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MONSTER, MAIDENS and TRANSFORMATIONS (a Gothic Story) By Geneva Berthold, a young Bavarian businessman, meets a pretty young woman called Ursula in a tavern. As part of their pillow talk she tells him a fantastic story that has a surprising connection. Note. This has one story (a rather long one) set in another story. To show speech in the character Ursula's narration, I could have used multiple quotation marks but, as this would get complicated and perhaps confusing, I have opted to separate the two stories by dotted, ie. ...... lines. START The place is somewhere in Bavaria and sometime in the 1700's. It had been a long day. I had started out from home at first light in a fine drizzle, ridden until noon and after an all too short break at a tavern had dragged myself out for another four weary hours in the saddle. When the light started to go and the muddy path became more difficult I decided it was time to find an inn. With the continual light rain and the darkness and the chill the thought of a hearty meat pie filling me and washed down with a foaming beer or two became more appealing. Stretching out in front of a blazing fire ending with a soft bed for the night would be a welcome final touch. With these in mind I was glad to find a little inn at the next village. I was skeptical of its appearance at first but it turned out to have all I had been looking forward to and, after seeing that my horse was settled into a nearby, dry, warm stable, watered and fed, I made my way into the main area of the inn. It was not too busy, cozily warm, the innkeeper was jovial, the food was tasty and filling and the beer was good and I soon began to feel very content, even benign, able to forget, or at least put into the back of my mind, the next day's travel. I was a salt merchant on my way from Regensburg to a small town near the Bohemian area to see if I could arrange some trade. "Any more to eat? Or another beer, sir? Your tankard looks as if it is empty," I heard. I looked up to see a young woman in a traditional dirndl style dress beaming at me. "Why yes!" She gave me a broad smile, showing white even teeth in appealing deep pink lips. As she moved over to the tap to pour me a beer I had a chance to look at her more closely. She was a fairly tall girl, with striking reddish blonde hair done up into loose pigtails which were pinned above her head with red ribbon decorations. She was an appealing sight, with her narrow waist and the tight bodice of her dirndl dress pushing up and emphasizing her bust. Over the front of her dress she wore a white apron embroidered with flowers.As she leaned over to another customer the hem of her skirt raised and I saw pretty calves and ankles in her white stockings. In a minute she was back at my table and when she bent over to place my beer before me I was treated to the appealing sight of two full breasts separated by a delightful cleavage right in front of me. A little pendant on a gold chain hung from her neck and, as she straightened up, it trickled over a breast and back down into that delightful cleavage. I thought it would be pleasant to go exploring to retrieve it. "You are travelling, sir?" Her voice was pleasant and warm. I shook my head to clear it from some immoral thoughts. "Yes, I'm on business. I'm a merchant in Regensburg and I want to check out some businesses that I can trade with. They're in a town near Bohemia." "Can I join you, sir?" To my surprise she poured herself a small beer and sat herself down across the table from me. I was a bit taken aback by her forwardness but when I looked round no one appeared to be paying us much attention. The inn was not too busy and it looked as if the other customers were still well supplied with food and drink. The innkeeper did not seem to be too concerned with her sitting by me either, or my getting a monopoly of such a pretty young woman. It was delightful to have such amenable companionship. She was easy to talk to and as the evening wore on her remarks took more of a flirty character and even when I cautiously made a few suggestive comments of my own she did not seem offended and simply beamed happily at me. To cut a long story short, I found myself more and more enamored with the young woman and we soon got deep into a fairly intimate conversation. In fact, by little things, her touches on my hands, and her bending ever closer to me, giving me views of the pale smooth skin of her heaving breasts, I knew she was leading me on. I did not mind. I was young, with a good looking appearance, I think, and I was not married. My spirits got quite a boost, having such an attractive young woman give me her full attention. Yet, as the evening wore on, the thought of the next day's travel began to intrude more and more urgently on my mind and I finally stood up. "I'm sorry, Fraulein, I've a long journey tomorrow again. I think I must get to bed." I gave her a regretful then suggestive glance but she simply bowed her head slightly. "Then sleep well, sir!" I was a bit disappointed when she did not follow me. Maybe I had overemphasized my tiredness. Oh well, I thought, the evening had been pleasant enough, even though the end had been disappointing. In my room I stretched and looked at the inviting bed. I had my shirt off and was about to unfasten my breeches when there was a gentle knock at my door. When I opened it the girl slid in. She had let her hair down and it hung over her shoulders. She had removed her apron. We were in each other's arms immediately and her lovely soft lips found mine. While she rubbed her hands up and down my bare chest I began to unfasten her dirndl outfit. She wriggled to shuck it off her shoulders and let it fall to the floor then her hands were at my breeches, unfastening them and letting them slide to the floor too. "Undo me, " she purred and my fumbling hands unbuttoned her blouse, freeing her firm breasts. Our stockings were the last to go and we tumbled naked into bed together. The sheets were chill with the late autumn weather but she was warm and I was too so I barely noticed. I was suddenly embarrassed. Here I was spending the night with this gorgeous young woman and I had not even asked her name. "Oh, I am called Berthold." "And I am called Ursula." She pulled me to her. I was a not inexperienced lover and when I kissed her lips, and caressed down her slim waist and her beautifully curved hips and rear then dutifully kissed and sucked her firm nipples she wriggled and moaned appreciatively. By this time my erection was almost painfully hard and she must have noticed as she took my penis in her hands and stroked it. When she gently pulled down the skin from the head, I thought I would explode. She kissed me again on the mouth, then slowly licked and nuzzled slowly all the way down, kissing my chest, nibbling slightly at my nipples and belly, then took me in her mouth. I wondered if she was ready but when I put out my hand to her moist groin to spread her legs she suddenly sat up, turned and straddled me, with her musky scented groin at my own lips and her mouth moving on me. I was engulfed by her warmth and it took only a minute or so before I felt my climax build. I wondered if I should try to move from her and make love to her in the conventional way but she sat down even more firmly on me and used her mouth and hands even more vigorously. Giving in to the exquisite pleasure I allowed myself to peak and violently released into her. I think she must have sucked every last drop and at last she released me with a gasp and lay back beside me. I took me a minute before I could speak. "Ursula, I..." I began, but the girl put a finger to my lips. "Sshh! You needn't say anything. That was wonderful. Now let us just lie here quietly for a minute or so until you recover." She was warm and soft and a little while later I snuggled into her neck. She did not resist and soon my lips found hers and