--===Sapphire's Channel - M.I.B. ===--
                                    M.I.B.

 
 (MEN IN BLACK)

 
CHAPTER ONE 

	
I was in the La Guardia waiting for my plane back home to South
Florida to board. It had been an uneventful trip to New York, and the
deposition had gone about like I thought it would. I was very tired, because I
took the early morning flight up, and was taking the last flight out. These
all day trips are exhausting. 
	
After a few more minutes the announcement came over the loudspeaker,
"All of those holding boarding passes for American Airlines, flight number
1145, non-stop for Miami, is now boarding through gate number 27A. All of
those holding boarding passes for rows 1through 20 may now board." 
	
I looked at my ticket, which indicated that I was seated in row 12,
seat D. I nodded in approval to myself, because I could go, find my seat, and
get settled in, rather then wait out in the terminal for another 10 minutes. I
got up, collected my things, and got into the line up to the ticket taker. A
"line" was a kind description. It was more like a throng of people crowding
around trying to be the first to get to the ticket taker. 
	
Just then there was a commotion coming from the far end of the
terminal. I heard a couple of men yelling, "Somebody stop her. Don't let her
get away!" 
	
I looked in that direction and saw a very pretty young black girl
running towards us. She was being chased by what looked like airport security.
Running behind the airport security was a big black man dressed in a plain
black suit and tie. He was wearing sunglasses, and carrying a big, strange
looking gun. He yelled out, "EVERYBODY GET DOWN!!!" 
	
The airport security immediately dropped down, leaving the man in
black a clear shot at the running woman. By now she was almost on top of us.
Her extremely large breasts were bobbing up and down as she ran. The man in
black took aim at her. Just as he fired of a shot, she launched herself into
our crowd. I felt her hand touch mine, and everything went nuts. At first, I
was hit with a wave of dizziness. Then I was hit with a some type of massive
ball of energy. Blackness closed in all around me, as I was knocked out. 					 
	
* * * * 
	
I awoke with a massive headache. Not only that, but something didn't
seem quite right. I felt different. First off, my vision was perfectly clear,
although my perception of colors was darker, richer. Three years of law
school, and seven years of practicing law had strained my vision. Then I
noticed that my teeth also felt different. Years of dental abuse as a kid had
doomed me to multiple fillings, and a few bridges. I had one missing molar in
the lower left quadrant. Yet, as I ran my tongue around the inside of my
mouth, the gap had mysteriously been filled in. There were no fillings, and
all of the teeth felt real.....natural. Also I was breathing freely through my
nose. This was strange because I have a chronic sinus problem. It is rare if I
can even breath out of one side of my nose. Something had happened to me at
the airport. 
	
I was laid out on my back on a bed. I tried to move, and immediately
realized that I was bound hand and foot. When I attempted to move some weight
on my chest moved and shifted. I raised my head to look down at myself to see
what the problem was. As I did so I felt something pulling on my scalp. My
head was weighted down by something. I looked down at my chest and saw
something that made me doubt my sanity. There were two extremely large female
breasts in a white high neck blouse. I could feel the lace of the blouse on my
neck. The breast were so large that they formed mountains upon my chest, and
obscured the view of the rest of my body. 
	
"Oh my God." I said, my voice sound soft, feminine, and very high. I
recognized the blouse and the breasts inside the blouse if nothing else, by
their sheer size. It was the girl who was being chased. That means that
somehow, in some manner which I could not explain she had switched bodies with
me. But that's not possible! My mind was racing. What was I going to do? Where
was she now? How do I get back to my own body? 
	
I struggled to move again. My hands were tied behind my back, and I
was laying on my hands. My feet were tied at the ankles. I tried to slip my
bonds. It was no use, they were on too tight. I had to get out of there, and
find my old body. I had to convince her to switch back. I did the only thing I
could under the circumstances. I yelled for help. 
	
A man entered the room that I was in. It was the man in black who
fired the strange gun. "Ah, I see your awake. Good. I have a few questions to
ask you before I haul your little cute butt downtown." He said. 
	
"Wait a second." I said. "I'm not who you think I am. I'm not the
girl you were chasing." 
	
"Yeah, sure. Right. Don't you be trying that stuff on me now. I'm in
a bad mood already. I hit you with a clean shot before you reached that crowd.
You were out when you hit the ground. You didn't have time to do any of that
switching shit that you do." 
	
"What are you talking about? Who are you, and where are we?" 
	
"I told you don't be trying that shit." He snapped, as he crossed
the room, and put a conventional pistol up to my temple. "I'd just as soon do
you now and be done with you. But I need you to clear my name. Now I'm the one
asking the questions here." 
	
I replied, "Then were going to have a real problem here because I'm
not who you think I am. My name is Matthew Waters. I'm 39 years old, single,
and an attorney, and I live in Miami, Florida." That female voice sounded
strange coming from my mouth, particularly with the information I just
conveyed. It must have looked ridiculous to the man in black. 
	
He retreated to the other side of the room. I saw him take out a
piece of paper from his pocket. He scanned it, and seemed to latch onto one
specific section. He looked at me suspiciously and said, "What's your home
address?" 
	
 
	
I gave it to him. 
	
"What's your social security number?" 
	
I gave that to him too." 
	
"DAMN!" He exclaimed. "There's no way that you......I mean
she....it.....could have known all of that. It means that it got away again." 
	
"What's all this about anyway?" I asked. 
	
He looked at me sheepishly, looking for the right words to say. "I
don't know how to tell you this but you're in the wrong body." 
	
"I've already figured that much out. As you might have guessed this
body is quite a lot different than my other one." I said pointedly looking
down at those huge boobs. 
	
He looked at them too, and managed a painful, knowing smile, "Yeah,
I guess so." 
	
"What I meant was, who was she? How did she do this, and who the
hell are you?" 
	
He explained. "I'll start with the easy stuff first. The girl who's
body you now wear was Denise Johnson. She was only 18 years old, and didn't
deserve the fate she got!" 
	
Inwardly I grimaced. I was only 18 years old now. I wasn't even old
enough to get a beer. The man in black pulled up a chair, and sat down in it
before continuing his story. "Anyway	
" He started. 
	
