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George raised the XMAH camera to the window. He nestled back against the crook of the window with the light brown curtains at his back. There was a streetlight just outside the window but it didn't bother George. It was just off to the side of where he was half sitting on the inside window frame, but the brilliance of the bulb gave him complete obscurity from the street and the passing punters as they came down the hill towards the town. He could see a girl approaching now, on the other side of the street but that wouldn't matter so much with this model, which had zooming ability. He raised the XMAH to his eye, looking through the hole at the figure across the street. He could see her better now, she was a pretty young thing in a modest but very beautiful white dress which covered her body to her thighs quite tastefully, but leaving a dip in the material between the tops of her breasts and her long legs were sleek and faintly tinged with yellow from the street bulbs overhead. He clicked the focal lens, actually rolling the dial too far in his haste and just for a moment, his mind seemed to photograph a perfectly visible saffire blue eye, but it was gone in a moment and he pulled the zoom back, shocked at the power of the new camera. He refocused on the unaware girl and he felt a thrill passing through him as he realised how simple it was. His voyeurism wasn't on the girls mind at all, she was unaware of him in the extreme sense. Even his play across the very intimate face of the girl had been unfelt. It was exciting. Through the lens he traced his own eyes over those breasts, they weren't large but they weren't bad in any way either. They were at the lower range of his tastes but he was willing to bet that they would come out well on the photograph. He zoomed out a little more though until he captured the whole of her in the first photograph. You never knew when an inconvenient truck might roll obscuringly past, or when someone else might enter the frame and because of the interaction between the two characters, the private pleasure George gleamed from his photos might be lost. He pressed the button. The camera flashed brighter than he had expected and he saw nothing for a moment, as the haze slowly cleared from his eyes. He blinked twice stretching the lids and screwing his eyes closed to assist the recovery and then when the world came back he saw the street again, and the figure, still walking along the road oblivious. George felt the thrill running through him again. She hadn't noticed. The camera was whirring in his hands and he felt the soft chunk as the camera insides stopped suddenly. That shouldn't have happened, the camera was supposed to take the pictures. Maybe something had gone wrong with the insides. He turned the camera around in his hands, looking at the dark, black eye, and it happened in a moment. Though his hands were not near the button to control it, the flash suddenly went off again, unsettling him from his precarious position so that he slid on the frictionless plastic of the window, passing briefly across the slats of the radiator and then down heavily onto the floor onto his back. For a moment, the world persisted in darkness again, for longer because the flash had caught him off guard, but George wasn't worried. He found his character was pretty solid when confusion came knocking, and to the best of his own knowledge he'd never panicked in his life. It was just a mark of his intelligence, he supposed. The room began to come back now, slowly, fading down from the pulpy purples and startled blues down to the soft tones of the dark ceiling. He did feel a little strange though as he lay there. He could feel his breathing taking a turn upwards, probably just due to the sudden shock, and he did feel a little queasy in his stomach too which he had heard could also be attributed to certain types of shock. He rolled onto his side and suddenly felt the bile rising up his throat. There wasn't even time to move, just time for one single thought to go through his mind that he didn't have anything to be sick into. But he needn't have worried on that account for what rose up out of him was only a gust of gastric air. The burp was strong and fierce unlike he had had in years and he could swear, even as it ripped up out of him that his body felt even lighter because of it. He struggled for breath though, pushing himself up onto his hands and knees slowly. Something was wrong. He knew that now. Had that bump done something inside him? His lower stomach felt really strange now, as though the area below his bulging belly was churning around. He could feel the sickness coming back in a wave and pushed himself back onto his knees as his position seemed more solidly against the feeling being upright rather than close to horizontal. As he settled back onto the backs of his feet he felt the first stab of pain from his lower regions. It was a deep pinch, as if two strands of muscle inside him were grating against each other. This wasn't good. Had he winded himself in the fall? His breath was coming shorter now and again there came one of those huge burps. The girl's name had been Kerry, he suddenly realised, and the thought made him pause. How had he known that? Kerry