible that it will be an issue for some of the guests. If so, we
will deal with the issue then." Her expression made it clear that she
didn't consider it a problem.
As she eased back into the hot pool, she wistfully asked "Will I get to
come back?"
Cindy laughed pleasantly and assured her that arrangements could be made.
When she was finished with her soak, Cindy directed her to a small side
room with a shower. She opened a closet and showed her that her clothes
were there, cleaned and ready for her. Her purse was there as well. "All
part of the service," Cindy assured her, with a wink at Angel.
On the way home from the spa, they picked up some take out chinese. When
they arrived, Angel adopted an air of conscious virtue and went up to take
care of her clothes before eating. Her parents were clearly unimpressed,
but they did offer her indulgent smiles when she came back down.
After eating, Angel spent some time making sure she had everything ready
for school. Including her outfit, down to the underwear. She checked her
theater email, and read the routine messages there. Then, she wished her
parents good night and got ready for bed.
Angel didn't recognize the classroom she was in. All but one of the desks
was filled, so she sat there. She looked up, and the Board said Final Exam.
She wasn't prepared. The teacher was somehow both Mrs. Wilson and Mrs.
Tabor. She turned and addressed the class.
"I assume everyone has the required materials. Get out your composition
book, Pencil, pen, and references. Do not open the question packets until I
tell you to. Mister O'Connor, why don't you have your materials ready? And
WHY ARE YOU NAKED?"
He was. His body, completely male again, was completely exposed. He was
paralyzed, unable to cover himself. Or to flee.
"Well, Miss O'Connor, What do you have to say for yourself?"
Her breasts were back, and she couldn't tell for certain without moving her
head to look, but she was pretty sure she was female down below as well.
Either way, she was still stark naked. In front of everyone.
Someone threw a net over her, and she was tangled in it. She could move a
little, and she struggled to get free. No matter what she did, she couldn't
get free. As her struggles increased, the Voice of God intoned "Wake up!"
And she did. Her body was tangled in her covers. Her pillow was on the
floor. And she was only physically alone.
*Damn. When you dream, you don't go half way.* The Voice of God was Lena,
sounding a little groggy and annoyed. *I don't know about you, but I need
my beauty sleep if I'm gonna knock 'em dead in school.*
*Sorry. I don't know what that was.*
*It's called a nightmare. And that one was a doozey. Bad enough that I had
to share it, but I had to be you in the process! Ugh!*
*Yes, I know it was a nightmare. I just don't know what it means.*
*Just go back to sleep, and make sure you put some clothes on before you go
to school.*
The rest of her night seemed dreamless. Or, at least, she didn't remember
any more dreams.
In the morning, she showered with the water cooler than usual, to help wake
her up. At least she had her clothes picked out. Per Lena's earlier advice,
she was going with her longer denim skirt (the shorter one wouldn't pass
the dress code) and a pale blue blouse. She dressed and carefully but
quickly did her hair and minimal makeup.
As she was finishing, she recognized the smells of bacon and toast. Knowing
her parents, it would be the typical First Day breakfast. Far too much
food, with far too much fat and carbohydrates, and wonderful all around.
The breakfast was all about encouragement and preparation. She would do
well, she would like her new school, which was a great school, she was
ready... all the usual.
Her mother gave Lena and her a ride to the school. After a quick goodbye
and a deep breath, she plunged into her first real day at her new school.
For the first couple of classes, everything went well. She had no trouble
finding her locker or the classrooms, right where they had been before. She
noticed that whenever she saw David, someone was calling him "Captain",
"Cap'n", or "CP". Apparently, word spreads as quickly at this school as it
had at her old school. Other friends were met with "Radar", "Otter", and so
on.
First period was Spanish 2. It was immediately apparent that they handled
language classes somewhat differently than at her old school. In this case,
she thought the difference might work in her favor. Despite her heritage,
and her pride in that heritage, she had unexpected difficulty with that
language class. She also thought that the teacher suspected her former self
of slacking off, and expected him to already have a significant background.
This class would be hard work, but she was confident she could handle it.
Second period was an eye opener. Morfs Awareness, a State required class,
was mostly full of freshmen. The other older students seemed, like her, to
have come >from out of state. The teacher, a tall, muscular man covered
with rust colored fur similar to that of Angel's cousin, got everyone's
attention with his first statement.
"Everyone in this room has MORFS. Everyone in this school has MORFS. To all
intents and purposes, everyone in the world has MORFS."
