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Thanks P. for help with editing the story. SECONDHAND Another uneventful gray day of my life was coming to an end, and I had just closed the door and turned off the light at the back of the shop when there was a frantic knocking. A tall, white-haired woman in a long fashionable coat was standing outside, with two large black bin bags. I went up to the door and said, "We're closed! Sorry!" "What shall I do with these clothes, then?" the woman asked me, exaggerating her lip movements so that I could understand her through the glass. "I can't take them back." "Just leave them there in the doorway," I told her hoping that she would just go away and let me finish my working day. "There are some very good-quality clothes in here, and some of it is very expensive, too! It would be a shame to have them stolen!" I hesitated for a moment wishing just to go home, but the woman was persistent. I signed and said, "All right, all right, just hold on a moment!" I went back to switch on the light and then returned to unlock the door. The woman immediately bundled the two bags inside and dropped them onto the floor by the counter. "That's rid of that lot, thank God!" she said. Now that she was inside the shop, I could see that she wasn't as old as she had appeared through the window. Her hair was white, but only because it was blonde and she had bleached it. She was about thirty-five or thirty-seven, thin, with pale blue eyes and sharp angular cheekbones. Her posture, her accent, and gestures made me think about the upper class. "My aunt's clothes," she explained. "She died three weeks ago, and we've been clearing out her house." "Well, if you have any more-" I answered. "No, this is the last of it," the woman told me. "There's a lot of books, but they're mostly in Russian and Hungarian, and they're mostly medical. She was a doctor of something-or-other." "All right, well, thank you anyway," I answered. "I have to lock up now, or I will miss the train." The woman looked around the shop and then looked back at me. "Are you working alone here?" I nodded instead of answering and shrugged my shoulders wondering why would she care. She gave me a strange look and opened her mouth as to say something, but hesitated. "Well ... thank you so much for taking those bags in." The woman left, and when I went to lock the front door after her, I saw her climbing into a black Mercedes saloon which had pulled up on the opposite side of the street. The car drove away quickly leaving me watching its tail lights. Although I had said that I could be late for my train, there was still time before I had to go. It was probably impolite that I didn't want to open the door for the woman, but I felt so demotivated (depressed) to do anything these days. I was feeling like this job of a charity shop manager is all I can achieve in this life, and I hated it. It was like this for months now, my desperate craving to change my way; to summon the courage to bring the changes into my life; to divorce my fat wife Olga and try to pursue the dreams I once had, dreams of being an artist. But the daily routine was keeping a hold of me; it was sucking all the energy out of me. And now I was to come back home where Olga will mock me for being a bad loser and threaten to use her dildo on me if I fail to satisfy her in bed. I shook my head in disgust and promised myself yet again to find the courage to change my life before it's too late. "Maybe tomorrow, right in the morning I will start fresh, but now I have to close the shop," I said to myself aloud and picked up the bags to carry it at the back of the shop where I will check and separate them in the morning. Some of the donated clothes can be used only as rags and some need to be steam-cleaned and then hung on display. As I made it to the storeroom, I opened the bags and removed the clothes. Jackets, dresses, trousers, shirts, and coats. All in good condition, a bit old-fashioned, though. One item caught my eye. It was Rock and Roll black leather jacket with epaulets and a big zipper. I felt tingling at my fingers as I took it and held in front of me. The memory rushed back to me. Light. Sound. Euphoria. Pretty girls asking me out. Interviews. Headlines "New Mike Jagger from the east." I saw it all like a flash. Our band broke up before we managed to finish our first album, but the few months of fame we were having was the happiest time of my life. For all I knew, I was holding a sign in my hands; a sign saying that it was time to change my life and try to pursue my dreams again. I ran into the curtained-off changing-room and tried the jacket in front of the mirror. But I knew the answer before I saw my reflection. The jacket was too tight at the shoulders, and around my waist area, and, at the same time, it was too big around the chest. It was a female jacket. Still, the reflection wasn't too bad. I didn't button it up, and it wasn't too obvious that it was a female jacket. As I stood there staring at myself