I fondled those wonderful breasts again. Once more I pushed my hand between her thighs. "Now it is my turn to make you happy." I slightly tickled and stroked in the springy hair at her groin, and moved a finger into her soft lips, parting them. They were moist and expectant. I began caressing her and I knew she was ready again. Her hand found my swollen penis. She pulled me over her and guided me to her. I felt a slight pressure, then she gave a small squeal and I was in her. She moved slightly under me and raised her legs to allow me better access. Her hands rubbed up and down my back. As I slowly began to move inside her, her hands pulled me even closer. Soon, as I moved back and forward I felt a growing tension. She writhed and squirmed to allow me further into her. She was giving strange little cries, her head, with its glorious golden-red hair, tossing from side to side, even hanging over the edge of the bed. She was in ecstasy. I wanted to make the sensations last. She gave a start and opened her eyes. I had stopped. What's the matter?" she asked. "Nothing!" I grinned. "I just want to make it last a bit longer." I leaned over her again and kissed her. She clasped her legs behind my back and pulled me to her. "No need1 Hurry up! Take me! I am ready!" I began to rock back and forward, giving her deeper and deeper thrusts. She pushed her hips up to me and I exploded. "Mmmm," she said later. "That was nice. You are a wonderful lover but..... I already had what I wanted." "How do you mean?" I asked. I was thinking that her sparkling personality, her beauty and her technique were all that a man could want in a woman. She gave me another deep kiss. "I like you, sir, so I am going to tell you a little story. Or, maybe not so little. Do you want to hear it?" I was feeling lazy and satisfied. "Why yes!" "Well this story concerns a young man called Dieter, Dieter Koenig, who worked for a noble man, a nobleman, a Graf, a little bit south of here. Dieter was a servant, but he had shown a flare for investigation. "You see, the Graf had found a problem in some of his lands and called in the young investigator to his working chamber. ............... The Graf was even quite cordial when Dieter appeared at his door. "Please come in, Herr Koenig," he invited. Still, Dieter was nervous and had just a bit of fluttering in his stomach. His cloak had been soaked by with the blowing rain outside and he was glad he had thought to hang it up in the antechamber. With dismay he saw water trickle from his boots onto the polished wooden floor but he did as he was told. He noticed that the Graf was alone, unusual, as usually one or other of his flunkeys was around keep notes. The Graf had even said 'please', a bit different to the usual sharp commands he used for servants and underlings such as Dieter. "Please have a seat." The Graf gestured to the chair immediately in front of him and Dieter sat down, slightly hesitatingly. He was intrigued that he was not being made to stand at attention and he was even going to be allowed to sit! He felt his apprehension fade away as it did not look as if he was going to get a reprimand on something he might have done. Was a commendation in store for him? However, he resisted a temptation to cross his legs and instead sat bolt upright in the chair, with his hands clasped in front of him holding his hat and looking at the Graf expectantly, not too directly though, just in a way that would show the appropriate deference to a superior. This was the first time that Dieter had actually spoken directly to the Graf von Holzig and he was slightly awed at the event. Still, if he was not to be censured or scolded for something that was very good! After all, he had worked hard to be an effective and determined servant in the Graf's service and it was right that his talents should be recognized. Some years previously he had started as an ordinary servant in the Graf's palace, but earlier in the year there had been a string of robberies and on his own initiative he had concluded a successful investigation that resulted in a group of ruffians being apprehended and brought to trial. His talent had been noticed and he had been assigned even more investigative work which had been concluded well too. So now he was hoping he had drawn the attention of Von Holzig himself. His talents and diligence had been finally noticed! At first Von Holzig even made a few observations about the weather, as if he was unsure as to how to proceed but soon got down to business. He looked at Dieter over his reading glasses. "Herr Koenig, I am very impressed with your work. You have shown quite an aptitude for various investigations and it is beginning to look as if you have a bright future ahead for you in my service." He hesitated a bit while a loud noise of horses' hooves came through the open window. "With a little more experience, who knows? You might advance in my service." That sounded better and better to Dieter. If it was another investigation that he successfully concluded, then what? He was ambitious. Working for the Graf was all very fine, but perhaps he could do better. Perhaps he could get out of this little provincial backwater to some larger city and take up service with a duke or prince, what then! "That brings me to why I have asked you here today. I have a little problem that I would like you to have look at. I need a determined, clever investigator." Dieter put the right amount of studied eagerness into his poise. "Yes, excellency?" "We have been having reports that there is something strange going on in one of the villages in my lands, just a bit north of here. Now, Herr Koenig, what I say must travel no further than you. I need your absolute discretion. You will speak of this to no one. "It's all rather distressing. You see, there are rumors of a cult of witchcraft or something like it in a village several day's journey from here up in a mountainous area at the northern part of my lands. The area is also fairly rural and being fairly isolated has been slow to get some of the modern influences and benefits. To be honest, I believe it is rather backward. Yes, witchcraft!" Dieter sat even more upright, trying to keep the skepticism from his face. Witchcraft? In the eighteenth century? "Yes, I can see you are incredulous, and I am skeptical too, but one of my earlier investigators sent a report about it some months back. He also said that the residents appeared very reticent to talk to him, even suspicious." The Graf's face took a pained expression. "I did not believe him and even sent him a reprimand but we later had more reports from him insisting that what he said earlier was true." Dieter thought he should show how eager he was. "What does he say now?" "Well, that's a problem. He's now disappeared, or at least he's not sent any reports over the last months. He was in lodgings, we know where, but the owner of his lodging house said that he did not come back one night, and since then has not been seen. I suppose it's possible he may have taken employment elsewhere. It is not so unusual for our people to quit, but usually they give notice." The Graf tapped his fingers impatiently on his desk. "So, Herr Koenig, one of my investigators has disappeared! I need to find out what has happened. I would like you to travel to that village and do some investigation. I think it would be best too, so that you may be able to get more information, if you were in some kind of disguise and, as far as anyone knew, you would be just an ordinary citizen, not in my service." Dieter thought briefly. It sounded intriguing and slightly dangerous. Yet, if he were successful at uncovering the mystery, it would be a feather in his cap. He quickly decided. "I would like to do it, excellency, but I will need some cover story too. If I arrive in a small town I will be noticed and people will wonder what I am doing there." The Graf leaned back in his chair and studied him. "I'd thought