After the reaction died down somewhat, he briefly sketched the two part
nature of the condition, and the history of the first part - the terrorist
bioweapon. By the end of class, she realized that she had been operating on
some faulty assumptions. She had a slightly better idea what she had been
doing, and figured that she would have a much better idea by the time she
finished the semester.
Third period started out with a notice on the door that the class had been
moved. To the other end of that building. The good news and the bad news
were the same: it was just a couple of doors down from the class she had
just come from.
After class, she witnessed a confrontation. She was headed toward the
girls' room, when she saw a crowd around the door. A knot of Pures were
confronting a young looking, vaguely ursine girl. They were telling her
that the restroom was a "No Freak Zone", and suggesting that she go outside
like the animal she was.
She was about to try and intervene when Lena stopped her. As she watched,
the Pures were suddenly surrounded by a somewhat larger group of distinctly
larger morfs.
"You got it backwards, 'pillar," a tall, furred and muscled girl said. She
moved in, forcing a gap in front of the door. Another of the new arrivals
ushered the frightened freshman into the restroom, while the tall one
continued.
"It's 'pillars that belong in the bushes, until they can get their silk
together and change. Maybe we should show you the way. Wouldn't want you
getting lost."
"You wouldn't dare!"
"Yeah? Why? Now that ole' Reverend Dick is one of us, how much power do
'pillars like you think you have any more?"
*Pillars?* Angel asked Lena.
*Short for caterpillars. They are calling them children, and implying that
they were nothing more than morfs who haven't changed yet. Technically
correct, but very rude.*
*Don't they get in trouble for the name calling?*
*When the school tries to act, they just point out that the Pures call
themselves pillars of the community, and then claim that they were just
throwing their own claim back. The school can't prove otherwise.*
Angel watched the Pures back down and slink away. *Don't the others get in
trouble for calling morfs freaks?*
*Politics. While the Reverend was active, he could throw a ton of pressure
and legal talent at the school if they tried to raise a fuss. Now,
though... I don't know.*
As they headed toward their next class, Angel asked *Who were those morfs?*
*Morf supremacists. As bad as the Pures, but in the opposite direction. And
a lot stronger, in terms of direct power. With a few key players on the
Pures side out of the equation, it would seem that the MS's have the upper
hand. For now.*
They settled in for their English class. Angel didn't think it was
possible, but the teacher managed to bore her almost to sleep on the first
day of class.
*It's a trick. Some students will drop their guard, and slack off on the
homework. I can guarantee that class will be a lot more interesting in a
couple of days, when she lowers the boom.*
The next period, they had lunch. They were joined by Robin and (much to
Lena's delight) David. After getting what passed for food, they found an
empty table near the middle of the room.
Angel noticed a familiar pattern. One corner was taken by the Pures. The
opposite corner included some of the morfs from the bathroom incident, and
a number of other obvious morfs. There were a few other theme tables, but
she noticed that they weren't as exclusive as they had been at her school.
What appeared to be the jocks table had a few apparent non-jocks, and she
didn't see anyone turned away. Definitely different. Outside of the two
polar groups, it seemed to be a matter of chosen association rather than
cliquish territoriality.
Lena confirmed Angel's observation. There were a few such cliques, but they
either had the other lunch period or ate off campus.
David commented that the militants had already tried to recruit him more
than once. Unsuccessfully. He had no more use for them than he did for the
Pures. Since they were still trying to get Lena, who had morf'd before most
of them, to join, David doubted they would drop it any time soon.
Angel sniffed theatrically. "Why don't they want me?" she was unable to
keep the edges of a smile out of her attempted pout.
"You don't look the part. They see my wings, or Lena's eyes, and start
drooling. Plus, our powers are better known than yours. Even your high
publicity stuff was anonymous."
As though to prove him wrong, a large, furry boy came over to their table
and spoke to Angel.
"Are you Angel?" he asked. It seemed a simple question, with no obvious
emotional overtones.
She looked briefly at Lena, who nodded. "That's me. And you are...?"
"Frank. Frank Donnelly. I hear you were the one who got rid of that SOB
theater manager a couple of weeks ago."
"Where did you hear about that?"
"My sister works there. She wasn't there when it happened, but she saw you
there later. Then she pointed you out. Thank you. You made her life a whole
lot better."
"You're welcome. But I really didn't do all that much."