in the mirror. I saw a glimpse of the younger version of myself -- a bit arrogant, but also happy and full of expectations. A sad feeling engulfed my mind as if I had fallen out with a very close friend, or someone close to me died. I peered at my reflection even more closely and was alarming to see that I had tears glistening in my eyes. I didn't remember when was the last time I cried, probably when I was a little boy. Suddenly my body gave a deep, suppressed sob, and the tears started to roll down my cheeks and drip off the chin. "Why am I crying? Why am I so upset? Stop it!" I told myself as I stepped out of the changing room and started to take off the jacket, blaming it for the uncontrolled emotions I had. I was going to throw it away and try to forget about it, but suddenly I heard something like a whisper. "Who's there?" I asked aloud and hated to hear how frightened my voice sounded. I started to feel angry with myself. Crying in front of a mirror like a baby? Be afraid of small noises? It all was so out of character for me! I heard the whisper again; it sounded like someone was calling me from a distance. "Who's there?" I asked again trying my best to sound confident. I was half sure I forgot to lock the front door, and someone entered the shop. But the front door and the back doors were properly locked. And yet I was getting a feeling that someone was present; someone was looking at me and even whispered to me. "Am I losing my mind?" I asked myself and leave the shop in a hurry hoping that the fresh air will help to clear my head. I walked quickly, almost running, trying to get away from that dreadful whisper, from that awful feeling that someone was watching me. And it was only at the train station when I realized that I was late for the train and that I was still wearing the leather jacket. I wondered what is going on with me. Normally I wouldn't even consider wearing donated clothes before they are cleaned. A whole legion of virulent bacteria were capable of surviving in secondhand clothes, as well as lice and scabies. Some infections like hepatitis and syphilis could even withstand repeated washing. "Damn it! I need a drink!" I was trying to avoid alcohol as much as possible ever since I realized that my drinking almost killed me in the past and effectively killed my chance of success in show business. But at that moment I felt like I didn't care. ***** Olga could smell the alcohol on my breath. I didn't drink much; in fact, I felt like part of me hated the drink and I was afraid I was going to puke if I would take another gulp. But Olga was able to smell it anyway, and it was all she needed to start calling me names and telling me how all her friends are making jokes about me. I didn't listen. I stormed to the bathroom and clothed the door. I started to wash my hands. The running water always helped me to calm down. I washed my hands and then did it again and again, ignoring screams behind the door. I knew that she will get tired soon and will calm down as well. I started to dry my hands when I noticed that I'm still wearing the jacket. There was a strange feeling like I didn't want to remove it. With an effort, I took it off and folded it carefully, but it felt like it was snuggling up to me, like a pet cat not willing to let me go, and I patted it. The fact that I was late and smelled of alcohol, fueled Olga for another round of verbal attacks. And I was doing my best trying to ignore her as usual and trying to find some food in the kitchen. "It was your duty to cook the dinner! One thing I ask you to do is to be home in time and cook the dinner. And you can't do even that! I ordered pizza again, and you know that pizza is bulking me up!" I opened my mouth to ask her why she didn't bother to leave me a slice or two of pizza if it's so bad for her but then decided to keep the silence. The ice cream was only ready to eat food in the fridge, and I took a few spoons of it. Then I took another few for Olga knowing that she will want to eat it too. I was eating the ice cream in silence, doing my best to ignore Olga when she suddenly changed her mood and started to ask me about the jacket, saying that it makes me looks younger. I tensed inside, knowing that the mood change means that she wanted to have sex tonight. And I knew that I wouldn't be able to ... I just can't make love to a person I hate, and I hated this woman more than ever this evening. Sure I was to fail, and sure that was going to make her laugh at me and call me useless, and say that I'm not a real man. Suddenly I was filled with determination to do something. I went to the fridge, and prepared another big portion of ice cream and quickly opened three sleeping capsules in it and added Olga's favorite strawberry jam on top of it. "You want to spoil me! You are a bad boy!" said Olga driving her spoon through the new portion. "No, I just want you to shut up!" I thought to myself. ***** I was woken up by Olga's snoring. She always snored. Each exhalation would start with a harsh rabid