Marsh. That was strange. There was information about her in his mind. He had no recollection of talking to the girl before, or even knew of any other way in which that knowledge could possibly have been acquired, but it was there and it felt close enough to be true although he didn't know how that could be either. She had been walking down the street and she'd felt a chill going through her. George knew it, as if her memory of it was somewhere inside him. George felt his unease growing. He hadn't known any of that, but he could... he could see out of the girls eyes as she walked in the place of memory. It was strange and clouded, though not as foggy as it should have been. It was a memory, not a vision. Another one of those huge burps and George put his hands onto his belly, as though hugging a hurting part of himself. This time George actually felt the movement continuing inside him and he looked sharply down at himself, not believing what was happening, that things were actually moving around down there like snakes under his skin. His belly had shrunk too. There was no doubt. It had shrunk with the burping although he didn't know where all the air had come from, or how it had got down there. What was worse though was that he could feel the skin of his belly shrinking even more under the onslaught of his latest exhalation. He felt shivers running up and down his taut spine and felt a chill of fear. This was just too strange. This was weird. He lifted the stained t-shirt he was wearing and looked at his belly. It had been large with a few hairs across it before, now it was flat in some strange unearthly sense, and the hair was gone there was just smooth, young looking skin. In fact the skin there looked... well... wrong... "What the fuck..." George breathed. Another stab of pain shot up out of his groin and he dropped a hand down into his lap, his whole situation coming to him in a rush as he discovered that nothing was in his pants now, his manhood was completely gone, taken while he had been looking elsewhere. His back gave a sudden sharp jerk and George choked off the scream into a whimper of pain. He didn't need to reach back to know that his back now had a faintly feminine curve to it. His ribs were rising in his chest, pushing up bone and muscle and compressing his lungs even further until he was breathing in short breaths. There was no panic, and he marvelled even in his state of the fact of that. There was a tension, and unease but it was a long way from panic. He lifted his hands up to his chest and he felt the bubbling under the skin, faintly unpleasant, and then his breasts inflated out, filling his hands. He gasped, feeling his ribs still moving, still compressing. He wanted to scream, but he couldn't find the breath to do anything but gasp faintly. Kerry Marsh, she lived up the road, six or seven streets up opposite the converted post office, six houses down, the one with the green door. George found that he knew that street like the back of his hand though he had never been down it in his life. She had been thinking about debt as she walked down the street. Her credit was teetering at the moment and she couldn't really afford going out tonight, but it had been her birthday, and she might not get another one. George rolled sidewards on the floor again, rolling down and onto his back. He felt his unbending spine curving strangely under him, popping quietly and suddenly there was a sharp shot of pain whipping up through him, agony only of a moment though and soon extinguished by the returning realisation of what was happening. His dick had gone. he had breasts. Oh god... this was not true, this couldn't be true. He whimpered and another thread of pain would up from his belly, his shoulders and neck twitching and jerking. He lifted his hand and saw that it wasn't his own any longer. Then his breath was free again and he gasped in lungfuls of the sharp air, his whole body shuddering in the freedom of breath. He suddenly knew that it was all over. He wasn't himself any longer. "Hey. Are you alright?" George sat up quickly, jerking his head around, but he scanned the room in vain. He could have sworn he heard someone speaking. "Hello?" he asked, plaintively. His voice, oh god, his voice was high and less gritty, a firmly girlish voice. For the first time, he felt a sudden thrill of the feeling that he had staved off many times, the first pluckings of fear, lowering him towards that savage stream which could with ferocious certainty carry him away from what he thought of as reality. He felt like a miner descending towards an underground stream. If he did fall into that panic, he would lose himself in it and perhaps he would never know true daylight sense again. There would always just be reflections of it, even if he were able to pull himself out of that river somehow. The analogy helped. He felt his feet finding their footholds and suddenly everything seemed to float back into focus. He was back to himself. Was there someone here with him, in the flat? How could there have been? There had been no one earlier when he had walked through to the kitchen at the other end of the flat, and more than that, why had that voice spoken so boldly, so clearly? George pushed at the ground, feeling his body moving lithely and easily as he