I interrupted him, gesturing to my bonds, "Do you mind?" When I did,
I again noticed the shifting weight on my chest. 
	
" No, sorry." He replied. "Flip over and I'll untie you." 
	
I did as he requested, and flipped over onto my stomach. Now I was
laying on those massive tits. It was uncomfortable. Also, a mass of long, dark
and wavy hair can across my shoulder and into my face. He started to untie me,
and wished that he would hurry up because laying on these boobs were starting
to become painful! He finished. I felt first my legs, then my arms come free.
After they were freed, I flipped around into a sitting position. I was able to
really examine my new body for the first time. 

 



CHAPTER TWO 


	 Sitting up, I had the first time to examine myself. The high neck
blouse that I was wearing had long sleeves. However, there were incredibly
fine and petite hands at the end of those sleeves. There were very long
fingernails that had a french manicure. I moved my fingers just to make
certain they were really mine! The skin was a light coffee color. It was
obvious that this Denise was a light-skinned blac woman. 

	Then there were the breasts. They stuck out like a shelf. Upon
sitting up, I could feel the weight of them on my chest pulling me forward.
Just by their and firmness, I could tell that Denise's natural breasts had
been surgically enhanced to an incredible degree. I was wearing a short black
skirt, that showed slender shapley legs encased in nylons. I didn't have any
shoes on. Very long hair hung down to my waist. The weight of the mass of hair
was constantly pulling on my scalp and neck, just as those boobs pulled at my
chest. I inspected my waist and hips as best as I could as a full view was
obstructed by those tits. The waist looked very small, as my hips looked wide.
It felt as if I was sitting on a pillow. I wondered just how big my ass was
now! 

	The man in black continued his explanation. "As I said the body you
now have belonged to Denise Johnson. As hard as this is to believe, her body
was taken over an alien." 

	 "An alien?" I said in Denise's soft soprano. 

	"That's right an alien. Aliens have been here for a very long time.
Most of them live right here in Manhatten. I belong to an agency who's job it
is to monitor all alien traffic on and off this planet. For the most part
aliens are pretty nice and co-operate with us. Every now and then one goes
rogue, and we have to haul it in. All aliens register with us. They report in
on a regular basis." 

	"If they have been here for a while, why haven't I ever seen any?" 

	 "They either use disguises, or more likely technological image
inhancers. They could be standing right beside you and not even know it." 

	"And this alien?" 

	"This is a new type that we've never seen before. They can switch
bodies. Leaving the person they switch with in the body they are leaving.
These guys have an unknown agenda. Usually when they switch, they kill they
body they just left, with the new mind in it. We haven't even found its
original body, so we don't know what it looks like. Your the first person to
survive. It was in a hurry, or else you would be dead now." 

	"Yeah, great....." I commented sarcastically. 

	"Anyway this alien made an unathorized entrance onto earth. I was on
duty, so I got sent out to check it out." 

	"WHO ARE YOU?" I asked. 

	He held his hand out to shake mine. "Agent "J" of the MIB, that
stands for Men In Black, at your service." 

	"Appropriate name." I stated looking at his clothes. I leaned
forward and shook his hand. When I did so I felt those tits jiggle and sway. I
wondered how Denise could stand this feeling. 

	"Yeah, we don't have a wide wardrobe! Where was I? Oh, yeah. So I go
to check out this landing and actually see it, in a dog's body switch bodies
with a man. Weirdest thing I ever saw. Thing is no aliens that we have records
on have ever been able to do that. When I saw it kill the dog without remorse,
I knew were dealing with a nasty species, with bad intent. It represented a
grave security risk. I had to get back to headquarters to warn the group.
Unfortunately, it got back to New York before me." 

	"What do you mean unfortunately'." 

	 "In order to get to me, and kill me before I could report back, It
took my girlfriend hosatage. A fight broke out, and tried to shoot it with my
gun. Right before I shot, It pulled a number like it did with you. It switched
into my girlfriend's body. I-I-I.....shot my girlfriend in its body. The body
of a old man......" 

	He was visibly shaken by this revelation. I didn't know what to say,
so I said nothing for a while. After a long pause, I finally asked, "What
happens now?" 

	Agent J checked the paper he was looking at before. It was a
passenger manifest. He looked up an answered. "It got on the plane in your
place. In a few hours it will be touching down in Miami. I have to get down to
Miami as soon as possible." 

	"Wait a minute, can't you get another agent down there to meet it?" 

	"No. I can't. When I shot my girlfriend, in the old man's body I
commited murder. Right now I'm wanted for murder. The MIB ordered me in to
clear it up, but I didn't. I disobeyed. I went rogue. I'm on my own. Were in a
hotel right now because I can't be seen. I took a chance as it was at the
airport. I'm going to have to drive to Miami. I can't risk flying." 

	"What about me??" I asked. 

	Agent J pulled out a rod. He pushed a button an red diodes popped
up. "This is a neuralizer. Once I push this button you"ll forget this ever
happened. About the alien, MIB..... me. I'll go on to Miami. You stay here!" 

	"You can't do that." 

	"Why not?" 

	"If you erase that stuff, I'll wake up in this body and have no
explanation. I'll have nowhere to go. Probably end up crazy and in a
sanitarium. That's not fair!" 

	"Okay. I can set it for longer, erase the full memory. You'll
essentially be an amnesiac. I'll leave you with people you'll be safe with." 

	"Safe?? Unless I miss my guess, and judging from this body, Denise
was a hooker. Probably a good one." 

	"She was. So what." 

	"So a pimp or someone comes looking for her, and I get stuck fucking
guys, and giving blow jobs. That's not fair either. I'm an innocent victim
here." 

	"What to you propose?" 

	"I come with you. I know Miami, I can be of use to you. We can find
it easier together. Force it to give me my body back." 

	"I don't know it could be dangerous. You could get hurt, or killed.
You aren't trained for this." 

	"Its my body. Whether you like it or not, I'm a part of this." 

	"Okay, Okay your in. But, you follow my rules, and do what I say.
Okay." 

	"Okay!" 

	 "Good. Let's go!" 
             _


	 CHAPTER THREE 


	Agent J extended his hand to me to help me up off of the bed where I
had first been laying, and then been sitting. Since the balance of this body
was.....wrong, I excepted his gesture. When I placed my hand in his, I was
stunned by how much bigger his hand was then mine. My entire hand fit within
his! A pang of fear gripped me as I wondered just how small I was. 