"That's not the way she tells it." He grinned. "You're welcome at the MLF
table any time. These two," he indicated Lena and David, "already have
their standing invites. Nice talking to you." He walked back over to his
friends.
"That was... interesting," Angel said. "I noticed that he left someone out,
though."
Robin nodded. "Probably deliberate, but not intentionally rude. Unlike some
of the others, he's really not that much of a jerk."
Angel quirked a small smile. "Have you given more thought to coming over to
the dark side?"
*Keep her talking. She's ready,* Lena advised.
"Yeah, for all the good it does me. No use wishing for something I can't
get. With my luck, I'd get green hair and spend the rest of my life looking
like a ten year old boy."
David got a sparkle in his eye. "If you could find a wishing well - one
that really worked - what would you wish for?"
"Yeah, right. Still, it's fun to dream. I'd want to look human, so people
couldn't tell. No offense."
"None taken. Go on. No limits at all. What would it be? Flying? A really
cool zap? Mind powers, like my love?"
"Please, not while I'm eating!" Robin mimed gagging. "Anything? No offense,
but I don't want to go through what you did when you woke up."
"I don't blame you." He shuddered at the memory. "But after a few days of
hell, I got some really cool stuff."
"I'm not sure I could take it. Let's see... I'd like to be able to become
invisible and/or intangible. And control it. So I could be visible and
intangible, like one of your illusions. Or I could be invisible, but have
my hands and feet solid. Like the Twonkeyville Ghost."
They all groaned at the reference to the briefly popular children's show.
"As long as I'm dreaming, I'd like to be able to teleport, through space
and time. And to move other things and people the same way. That could be
pretty useful."
"The joke potential alone would be world class." David grinned. He looked
at the others, especially at Angel.
Angel had let the special parts of her mind process the conversation. The
unwanted outcome would be trivially easy, but she ruthlessly cut it off.
The other was more difficult, especially with the parameters she added. But
she could do it. She nodded at David.
"We should tell her," he said to the others.
Angel looked at Lena. "Is anyone else listening?" Lena shook her head.
"Then I guess it's ok."
Robin looked from one to another of them, suspiciously. "Tell me what?"
"Didn't you ever wonder how I got exactly the mix of powers I wanted?"
David asked her.
"I didn't know you wanted that mix in the first place."
"Well, I did. And I got it. It isn't a wishing well, but it's a place." He
looked around again, then dropped his voice. "Pope Hill."
"What? I don't believe it. I've been there plenty of times."
"It only works sometimes. I heard rumors going back to our parents' time
and earlier. Lena and Angel felt something, and talked me into trying the
rumor. And it worked."
Angel took up the narrative. "It seems to take some time to recharge or
something, in between the days it works. Different times, it takes
different amounts of time."
"I think it's also tied into something, like phases of the moon...
something like that," Lena added. "Angel and I both notice something there,
but it's something different for each of us."
"And by this afternoon," Angel continued, "it feels like it will be ready
again."
Still not quite buying it, Robin asked, "What would I have to do? Some
embarrassing ritual or something?"
"I just walked up to the place they showed me, felt something wonderful,
and thought hard about what I wanted. I felt something shift, and this
little glowy thing appeared. It looked kinda like I look now, but small. It
hung there for a moment, then came and merged into me." He looked directly
at her. "And that was it. Later that day, Angel saw I was getting ready to
go through MORFS. She told my folks, and the rest you know."
"How would I know it's going to work?"
"Well," Lena said, "if you don't feel anything special there, it's probably
not ready. If you do, go for it."
"This afternoon?"
"An hour or so after school, it feels like. Unless someone else tries it
before you."
"And this isn't one of the Captain's set ups?"
"I would do a lot of things for a laugh," David replied, "But this, I don't
joke about."
"I suppose I could try it. It beats taking pot luck for when and what. What
do I do?"
"We'll all go to the hill after school, and talk on the way."
Angel's final class of the day was a disappointment, in a way. The Athletic
Challenge class did not dress out. The time was taken up with locker
assignments, paper work, and a general orientation to the class, the
equipment, and the procedures. All that build up and anticipation, and
nobody so much as changed her blouse. The closest she got was two girls
changing their shoes.
After school, the four of them met at the agreed on spot, and walked toward
the park.
Angel told Robin, "It's probably a good idea to go over what you want in
your mind, so you have it clear by the time you get there."