rose up to feet that he was sure suddenly were not quite his own. No, that wasn't right. They were his feet, but they had been... changed somehow. They had been recast in the shape of someone else. That someone was Kerry Marsh. He knew that, he could feel that, and far away, there was a whisper of wind plucking gently at his new hair, an incautious whisper from the darkness of his own mind, which somehow preserved something of Kerry within him. This wasn't good, this wasn't right. "Who are you George?" The voice came from his own lips this time, just another whisper, under his breath but calmly indignant. He felt his rope dropping several more feet towards that gushing river. He was losing control. He didn't know how it was happening but there was something wrong here. What could he do about that? He took a breath, thinking. The camera had done this. He was sure of it. Again, he wasn't sure exactly how he knew that, but he felt it. It felt uniquely right. He stepped towards it, tottering as his native knowledge seemed to momentarily fail him. He snatched up the camera from the floor and looked it over, but there was nothing but the red button on the top of the black case to take the photographs. He flicked up the back and looked at the previous photograph sitting carefully on the inspection plate. He could see that the picture had been perfect and the girl, Kerry, filled the frame. There was no picture of him although the flash had gone off facing him, he was sure of it. He glanced over to the side, spotting the box on the floor, the white manual tossed aside as his groping hands had eagerly withdrawn the instrument itself, impatient with the instructions on use because of his own experience with previous camera models. Now he grabbed out at the manual like it was a lifeline. But he was amazed to discover that the whole page wasn't actually writing, it was just blurred images of text and not actually readable at all. "Oh fuck..." he breathed. Now he didn't have any kind of lifeline. How could he possibly reverse what the camera had done to him? All right, maybe he could use the girl's... Kerry Marsh...body, but he didn't want all these complications... She'd been thinking about debt. She'd wanted to push that thought from her mind. She wanted to find some energetic teen to take her mind... STOP. George became aware that tears were streaming down his face. Oh god, no... what the fuck was happening...? Why was he crying? He decided he didn't know. He just felt awful and somehow that had kind of jumped into territory that he thought had been somehow further apart in a mental way when he'd been himself. He reached up and brushed at his soft face, feeling the strangely untempered skin of his cheeks. "George?" His mouth moved again, again that whisper. It seemed as if it were moving entirely on it's own as his body or something within it orchestrated the movements involved in the vocalisation. "Who are you?" George asked impulsively. He reasoned suddenly that having determined that nobody could or would actually hear this, he didn't have much ground for not at least trying to talk to that inner voice. "You live behind the back of this building?" George had a sudden vivid image of the building where his flat was located and he felt a sinking feeling as he dropped a little more towards that river below. His hand touched steel and he looked down at it suddenly, feeling the steel there of a door handle and at the same time he thought he heard a sound carried up from the street door below. Oh shit... "What did you do to me?" the inner voice asked. "Who the hell are you?" George said quickly back, louder than he had intended. "I...I think you know who I am..." the inner voice said calmly. He heard someone climbing the creaking stairs from street level. Was it true? How was it possible? "I know about the camera," the inner voice said. "How was it done?" George pushed himself up from the bed. She couldn't get in. She couldn't get in. He walked quickly, desperately around the bed, back through the door and stood at the corner, looking at the flat entrance. He heard the climber stopping outside that door. "Open the door," the girl out there said distinctly. George didn't move though, he felt suddenly trapped. "Come on," the girl called impatiently. "I know you're listening, and I know you're there." "The neighbours will hear you," George said in reaction, again under his breath. He was bluffing of course, he'd heard them both heading down the stairs earlier that night. "They're out," she said with certainty. "I know that, because you know." "What the fuck happened?" George whispered. "I don't know," the girl called through the thick wood. "Open the door, lets talk about it." "There's nothing to talk about!" George said, louder now, dropping the whisper. "I think there is," she said, and George sensed and even felt the fierce, controlled embarrassment. George's hand suddenly rose, completely on it's own it stayed in front of his face for a moment and then struck a stinging slap across one cheek. He felt Kerry's smile through six feet of air and two inches of wood. "I can control you," Kerry said. "I think." The voice was threatening now, gleeful even. Kerry was confused but she was thinking fast and hard. "George?" She's turned on... The thought