	That question was answered immediately, as Agent J pulled me to my
feet. As he did, I felt those breasts sway. Two straps, of what I imagined to
be a bra, bit into my shoulders to support their full weight against gravity.
I was now standing right beside Agent J in my bare feet. He towered over me.
As a matter of fact my eyes only came up to the level of his mid-chest. "Holy
shit, I'm short," I thought to myself. 

	"How tall are you Agent J?" I asked. 

	"About 6'2 1/2".....why do you ask?" He replied. 

	Without explanation, I then asked, "Then how tall am I now?" 

	"Denise was just over 5' tall!" Agent J stated matter-of-factly. 

	"Oh God! I exclaimed," clearly distressed. "Before this happened, I
was 6"1" tall. I could look you in the eye. Now I can only look you in the
chest." 

	Agent J grew frustrated with me. "Look we don't have time for this.
We have to get on the road right away. Its only a matter of time before the
police and the MIB find us here. We have to be long gone by then." " Look," I
snapped back. "Your not the one who has been suddenly switched into the body
of a different gender, and a different race. I at least deserve to look at
myself. Is there a mirror around here?" 

	Agent J raised one eyebrow, as well as his voice, and said, "Are you
making this a race thing?" 

	I forgot that Agent J was black. I would have to tread carefully
now. "No....believe me, no. Its just that........well you know......its
different. That doesn't bother me as much as this female body. Its constructed
like a sexual cartoon. Someone's idea of a wet dream. You have to let me get
used to the way I look before we go out, so I can act appropriately. Not
attract any attention." 

	He sighed, knowing that I was right and jerked his thumb to the
right in a motion reminiscent of hitchhiking. I followed the direction of the
thumb with my eyes and saw a full-length mirror attached to the wall. I walked
toward the mirror, and noted the strange, and pleasant sensation of walking
without anything between my legs. The freedom of movement was amazing. The
nylons slid against each other between my thighs as I walked. The only
distressing thing were these tits. They jiggled and swayed in an exaggerated
manner no matter how I moved. My upper arms brushed against the sides of those
tits as they moved. I paused for a second before I stepped in front of the
mirror. I was afraid of what the reflection may hold. I steeled myself, took a
big breath of air, and then.......finally stepped in front of the mirror to
face my new self. 

	There facing me was the image of a stunningly beautiful black woman.
She.....I had lighter coffee colored skin, but definite black facial features.
They were so much different then my normal male, Caucasian features. The nose,
though slightly thicker, and wider, was still upturned and very, very
feminine. My eyes were almond shaped with very dark brown pupils. They were so
dark they were almost black. The lips, however, were something else. They were
very thick, and extremely sensuous. They were the kind of bee-stung lips for
which women usually had collagen injected. Dark, curly hair, that looked like
it had been relaxed, framed my face, flowing down my shoulders and back to my
waist. The mass of hair was everywhere! Large hoop earrings were in the
pierced hole of each earlobe, completing the package. All in all, I resembled,
slightly, the movie star Vivica Fox, who was in that movie "Independence Day."
However, I was much smaller and infinitely bustier. 

	I reached up to touch my face. My arms and hands were obstructed by
those big boobs. I consciously had to put my arms to the side of those boobs,
rather than in front to gain access to my face. I touched my cheeks with both
hands. The reflection in the mirror did the same. My skin was so smooth. As I
ran my fingers across my skin, I could feel the long nails upon the surface.
My brain was on overload having to take in so many new, and strange,
sensations. 

	Despite those sensations, I pulled my hands away from my face to
inspect the rest of my body. The frame was slender, and lithe, except of
course those breasts. The hips flared out wide, in contrast to an extremely
narrow waist, and flat stomach. I turned to the side to inspect my rear-end,
and received my second suprise. My ass was larger, but not fat. It was firm
and very shapely, but the kind of butt that is prized on black women. No
wonder it felt like I was sittng on a pillow! 

	Finally, after delaying as long as possible, I focused my attention
to those tits. Not that I could get their ever present feeling and sensation
out of my head. You are always conscious of them, and their movement, the way
as a man I was always conscious of the feeling of a penis between my legs. It
is hard to describe. I faced front again, and cupped the beasts in each of my
hands. The reflection did as I did. I lifted them to test their weight. They
must have been about five pounds each. When I lifted them, I got a temporary
relief from the sensation of pulling on my chest. I wondered just how big my
bust was. 

	The pulling sensation was replaced by a new sensation. I felt an
urge to squeeze and fondle them. I let go of them, and felt them settle into
their previous resting place. Then I began to massage and fondle them. The
reaction was immediate! I felt two points at the ends of those boobs, which
had to be the nipples begin to tingle, and start to grow and harden. It was
not unlike the erection of a penis, but much more sensitive. It was just as
pleasurable. The nipples triggered a secondary reaction. There was a growing
discomfort, and feeling of wetness between my legs. I was totally swept away
into these feelings. 

	Agent J, who had to bear silent witness to all of this finally
spoke. "Uh......um.......do you mind? You're really starting to turn me on. I
don't think I could really stand you taking off your clothes!" 

	His voice brought me back to myself, and the situation at hand. I
looked at him. He had a real look of distress, and restraint upon his face.
Involuntarily, I don't know why, my gaze shifted downwards toward his crotch.
Agent J was in the midst of a raging hard-on. Then I thought about what I had
just been doing. To him it would have looked like a sexy woman fondling
herself; something out of a sex fantasy. His response would have been natural.
Hell, if I were still a man watching this I would have been turned-on. I
looked away quickly, and said, "Sorry!" 

	"Excuse me, I have to go to the bathroom." He responded, as he got
up and practically ran into the bathroom in obvious discomfort. 

	He was in there for a long time. However, the sounds coming from
within confirmed what I thought he must be doing. Agent J was masturbating to
relieve the pressure. He was masturbating over the sight of me playing with
this body. It made me very nervous to think that another man was fantasizing
about me, especially in this state. 