Robin nodded, and they walked in companionable silence. Lena monitored
Robin's thoughts, without intruding. When she briefly considered additional
powers or aspects, Lena relayed the information to Angel.
In the end, Robin came full circle to her earlier description. Angel was
relieved, because she was fairly sure the change could be timed to start
Friday afternoon, and finish by the end of the long weekend. Robin should
miss little, if any, school.
When Robin started feeling something unfamiliar, Lena and Angel stopped,
looking toward the hill. David urged her forward, smiling encouragingly. As
she moved closer to the hill, the feelings grew stronger. It was similar to
the sense of awe she had felt on a family trip to Europe, when they visited
an ornate cathedral. There was also what she could only call a sense of
being welcomed.
As she reached the marker, she stopped and waited. She went over what she
wanted from the change. After all the rehearsal, that was easy. She sensed
some sort of approval, and had a feeling of something important happening.
As the feeling grew, a small, translucent figure rose from the ground in
front of her.
After it reached about chest height, it pulsed a little then formed a six
inch, idealized image of her. The figure smiled, spread her arms, and
floated toward Robin. As it reached her and started to sink into her, she
had an impulse to hug it. Her arms came up and in, then met her chest.
Suddenly, it was all gone. The feelings, her miniature self, everything.
She was left with a sense of something important having happened. After
standing there for a moment longer, she turned and walked back to her
friends.
"Well?" Angel asked, grinning.
"It was... interesting. It felt like something happened."
"Let's see." Angel grabbed her arm and turned her, so that neither of them
was looking into the sun. The suddenness of the contact startled her, but
she wasn't alarmed.
After a moment, Angel rendered her verdict. "Yep. You've got it."
"When? What? How?"
"I would guess you'll start showing symptoms sometime Friday afternoon.
It's too early to tell what you will end up with. I don't know how. I've
heard everything >from a religious miracle to morfed prairie dogs."
"I'm scared."
"Of course you are," David soothed. "It's a big step, and you're just along
for the ride. You tend to prefer to have some control over things. I won't
tell you to relax and enjoy it - they have drugs for that these days."
Robin couldn't help it, she smiled.
"You have good people looking out for you. Us. Your parents. Your parents'
money. Good people," David deadpanned.
She couldn't keep from laughing.
"Hey Captain... When do I get a sky ride?" She giggled, trying to change
the subject.
David looked at Lena for a beat, then turned, grabbed Robin up in his arms,
and took to the sky. She shrieked, half in laughter, half in startlement.
Angel and Lena laughed themselves silly, watching him give her an aerial
roller coaster ride. They were just landing when Angel's eCom rang.
It was Mrs. Tabor. She kept the conversation simple, asking Angel to come
to the spa that evening. She had something to discuss privately.
She suggested that Angel have her father take her, and then he could enjoy
the men's services while they talked. Angel agreed, and told her friends
she needed to get home.
Angel called her parents, and found out that they would be home on time.
Angel used the time until then to snack and get most of her homework out of
the way. She sighed, knowing that it was probably the smallest load of
homework she would have for months to come.
Her mother got home first. Angel gave her the paperwork that needed to be
signed, like the "If my kid gets hurt, I won't sue the school" disclaimer
for Athletic Challenge. They signed in all the right places, then she put
them away. By the time they were done, her father was home.
Angel decided that a quick shower and change would be a good idea, before
they went.
When she arrived at the spa, freshly showered and neatly dressed, A male
attendant appeared and escorted her father to the men's area. As soon as he
was out of sight, Mrs. Tabor appeared by way of one of the hidden doors.
"Thank you for coming, my dear. If you would come with me...?"
"Sure."
Mrs. Tabor lead Angel to her well appointed office, and offered her a
comfortable chair. Unsure of the nature and formality of the occasion,
Angel perched on the edge and sat up with her best posture.
"I appreciate the gesture," Mrs. Tabor smiled gently, "But you might as
well get comfortable. This discussion may get uncomfortable enough as it
is." She waited, as Angel settled back into the chair.
"Before we begin, can I offer you something to drink?"
"I'm good, thank you." It was not really a pro forma response. She just
wasn't thirsty.
The matron nodded, at the spoken and unspoken reactions, drew a deep
breath, and began.
"I called you here to ask a very large favor of you. You are free to
decline, and I will not think any the less of you. To be frank, I'm not
even sure that what I will ask is possible. I need your honest reaction."