came to him with conviction. Something in the invasion of her body and soul had stirred Kerry up, touching on buttons and levers that she hadn't even found herself yet. George's leg moved forwards, on it's own but this time he overrode the feeling, drawing his leg back. "What do you want?" George said, feeling some of the calmness sweeping back again, despite the situation. "I want to see you," Kerry said. George made a spot decision then, he stepped forwards on his own, taking the key from the inner room, the door was only just behind him. He slid back the bolt from the top of the door and pushed the key into the lock, turning it only after the briefest hesitation. He paused with his hand on the handle. There was the American thing coming up too. She didn't know what possibilities were going to come up from that, but perhaps if the guy was smart then something might be... arranged. It would be beneficial to her if she had a... The steel of the handle wasn't as cold as the outer door had been, but George pushed down the handle. This is it... he thought, this was where we come face to face. Shit am I really her? He pulled at the door and the side of it opened, light from the well-lit stairwell streaming into the flat, dust motes dancing in the air. He looked around the door carefully, and there was the girl in the white dress. Her eyes widened as she saw him, then she stepped forwards and George felt himself stepping away from the door. She slipped lightly inside, closing the door, her hand reaching up as if by itself just as his own hands had done so many times, flicking the top bolt closed with practiced skill. Kerry reached out to the wall and she flicked the light switch even though she couldn't have known it was exactly there first time in here. "Why were you looking at me?" Kerry asked him, but he didn't have the answers. He felt curiously trapped. She stepped forwards. "I know about you George," she said. "I don't know how it happened, but it did. Your name is George Wesley Atkinson. Your mothers name is Faern Atkinson. I know your bank account numbers, everything." She stepped up again so that they were close together but not actually touching. "You opened Pandora's Box didn't you?" she asked. "You didn't mean to, but you did." "Leave me alone," George said, odd to hear her voice in his mouth. Her eyes flashed with conviction. "No," she said plainly. "You took advantage of me." "I didn't," he protested. "I didn't know this would happen." "But you tried to photograph me," she replied. "I can see it in your mind." "What do you want?" George asked, scared. Maybe he could get this out of the way, find a way out of this maze before too long and finally get back to being himself. He wasn't enjoying being Kerry. She was too... well... real. Kerry put her face on one side. "I don't know," she said. "Maybe I should embarrass you too." "I just want to get back to being me," George admitted. "Tell me what I have to do?" It was like a plea and Kerry smiled a little more. "No," she answered. "I think you'll be useful. You can go to work in my place, that kind of thing." "No," George said. "I won't do it." "You're forgetting..." Kerry said with a smile. "I know everything about you, and about the camera. I know exactly how it works and how to use it." She brought her hands around and placed them boldly just above George's hips. The touch felt too intimate to George, even though she barely pressed on him, her hands were there and they were gentle without the savagery that was in her voice. He wanted to step backwards but he didn't want to. He wasn't a coward, not when it came right down to it, he was proud and that was foolish. "I even know what you're thinking, right now," the girl said. "I can hear your thoughts in my mind now." "This is wrong," George said deliberately. Kerry tilted her head back the other way. "Is it?" she asked and there was a gentle coldness in her eyes. "What would you have done to me, in your imagination?" George didn't know what to say. "Wouldn't it be cruel?" she asked, penetratingly. "Would you fuck me until my ass bled and my slutty cunt screamed with agony?" She blinked slowly. "Isn't that what all guys want? I can see you for everything you are now, don't try and lie to me." George didn't try and lie. He didn't say anything. She put her arms around George, stepping closer so that their bodies were finally touching, hers pressed up against his. He felt a little ill. Their lips were an inch apart, each gazing into the other. "You're a perfect copy of me physically. You even know bits and pieces about me," she said. "But I know everything about you George. I know what you think of as you wank during the night. I know you like photographing the girls on the street to put onto your computer. You want to print them off but you dare not in case someone looks through the window and sees someone they know, or a visitor spots a friend in them." "You... you... you're heartless," George said, it was weak but he couldn't think of anything to say. Kerry lifted one of her hands, stroking a finger across George's forehead, brushing away a strand of hair. She shook her head, a cocky smile on her face now. "No," she answered. "You opened my eyes a little more, that's all." She paused. "Although I suppose the power that