of that. You'll need the freedom and an excuse to move around and observe. I've been making enquiries about you and I've heard that you like painting. I wonder, could you say that you are an artist? People will be interested too in what you are doing, so that way you can get them to talk to you. "The taverns too will be a way to speak to the inhabitants in a casual way. Attending services at some church is another way. You might also offer to paint some of the local dignitaries. Flatter them and you will get their favour." "Sir, I am, I think, a good enough painter of landscapes, but I'm afraid that portrait painting is a skill I've not acquired." Dieter laughed. "Unless I could say I am an trying a new style. That way I need not have exact likenesses." The Graf did not seem impressed by his flippancy so Dieter quickly put on his most serious face again. "Very well," the Graf said. "Then you should make preparations. The sooner this is attended to the better. I have already discussed this with our supervisor, Herr Schuster, and he has been authorized to help you prepare." Dieter was glad the Graf had already spoken Schuster. Schuster was his immediate supervisor and he had always been a bit overbearing and brusque with him. Dieter had even detected more than a trace of resentment at his past successes. They had shown Schuster's own laziness and ineptitude up. Dieter arrived in the village a week later, taking most of the journey by coach and then the last day by an uncomfortable horse drawn cart over rutted roads. His immediate impression was that the village was a pretty enough place but its appearance was not helped by the looming mountains that cut off much of the sun, and the dark surrounding woods. With him he had brought a large case with his spare clothes, and also a smaller one with his painting supplies and a cleverly made folding easel. It also had a small hidden compartment that held a pistol and a knife. First on his list was to find accommodation, and he found the small boarding house that the vanished investigator had used. For a reasonable price it would supply him three meals each day, and just along the street was a tavern. The owner of the boarding house was a widow, Frau Magda Hartmann. She was about forty, with two daughters who were introduced as Ilse and Ruth. Ilse looked about sixteen and Ruth two years younger. Frau Hartmann was glad enough to take his money but he detected just a shade of reticence in her manner. He spent most of the first afternoon unpacking his gear. The older girl, Ilse, was soon hanging at his door, watching him unpack. She was especially intrigued with his painting supplies and equipment so he took some time with her, explaining the technique, and showing her the colours of the paints, the better to give credence to his story. When he was finished, he strolled down the cobbled main street, giving polite nods to some villagers who openly stared at him. Finally, after supper at the pension, he made his way to the tavern that he had noticed earlier and ordered a beer. The conversation in the tavern became suddenly quiet and he knew that several pairs of eyes were on him. "Yes, sir, a stein you say? Right away!" the landlord of the tavern scrutinized him when he ordered. "You're new in town, sir? Haven't seen you here before." "Yes, I am. I'll be here a few weeks. You see, I'm a painter and I've heard of your charming little town so I want to paint some scenes. I've taken a room with Frau Hartmann while I am here." That seemed to break the ice and it did not take long before Dieter got talking with some of the locals. They seemed to lose a little of their suspicious manner and even warm to him when he complimented them on the town and its mountainous surroundings. They even suggested some streets and views that could make suitable subjects. The next day, after getting directions from Frau Hartmannn, he ambled right around the village to get a feel of the place, keeping his eyes open. It was a rural area and the village was surrounded with many small farms. The village was set on the banks of a substantial river. He noticed its waters were a milky blue, from a glacier up in the mountains, he supposed. In fact, it seemed like an ordinary little village, its inhabitants going about their business, just as in other towns. It was obvious that the village was dependent on the nearby farms as it had two smithies, two stables, carpenters, and some builders, as well as the usual vendors. He recognized that some of the street scenes too would make good subjects so, without too much pretense, he looked up and down these streets, as if he was trying to select the best views. The next day was a Saturday and the village market was in operation. To expose himself again he wandered up and down the stalls, not buying much, but giving polite greetings with the traders who mumbled back in return. He was aware of many eyes watching him. The day after that, being Sunday, he selected a local church, and he was warmly welcomed by the priest. If anyone were engaged in witchcraft they would be unlikely to be churchgoers, but it was important to establish that he was an ordinary citizen and it would be helpful to get to know more locals. Possibly too the priest might have his own suspicions about witchcraft. The priest actually spoke to him and welcomed him to the village and church but made no comment about any problems. Monday turned out to be a pleasant day so, armed with his painting supplies and a small folding chair, he made his way to a street where the view looked good, Moreover, the street was relatively busy and he soon attracted the attention of passers-by, and a few urchins too who seemed intrigued with his work. They were a nuisance but, rather than shooing them off, he let them stay. He hoped they might have noticed anything strange or let some information slip but they made no comments. He had thought of making a charcoal sketch at first but he was so taken with play of the morning light and the shadows of the old buildings on the street that he decided to get right to a painting. He knew he would never make a living as an artist but he had been told he was reasonably competent and he had even sold a few little canvasses to richer burghers in his home town. After a few touches with the brush he had the general shape of how he wanted the painting to look and he had been about to start adding more detail when he was interrupted. "So, hard at work already, eh, Herr Koenig?" he heard, and turned round to see the priest. "Good morning, Father! Yes, we painters don't earn much so I can't waste time!" "How long will you be in our fair town?" the priest asked. "Oh, some weeks, I think." "Tell me, Herr Koenig, how do you find people here?" To tell the truth, Dieter thought the inhabitants all seemed a bit cool and suspicious but he wanted to establish good relations with them. " I think they are a bit taken aback with a painter in their midst, but it is a pretty town." "Just remember that this is an isolated area so many of them are unsure of strangers. Perhaps you should finish your business quickly." He chatted with the priest for a few more minutes, trying to find the reason behind the enigmatic comment but the priest suddenly gave him a small bow and left. It was also time to finish. The light had changed and, carefully protecting the wet paint, he made his way back to Frau Hartmann's house. That afternoon he walked along another street in the town, again casually looking at the vendors and the activities in the street, but also watching for any unusual activity. The street led from the market place up to a hill to a castle right at the top. He squinted at it, realizing that it would be a good view too for painting. It was getting hot and, feeling thirsty, he thought a beer would be welcome and soon spied a tavern across the street. He noticed the sign outside, 'The Ogre's' Haunt', it said, and he took a minute to scrutinize