	In order to distract myself I located the shoes that accompanied
this body. They were black high-heeled pumps. I tried them on, and they fit
perfectly. As I stood there, practically on my tip toes, it struck me as
strange that my feet felt better, more natural, than with nothing on them. I
tried to walk in them, in order to get used to them. It was tough going. The
combination of the overly large breasts, small body, and high heels made it
hard to balance. Through experimentation I found that if I swayed my hips back
and forth as I walked, that it was much easier to maintain my balance. It was
kind of like a tightrope walker on a highwire that has to shift his weight
back and forth to maintain perfect balance. Oddly enough, using this method I
was able to walk fairly easily. True, the wiggling ass would attract the
attention of any guy following me, but it was a lot better than falling on my
face. 

	About the time I mastered the shoes, I heard a sigh of relief from
the bathroom. A moment later Agent J emerged with a smile on his face. "Ready
to go?" He said. 

	I thought it best not to mention what just happened, so I just
replied, "Absolutely." 




	 CHAPTER FOUR 


	Before exiting through the front door of the hotel room, Agent J
walked back into the bathroom, and turned the shower on. He must have turned
on only the hot water, because steam came billowing out of the bathroom. The
next thing he did was to turn the television onto "Headline News" and mess up
the bed to make it look like it had been slept in. The last thing he did was
to call the front desk and put in a "wake up call" request for 7:00 o'clock
a.m. He used the name "Will Smith." 

	I looked at him curiously. He must have sensed the questions in my
mind because he began to explain, without urging, "Its a decoy. By now the
authorities and MIB are closing in. The already may have us closed in. I
purposely registered here with one of my "cover" identities to lure them in.
They monitor all credit card transactions. I don't want to tip them we're
leaving by checking out. This noise, and the shower running may by us a few
extra seconds to get to the car." 

	"Can't they trace the car too?" I asked. 

	"Its unmarked. I used one of my sources when I was an ordinary NY
cop, to get an untraceable car. We'll be okay. Now remember, when we go out
through the lobby, you have to act the part. You have to act like a woman. Not
only that, given the body you wear, you'll have to act like a whore." 

	"I don't know if I can do that." 

	"Don't think about it. If you want to get your own body back just
imitate how you've seen other hookers act. Just hang onto my arm and you'll be
okay." 

	With those instructions, we left the hotel room and stepped into the
hallway. The number on the door was 817. From the decor, I knew we were in the
Helmsley Palace, in downtown Manhattan. I looked up at Agent J, and said
sarcastically, "You spared no expense for me." 

	In an effort to lighten the mood from our dire circumstances, he
smiled and said, "Compliments of the MIB!" 

	We took a few more steps toward the elevator, and then Agent J spoke
again. "The first problem is figuring out what to call you. Matthew or Matt
doesn't quite work anymore." 

	"Well I'm not used to the name Denise, and there's a good chance I
won't respond if you call me that. How about just referring to me by my last
name "Waters"? Its nondescript, and I'll respond to it. Besides, it has a
secret agent feel to it." 

	"Works for me." Agent J answered. "However, until we get safely into
the car you ARE Denise. She's been in here before, and the hotel personnel
know her." 

	"How do you know so much about her?" 

	"When I was a cop she got into a few scrapes, and I helped her out.
A sweet kid really. She was just a little misguided, and got in with the wrong
crowd. She was trying to get out of it, and get her life back on track, when
the alien got her." 

	Changing the subject, I queried, "What do I call you?" 

	"Anything but Agent J. You can call me either Will or Smith." 

	Suddenly, the elevator opened up. We both got in, and fortunately,
it was empty. Agent J, I mean Will pushed the button for the lobby. We both
watched the numbers count down until it got to the "L" for lobby. Before the
door opened, I positioned myself right beside him, and clutched his right arm,
like a woman possessing her man. Will nodded. The elevator opened showing the
lobby of the Helmsley Palace. 

	We strode out from the elevator into the lobby. He spied the front
door and began to steer us toward it, and ultimately into the street beyond. I
made a conscious effort to wiggle my ass, to give credibility to the hooker I
was playing. I also leaned my head over, and rested it upon Will's shoulder. I
was trying to give the effect of a satisfied woman! 

	I thought the ruse was working until about halfway to the door we
were intercepted by the concierge. He looked nervously all around him, as if
he were being overheard by someone and said, "Is everything O.K. Mr. Smith?
Some of your associates were just here asking for you. I believe they just
went up on the elevator to your room." 

	At the same time, Will and I looked at the elevator. The indicator
at the top showed that the left elevator had stopped on the 8th floor. Time
was of the essence now. Without even skipping a beat, Will addressed the
concierge. "Yes. I've been expecting them. They should have been here an hour
ago. I mean I got this here whore for entertainment and everything." 

	He pinched my ass and said, "Isn't that right Denise?" 

	The ball was now in my court. I replied in the sweetest voice I
could muster, "That's right baby. Money's all the same to me. All's ya get is
one hour. I don't care how many cocks I gotta suck in that hour." 

	We both looked at the concierge. He "harumphed" in a snooty tone of
voice, and stated "Yes...uh....very good sir. Just as long is everything is
okay. We don't want any trouble here." 

	"No trouble Jeeves, " answered Will. "I'm just going to see the lady
to a cab, and I'll be right back." 

	"Shall I send a bellboy to tell your guests, Sir?" 

	"No. That won't be necessary. I'll be right back." Will then looked
at me and said, "Hey Denise, how about giving "Big Will" some sugar?" 

	Damn! I wish he wouldn't keep doing that, but I had to play along. I
grabbed Will by the tie, and pulled his head down towards mine so that our
lips brushed. If I hesitated, all would be lost, so I planted a big kiss on
Will. To make it as realistic as possible, I closed my eyes, and opened my
mouth. I felt him play along, so I slipped my tounge into his mouth. I was
actually French kissing ANOTHER GUY!!!! Not only that, a BLACK GUY!!! I choked
down a gag, and let my tongue dance with his. All of a sudden my knees felt
weak. A shiver went up my spine. My toes curled inside those pumps. I felt
that sensation I felt once before of hardening nipples, and wetness. The urge
to gag subsided. It was Will who finally broke away. He looked at me with a
look of suprise. 

	I collected myself in time to hear the concierge say, "Please Sir,
not in the lobby. Perhaps you can escort your "lady" to the cab." 