you've inadvertently given me, over your mind and the whole of your body is worth my gratitude, there is still the matter of the voyeurism." "You don't own me." Kerry's mouth grinned. "But that is just what I do own, George. Shall I prove it?" George thought for a second. What could she do? Really? "Alright," he said, rising to the challenge. She put her head on the other side again. "George, you're new name is Katie. You will fall in love with me, right now and you will live to make me happy. Making me happy will make you happy." Katie gasped, suddenly startled by a heat behind her forehead. She slid more than fell, her legs buckling forwards and Kerry let her go. Katie crashed down to her knees, stunned, and she became slowly aware of the figure still standing in front of her. Kerry's body was hers, and Katie was Kerry's. There was no taboo between them now, no centre, and no split. They were two sides of the same coin and Katie wasn't the least bit concerned that she was to all intents and purposes, the victim. There was no hesitation as Katie whipped up the hem of Kerry's dress, her hands scrabbling at the white panties. She had them down before Kerry's hands closed in Katie's hair and Katie pushed her head sharply forwards, burning with sudden animal need. Kerry bent a little surprised and some of Katie's hair was pulled out as she almost tore free of Kerry's grip. Katie's tongue pushed into Kerry's body and she was surprised when she found that her tongue was longer and thicker than it had been before. The tongue invaded to the limit and Katie quickly tasted her soulmate's tense and sudden arousal, and even more than that an echoing buzz seemed to trill up from her own crotch. She was so unused to that deep feeling of total contentment but it didn't matter at all. She had to make Kerry happy, she had to bring her to the limits of happiness now so that she might one day be less of a slave to that hungering need, or even just have better control over that intensity. Kerry moaned and put one leg back but Katie put her hands onto Kerry's ass cheeks and held her body against Katie's face as her tongue continued to explore Kerry's interior. Katie felt real hesitation and starting within Kerry now but that didn't really matter so very much. "No," Kerry whispered. "Don't do this..." Katie ignored her. This wasn't just about sex, it wasn't about her, or about Kerry, it wasn't about pride, about need, or about vanity. It was simply the absolute life or death need to make Kerry happy. Katie's sudden single purpose was to carry Kerry up to somewhere that she had never been before, and all her effort was worth the sacrifice. Perhaps even, although Katie couldn't immediately imagine a situation when it might happen, giving her very life to the cause. It wasn't about being noble, or just or right. It was just perfect need. Katie's tongue thrashed inexpertly around inside Kerry's body and suddenly Kerry's hands were on Katie's forehead and she was pushing hard against her face. Katie hardly felt it and a moment later Kerry tripped, sprawling backwards. Katie matched her and never lost a millimetre to the movement. "Katie, stop," Kerry asked, and Katie felt a little panic in her voice now, but that was alright, it had nothing to do with what she had to do. Katie tasted something almost bitter on her tongue and she knew that her efforts, though perhaps inexperienced in the extreme were winning through by their own persistence. "KATIE!" Kerry said, louder so that Katie suddenly couldn't discount it. She felt a rising resentment in Kerry and knew she had to pay more attention to what the other side of her soul was saying. "STOP DOING THAT!" Kerry finished. And at first, Katie was puzzled, but then she began to realise that perhaps her own inexperience was making her efforts more uncomfortable than pleasurable to Kerry. Perhaps she should try a different way. She slid her tongue back into her mouth, tasting her sister all the way along it, and quickly moved up her soul sister's body, latching onto the erect nipple through the dress and reaching up to play with the other, she sucked gently and pushing the dress up with her other free hand she uncovered Kerry's nipple, and set to teasing it with her tongue, her body lying across Kerry's personal cleft, protecting it with the warmth and bulk of her own body. Kerry felt the mounting feeling of arousal in her body and she didn't like it. The guy, George's head was buried in her crotch, invading her with his... her tongue. This wasn't good, and Kerry felt a little ashamed on George's part. This was more than voyeurism and the gently exchanged lies. This was serious and Kerry knew that it was her that had uncovered this in the girl who was trying to become fiercely inseparable from Kerry on a new and quite too personal level. Kerry's eyes ran up as an internal wave gripped her whole body, caused by those thrashings of the girl who Kerry suddenly and unconditionally knew, did not even regard this act as wanting of shame. Kerry had done that. George had been a semi-normal human being, and she had chosen to savagely reduce him to this. It was more than wrong. "Katie..." She had told the girl this was her name hadn't she? But the whisper came out unnoticed and hardly more than a breath. Kerry automatically