growl, but then soften up and finish with a pathetic off-key squeal. It was like each time she exhaled she wanted to let all the world what a big fatty body she possesses, but halfway through she was beginning to remember that she is a woman and was not supposed to snore so loudly. I turned my head to look at the digital clock beside the bed. It was 2:34. I lay there for a while, while Linda snored on and on, with an occasional snuffle. The streetlights were shining through the gap in the curtains. And I couldn't stop thinking about the leather jacket, and the strange way I had felt when I was wearing it. I climbed out of bed and felt my way across the dark bedroom and to the living room where I left the jacket on the sofa. There was just enough space in the living room for a big vinyl sofa, one armchair and a coffee table. A big TV was mounted on the wall, and I could see myself reflected in its shiny black screen as I crossed the room to pick up the jacket. I looked like a ghost of myself, pale and out of focus, and perhaps that's what I was at the time, nothing more than a ghost of my former self. I tried on the jacket, and this time, because I was naked, I could feel its soft silk lining across my bareback. And I felt tingling all over my naked body. It was like I was getting static electric shock again and again. I gasped, but the feeling wasn't entirely unpleasant; slowly it was replaced with jacket's material snuggling tight all over to my naked skin. It was still too tight for me, but it also felt right somehow. And there was something about it I hadn't noticed before - strange bitter aroma. I sniffed one sleeve and feel old perfume and something like bonfire smoke and something else, something I wasn't able to recognize. I switched on the light without concern about Olga. After three sleeping pills, Olga wouldn't be able to wake up even if I would start shouting at her. I stood in front of the long wall mirror at the halfway and looked at myself. The jacket was tight around my shoulders, but it made me stand straight, and it was the posture I long forgot. And Olga was right; the jacket was making me look younger and healthier and ... pretty? "Yes, why not?" I thought to myself. "Yes, it was making me look pretty." My cheekbones seemed more angular. Perhaps it was only the subdued lighting in the hallway that lent me that look, but my nose seemed to be smaller, eyes bigger and brighter, and my lips seemed to became fuller and more sensual. I went to the bedroom where Olga continued to snore and stood in front of her. "Now, what I'm going to do with you, Olga?" ***** I woke up confused and disoriented. It was 6:12 and Olga was still asleep, but I felt that something was terribly wrong. I tried to raise myself and felt a sharp pain in the ass, and it all comes back to me. "What the hell is wrong with me?" I asked, almost cried aloud as I started to remember what happened last night. I remembered watching Olga asleep last night and feeling nothing but disgust. "You said you should use your dildo on me because I'm not a real man. You know what? Maybe I'm not a real man, but it is because you are not a real woman!" I remember saying to her sleeping body and taking her dildo and lubricant from the night table. I positioned myself right beside her on the bed and forced her dildo inside of me. "What the hell?" I asked again seeing the dildo and spilled lubricant. I was never even thinking about doing such things before! "Goddamnit! I was straight! No, no, no I'm still straight. It was just ... it was an accident. Yes, it was an accident. There was something in this drink." I was trying to rationalize what happened, but the memory of pushing the dildo inside of me and then doing it again and again, finding a rhyme with it, and then falling unconscious from the strongest orgasm I ever had, made me doubt myself. I took off the jacket and threw it to the floor only to pick it up a second later; I needed to bring it back to the shop. The touch to my jaw revealed that shaving wasn't needed, but my chin felt different, the skin was smooth and delicate. My hair also felt different when combed backward. The texture of the hair felt soft to the touch, and it grew much longer, it almost covered my ears. I wondered if it can grew overnight like this, but I avoided looking in the mirror because I wasn't sure I would be able to look myself in the eye anytime soon. I left the house in a hurry and walked briskly to the train station shivering with the morning coolness and holding the leather jacket under my right shoulder. "What if they can see it in my eyes? Would I be able to face people after what I did last night?" I thought to myself while avoiding looking at people passing by. It was still a few minutes before the train, and the wind was unpleasantly cold, but all of a sudden I started to feel warm and comfortable. "When I put it on?" I wondered seeing that jacket was on me. I began to unzip it, but then stopped. A feeling of comfortable warmth engulfed my body. My