	That was just the opening we needed. We carried the act all the way
out to Will's car. We made it. A narrow escape! We practically dove into the
car. He turned the motor over, and we roared out of the parking lot into the
night. 




	 CHAPTER FIVE 


	It wasn't until we were safely away until Will spoke again. I didn't
want to disturb his concentration so I stayed absolutely quiet. I managed to
stay quiet despite the array of renewed, and new, sensations that I was
feeling. 

	First of all, the feel of the shoulder belt crossing my chest
between my boobs, only intensified my attention to those protuberances. The
thrill of the danger made my body all "tingly" and the wet feeling in my
crotch had returned with a vengeance. It would not subside. The new sensation
was an insidious itch that was also coming from my crotch. I had no idea what
could be causing that. 

	Most of all, I couldn't get out of my mind that, back in the lobby,
for just an instant, I had lost control while I kissed the man seated beside
me in the driver's side. I was trying hard to forget it. However, the harder I
tried, the more I thought about it. The scene kept playing over and over in my
mind. I told myself repeatedly, that it was just a role that I had played. I
hadn't felt anything, especially toward a black man. It was all my
imagination! I had just about put it out of my mind when Will asked, "What was
with that kiss back there?" 

	I responded, "What do you mean? You asked for "sugar." You put me
into that position. What was I supposed to do? I just acted it out as you told
me to do." 

	"Well, you did an excellent job. You even had me convinced. For a
second there, I thought that you really meant it." 

	"You're imagining things. I was just following orders." 

	"Alright......fine." He said sternly, resuming his official
demeanor. 

	Sensing the change, I changed the subject. "So, where are we now?" 

	"Just outside the city. I'm going to hook up with I-95, and start
heading south. I figure if we go straight through it will take us about 30
hours to reach Miami. Between now and then, we need to figure out why the
alien took the flight to Miami in your place. There's got to be something
there it wants, or needs. I just wish I knew. Anyway, you should get some
sleep. You've had a rather traumatic night, and you're going to need your
rest." 

	"Don't you want me to stay up, and help drive?" 

	"No....no. I'm fine. Wide awake, and we have enough gas to get us
through the night. We have a couple of problems we need to discuss, but it can
wait until tomorrow. You just get some sleep. Besides, I need time to think,
and figure out our next move." 

	"Okay, but wake me if you need me." 

	He didn't respond, but only nodded. I glanced at the digital clock
in the car. It read 2:05 o'clock a.m. I had been awake nearly 24 hours, and I
was exhausted. I kicked off the shoes, and stretched out as best I could.
Within 5 minutes, I was fast asleep. However, in that brief period between
slumber and wakefulness, I had to scratch that damned itch in my crotch. I
didn't care if Agent J saw it or not! 

	I was awakened by that same need to scratch the itch. There was also
the feeling of a full bladder and the dire need to urinate. I felt queasy in
my stomach. The need to urinate felt different then what I had experienced as
a guy. As a guy, that sensation is centered in the penis, almost away from the
body. This.....this felt internal to the body. I felt like there was no way to
control it, to hold it. As discretely as possible, I rolled to my right and
scratched the groin itch. 

	Agent J saw that I was awake and said, "Well good morning
Pe.........Denise
	..uh, I mean Waters. How are you doing?" 

	I could see that it was now daylight. I reached up with my right
hand to wipe the sleep out of my eyes, and the hair out of my face. I was
reminded again that I was a woman. Not only was my hand and arm obstructed by
those tits, but I poked a long fingernail into the crease of my eye. This body
was certainly awkward. How did women make everything seem so graceful with so
many parts moving around at the same time? 

	Groggily, I remarked, I feel sick, and if we don't find a bathroom
right away, I'm gonna piss all over your seat. I'm not sure I can hold it." 

	Agent J smiled in spite of himself. "Just relax. We're near a town.
I have to stop anyway for gas. Perhaps we can get something to eat, and that
will calm your stomach." 

	"I hope. Just hurry will you!!! Where are we anyway?" The clock in
the car read 8:42 o'clock a.m. I had been asleep for almost 7 hours. 

	"Were at the southern border of Virginia. I thought it best not to
stop in a major city, but hit a small town. Its harder to track us that way." 

	"You're the expert. Please HURRY!" I couldn't hold this any longer. 

	He pulled off of the highway at an exit for Hickston Junction.
Fortunately, there was a diner about 100 yards off of the exit, and beside
that, a gas station. Agent J pulled into the gravel parking lot of the "Midway
Diner," and parked the car. The parking lot was fairly full for such an out of
the way place. He exited the driver's side door, as I began to unbuckle the
seat belt, and shoulder harness. I reached for the door handle to exit my
side, when the door suddenly opened itself. Standing outside was Agent J, who
had opened the door for me! I gave him a "What the hell are you doing" look. 

	It dawned on him what he had done, and he said sheepishly, "Sorry,
force of habit." 

	"Well don't get used to it. I am NOT a woman, despite how I look. I
plan on getting my own body back." 

	"For the purpose of this stop you ARE a woman, DENISE. Do you
understand me." Agent J had to make a point out of stressing the name
"Denise." 

	I tried to get up and out of the car on my own. I tried to walk
across the gravel parking lot in those high heels. I couldn't. First of all, I
had reverted back to my old way of walking. I shifted to the swivel I had used
in the hotel lobby. That helped somewhat, but not enough. I was forced to hang
onto Agent J's arm. He smiled an "I told you so" kind of smile. 

	We managed to navigate the gravel parking lot to the diner. I had to
go slow or else I would have pissed in my pants.....or rather panties. We
entered the diner, and we must have looked to all of the world like a nice
young black couple. The problem was we were in the "sticks". Redneck country!
The diner was full, but there wasn't any other black people. There were all
farmers, and truckers, and white trash. The kind that would belong to the
klan!! This wasn't going to be fun. 

	Agent J managed to find a booth. All eyes were staring at us, me in
particular. With this body what else would they be staring at? I looked around
the diner and located a sign that said "Restrooms." I started to make my way
toward them when Agent J asked, gesturing toward the menu, "What do you want?" 

	"I don't know....just order me something. I'll be right back." 