took a step away from Katie, but even before her leg moved to the first new position, Katies hands were grasping at Kerry's arse holding her stationary to allow the assault on her body to continue. The rite had been performed perfectly and to the letter as she supposed she'd known it would have been, she just hadn't been able to foresee to what extent the rite would hold sway over Katie. Kerry felt a tickle, far inside her and she gasped as another lesser shudder came up. My god she's deep. She's deep inside me. How can a tongue stretch so far? Kerry dropped her hands down and suddenly tried to push Katie back. She didn't want this. She didn't want to be responsible for this girl's complete and total embarrassment. That was too high of a donation. But Katie's forehead was like stone, set against her, there was no pushing her back and even at the attempt, Katie's hands and pulled against her buttocks, probably bruising them in an effort to drive herself deeper into... into her sister. Oh shit... this is bad; this is spiralling out of control fast. Katie thought of herself as an extension of Kerry. She could feel it with cold certainty. She hardly even thought that there was even a Katie any more, or at least not in the same sense. Kerry suddenly overbalanced and went backwards onto her back, pulled and pushed in places that had been instrumental in her centre of balance. Katie's forehead never missed any of the movement; she was joined to Kerry all the way down. Kerry was struck by a sudden and odd though that brought a little clarity in its wake. If my ass is going to bruise then my front's going to be black and blue, and what about Katie's face? The rite... it had to be stopped, and quickly. Kerry thought distinctly to herself as she had done before. How can I stop this? But though she knew the answer suddenly, she knew also that if she weren't careful, the rite would start to affect her too. Indeed, through her mounting arousal, Kerry could also foresee that her need to change this was being eaten fast by Katie's efforts against her purpose. Kerry had said that Katie had to make her happy, and that was what Katie was intent on ferociously doing. Whether or not Kerry wanted that was a different matter entirely. Suddenly a real stab of pleasure came and Kerry knew she was getting closer now to orgasm. She knew that there were different types of orgasm, as any girl of a decent age would understand, but she knew in the same that in the end, Katie's inexperience wouldn't matter. She had one purpose in mind and absolutely nothing else mattered, not even breathing mattered as much as the instruction that Kerry had given her. But because of that, that Katie was so utterly devoted to her purpose, it simply would out-compete every other orgasm that Kerry might have had and that would undoubtedly irrevocably tie the two of them together emotionally. "KATIE," Kerry tied, feeling panic creeping into her mind. "STOP DOING THAT." Kerry felt Katie's hesitation now; there had been something in her voice that had given her self-destructive influence pause. Katie's tongue withdrew completely and for a moment Kerry thought that some sanity had come back to them, this was going to stop now and they would be able to push and pull the whole situation back up to a normal level. But then Katie was moving up her, moving like a striking snake. She latched her mouth greedily onto Kerry's left breast, caressing her right with her hand. Kerry's dress was pushed up above her chest, though lower than her chin in some deference within Katie's addled mind, of Kerry's face. She felt the girl latching back onto the traitorously erect nipple and this time there was hardly anything unprofessional in the gesture and Kerry felt her mounting lust growing higher, even though she knew in her heart of hearts that she wasn't attracted to any kind of girl beyond a certain level anyway. She was straight all the way, but all the same doubts were entering her mind and they wouldn't retreat back. The rite... It has to end. As Katie was tugging at the most tender flesh of Kerry's body, causing a deep flush to gush across her face as she fought the desire back just to lay there and let Katie finish what she wanted. The problem with that though was that Kerry knew that it wouldn't end. Katie would suck on that nipple, teasing and prodding it until sores sprang up on it, until the nipple was utterly savaged, beyond any semblance of flexibility, attractiveness, or even usefulness. Her passion for Kerry was greater than life itself and it was fed by absolutely everything in what remained of her mind. With effort, Kerry pushed her hands up behind her, Katie not even noticing, although it would be wrong to say anything about her was uncaring when so obviously that was the ultimately wrong assumption to make. The Camera. She thought. It's the only hope. Kerry knew where it was, or she thought she did because she had watched in her mind as George had dropped it. Katie began to purr against her chest, her throat vibrating the exposed and completely captured flesh on offer and somehow it drove the feeling of contentment up within Kerry. Suddenly a sentence came up, an actual thought, pushing roughly through the broiling seas of passion raging within Katie. The thought was partially