posture changed, my back and my chin raised. Strange thoughts come into my mind. "Yes, I'm wearing a female jacket, so what?" I looked at other people around almost wishing them to know. "Yes, I penetrated myself with my wife's dildo, but have you ever experienced an orgasm so powerful it made you fall unconscious?" The train and I boarded it no longer afraid of making eye contacts. ***** It was still too early to open the shop, and I went straight into the storage room and busied myself with separating the clothes. But this time the process of checking the clothes was different. "What a lovely dress! I wonder what it would look like with the jacket?" "This skirt is a real deal! Not too girly and yet provocative enough." I ended up trying female jeans and a matching top. The jeans and the top fit me surprisingly well, and the mirror inside the changing room beckoned me to come and see how I looked, but I was interrupted by a loud knocking at the front door. For a second I hesitated if I should change to my old clothes before answering, but somehow I felt empowered by the clothes, and something inside of me was whispering that everything is alright. I went up to the door and saw a handsome looking man in his 30's with a stubble. I found his face to be intelligent, attractive and somehow familiar. The man knocked again to draw my attention, and I gave myself a mental slap. "Why I'm starring this man like this?" "We're not open yet! Sorry! Please come later," I said in a loud voice so he can hear me through the door. "It's urgent! I need to talk to you immediately!" "But what can be so urgent?" "It's about clothes your shop received yesterday! It's crucial, and I need to talk to you immediately!" My heart skipped a bit. Part of me understood that there was something strange about the jacket and the way I was behaving since I touched it. The growth of my hair and the fact that the leather jacket doesn't felt tight anymore, all indicated that something was very wrong. And yet I was reluctant to let this man come and probably take it all away from me and rob me of the feeling of being alive and young again. With a heavy heart, I opened the door and let the man inside. "The clothes? Where are the clothes? You got it yesterday late afternoon!" the man demanded as soon as he entered the shop. "We are not returning the donated clothes!" The man took a deep breath to try and calm himself down. "Ms, you don't understand," he started more calmly. "The clothes you received yesterday belonged to Dr. Kasden. She was a scientific leader of significant and potentially dangerous research. I have grounds to suspect that a part of her belongings was infected with hazardous microorganisms. You have to cooperate with me, or you can find your shop clothed forever." For some reason, I felt like crying, and my eyes become wet. "Don't be so upset it's not so dangerous unless somebody started to wear it. But as far I know you have the rule to disinfect all clothes before offering them, don't you?" I nodded fighting back the tears and remembering putting the jacket on my naked body last night. "And of course, I will pay for all of it so that it will be like a normal sale and you wouldn't get any trouble," he added looking at my wet eyes. I tried to smile feeling his concern and walked him to the storage room. "This is all of it?" he asked when I showed him the pile on the table. I nodded, he put on gloves and started to pack the clothes in separate white plastic bags with locks. "Are you absolutely sure that it all of the clothes you got yesterday?" I was about to say "Yes" when I suddenly remembered that the skirt and the dress I liked so much I left near changing-room where I was going to try them. And the jeans, top and the jacket I was wearing where from the same pile. "Yes, that's all," I said smiling mischievously inside. After the clothes were packed the man sprayed the table with a foul- smelling liquid; he insisted on sprayed my hands and even doorknobs with the same liquid. "If you or your coworkers will feel something strange please contact me immediately." The card he gave me said, Dr. Richard Stevenson Research Institute Inc. I promised to call and thanked him for paying for clothes he was taking away, closed the door behind me and pressed my back to it exhaling slowly. "Ok, the clothes I'm wearing are infected with something. And this something is controlling my behavior and changing me." I tried to rationalize by talking to myself. "Maybe I should talk to the man and ask for help? But for what? I feel so alive and vibrant for the very first time in years! But what if it's dangerous and will damage my health?" I didn't have an answer for the last question, but something inside of me told me that everything is going to be alright. I decided that if I feel any bad symptoms, I will contact the man, but at the moment I wanted nothing else but to try the skirt and see how it will look on me. ***** I put the skirt on, and strangely it felt like I was wearing skirts and dresses