it. It depicted an ugly humanoid beast with its large hands round a terrified looking maiden dressed only in very skimpy clothing. He crossed the street, sat down in a seat outside the tavern and ordered a beet when tavern owner came out. "You're new in the village, are you, sir?" the man asked, and Dieter gave him the excuse about being an artist. "It's a pretty view up to that castle there, in the distance," he added. "Yes, we get lots of comments on the beauty of this place." Dieter pointed to the castle. "Who owns it?" "It was once the property of the Graf von Rundel, the last of an old family in the area, but he died a some years ago without any heirs, or at least any that wanted to live there so it was bought by a businessman, originally an Austrian merchant actually, called Joachim Weber. He's a commoner, but I think he fancied himself as some aspiring nobility." The proprietor laughed. "But he's spent quite a bit of money on refurbishing it too so that gave a lot of work to the local workmen. It always needs supplies too, so that's good for business. I supply them with a barrel of beer or wine every so often." "Does the castle have a name? It should, for the wonderful view and setting it has." "Well, the official name for it is the Schloss Rundel, after the family, but most locals call it the Ogres's Height. "Ogre? Your tavern has an ogre name too. Is it connected?" he asked. .............. I was getting a little impatient and I yawned. "Ursula, can I ask too? You are a wonderful story teller, but what does all this have to do with what you wanted to tell me?" The girl gave small giggle and stroked me intimately. "Have patience! Let me get back to my story." ............... The tavern keeper laughed at the question, although Dieter thought it sounded just a little forced. "Well, sir, there's an old legend here that an ogre used to live up on the mountain there. I'm sure you've heard this kind of story many times but this ogre used to terrorize the village, it was much smaller then, and then a knight came and challenged him. But, unlike other legends, the ogre won and killed the knight! So eventually, they say, the villagers made a deal with the ogre that if they gave him a virgin every year, he would no longer terrorize the town." The man laughed. "I suppose the town would make sure they had a good supply of virgins." Then he looked at Dieter. "Of course, that's all in the past. I can't recall any of the local maidens going off recently." He gave another hearty laugh. "But the village still puts on a procession about it. In fact it's next weekend. It attracts a lot of visitors from the surrounding farms. If you like to paint crowd scenes, you might get an idea or two." The rest of that week Dieter kept up his investigation with careful enquiries. On the Friday a well-dressed man came to stand by him as he painted and peered at the painting. "You like our little town, Herr Koenig? Oh, I forget my manners, I am Gerhard Dortmunder. I'm the mayor here." He stood back and squinted at the painting. "I wish I had your talent, Herr Koenig." This man seemed much friendlier than anyone Dieter had yet met in this town. "Glad to meet you, Mayor Dortmunder, but please, call me Dieter." They shook hands. "Well, I'm not sure about talent but I keep trying." "And you should call me Gerhard. "So, Dieter, how do you find our little town?" "I wish I had discovered it before. It is a very charming little place." "How did you find out about us?" Dieter thought it would be better to lie. "I forget who!" He pretended to rack his brain. "I'm sorry, maybe it was in a tavern. Or possibly it was another artist back home." "Where is home, Dieter?" Dieter gave the name of the small town he had been brought up in. "Does your family not miss you when you are off on painting expeditions like this?" "Oh, I was an only child and my parents have both died." "Oh, my condolences, Dieter!" The mayor may have expressed sympathy but Dieter had noticed a sudden gleam in his eye. He wondered why he was being questioned. Was the Mayor checking up upon him? "You've been told about the fair tomorrow? It has a procession too. It will show the legend of an ogre that terrorized the village." "Yes, the tavern keeper of the Ogre's Haunt told me about it. I'll make sure I see it. It's a strange thing to commemorate though?" "Yes, perhaps, but we make it fun and it's good for business and it develops a spirit in the villagers." The next day Dieter was finishing his breakfast when he saw villagers hurrying past and when he looked out it was obvious that there was already a sizeable crowd standing on the street. He gulped down the rest of his food and hurried to join them, and after some searching got a spot with a good view along the main street. Right at ten he heard the blare of trumpets and almost immediately saw some movement down the street. In fact it was a village band marching towards him and as it got nearer he heard a woman, dressed in what he assumed was the local traditional costume, say that it was a local group. "They're good, aren't they? she said proudly. The spectators obviously knew some of the bandsmen and Dieter noticed some players' eyes roll in acknowledgement when their names were called out from the crowd. This band marched by in great style, all clad in red costumes and with fancy hats all sporting feathers, with several players enthusiastically blowing on large horns. But he was taken aback by the next part. Contrasting with the finery of the bandsmen, it was a simple cart, drawn by two oxen and guided by two men in costumes of centuries past. But on the cart were two upright posts with a horizontal beam with a wooden cage dangling from it. In the cage was a young woman clad in a simple shift that exposed her bare shoulders. Her long blonde hair was free and hung about her shoulders. The hubbub of the crowd died away down, as if they were awed by the spectacle. Dieter thought the girl did a good job of her acting her acting and she actually appeared to be pushing her shoulders against the bars of the cage. An iron collar on her neck was chained to the top of the cage and her hands were tied behind her with rough rope. Even her feet were tied, which he thought was a bit unnecessary. With a shock he recognized Ilse, his landlady's daughter. She was screaming loudly, but theatrically. For a few seconds she caught his eyes and gave him a penetrating stare, then she was past. Then he had to suppress a gasp. Right behind the cart strode a large figure. It was masked, with a hideous face, that looked like a mixture of human, tiger and bear features and it swung an enormous club and bellowed at the crowd who all shrunk back. Dieter was not sure if their dismay was real or pretended. The ogre even swung its club at him and he felt the rush of air. His attention went back to the girl. She was very pretty and her apparent helplessness stirred something in him. Then they were past, followed by villagers carrying more banners and flags and a carriage with what appeared to be the mayor and some local dignitaries. Next, to more cheers and applause, another local band marched by. With some more flag waving villagers the parade was over and the crowd began disperse or to follow the procession. As he was walking back to the boarding house he heard a voice behind him. "So how did you like it, Dieter?" He turned to see the mayor. "Very realistic, mayor. I saw you on the cart. Were you with your village elders? Anyway, it was a good show. So how far did the procession go?" "Oh, just a bit towards the castle there then they all disbanded. And after that they all usually head to the tavern. It's thirsty work! I'm on my way there too. I saw you looking at the girl." "Yes, she seemed suitably helpless!" He grinned. "I see it was Frau Hartmann's older daughter. She's a good actress. But she seemed to be awfully well fastened!" "Yes, probably a bit unnecessary, but that kind of cage and