"Right now, it's nervous and curious. What is the favor?"
"There are a few parts to it, and I will need to give you some background
first." Angel had never seen the woman so ill at ease. Had never imagined
seeing her that way.
"One part of the favor is fairly simple. For reasons I will explain in a
moment, I would need you to delay the start of your employment here for a
week or longer. You will not lose money because of it, but the payment will
be described differently. Are you with me so far?"
After Angel's uncertain nod, she continued. "Despite that, I have a request
that I would ask you to undertake tonight or tomorrow." She looked at Angel
again, briefly, then seemed to switch gears.
"How do you feel about handling the genitals of other girls and women?"
Angel knew her thoughts would be read, so she opted for honesty. "Mostly
curious. I don't have anything against it."
Mrs. Tabor seemed to think for a moment, then nodded.
"As you may be aware, there are still people in this world who feel that
wedding day virginity is very important. And among such cultures, it is
especially important for dynastic weddings. In some places, it is enough
that she hasn?t had children or STDs, but some take the older, less
reliable approach."
"Her cherry." Angel blurted, then froze when she realized what she said.
"Indeed," the older woman nodded, with a slight smile. "And in cases like
royalty and certain prominent families, they take it very seriously,
indeed. And in these days of bio elementals and nanosurgery, they even go
so far as to create and preserve records of the form of the hymen."
"That's so..."
"Yes, it is stupid and barbaric. But it is their way, and we need to
respect it. Up to a point."
Angel pulled a face, thinking that she still didn't like the whole idea.
"I'm afraid that you will be faced with a number of things you don't like
while working here. That is why we offer the counseling services Cindy
described. However, just now we find ourselves faced with something we do
not need to respect or accept. Sabotage."
Angel perked up.
"A young lady, a long time client and friend, is due to be married this
week. There are those who oppose the marriage for political reasons, and
some of them have acted. A doctor, who was paid off by some of the
opposition, destroyed her hymen under the pretext of medical treatment of
an infection. Even more barbaric, the infection was apparently induced
deliberately, by way of contaminated sanitary supplies."
Angel shuddered, remembering what she had seen at one of the theaters.
"He has notified his co conspirators, and they are insisting on a thorough
examination."
"Isn't there a record of what he did?"
"Yes, but it doesn't matter. As appalling as we might find the idea, such a
medical procedure does not excuse the condition. Nor would the kinds of
childhood accidents which are altogether too common."
"So you want me to regrow her che... hymen."
"Yes and no. And this is where it gets delicate, and perhaps impossible.
These people are not isolated from the world. They are fully aware of
elemental regeneration and nanosurgery. But they also know that such
procedures create records and leave traces. In particular, bio elementals
leave a sort of energy signature when they impose changes on bodies. The
more energy they use, the stronger the signature. And the longer it lasts."
That matched some of the things Angel had read. "Ouch. So, what can we do?"
"We will get to that. Another aspect of the records is also a problem.
There is clearly a record of her visits here, and there will be a record of
your association with us when you begin that association."
"That's why you want me to wait. No records I was here yet."
"It may even work to our advantage in another way. Once they raise the
issue - and they will - I will be able to claim that their doing so
convinced me to recruit you. While they may be able to show that I
considered such an association before now, there is no available evidence
that I have acted on it."
"So, what can I do?"
"I was reminded of the help you gave that little patient of Thomas'. In
particular, the way you were working hard to keep from drawing on her
energies any more than necessary. Are you able to do the opposite?"
"Draw more heavily on their energy than mine? Yes. I tried it out recently.
So, you think that by using her own energies to regrow her hymen, I
wouldn't leave such a signature?"
"Or if you do, it would be faint and quickly fade." Mrs. Tabor looked
thoughtful. "At least, that is what we hope. It may well be her only
chance."
"What's to keep them from saying they see a trace when there isn't one?"
"There will be two elementals examining her, and neither has any stake in
the outcome. The elementals will be monitored by similarly impartial
telepaths." She allowed a slight, grim smile. "As I said, they take it very
seriously."
They were both silent, thinking. Then Angel remembered something more from
what she read. It might work.
"What is your idea?" While she could read Angel's mind, too many of her
thoughts were references to things the older woman was unfamiliar with.
"First, I need to know a couple of things. When does this have to be done?"
"She is here tonight, along with her entourage. She will leave tomorrow
afternoon."
"I wish I had more time."