all my life. I was about to give myself a good look in the mirror when someone knocked on the front door again. Without a second thought, I come to the door still wearing the skirt. Katherina, the co-owner of the charity, was there, and I let her in. She was a small woman in her 50s, and She was always positive, chatty, with a pleasant smile and friendly gray eyes. I liked her a lot as she reminded me of my first-grade teacher. "You!" She freezes with her mouth half-open as she looked me up and down. "I almost didn't recognize you! Oh my God! I didn't know you are ... But look at you! You must be taking the therapy for months now!" Katherina bombarded me with questions, but luckily for me, she also answered most of them and wasn't pressing me to answer the rest. "You look so good in this!" she continued. "Oh! I see you smiling! You were so depressed lately, and now I understand why! I'm so happy to see you smiling! And how lovely you are! But you need to add makeup to look more professional. You know what? I will take you for lunch at the mall, and we will see about it." ***** I was wearing the female jacket and skirt in public and felt nothing but confidence. Somehow it felt like my body knew how to do it. I walked in three-inch strappy shoes without difficulty and I adjusted my skirt before sitting down at the restaurant and crossed my legs like it was the most natural thing to do. "I'm so happy for you; you have no idea! You were so depressed; I started to worry about you." Katherina talked with her mouth half filled with sushi. "And I proud of you. But you need to take good care of your look. Your hair is not ok. And you need to learn how to apply makeup. But don't you worry, I will take care of your first step." We finished our lunch at the sushi restaurant, and Katherina walked me to a beauty parlor. Before long I found myself sitting in a chair in front of a mirror. My hair was washed, and something smelly was applied to it. The woman who was attending me chatted with Katherina and was trying to teach me how to apply the makeup at the same time. She was saying something like, "The smoky eyes is the best for your style," and "Don't forget to use a fluffy brush." But it was difficult to concentrate on what the woman was saying. I was seeing my face in the mirror for the first time since I left the shop yesterday and I was absolutely taken aback but what I saw. It wasn't me; it was a female version of myself. And it wasn't just gender; I was also looked younger and healthier. My hair was dyed honey blond and cut in a long pixie with more hair on my left side of the head. My eyebrows were arched, and makeup was applied on my face. As the last blow came a piercing gun and two small shiny stoods appeared in my ears. Katherina looked worrying at me as we walked outside. "Are you ok?" she asked, and I nodded still too shocked to talk. "Look, I'm sorry if I pushed you too far today. But I also have to care about the shop. I'm totally ok with you wanting to be a woman, but you also have to look pleasant for the customers. You understand?" I nodded again, and she hugged me. ***** We walked through an underpass when I heard a band playing there. They were amateurs, but they weren't too bad except for the leading voice. The guy had a high opinion about himself judging by his manners, but he clearly didn't know what he was doing. The song ended and one of the band members come to the listeners with a hat to collect donations. "I will give you 10, but you let me sing the next song." The guy looked surprised at me but quickly nodded. "Ok, dude, but you better be good." He went back, and I hear him arguing with they leading voice, "The chick will be singing for money, give her the mic." I gave a few tries to test the mic and then nodded to the guys to start paying. The long forgotten feeling of standing in front of a band with the mic in my hand; my boldness, the newly found confidence and the classic melody I knew so well. I closed my eyes and felt the sound being born deep inside of me; the sound carried by emotions and feelings. And I heard a deep female voice reflected by concrete and coming back to my ears. And I let my emotions lead the way. When the song was finished, I stood there for a few seconds before opening my eyes, trying not to let slip away the beautiful feeling of expressing myself. When I opened my eyes finally, I was surprised to see that the crowd grew and more than a dozen people looked at me with astonishment. Someone started clapping, and suddenly everyone was clapping, and many were looking for change to donate. I gave the mic back and walked quickly to Katherina. But we didn't manage more than a few steps away before the guy with the hat stopped us. "Hey, you promised us a tenner for singing," he said with an excited voice, and I opened my purse to find the cash. "No, I'm joking, you keep it to yourself, but you have to sing with us again! We will be playing in Susy's bar at seven tomorrow. Can you make it?" I was reluctant to answer, but