the bonds were used historically. You've heard of the legend?" "Only that the ogre needed a virgin very so often to placate it." "Yes, but as you can imagine, there was a lot of unwillingness on any virgin's part to take part! So they used to herd all of the village maidens together and draw lots to see who would be the sacrifice. The girl would resist, understandably, so the legend is that the unfortunate one was put in a cage just as you have seen." "A bit gruesome!" "Yes, evidently the villagers thought it better to sacrifice one girl for the good of all." Dieter snorted. "I think they needed more knights, better ones, to slay the ogre!" The mayor pursed his lips, then looked up. "Oh look, Dieter, here is someone you should meet!" He turned to greet a man coming towards them. The man was large, both tall and portly. "Herr Weber!" called the mayor. "Here is someone you should meet. This is Dieter Koenig," he said and made the introductions. " He is an artist and has been sketching in our fair town for a week now." They all shook hands, Weber even tipping his hat, giving Dieter a slight bow and clicking his heels. Weber leaned back as if to scrutinize Dieter with his pale blue eyes. "An artist? So at last this beautiful village has attracted artistic attention. I'm pleased to meet you. I had actually heard that you were here and I am glad to finally meet you. Look, Herr Koenig, You are an artist, I believe? You should come up to the castle. Possibly parts of it are worthy of your painter's brush and the view over the countryside is remarkable." He gave a hearty laugh. " I used to dabble in painting myself, but I rapidly learned that I had little talent, so I put my efforts into a manufacturing business. Fortunately! I am a better businessman than an artist." Weber spoke with a distinctive Austrian accent. "I am sure it pays better," Dieter remarked politely. "I am only one step above a struggling artist." Weber roared with laughter and clapped him on the back. "I tell you, if suitable, why not visit me tomorrow. I shall expect you for dinner. I will feed you well. At six? Herr Mayor? You are invited too, with your good wife. We will have a wonderful evening." He doffed his hat, bowed slightly again and left them. "Look, Dieter," said the mayor, "It is a fair distance to walk up to the castle so I will be taking a carriage. My wife will certainly not want to walk up there if she is dressed in her finery. So, shall I pick you up tomorrow? Our carriage will have plenty of room." "You are very kind, Herr Mayor." When Dieter mentioned the invitation to Magda Hartmann she nodded slightly and pursed her lips. He got the impression that she was slightly concerned but when he looked at her, her expression changed and she nodded. "Then that will be an experience, Herr Koenig." "I saw that your daughter had a prominent part in the parade today." She nodded gravely. "Yes, the parade reminds us of an important part of this village's heritage." "Ogres," Dieter laughed. "So these days are long past. But it looked as if your daughter ..... well, There was a concerned look on her face. Is she all right?" He noticed that the woman didn't join him in his laughter. She just nodded gravely. "Look, Herr Koenig, just be careful!" "How do you mean?" he asked but she just shrugged and said nothing. The next day Dieter scrutinized his clothing, just a little ruefully. He had pulled his best clothes from his case but they were showing signs of wear. Still, he brushed it down and polished his best boots to a bright shine. They would just have to do. When the carriage rolled up to the lodging Dieter was ready. The coachman hopped down and opened the carriage door for him to get in and before he sat down the mayor introduced him to his wife. Dieter was a bit taken aback, but impressed. Frau Dortmunder was a very beautiful woman. She was veiled, but underneath the fine black net over her face he saw sparkling blue eyes and a pretty face. Her shining blonde hair was barely hidden by her fashionable hat and several wisps hung tantalizing down her neck. Her figure was slim too. She was wearing a dark blue silk gown with black polished womens' boots peeking out under the hem. They looked like looked like fine expensive leather. "I have heard that we had an artist in our village and I am glad to meet you, Herr Koenig." Her voice was low and husky. She held out her finely gloved hand to him. "Please call me Dieter," he said. Feeling gallant he lightly kissed the back of her hand. "And you should call me Bernardette," The ride from the village was not too long and the carriage soon passed through the castle's ornamental gate. Contrasting with the old stonework a new piece of stone had been set in it, carved with what looked like a coat-of-arms. The mayor saw Dieter's interest. "It's Herr Weber's doing. He says it is his family coat-of arms. I believe his name was originally Von Weber, but why he dropped the 'Von' part is curious." The driver stopped the carriage in the courtyard then assisted Dieter, then the mayor, down and the mayor himself helped his wife. Dieter looked round. The courtyard had a wall, with a door leading to the outside. Facing the main gate was the main door to the castle, and small buildings were set to one side. Stables, Dieter thought, seeing some loose hay lying outside one. He took another opportunity to look at the mayor's wife. She was medium height and looked even slimmer than she had in the carriage. Her very indented waist made it obvious that she was tightly corseted, although by her slimness it looked as if she hardly needed a corset. Still, that was the current fashion in the cities. Maybe Frau Dortmunder wanted to be fashionable, he supposed. She placed her hand in a crook of the mayor's arm and began to move to the large door of the castle. She walked gracefully upright, her long skirts just skimming the paved courtyard but Dieter was taken aback that to see that she limped slightly. Weber was waiting outside the main door for them. Once again he bowed and they all shook hands. "So, welcome to my home, Herr Koenig. You are new to this area, I hear? So perhaps you would be interested in a short tour of my dwelling? I bought it some years ago and I can say with some pride that I have renovated it to its former glory. It was an enormous task, but now it is a gracious building again." "Why yes, if it is not too much trouble. " "You will excuse my wife and me. We have seen it before," said the mayor. "Besides, my wife has a slight trouble with stairs. You will have noticed she has a slight limp?" "Yes, I did. Is it an old injury?" "In a way. It happened a few years ago. But look, our host is waiting for you." "No hurry, Herr Mayor!" laughed Weber. "Enjoy yourself with some wine. I have pulled out some select bottles from my cellar." Dieter had no way of telling how the castle had looked previously, but now the structure looked very impressive. Weber's comment on its restoration was understated. It must have been returned to its original glory and then much more. The walls in the main hall were all light colored stone, but hung with bright tapestries, flags and even a few suits of armor displayed on stands. Other areas were plastered and painted with historical scenes of pageants, battles and processions. When they progressed to the library Dieter was overwhelmed. He gasped. "So many books! You have more than many libraries!" All the walls were fitted with shelves and all were crammed with books. Weber beamed benevolently. "It is a little hobby of mine. I like the feel and smell of old books and, you never know, they may contain many gems of information that have been discarded or forgotten or hidden away. Go and look at some of them!" When his host gestured expansively to the stacks Dieter went to an older looking section and carefully removed a book. It was an old bible with beautifully ornamented pages. Reverently he put it back then selected another