"I'm afraid that is the one thing I can't provide. But anything, and
anyone, here is at your disposal."
Knowing Mrs. Tabor would read it anyway, she plunged ahead. "Do you have
anyone you can really trust, with a busted cherry, a bit of a taste for
other girls, and a streak of exhibitionism?"
Mrs. Tabor raised her eyebrows, then allowed a smile to show. "I believe I
know just the girl." She typed something on her keyboard, then returned her
attention to Angel. "Would you elaborate?"
"I think I know a way to do this, but I'm not comfortable trying without
some practice. I need three things for this to work: readily available
materials, a strong flow of energy at or near the site, and another flow of
energy to obliterate any traces I leave behind. If I understand it
correctly, some research I read points to something that could provide all
three. Masturbation."
She hurried on. "The arousal will bring a plentiful supply of blood and
nutrients to the area, swelling her lips, clit, and hole." she winced at
her own choice of words, but saw no reaction other than interest. She
continued.
"I can get her body to use some of that to create the new tissues. The
research also said that there is a significant concentration and flow of
bio energy in that area when the woman is turned on like that, peaking at
orgasm. I can draw that energy more easily, and use the burst when she cums
to wipe out my traces. In theory. If I read it right."
"You're not sure?"
"Not really. I want to observe and try a few things with someone for whom,
frankly, it won't matter much, before someone's whole future is literally
in my hands."
"That would seem sensible. I take it you are willing to do this, then?"
"Of course. Hmmm. I'll need to talk to Lena a moment. About my parents."
"Do you want to call Miss Morgan from my phone?" An interesting look of
irony crossed the older woman's face.
"Got it covered." Angel grinned. *Hey Lena! You busy?*
*Just doing homework for the rest of my life. What's up?*
*I've got something going on at the spa. Could you talk to Mrs. T. and
relay some things to my folks?*
*Sounds interesting. Hang on.*
Mrs. Tabor made no effort to hide the conversation she had with Lena. She
smiled and nodded. She opened her mouth to say something, when her screen
pinged.
"Come in, my dear." She called to the door. An attractive young woman, who
looked to be in her early twenties, stepped in with an air of coming to
attention. Her boss smiled and invited her to take another of the
comfortable chairs.
The young woman's eyes twinkled. "Oh, no. Not the comfy chair!" Angel got
the feeling she was quoting something, something funny. But she didn't
recognize the quote.
"I'm afraid so, my dear. We would like to ask you for... a rather unusual
favor."
"Another kinky client?"
"Something much more serious, I'm afraid. And delicate."
"Delicate?"
"As your employer, it would violate several laws, and our own rules, for me
to ask you to have anything to do with this. Something very important is
happening, and this young lady is a part of it. I will only ask you to show
her to room T 15, and make up your own mind about what she asks you to do."
She typed something. "The monitors are off."
"O... k..." She got up, then smiled at Angel. "C'mon. I'll show you the
way."
"She really likes you," Angel observed.
"It's mutual. I owe her more than my life, and she has always been good to
me."
"You're not asking anything."
"Not here. You'll tell me what I need to know, when we get there. Then,
I'll do what she said, and make up my own mind." She turned to Angel and
grinned. "Besides, I bet it's gonna be something interesting."
"Probably." Angel returned an ironic smile.
The room was in the training area. Angel had assumed that was what the
letter indicated. Inside was a table, which reminded her uncomfortably of a
medical examination table. Also, some chairs, a small rolling table, a tiny
sink and counter, and some cabinets.
"What is this room used for?"
"Sometimes, for minor medical examinations and procedures. It's also used
to train for things we do in the similar client rooms. Everything from
waxes and pubic trims, to piercings. We've even delivered a few babies,
over the years."
Angel winced at the idea of piercings there. She had heard of such things,
but the thought was just a little bit too unpleasant. Her guide closed and
locked the door, then flipped a switch labeled "In Use".
"We're private now. Nobody can see or hear what's going on. So what do you
need?"
"Well," Angel stammered. "I will need you to masturbate some, while I watch
with my extra senses. Then I will ask you to stop, and I will try to regrow
part of your hymen. Then, I will need you to bring yourself to orgasm."
Angel's face was bright red, but it was from embarrassment, not excitement.
"Ok," she replied simply. "Anything else?"
Angel was surprised by the casual answer. But she thought a moment, then
realized there was something she needed to try first. "Yes. Do you have any
small scars or stretch marks you'd like to get rid of?"