Katherina did it instead of me. "Yes, she can make it!" ***** I was getting late again, and I missed my train. I was standing on the station not sure what should I do. Coming home to Olga wasn't a pleasure for me lately, and I didn't even want to imagine how she would react to my new look. It was possible to wash away the makeup and change the clothes and take out the earrings, but my face looked very different, and I wouldn't be able to explain my new haircut. The next train came, and I watched it leave still not decided what should I do. It was getting colder, and I started to walk just to get warmer. A car slowed down to match my speed, and I saw a man checking me out. I sped up my walking trying my best to pretend like I know where I was going. I turned to a cheap hotel near the station and went inside. I decided that I may as well take some rest before I make my mind what to do next. A big muscular woman looked me up and down without smiling. "I want 15%," she said holding the key to the room I paid for. "What?" I asked surprised. "If you will be working and will be bringing men to the room than I want my share!" The shocking realization that she mistook me for a whore made me freeze, but I managed to nod my head slightly as the muscular woman was obviously waiting for a response, and she tossed the key to me. ***** I took my clothes off and stepped into the shower. The hot water felt great, and I stood there enjoying it. Eventually, I became tired of it and stepped outside. With hesitation, I cleaned the fog from the mirror and looked at myself. It took a few moments for my brain to register the image and when it did I pressed my hands to my mouth to suppress the scream. It wasn't only my face. My muscles were gone, shoulders became small, and my hands looked delicate. And on my chest stood two small but perky breasts. The most shocking part was that my face stopped to look like my female version. I was looking like I was changing to someone else entirely. Frantically I fished out the business card of Dr. Richard Stevenson and started to call his number, but then stopped wondering what I was going to tell him. I imagined saying to him, "Hi, I was lying to you today when I said that there no more clothes. You know, it felt good, but now I'm afraid it changing me to someone else." "I need a drink!" I said aloud and started to put on clothes. ***** The closest bar was just a few minutes of walking away, and I almost ran there hoping to find the courage to call Dr. Stevenson after I take a few gulps of alcohol. I tried to climb on a high stool beside the bar counter, but it wasn't an easy task while wearing the skirt. It took me a moment or two to figure out how to do it without losing my balance and not exposing my skirt to the whole bar. I wasn't going to spend too much time there, especially after my embarrassing struggle with the stool, so I ordered one vodka shot and was planning to take another one and be on my way back to the hotel. But before I was able to put the empty shot glass back on the counter, I found myself getting some company. The man was all smiles and he looked genuinely interested in having a conversation with me. His attention flattered me, and I found myself making small talk and even laughing at his jokes. At one point of the time, he interrupted the talk to wave to the barman to order yet another drink. I turned my head and saw three empty glasses in front of me. "Hey, I didn't come here to get drunk or make friends!" I thought to myself and started to think about a polite excuse to leave. Nothing else comes to my mind, but to say that I needed to visit ladies' room. I walked away feeling guilty for abandoning the man after he paid for all the drinks. For a second, I turned back and smiled at him, hoping he wouldn't be too disappointed. It was a big mistake. ***** The toilet was a small room for one person. I locked the door before turning to the mirror. I stared at my reflection, and I was sobering up quickly. A face of a young woman was looking back at me. The woman needed to refresh her makeup and her hair needed brushing, but she seemed undoubtfully female, young and beautiful. Yes, the woman that looked back at me was beautiful, but it wasn't me, and I felt terrified. I took a deep breath and splashed my face with cold water. "Ok, somehow I'm turning to someone else. I will go out of the toilet, turn to exit and will call the doctor on my way to the hotel." I felt better once a plan was formulated. But as soon as I opened the door, someone pushed me roughly back inside. I was shocked to recognize the man from the bar. But he looked different at the moment, the polite smile was replaced with a smirk, and his eyes showed lust. "What are you do..." But he didn't let me finish grabbing me roughly and pressing me against the wall. "Wanna play rough? I love playing rough!" He sounded excited. I was too shocked to react, and he probably took it as an invitation. He turned me around and whispered, "I'm gonna fuck you so