vocalised but owing to her position at the time, heavily muffled. Kerry picked it up clearly though because of the sudden, unexplained mental link. "I wish one of us had a penis. I could make you so happy. I'd give you mine if you wanted it." The thought was entirely throwing and Kerry dropped back down from her heavily weighted arms with a thud onto the carpet. She was completely shocked, because it had been entirely Katie's sole wish. It was just an expression of something that Kerry already knew but all the same, it was completely horrible. Kerry didn't linger though, the crouching tigers of desire leapt on her resolve, aiming to tear it up, and she only just avoided that encounter by rebolstering that resolve with fresh determination. She crawled now with the fuel of desperation, pulling both of them along the floor. It took an age to climb around the bed, but she was finally in a position to grab at the camera. More muffled musings and suddenly Katie was stirring again from her position. She crawled even further up Kerry's body now, settling face to face. "Give me a dick," she said, breathing heavily, their bodies pressed together right the way along their perfectly symmetrical lengths. Katie kissed the lower of Kerry's parted lips but she didn't invade this time, she held herself back, her eyes alight with passion. Kerry reached back, struggling to reach for the camera again She felt its side but she wasn't yet in a position to take hold of it. Katie's hand pulled at her arm, pulling it back down with undeniable, fanatical strength. "You want the camera?" Katie asked, her small tongue poking between her lips nervous and playful. "Yes," Kerry breathed, wondering if in Katie's pursuit of Kerry's happiness, she might not want to go back to being normal again. "Alright," Katie said. "I'll let you have the camera, but you have to do something for me too." This was strange, and new. Perhaps Katie wasn't as unbalanced as Kerry had first thought. She had actually wanted something from Kerry, for herself. That gesture was a measure of personal gain, irrelevant to her need of Kerry's happiness. "I love this body you have given me," Katie said slowly, and with immense conviction. "But give me something else. Give me a dick instead of a vagina. My vagina is an instrument of personal gratification and I cannot use it to give more to you. I know you know how to do it." That was slyness too. It was frightening. Kerry began to wonder then if there would be any way that Katie would be able to distance herself from Kerry at all after all of this. If Kerry somehow rejected her, in perhaps even only the slightest way then Katie's life would be less than nothing any more, she would kill herself and with a clear if troubled conscience. And suddenly, in Katie's eyes, Kerry knew that there was no discussion to it. She saw that yes, she did know how Katie could regrow her original dick, or even an extended one, and she knew that otherwise, Katie would always prevent her from using the camera to stop this. On the other hand... On the other hand, perhaps Katie knew what Kerry's intentions were, that she wanted Katie to be normal again, or at least normal as she could be. She perhaps didn't want that, but she accepted it and that it would in the end make Kerry happy, although not as happy as it could have been otherwise, it was Kerry's decision and Katie would live with that and any other decision that Kerry selected for her. So, in spite of herself, Kerry thought the rite command again, and told Katie's body on a deep and personal way, to change. This time Katie gasped, rolling her eyes partly in shock, her mouth opening in an internal, surprised O, and at the same time, Kerry felt something pushing into her as it grew. The familiarity struck deep, much, much deeper than Kerry had anticipated. Quite suddenly, Katie was an acceptable object of desire in a mind blowing way that Kerry had not at all foreseen. She was at least partly a guy and her body had been made with guys in mind. With a curious feeling, in light of this fact, Kerry realised that Katie had schemed this, and had counted on Kerry's body's further betrayal of her mind. Kerry was suddenly so shocked that she fell completely still. Katie had duped her, and now even less of her resolve was there, there was less conviction and the tigers were once again circling. There was no way that the resolve was going to escape unscathed now, the tigers would have their undeniable fill. Kerry felt things spiralling out of control fast now; things were getting completely out of her hands. Her body was beginning to climax and that would tie the two of them together, even as much strangers as they were, as intimate, as whole as they were together and as incomplete they were apart, it would bind them forever to each other if Katie achieved her sole goal, her one over expressive purpose. Kerry reached up again but Katie's reluctant hand went with it too and Kerry wondered if Katie was going to prevent her again, to welsh on their deal in view of the impending event. Katie's face was smiling now as her hips moved against Kerry's moving perfectly timed, her eyes were alight and Kerry suddenly had an image of the famous black and white symbol that her uncle liked. They were like that, or they would be