"I have this one," she said, indicating a small pale mark on her arm.
"Perfect. Just a moment." Angel put her finger over the scar and convinced
it to heal. Then she matched the coloring of the new area with the rest of
the upper arm. She barely noticed the effort.
She stepped back for a moment, then looked at the arm with everything she
had. She could see a discontinuity in the energies of the tissues there,
and recognized it as her own. So that was what the signature looked like.
Nodding to herself, she turned and said, "Ok, Let's begin."
Her subject carefully removed her skirt and panties, folding them neatly
onto a chair. She opened a door in the table's pedestal, and pulled out a
couple of white, fluffy towels and a small pillow. From another opening,
she pulled a pair of OB stirrups, and attached them to the foot of the
table. She was smiling as she did so, as though amused by the whole thing.
Finally, with an amused look of her own, Angel had to ask, "Ok, what?"
"Do you have any idea how long I've wanted to jill off in this place?" she
laughed. "The only thing that would make it better would be doing so in one
of the client rooms. So pull up a chair," she indicated the area between
the stirrups, "and enjoy the show. Let me know when to stop, and if you
need anything special."
With that, she dropped a small portion of the table, leaving two short arms
leading to the stirrups, spread a towel over the end of the table nearest
that spot, and climbed into place. With her legs up, she was positioned so
that her vulva was right at the edge, in clear view and accessible.
The situation wasn't perfect. She was already somewhat aroused, so Angel
couldn't get a complete idea of her rest state. But as she fingered
herself, and her clit and labia engorged, Angel saw what she expected.
When she felt like there was enough of an energy flow, she said to stop.
The heavily breathing girl complied, after a couple of last strokes. Angel
asked her to spread her labia, and she did so. Angel reached up and put two
fingers near the entrance to her vagina. She started pulling and moving the
energy flows, being careful not to pump any of her own energy into her
subject. She focused the flows, and got them to tease growth from a part of
the minimal remnants of her hymen.
"Do you want it completely regrown?"
"No thanks. It was a pain to get rid of the first time. Fun, but a pain."
Angel nodded and made sure the growth would not interfere with anything.
She found a clear cellular memory of the original form of the hymen, just
as she hoped she would. She stopped, and pulled away. Looking carefully,
she could see faint traces of her energy signature. "Go ahead and finish.
Stop after one good cum, and we'll go from there."
For the next few minutes, Angel was little more than a voyeuristic
spectator. She had to admit, seeing a girl - another girl - get herself off
like that was turning her on. The disturbing part was that her fantasies
involved someone - herself or a decidedly male someone - doing that to her
own pussy.
The girl arched up for a moment, then collapsed. Angel took a close look.
There was no sign of her energy. This could work.
"I'm done. Thank you." Angel grinned. "Feel free to continue, if you like."
"Please stay and watch. Somehow, I like it that way."
Angel nodded and sat there, fascinated. It didn't take long for the
excitement to build again, and again. And again. Finally, she collapsed,
with a big, tired smile on her face.
"Thanks. I needed that," she grinned. She staggered to her feet, and Angel
helped her put things away. The towels and pillow went into a chute in the
wall. The girl typed a simple message into her tablet: "We're done."
*Well?*
*It works. What now?*
*Rest for a little while, and I'll let you know when all is ready. You seem
to have made a new friend.* Angel was about to respond, when she went on.
*Your mother is bringing you a change of clothes and your school things for
tomorrow. we'll put you up here for the night, when you're done.*
*Probably a good idea. From past experience, I'll be pretty wiped out by
the time I'm done.*
The girl smiled at Angel. "Apparently, I need to take you to wardrobe, and
then have a drink with you. And a snack, if you want."
"Sounds good," Angel smiled. "I just realized... I don't know your name."
"I know," she grinned, cheekily. "I'll tell you if and when you come to
work for us."
Angel stuck her tongue out at her, then grinned. "So, what are we going to
wardrobe for?"
"A lot of the time, the right clothes are a big part of the experience. A
beautician's smock, a lab coat, even a uniform can be a part of setting the
mood. Rather than making us buy and take care of all that, we have a whole
wardrobe department. You will be getting a medical smock. They will also
have a standard issue tablet for you."
Angel nodded. When they got there, she noticed that her companion thumbed
for everything. Thinking about it, it made sense. Again, no records of her.
They went to the service bar and ordered. Angel got a shake, and her
companion got an energy drink.