hard, bitch!" into my ear before forcing my head down to the sink and positioned himself behind me. He wasn't losing any time as one of his hands found its way under my top and grabbed my left breast while his right hand was busy lifting my skirt. Frantically I pushed myself away from the sink, but I wasn't able to go far as the room was too small and the man grabbed me again. "Let me go!" I cried and was about to scream for help, but the man slapped me across my face. He grabbed my hair painfully and forced me on my knees. "Where are you going, bitch? I just started with you!" he said while keeping my hair with one hand and opening his fly with another. I grabbed his hand trying to make him free my hair and watched in horror as he took out his semi-erected cock and directed it right into my face. "You gonna suck me nice and slow, slut! Now open your mouth!" he demanded while pulling my hair even more painfully. The pain made me close my eyes and open my mouth. But as soon as I felt that his cock entered my mouth, I started biting him as strong as I was able. He let go of my hair and started to scream in pain, "Aah! aaaaah! I'm going to kill you, bitch!" But I wasn't even looking at him; I opened the door and ran as fast as I could to the street. And I didn't stop running until I was back in the hotel. The muscular woman at the reception looked sympathetic. "Rough client, sweetie? You know, with your looks you can earn some good money, but you need a manager. I can hook you up with a right guy if you like." I didn't bother to answer; I ran to my room and locked the door. ***** The phone's screen showed 15 missed calls from Olga, but I wasn't going to call her back; for all I knew even my voice become unrecognizable by this time. With my hands still trembling I dialed Dr. Stevenson's number. The line rang three times, and the sleepy voice of Dr. Richard Stevenson said, "Hello?" I took a breath to say something and even opened my mouth, but nothing came out. "Hello?" he asked again, but I still wasn't able to talk. "Sorry, I can't hear you," he said and hung up. I was staring at the phone, trying to summon the courage to call him again. I tried to say something aloud, but only sobs come out. Finally, I texted him. "Was wearing the clothes. I'm changing. What should I do?" A few seconds later my phone started to ring; he was calling me back. I canceled. He called again and again, but I didn't answer, I was sure I would not be able to talk. He stopped to call, and a few seconds later a message appeared "stop wearing the clothes and let me know where u r!" Then another message appeared. "where r u? We need to meet asap!" "Not now," I answered. "When?" And then, "Morning, can we meet in the morning?" "Yes," I texted back and switched the phone off. ***** Dr. Stevenson told me to stop wearing the clothes, but I didn't have any choice. I put the skirt, top and the jacket back on and they feet fit me perfectly. I did my best trying to make my hair look good and applying makeup. The slap mark was still visible, but it didn't spoil the image. The woman in the mirror looked attractive and intelligent. ***** I chose to meet Dr. Stevenson in a cafe near the subway station. I didn't know what is going on, but I was afraid. There were two exits, and I was hoping it will give me a chance in case I would need to escape. The waitress smiled at me pleasantly and asked what I wanted to eat. I asked for a cappuccino, and she recommended ordering muffins with it. I didn't want to eat but agreed to take a muffin to keep her happy. I wasn't used to people smiling at me so much and felt obliged somehow. Dr. Stevenson appeared quicker than I expected and he looked like he was running all the way. I tried to hide my face behind the menu, but he spotted me quickly anyway. The closer he got, the deeper I was trying to hide my head. "Cough, cough," he said coming to my table. "Sorry, but I still don't know your name." I swallowed hard before putting the menu aside and looking back at him. His face clenched up as soon as he saw me. His face becomes pale and he sat quickly, almost falling in the seat in front of me. "You!" he said with trembling voice. "You look exactly like her! Like a young version of her!" I looked puzzled at him. His eyes were wide open, and he was staring at me like he wasn't able to get enough of me. I started to feel uncomfortable, I looked down then back at him, and I think I blushed. The silence became unbearable, and I decided to start talking first. "So, I was wearing the clothes. In fact, I still wear them," I said gesturing to my jacket. "I know I shouldn't, but it felt right somehow, it was like this jacket wanted me to wear it." "Amazing! You even started to sound like her!" "Who is her? Who you are talking about?" "Dr. Kasden, you are looking exactly like her younger version." "How is that possible?" He took a deep breath and even broke eye contact before answering. "In the last 20 years she was working on a project related to human microbiotics. Her theory was that