and yet another. All were beautiful works of art. He was very impressed and shook his head in awe. "This is quite a collection, Herr Weber, some obviously quite old, some more modern, but they are all in excellent conditions. You look after them very carefully!" "Yes, and I think I exhausted all of the antique bookshops in Bavaria, Bohemia and further. Even some old monasteries were pleased to sell books to me. But then, books are my passion, especially old books. I have wide interests." Dieter let his eyes scan the shelves then pointed. "Up there! That's unusual. It's not nearly as good condition as the rest. Much smaller too." He had noticed a small book at the end of a high shelf. Weber grinned and shrugged. "That old thing? It came with a consignment of books from a monastery in Hungary. It only has scribbles in it. Some time I will try to decipher them. But, I am sure you have seen enough of old books. Let me show you the rest of the castle." Dieter got the impression that he was being hurried on from the library, graciously, but still hurried. But Dieter had spotted something as Weber hurried on. It was a button with the Graf's crest on it. Dieter did not say anything and put it in his pocket. He hurried to catch Weber up. They passed by a stair, leading downwards. He looked at it expectantly but Weber shook his head. "Oh, that's just the cellar. I have my wine vaults down there but there is nothing much else. I may show you them some day but the evening goes on and I am getting hungry. I am sure you are too!" He pulled out a large watch from a pocket in his coat and peered at it. "We must be getting on. I have better things to show you." Weber had begun wheezing. "Excuse me, Dieter," he said. I begin to have trouble with stairs." He led Dieter up a grand staircase and into several chambers, all beautifully and expensively outfitted. He noticed a smaller staircase and pointed. "Oh, that's just for the use of the servants. That way they can get about their work without getting in the way of any guests I have. " Dieter had noticed the polished marble floor had strange patterns. "What are these?" He pointed. "Oh, I've always been interested in astrology and other thing like it. It amused me to have the floor done that way. A lot are astrological signs. Some are symbols used in ancient religions." Dieter was getting a little tired of Weber's showing off but he made the appropriate expressions of wonder while Weber beamed happily then took his arm and led him back to a dining room off the main hall. The mayor and his wife were waiting and a servant, a large heavy woman, was pouring some wine into their glasses. There was a good smell of some roast meat in the air. Dieter accepted some proffered wine and tentatively sipped a little. Its flavor matched its rich bouquet. He savored it. As a servant he had been given little chance to get acquainted with fine wines but it seemed that it was excellent quality so, as Weber looked at him expectantly, he had to respond. "I congratulate you, Herr Weber, that is an excellent wine." Weber beamed. "I pride myself that I can choose wines well. I should show you my large cellars sometime too, but not tonight. I am sure you are getting hungry. So, shall we begin?" He pointed to the large table and they all sat down. Dieter saw another sign that Weber was obviously quite wealthy. All dishes and implements were of fine silver. All had an ornate 'W' engraved in them. The meal was excellent too and the conversation went well. Weber evidently enjoyed his food, judging by the amount he ate, Dieter thought. At one point the mayor brought the conversation to painting and Dieter's supposed profession. "I hope you are finding some artistic inspiration in our beautiful village and its surroundings. How much longer do you think you will be saying here?" "I've not decided. I thought a week originally but I keep seeing fresh aspects of the town and getting more inspiration. I should imagine now I'll spend a month or so more." Weber followed with more questions, all about artistic technique, how to execute paintings and choice of subject. Dieter almost got the impression that he was being examined. He was glad that painting had been more than just a passing fancy for him. Then, gradually, he began to feel a changed atmosphere in the room. His host, the mayor and his wife were very cordial, yet he began to wonder if the affability was being forced and that they were actually studying him. Occasionally he got the feeling they were almost prying into his personal life or even checking on his background. At last they were finished and after some excellent liqueurs the mayor, his wife and Dieter took their leave of Weber. Dieter had been expecting it when the mayor asked Dieter how he had enjoyed the visit when they were in the carriage and driving down the road from the castle. "He is obviously a very successful man and with a love of knowledge," he answered. Bernardette answered, "I believe he has several factories in Austria. They must be very successful to keep him in that lifestyle." Dieter did not mention that he had become suspicious of Weber. He had not seen the cellars, or dungeon, if there was one, but there had been just a trace of a certain smell in the air at that stair. Something he had smelled before on a previous investigation, something rotten, perhaps like old blood. Then there was the button with the Graf von Holzig's crest on it. Why was that in the castle? Dieter thought that the castle would deserve another visit, but at a time when he was alone. He waited another week, even sketching close to the castle, but in reality studying it to see how he could break into it. It would not be a good idea to use the main gate, of course, but he had noticed a small window just above a spur of the rock that the castle was built on. He hoped he could work his way round that piece of rock and get to the window, as it seemed that it might have some handholds. He got together what he needed from the hidden compartment in his painter's case, a very small lantern, a thin curved metal bar, a large knife and he changed into his darkest clothes. He looked at his pistol but decided against it. He waited until a moonlight night and, an hour after Frau Hartmann and her girls had gone to bed, he slipped out of the bedroom window, along the deserted streets and the path out of the village until he was close to the castle entrance. Its gates were closed but he was not interested in getting in that way and carefully climbed off the road, down a small gully and to the rock face. He had not been wrong. The rock had many cracks and crevices that gave him enough hand and footholds, so that in a few minutes he had reached the window. It was not shuttered and when he slipped his narrow metal bar between the window and the stone sill it opened a crack. Unfortunately it was old and stiff and he had to carefully lever it with the edge of his metal bar until it was wide enough for him to climb through. He was immediately taken with that foetid smell, now unpleasantly strong. He lit his lantern and looked around. He discovered he was in a large vaulted room. It looked as if it was only a storage room, judging by the boxes, barrels and various implements piled in it. He cautiously opened a door on the far side, and found himself in a corridor. Along at it end were stairs, leading up to the main hall, he supposed. The smell was even worse here, gaggingly unpleasant, something rotten and rancid. He checked in two other doors. One was unlocked and was just another storage room but the last door was locked. It was fitted with a small barred window but his lantern was not strong enough to cast enough light for him to see into it. He noticed a dark stain on the floor. He kneeled down and, rubbing at it, some came off on his fingers and he saw it was dark red, almost black like old blood. He had just got to his feet again when he felt a blow to the back of