when the climax happened. She would climax, and through transferred enjoyment between them, Katie would come, in a vicious though not infinite circle. But Kerry knew that she was fast on track to an earth shattering personal event, and Katie knew that. Kerry's fingers again brushed the side of the camera, but she couldn't grip it. She tried to find the strength to move, but suddenly everything was too heavy. Katie's tongue licked out, again touching Kerry's mouth, she didn't venture inside, Kerry's mouth was running a perfect stream of silent O's now, beyond her control to dampen. Her eyes were facing inwards, on her own greatly kindling passion for this girl, and the light was shining on the plight for the camera. Katie's tongue licked all around the inside of Kerry's lips, her greed evident, but Kerry felt her leaning more and catching hold of that camera that Kerry couldn't quite reach. Kerry watched as Katie's eyes, blinked slowly, seductively and for the first time Kerry understood the power of that gesture that she had used so many times in her allurements. It was so cruel and yet, so strangely attractive. Perhaps it was just the situation that had a certain well-meaning cruelty in it. Katie sat up, her legs moving astraddle Kerry as she continued to pump, the camera in her hands. She looked down at Kerry, her eyes not cruel, but savagely kind. Then, as she continued to pump, she held out the camera. Katie didn't protest in any way as Kerry took the instrument. She knew she didn't need to point it, and she clicked the top button three quick times, knowing that this would release the rites in action on Katie. The effect was sudden and immediate. Katie's whole body paused, as her eyes rolled up, completely unconscious. She slumped back, her ass sitting down on Kerry's legs, Kerry felt that appendage pulled smartly back out of her body, back through Katie and back into inexistence. Kerry's head lolled and then she fell forwards, crashing over like a falling tower. Katie's shoulders landed heavily on Kerry's chest, driving the wind out of her and her head smacked into Kerry's shoulder, but Kerry knew that Katie felt none of it. With inertia, Katie's body rolled left, her arms checking her roll by their bulk alone, there was no thought of movement in Katie now. In Kerry's hands the camera suddenly broke apart, Kerry looked at it and saw that it was dissolving in the air. She felt a mounting panic and horror that reached only as far as her mind as her body still inwardly writhed heedlessly, broken off before time, but the camera, the bits that were left was breaking up into the air, breaking off the clumps that were left like fading dust. Then it was gone completely and Kerry became suddenly aware that it was too late, for either of them now as she lost her inwards battle. Her resolve was long dead now, her resistance slaughtered by the soldiers of passion, and even as headless as those tigers now were, their last final act was driving Kerry beyond a point in her own mind. Kerry felt fear, and nervousness, she experienced in a rolling second a huge spectrum of conflicting anarchic emotions tugging, pulling and jerking at each other as she turned quietly onto her side, tears coming with natural swiftness following the turmoil into her heart. Her legs came up on their own, the knees together, curling and foetal. Katie's left hand was the only part of her that was still touching Kerry, placed in random chance on it's wrist, sitting undemandingly on a point just above Kerry's chest. It was completely asleep, as deep as the rest of Katie, but all the same, it was enough as Kerry quietly, internally forged the bond that she had been dreading so very much. It came not with dread, though. It did not come marching like an invading army, crashing down the gates of a famous city. It came in a spirit of pleasant and unforeseeable friendship, forging a quiet, substantial love between them that Kerry found that she was completely and surprisingly happy with. There was warmth on her leg, though not much as the feelings began to fade. But the tears kept coming, this time though they expressed a strange and imperfect joy. A completely human and forgiving emotion. Then, Katie was moving behind her, the hand that had stayed with her, guiding even though unaware, moved down over her stomach, and there was uncertainty in that hands movements. It hung there, not demanding, but knowing the intimacy shared permitted it's actions. Kerry felt a wet cheek against her back. "Thank you," Katie said, her voice a perfect imitation still. "Thanks for letting me go." Kerry didn't speak; there were no words to say. Explanations were inappropriate, she realised that. "I still love you," Katie said. "Only I don't feel the same. I feel normal about it." Kerry heard a quaver in Katie's voice. "Kerry?" Kerry broached her silence. "Yes?" she whispered, more a breath than a word. "Can you take me with you?" Katie asked. "To America..." It would be tricky. Kerry realised that, but her cousin knew a little about fake ids, and he even had a little business or two. He'd know what they'd need. She'd just say she wanted them under a different first name to confuse any interlopers. If she asked, then Anna would provide. She was a thorough kid. "Yeah," Kerry breathed. "Yeah."