	As I walked toward he bathroom, all eyes followed me. It made me
self-conscious of how my ass was moving, and how my tits were bouncing with
each step. I got to the restrooms, and out of habit started to push in the
door to the mens' room. As I did a rather large, overweight, and dirty trucker
was exiting. He saw me and said, "Do ya mind lady? This here's the mens' room,
and you ain't no man with those guns.' Unless of course you're meanin' to go
in there for other reasons!!!" He winked at me. 

	"No, sorry my mistake. I just took a wrong turn." 

	"That's a darn shame," he replied. "Well if ya want to give me some
of that brown sugar, I'll be at the counter." 

	I didn't want the conversation to go any further, so I practically
dove into the ladies room. Due to the urgency of my bodily needs, I didn't
have time to appreciate the difference in decor between a mens' room and a
ladies' room. I quickly found the stall. Once inside the stall the next
problem I faced was how to get the skirt down. I couldn't find any zippers or
snaps. Then I remembered that women's' skirts often zip in the back. I reached
around with one hand, and located the zipper. I tried to undo it with one
hand, but could not, due to the long nails. I reached around with the other
hand, and after some fumbling, managed to get the damn thing undone. The only
distressing thing was that, as I reached around with both arms, it forced my
chest out into the bra. I thought for a second that it was going to burst!! 

	The bra held. I pulled down the skirt, and pantyhose. All that was
left was a g-string. I pulled that down too, avoiding looking at my genitals.
I did note, rather pointedly the feeling of the "string" coming out of the
cleft of my butt cheeks. As soon as I sat down, warm liquid flowed out of me.
What a strange feeling! In this case, taking a leak was a good description. It
wasn't at all like urinating like a man. There was no direction control or
anything. It just kind of came out of you. One thing was the same, the sense
of relief after avoiding an emergency! 

	Now that I had relieved myself, I actually had to look at my crotch
in order to clean myself up. The thighs were breathtaking: smooth, soft, and
very, very shapely. I directed my attention to my new genitals. When I did, I
knew in a second why I had such an overwhelming itch. Denise had shaved her
pussy!! 


            
                                       
                            
	 CHAPTER SIX 

  
	My heart sank. I got a lump in my throat. Was there no end to the
 humiliation that I was to suffer in this perverse, obscene body. Judging from
  the big trucker at the bathroom door, every man, black or white, wanted to
 stick his cock inside this body. I just was not ready to be an object of lust
                         for every red-blooded male. 
 
	I ran my fingertips over my mons venus. It was soft, and so smooth,
 like a baby's bottom. There was just the slightest hint of stubble from pubic
   hair beginning to grow back. That was why I was so itchy. The feel of my
 feather light fingertips across the mound, got that area to tingling. Again I
  felt the nipples of my breasts begin to swell. I didn't like where this was
                                    going. 
  
	I grabbed a few sheets of toilet paper to wipe of the droplets of
 urine from the my genital area. The feel of the soft tissue across the outer
    lips of my vagina was electric. I was desperately trying to avoid these
sensations, and the urge growing within this body. As I was wiping, the toilet
  paper got caught on something. I attempted to pull it away and felt a snag,
 pulling out the outer lips to my vagina. I tried to look out over my tits, to
 see what it was, but could not. Instead, I reached down with my other hand to
  see what it was. "Oh God," I thought to myself as I felt where my labia had
  been pierced, and there was a small ring there through. I felt myself flush
        with embarrassment. I actually felt the need to start crying. 

	I felt in and around the area that was pierced. It did not cause any
  pain. In fact, I could pull on the ring, and pull out the lips of my pussy
     without any discomfort. However, my poking and prodding and fondling,
 triggered a pressure in my loins that required a release. I could take it no
   longer. In one motion I slipped the middle finger of my left hand into my
vagina. A wave of pleasure, from being penetrated washed over my body, sending
  a shiver up my spine. The feelings from my clitoris attracted my fingertip
 like radar. The feeling of a pearl upon my finger was not new. The feeling on
   the other end of my pearl being touched nearly sent me through the roof.
  Another wave of sheer pleasure washed over me. As it did I let out a soft,
                             breathless, "Oooh." 
    
	The intensity of the sensations made my finger move faster. I
circled my clitoris, lightly brushing it every now and then. My breathing grew
  heavier, moving in time with the rhythm of my finger. With each beat of my
                     heart, I let out another breathless,
"Oh
	
	..oh
	
	...oh." Still the pressure kept
  building. I wanted to stop this horror, but was powerless to do so. Without
    warning I was caught up in the wave of a female orgasm. My back arched,
 pushing my chest out. Two buttons popped on my blouse, as a I simultaneously
 cried, a little bit louder than my moans, "Ooooooooh. Goooooood." I pulled my
 finger out of my pussy, and gripped the side of the toilet, as I was wracked
                      with aftershock after aftershock. 
    
	In a few minutes, my breathing returned to normal. The orgasm
  subsided. It is impossible to describe how the orgasm felt. Men just don't
  have a frame of reference. As a guy, my orgasm was centered on my cock. But
 this involved every nerve, and every cell of my body. It was 100 times better
  than anything I had ever felt as a guy. I had to use toilet paper to clean
myself up again. This time, instead of urine, it was female juices. I finished
                          up, and got dressed again. 
 
	I pushed open the stall door. There leaning on the sink was one of
 the waitresses of the diner. I had not heard her come in. It was obvious from
the huge smirk on her face that she had heard everything. I felt myself blush.
   However, with the dark color of my skin, I wasn't sure it would show. The
  waitress entered the stall. I heard her take some toilet paper and wipe off
 the toilet, as if it had germs. I ignored it, and stared at my reflection in
the mirror. I would never get used to my image as a beautiful black woman. Now
   a beautiful disheveled black woman! I fixed myself up as best as I could,
 rebuttoning the two buttons that had popped. Checking my reflection one more
   time, I nodded it was enough. I left the ladies room to rejoin Agent J. 



 

	 CHAPTER SEVEN 


	I came back from the bathroom, and eased myself into the booth
opposite Agent J. The food that he had ordered was already there. As I sat
down, I noticed how high the table came up at me now. I tried very hard not to
look him in the eye, for fear that he may guess what I just did in the ladies'
room. 