his head and the world went black. ................. "So how are you finding the story, now, Berthold? " asked the girl. She gave me another kiss and I felt myself stir. "I almost fell asleep at first, but now you have my attention. I am intrigued as to where it is going." "You think I am rather like Scheherazade?" she said mischievously. "Leading you on? Oh, maybe there is more to the story than I can cover tonight." "Anyhow, let me carry on and see how far I get." ................. Well, sometime later Dieter gradually began to reach some sort of consciousness, but aching all over and extremely weary and shivery, as if with a lingering fever. Any attempt to reach full consciousness was just too much effort. Forcing open the eyes failed. They were stuck shut. Dieter's scratchy dry throat felt needed a lot of coughing and saliva before it improved. Some more saliva, rubbed cautiously on the eyes with a finger helped and they were painfully forced open. For some reason the finger felt different narrower, finer, but it was too dim to see properly. The whereabouts were a mystery. It was almost completely dark and there was a foul smell in the air. Dieter's body's left side was lying on a cold stone floor, legs slightly bent up. Dieter rolled over, right hand straying between the legs. It began to sink in that something was different, being aware that the familiar bulges of penis and scrotum were missing, but the tiredness and daze were too strong for it to be a concern and the abyss opened up once more. It took a bit more time before awaking again, with the same gloom and foul smell. This time the ache had lessened a bit. With a gasp and then a groan escaping Dieter tried to get up, but it was still too much effort. A complete nakedness of the body suddenly surprised Dieter. A tentative hand went again to the crotch again and this time felt only a mound at the base of the belly, one set with a prominent vertical groove. It did not make sense, and with a growing unease a further exploration discovered only ridges of sensitive flesh and strangely, a moist opening edged with sensitive ridges of soft skin. Dieter recognized what these were. Dieter had encountered them before on a woman and this time felt the exploring fingers on the body. It made no sense. This was the body of a woman! It made no sense. She tried to get to her feet again. Her legs gave another spasm of pain but she persisted and managed to get onto her hands and knees. She was fuzzily aware of something pulling at her chest, like weights, and her hips felt awkward, heavier somehow. At another wave of fatigue she stretched out her limbs to flop back on the bed, this time aware of a strange feeling of pressure on her chest and she had to roll onto her back. This time, when she felt at her crotch she jerked upright as the total realization of what had happened finally soaked into her brain. She felt again to make sure she was not dreaming. There was no mistake. Dieter's familiar attachments were gone, replaced by a woman's. It was too dim to even see if what she felt was really there and not a hallucination. She loosed a cry of anguish. In growing panic she grabbed at her chest, afraid what she would find, then frantically pressing and testing the two female breasts pushing out from it. They were warm and soft and full and when she felt at their tips she felt prominent nipples. Now distraught, she gave a scream of terror and fright, shrill and high pitched, recognizing it was a woman's scream. She scrabbled at the breasts, trying to remove them, but the pain finally made her stop. She finally had to accept that they were now part of her. Her terror overcame the pain in her aching muscles, and she pushed to her feet and ran her hands all over herself. She discovered immediately that her waist had become slimmer and her hips broader. She tried to rise, finding by the weight on her ankle and a rattling sound that one ankle was attached to a chain. She jerked at it but the shackle hurt her ankle. She felt at it further and discovered its other end was set into a ring bolt sunk in the floor. The metal felt shiny and new. There was no way she could slip it. Confused, she sank down on the thin mattress she had been lying on, her head in her hands and tears of frustration and apprehension in her eyes. She was in a strange body and chained in a stinking dungeon, and she did not know where or why. ................ "That's awful! I cried. "Poor Dieter. To wake up in a woman's body. I cannot imagine that happening!' "Oh, I can," said Ursula. Her tone was suddenly subdued. She took my hand and kissed it and pressed it to her right breast. "You ready for more?" "You really think I could sleep now?" I listened as Ursula continued her story. .............. "Anyway, some time later this new woman was woken by a noise and looked up. A dim light was now showing and she saw she was in a small stone cell with a barred window in a metal studded door. She heard a key at the cell door and a corpulent figure carrying a lantern pushed the door in. It was a man, his face distorted by the light of a lantern. "So you are finally awake? I was wondering about you." Dieter saw that was Weber, with a look on his face that managed to combine malevolence and contempt. "Weber, what has happened? What has happened to me? Why am I here?' the new woman screamed, aware of her shrill woman's voice. He sneered at her. "Don't you remember? You'd broken into my dwelling. Oh yes, we were expecting you. It was a simple matter to knock you unconscious. So I captured you. You will have noticed too that we did something to you too. That's why you are now in a woman's body. Quite a pretty one too!" "Yes, what has happened? Why am I like this? What did you do?" "Oh, my dear young woman," he said condescendingly. "Oh yes, you are a woman, completely a woman. I used a special magic on you. You are pretty too and we shall have to think of a suitable woman's name for you. Maybe Monika." "I demand you change me back!" "No, Monika, This is how you will be until..... uh, the rest of your life. So, you are curious about you change? Well, I told you how I collected books. A lot of them contained alchemical formulae, even some black arts. They have been useful. Among the books I got from an old monastery in Hungary, there was an interesting little book. It was nothing much to look at compared to the others, but anyway, it had intriguing contents. Maybe it was the most valuable of all of my books. "See, it's this little book. " He pulled a small book from a pocket. "Not much to look at, is it!" He flicked through the pages." All these scuffed pages and a dirty cover. It has been well used. That was one you saw in my library. I half hoped you would want to see it. I was actually wondering if I could have tricked you into reading some of it, especially one part. That would have been a delicious irony. " "This book had a number of magic spells. I see you are skeptical but yes, there are old incantations and so powerful that anyone hearing them would experience their effects. I have long had an interest in old spells and I have a healthy respect for them, and I was very careful in testing them out. You know, most of the spells in this book were medical. They were able to heal certain fevers, various wounds and burns, and simple thing like harelips, squints and so on. These ones there." Weber flicked through some dirty worn pages. All the new girl could see was strange writing but it was too far from her to make out. "But there were other interesting things in the book. See here!" Weber turned to a page. "This incantation says that any man hearing it will become a beautiful woman. Any other man who heard it would become a woman too for that matter, also a beautiful one! So you see, it was quite an intriguing book, and yet a useful one. Dangerous for men, obviously. It has been quite useful for some friends of mine in the past. For instance, it's a way of