the next step of human evolution was in developing symbiotic relation with the microbiotics. I was her assistant the last seven years." He looked at me again and licked his lips before continuing. "She believed that it would be possible to train microbiotics to maintain human's health and even ..." He stopped suddenly noticing that the waitress was coming to our table. He ordered coffee, and I waited for the waitress to bring it to him. "Dr. Stevenson, I understand that you were working on this microbiotics of yours and somehow I've got infected by wearing her clothes. But how I'm going to change back now?" "Please call me Richard. And please let me finish," he said and looked around nervously before continuing. "I doubted it myself, but now when I see you becoming a copy of her, now I believe what she was saying. She was right! Yes, now I understand, and I start to doubt what happened to her." "What do you mean? She died, right?" "I start to doubt even that. One year ago we announced that we are getting close to a human trial. Strange things began to happen then. Some government people suddenly became interested in our research. I understood that the military and some agencies tried to recrut Dr. Kasden, but she refused to cooperate, she said it's against her principles." Richard took a big sip of coffee before continuing. "The research was very promising. It was visible that we will find a cure for cancer and will find a way to prolong human life. At least animal testing showed that it's possible." He took his coffee cup and looked at it thoughtfully. "You mentioned strange thing?" "Yes. When we come close to tests on humans, and she refused to cooperate with the government, our founding was cut off, and we were ordered to concentrate on other research. But Dr. Kasden refused to comply and continued the research in her free time. She was keeping me out of it saying that it is for my good, but when she disappeared, I started to investigate what she was doing." "Disappeared?" "Yes, she disappeared, and nobody knew where she was for two months. Then they say that she died in a car accident. But nobody explained where she was for those two months. I went to the funeral, and the casket was closed. Hell, I'm not even sure anymore that she died!" A tall man in a gray suit entered the cafe and took a seat next to our table. Richard looked nervously at the man, leaned close to me and continued in a whisper. "Dr. Kasden left some notes and blood samples, and I remember that before disappearing she was looking younger and healthier every passing day. She did it! But then she went missing, and a few days later our lab was raided. All notes and test results were gone! I didn't know what to do, everything was gone, but then I fought about her clothes. The closes must be full of her microbiotics! I come to her relatives, but I found that they donated all the clothes. That's how I found you." I realized that I was holding my breath listening to his whisper. I took a deep breath and felt my nipples rub against my clothes. I understood that I needed to start wearing a bra. The thought that I needed female lingerie made me painfully aware of my situation. "But Dr. ... I mean Richard, what I'm going to do? How do I change back?" "It is not easy, to say the least." He glanced again at the man in the gray suit, and suddenly stood up. He pulled me by my shoulder and hissed, "We need to go!" He pulled me to follow him, and I protested, "What are you doing? Where we are going?" "I think I've been followed!" "What?" "It was a mistake! You look so much like her! If she is not dead, they may be looking for her." "Who is they?" I cried back trying to keep up with his fast pace. "The people who raided the lab and people who were following me this morning." I turned my head and saw the man in the gray suit following us. "Don't look at him!" said Richard and we almost ran to the subway. "Give me your phone!" he demanded and gave it to him only to see him throwing it into a trash can. "What are you doing?" "No time for the explanation!" he said still pulling me to follow him. "We will need to separate. You will board the first train, and I will go in the opposite direction." "But where I go? I need to change back!" He took a key from his pocket. "What is it?" I asked as he gave it to me. "It's a key to an apartment. I found it in Dr. Kasden's clothes. It can be her hiding place. There is a name on it, try to locate it. I will see you there." A train comes in, and suddenly Richard pulled me close to him. Before I was able to understand what was going to happen, he pressed his lips to mine. "What that was for?" I asked when the kiss was broken. "I need an alibi. I will tell them that I was having an affair with you. That's why I was running away. You have to go now. Find the apartment." He pushed me into the car, and the door closed just a second later. The train speeded up, and I saw Richard standing there and looking back at me as two men in gray suits approached him. To be continued?