	"What took you so long? I was just about to send out a rescue
party!" Agent J asked. 

	In an irritated tone of voice I whispered, "Look, you may, or may
not have, noticed that I am a woman now!!! I'm kind of unfamiliar with the
equipment, you know. FORGIVE ME if it took a little extra time!!!" I looked
around to see if anyone overheard me. I spied the big trucker, who had
harassed me, seated at the counter. He was STARING at me. 

	"Sorry, sorry. I didn't mean to anger you. I was just concerned
that's all. This isn't exactly what you would call an integrated restaurant. I
can imagine that it would be hard for you." 

	"You have no IDEA, what its like to be stuck in this cartoon of a
body." 

	"Well, anyway, whatever you did in there, you look a lot better. You
have this glow, or sheen about you." 

	"What did you order me?" I said, quickly changing the subject. 

	He replied, "Just the basics: scrambled eggs, toast, bacon, and
coffee. I didn't know what you liked." 

	"This will do fine." I said, as I picked up a fork, and poked them
into the scrambled eggs. The truth was that the sight of food was making my
stomach do flip-flops. I opted for the coffee, black. Continuing the
conversation, I asked Agent J, "What is our next move anyway?" 

	"That's one of the things we have talk about. There's no easy way to
put this but......we're almost out of money. We have just about enough to pay
for this meal, get some different clothes, and get to Jacksonville, Florida." 

	I had finished about half of my coffee, and was now playing with the
eggs. "Can't we use credit cards?" I queried. 

	"No. The computer keeps track of all credit card charges. It'd be
too easy to track us. We have to stay cash only. Right now we're cash poor." 

	"Didn't Denise have a purse? Come to think of it, I haven't seen her
purse. Have you seen it?" 

	"Its in the car. I already took all of the cash out that was in
there. Nice thought though." 

	"Oh
	." 

	"I have a friend in Jacksonville, who may be able to help us. Not a
friend really, but an informant, who moved to Florida and owes me a favor. 

	Out of the corner of my eye I noticed that the waitress who had
overheard me in the restroom had returned. I turned my head to look at her,
feeling my long hair swing, and brush against the back of my neck. She was
behind the counter where the big trucker was. She was leaned forward saying
something to that trucker. I looked back at Agent J. "Why do we have to get
new clothes? These seem just fine, and it would seem to be a waste of money." 

	"Think about it. We were seen together leaving in these clothes.
We're a real easy description right now. We have to ditch these clothes and
get others. Don't worry, it shouldn't cost us that much money. We're going to
find a Goodwill or Salvation Army. We should be able to trade these clothes
straight up. Once we get some more money, we'll actually have to do more to
change our looks. Unfortunately, its going to be hard to hide that body of
yours." 

	"Thanks.......I needed that." I snapped, dropping my fork. 

	 "I'm not trying to be mean, just stating a fact." 

	"Well....have you figured out what the alien is after at least?" 

	"No, not yet. What could be in Miami?" 

	"I don't know." I replied. 

	We just looked at each other blankly. Finally, Agent J stated, "Just
finish your breakfast and we'lll get out of this place. We'll figure it out
later." 

	I finally worked myself up to taking a few bites of the eggs. The
feeling of something in my stomach helped a little bit. Agent J started to
read a newspaper that he had bought. He had the paper up in front of his face,
between us. His head looked like it was buried in the newspaper. The way Agent
J was holding the paper, it allowed me to read the headlines on the front
page. I scanned the stories, and saw in a little box a small headline which
read: "White House confirms First Lady's luncheon in Miami." It then hit me
all at once. I ripped the paper out of Agent J's hand and pointed to the
story. I said, "Will, here... look at this......this may be something!" 

	He read the story quickly and remarked, "Yeah, so? I don't see the
connection?" 

	"I was supposed to go to that luncheon. I was supposed to sit at the
head table." 

	Agent J's eyes widened. "Its going to switch with the First Lady.
Then........., oh SHIT........ The President. This could be the prelude to an
invasion. A second's delay by the President in reacting to such an invasion
would mean sure defeat. It means to undermine our response from within!!!!" 

	"But how could it have known that I was supposed to be there before
it switched with me?" 

	"It probably didn't. My guess is that once it switchs it can access
your memories. It recognized something it could use, and got on the plane. It
probably came here with the same goal, but planned to just switch at random
until it found somone it could use to get close to its target." 

	"It has my full memories?" 

	"That's right. Its probably living your life right now as you." 

	"Oh my God!!!!" Suddenly I did burst out in tears. What was
HAPPENING to me? I sobbed, "I'm never going to get back to my old body." 

	Agent J didn't know how to react to a man suddenly in a woman's body
crying his eyes out. All he could say was, "Please....try and concentrate.
When is the luncheon?" 

	I said, between sobs, "Its...its...its...on Thu-Thursday." 

	"Good, we have a few days." He responded standing up. "You finish up
here. I'm going to the bathroom. When I get back we'll get out of here, and
get back on the road." 

	With that, he slipped out of the booth, and walked down the aisle
toward the restrooms. I took a few more bites, looking at my plate, and
mulling over the thought I may NEVER get back to my own body. I may be this
object of lust for the rest of my life. That thought made me even queasier
than before. I dropped my fork on the plate with a "CLANK." 

	Suddenly, I was aware of a presence to my left. I turned to look,
and saw the trucker standing at the edge of the table, towering over me. He
looked first at my chest, then at my face, before saying, "Are you ready to
let me taste some of that brown sugar darlin'." 

	Where was Agent J when I needed him? I was going to have to handle
this situation on my own without inciting anyone. So, I said, "Look, Sir I
don't want any trouble. I'm just passing through with my .......boyfriend.
He'll be back in a second. No offense but I'm really not interested. I'm
faithful to my....boyfriend....and besides, your not my type." 

	The trucker jerked his finger towards the counter, where the
waitress was standing. "That's not what Sharon over there says. She says that
after ya spoke ta me, an' I called ya out, ya went into the ladies's room
there an' did yerself. Sounds ta me like ya got a thing for ole' Gus here." 