making enemies disappear." Dieter looked at it with horror. Weber was right. It was small, with a stained scuffed leather cover. Was this some of the witchcraft that the Graf had sent him to investigate? "Oh yes, that yellow cover on the book, it's human skin. I suppose that has some significance too. That's the spell we used on you. I summoned the mayor's wife and had her read the spell to you and, as you have found, it has worked very well. Obviously I could not read it to you. They owed me some favours. The mayor's wife had been badly injured some years ago and I used several spells on her to heal her. They worked well although she still has a slight limp. Both she and the mayor are so grateful that they have helped me. The spell works on women too. They become beautiful too, but the effects on their bodies are nowhere as severe. "Now, for your information, you have been unconscious about a day and a half. Don't you like your new body?" He poked one of the breasts hanging on the new woman's chest. She flinched at his touch. "I can't stay in this body!" she shrieked. "I am a man. I demand you change me back!" Weber gave her a contemptuous sneer. "Well, I suppose that would be possible as we could do that with another spell in the book, this one here," and he pointed to another page. "But no, I have a special future for you, one that will be admirably filled by a beautiful woman. "No doubt you're feeing a bit unused to, maybe embarrassed with that new body of yours? Yes, quite different from a man's, isn't it? But, maybe it will be some comfort to you, I've found out from past experiences that people like you, over several months, adjust to their new woman's bodies and get to like them quite well. No, in your case you shouldn't experience your new body for that long." "Why did you do this?" the new woman babbled. "Well, for one, to hold you better. You've now only a woman's strength and are more easily controlled. The other reason? Oh, I have a special task for you in a week or so." The new woman shuddered. She was now immersed in a female body. By some terrible process changed into a woman! She looked at her hands. They were small with fine long fingers, woman's hands. Her arms and legs were smooth and rounded like women's. When she looked at the naked body in the light of the lantern, its shape was completely that of a woman. Her smooth legs were long and straight and set over neat ankles and small feet. "You have to change me back," she pleaded. "Sorry, I cannot do that, although you do plead pretty well." Weber looked at her contemptuously. "Maybe you are even getting some female attributes already." The new woman thought desperately. "You do not know who I am," she babbled. "I'm an investigator for the Graf. I was only pretending to be a painter. He sent me here to investigate and I report to him regularly. He'll know I am missing and will send out a party to rescue me. You'd better change me back if you want to avoid further trouble." Weber gave a dismissive lift of his head. "The Graf would be unsuccessful at finding you. We would keep you well hidden and anyway, who would recognize you now? You will be gone from here anyway! Also, we knew you were coming. We had been warned. You see, your immediate supervisor, Herr Schuster, he warned us about you. He even warned us about the previous investigator and I captured him too. I 'll let you know, I used the spell on him too but unfortunately he died. This spell, I have found that it is quite severe. Some men die. But I must say, it has worked well on you. Now you are just right for our purposes. "For you, I managed to scatter enough clues to intrigue you and make you think of coming here, investigating. I left a button from his coat for you as a clue, to get you here. You fell into my trap. I needed a pretty girl for a ... certain task. Now I have one." Monika got a bad feeling. "Why is that?" "Ohh, I will tell you sometime." Weber studied her. "Now, I am going to let you out. Being locked in that dark cell is not really good for your health. And I need you as a young healthy appealing girl. You broke into my dwelling so that is another reason to keep you as my prisoner. But I have another reason too. I am not quite ready to put you to your task so in the meantime, just so you know your place, you will act as a servant to me and you will be trained that way." Two women in maids' clothing had come and stood on either side of Weber. One was the heavy woman who had served them wine. "Trudy" he gestured to his right, "and Annika here," he gestured to the other. " They will supervise you. I warn you, they will tolerate no resistance." Dieter remembered Trudy from before. She had a hulking build and looked as strong as a man. Annika was thin and dried out looking, but still strong enough.to control her. Weber gave a key to Trudy and she knelt at the new woman's feet. She heard a click and felt her ankle free of the chain. Trudy pushed her out of the cell door but immediately seized hold of her arm and propelled her through a door and into a larger room with a tub of water set on the stone floor. "Unfortunately, women are a bit smelly after the spell. It's the fever from the spell," said Weber. "We can't have that in a pretty girl. They will make sure you wash. "They will also show you how to groom and dress yourself, as woman." "I am not a woman," she protested but they simply ignored her. Annika pointed to the tub and a cake of soap. The new woman did not like the way she was being ordered around, but either of the women could have easily forced her as her own build was much slighter. Besides, she knew she was still very weak and She stepped into the water, surprised to find it pleasantly warm. "You smell rancid!" Trudy pointed to the soap. "So wash yourself all over," she ordered and meekly the new woman did so. "Your hair too!" and she obeyed. Annika pointed at her breasts and groin. "These too! Thoroughly! She did so, flinching as her fingers ran over the sensitive tissues between her legs and embarrassingly aware of the projections of her breasts and the tenderness of the nipples. "How do you like your new body?" Weber asked. She fumed at his supercilious manner and glared at him. "Good! Now dry yourself!" Trudy threw her a large towel. She dried herself, her mouth gaping open when she saw her male hairs stripping from her arms and legs, leaving them as smooth as women's. Weber was watching her intently and had noticed her surprise. "Yes, the male hair just breaks off and falls out." Annika had brought a bundle and laid them at her feet. "Your servant's clothes!" She had become aware of the way Weber was looking at her and did not like his expression. There was a mirror and she caught sight of her reflection, her new body, curved, a woman's body. Actually, the figure in the mirror was very attractive. There was no way anyone could believe it had only some days before been a man's body. She began to feel vulnerable and needed to hide herself from his gaze. She picked up the clothes, unsure how they went on. "These first!" Trudy handed her women's underwear, made of fine linen and, red faced, she pulled them up her legs. She was not used to the feel and, despite her situation, she started to blush. When she hesitated Trudy glared at her and slapped her face. "Do it!" and she tied them at the waist. "Now this!" Annike handed her a blouse, a woman's blouse with a low but frilly neckline. She buttoned it up, giving a little shudder when she saw how her breasts framed and heaving in the low neckline. When Trudy pointed to white woollen stockings she sat down and pulled them on. Next was a short petticoat of a stiffish material that flared about her hips. It felt strange about her legs and thighs. "Last," Trudy said. She handed the new woman a dark green dirndl type outfit and dismayed, she fumbled to put it on. The skirt clung to her slim waist then flared out over her hips and petticoat. The tight bodic