"How are you going to keep that figure, if you keep drinking things like
that?"
"I'm a bio elemental. And I'm going to be using a lot of energy."
"You want some food? It's on the house."
"What's good?"
"Honestly, everything but the health food." A girl who was walking by
stopped, stuck her tongue out at them, then continued on her way. "Just
yanking her chain. How hungry are you, and for what kinds of stuff. They
can do just about anything."
"I need a good bit of protein, preferably red meat, and some carbs."
"How does a steak sandwich and fries sound? They do a great one."
"Ooh, that does sound good."
Her companion put something in on her tablet. "Salad?"
"No thanks. I need raw materials rather than just filling space."
A moment later, their tablets pinged, and displayed a message saying
"Soup's on."
They went to the end of the service bar, where a large plate was waiting.
The sandwich was the fanciest, and one of the largest, steak sandwiches
Angel had ever seen. And they didn't exactly skimp on the fries.
As they carried it back to the table, Angel offered, "Wanna split it? It's
more than I need, and it would be a shame to waste any."
"I thought you'd never ask," she grinned.
They ate and talked, mostly about what it was like to work there and what
it was like to be a bio elemental. Even a weak one.
The next time the tablets pinged, they said, "It's time." Angel's companion
showed her to a "secret" door, wished her luck, and left.
Angel glanced at her tablet. There was more text than before. It said that
her client had been briefed about the preparation, treatment, and post
treatment necessities. Angel need only say "Phase 1" to have her start,
"Phase 2" to have her stop, and expect Angel's ministrations, and "Phase 3"
to complete the earlier process. Angel had a respect for the indirect
nature of the language.
The room she stepped into was more elaborate than the training room. In
addition to the fancier decor, there was a beauty chair in addition to the
examination table. The sinks, counter, and so on were larger, as well.
There was a closet, but no apparent door to the outside. Her subject was on
the table, with her legs up in the stirrups and a warm, moist towel over
her face. She could probably see a little from under the towel, so the
smock made sense.
She couldn't help but notice that the woman was a morf - a powerful
elemental, with other features, who looked completely non morf. She didn't
want to pry, so she didn't try to notice anything more.
Angel sat as before, then said "Phase 1." The woman started exciting
herself. It was interesting to see the differences in the ways her two
subjects did effectively the same thing. This one was much less inventive,
more businesslike than the other. All things considered, that was hardly
surprising. It was also not surprising that it took her longer to get to
the necessary level.
"Phase 2" The hand motion stopped. One hand was withdrawn, and the other
reached down to spread her lips. Concentrating for all she was worth, Angel
moved two fingers in as before, and carefully drew out and used the energy.
After what seemed like hours, she was done. She was tired, but far from
exhausted. Looking at her handiwork, she got an idea. She moved her fingers
to the side, to the part of the left labia that would normally cover the
vagina. Pulling on the other energy again, she created a small line of scar
tissue, and a little, healed nick.
That done, she withdrew and looked. There was a little more of her
signature, but still not much.
"Phase 3" She watched, as the fingers explored the new tissue, then got to
work with renewed vigor. Angel had not only regrown the tissue (in the
configuration it remembered), she had aged the new growth, so there was no
sign that anything had been done.
When the client was fully involved with phase 3, Angel slipped away and
pressed the icon on her tablet that said "Done".
"Turn in the wardrobe and tablet, and come to the office." That seemed
clear enough.
At wardrobe, the woman behind the counter was shuffling some paperwork, and
told her to just leave them on the counter. She didn't even look at Angel.
Angel wondered whether that was part of the plan.
When she got back to the office, she was starting to feel her energy
expenditure. And what she recognized as the beginnings of adrenalin crash.
She stood in front of the desk, afraid that she might fall asleep in the
chair.
She reported that all seemed to go well, but suggested another round of
masturbation before the exam. If possible. She also described her little
added touch. "It looks like a recently healed cut, about the same age as
the destruction. Maybe some of them will believe he missed."
Mrs. Tabor seemed quite pleased with that notion.
She then told Angel that her things had arrived and were waiting in her
room. She also assured her that she had the thanks of her subject, her
subject's fianc?, and her boss-to-be.
Cindy appeared, and guided her to her room. It was the fanciest bedroom she
had ever seen in person, outside of a museum. She barely noted that fact
while she slipped out of her clothes and into bed.
End Part 13