	Oh no! That's what she was telling "Gus." I was trapped. I
stammered, "I.......I........ didn't
	it
wasn't
	.no........its not like tha
	
	" 

	I didn't have a chance to finish before "Gus" interupted, "Why don'
you an' I take a little ride in my truck there Honey." 

	"NO!" I said as firmly as I could trying to put my foot down. It
only sounded weak, and powerless. WHERE WAS AGENT J? 

	"Gus" grabbed me by my wrist with his huge sweaty hand and yanked me
to my feet. With an expression filled with menace, he blurted, "I ain't askin'
missy, I'm tellin'." 

	Before I could scream, he put the other big sweaty hand over my
mouth, silencing me. He shifted the hand that was on my wrist to around my
waist, and under my boobs. I could feel my tits resting on his forearm. "Gus"
lifted me off of my feet with ease, and headed toward the door. The rest of
the people in the diner either ignored what was happening, or simply looked
away to avoid what was happening. I tried to struggle, and kick my feet to get
away. It was no use. He was just too strong for me!!!! 

	The trucker carried me to his semi-cab kicking and struggling all
the way. When we got there he set me down on my feet. Before he let me go, he
directed, "I'm gonna let ya go now, and take my hand offa yer mouth. If ya
know what's good fer ya, ya won't scream. I'd hafta hurt ya real bad. If ya
wanna, live you be quiet!! Do ya unnerstand?" 

	I nodded my head up and down in assent. J would be here any second.
All I had to do was stall for time. He took his hand off of my waist, and off
of my mouth. I took a step away from him. He gave me a "Not one step further"
look, and I stopped in my tracks. He was gigantic compared to my current size.
I couldn't outrun him in this body. "Gus" grabbed a roll of duct tape and
commanded, "Turn around." 

	I was going to be tied up again. I had no choice but to do as he
said. However, I warned him, "You'd better let me go. My boyfriend will find
me, and you'll be sorry. He's a cop. If you know what's good for you, you'll
just release me!" 

	He ripped off a big piece of duct tape, and put it over my mouth. I
could no longer talk. He spat out, clearly irritated, "shaddup, nigger
bitch!!! Yer boyfriend ain't gonna save ya. I sent a couple a boys in there to
take care of his black ass. We don' like spooks like you around these here
parts. You should worry about yerself!!!" 

	My eyes widened in horror. He grabbed both of my wrists and taped
them together. I tried to move away, but "Gus" grabbed my wrist, and pulled me
back. With the other hand he opened the door of the cab. I was lifted easily
into the cab. The door was slammed in my face. I looked around for something,
anything to help. However, a few seconds latter, the door to the driver's side
opened, and "Gus" pulled himself in. He fired up the truck, and eased us out
of the parking lot onto the road. I looked out of my window back at the diner
for Agent J, a rescue. There was no one. Tears sprang into my eyes. 

	We were on the road no more than a few minutes before "Gus" turned
on the C.B. He grabbed the handset with his right hand "BigDog to Smokehouse.
BigDog to Smokehouse. Come in Smokehouse." " Bzzzzt." 

	The response was immediate. "Bzzzt." "Smokehouse here. Go ahead
Bigdog." 

	"Gus" spoke into the hand set. "Yeah BigDog here. I got me a brown
betty here. Real purty one too. Lips made for suckin' dick." 

	My heart really sank now. "Gus" continued, "Wait'll ya see these
huge melons she got man. They are gigantic." With that he put the handset in
his lap and reached toward me. I tried to move away, but had nowhere to go. He
put his palm on my left tit, and squeezed it. I shook my head "no." I didn't
help. 

	I was really crying now. "Gus" picked up the handset and continued,
"Unless I miss my guess, Smokehouse I got me a first class whore here. I think
we get her goin', she'll be happy to do us all........." 

	I stopped crying for a second. It dawned on me that when they saw my
shaved pussy and pierced labia it would be all over. 

	"
	...round up the boys, and get to the meetin' place. The
klan has a job ta do!!!!!!" 




	CHAPTER EIGHT 


	Gus, and about 10 of his friends tied me to a tree. My arms went
back behind me, and were bound by a nylon cord around the girth of the tree. I
was placed into a kneeling position. My arm position made my chest thrust out
making my tits look even BIGGER! 

	After I was secured to the tree, Gus ripped off the duct tape from
my mouth with one swipe of his hand. It hurt like hell, and I let out a weak
sounding whimper. I just couldn't cry anymore 

	"Ya can yell all ya want now missy. We're in the middle of nowhere.
Ain't no one ta hear ya, 'cept me an' the boys. Ain't gonna do ya no good!" He
said. 

	"Please Gus," I pleaded. "Let me go. This isn't right. I'm not who
you think I am." 

	The rest of Gus's companions disappeared into the forest, which
surrounded the clearing we were in. Now Gus and I were alone. I was in the
kneeling position, while he was standing, or more accurately, towering, over
me in triumph. 

	"Ya don' remember me do ya?" queried Gus. 

	"No." I could only reply, weakly. 

	"Bout two months ago me an' one o' my buddies took us a road trip to
the Big Apple. We was approached by a pimp who promised us a good time with
some sweet black meat. Now, I don' go that way, but my buddy does. He took 'im
up on the offer. It was you!!!! Ya did my buddy for hours, even took 'im in
the ass. He said ya was the best damned fuck he ever had. I always regretted I
didn't do ya. Guess luck's on my side, ain't it?" 

	"I'm not her
	.." I cried, wide-eyed. 

	"Well, were gonna find out fer sure. I 'member my buddy toll me
there was a real special thing 'bout that whore. She had herself a shaved and
pierced pussy. Now if ya do......then we'll know ya were her" 

	"No
	.no
	..no
	..no
	...." I moaned
over and over again. 

	I was trapped by this body, and now would have to endure a horrible
fate. I looked around to see if I could find a means or way of escape. It was
just me, tied, kneeling, tied to a tree, in the clearing of a forest. I
struggled against my bonds, to no avail. 

	"HELP
	...HELP ME
	..PLEASE!" I yelled out as loud
as loud as I could in my high soft feminine voice. "HELP!" I sounded just like
an hysterical woman in distress. 

	There was no response. 

	A few minutes later, the men returned in white robes, and white
hoods, showing only the eyes. The white robes were marked with the insignia of
the Ku Klux Klan. In front, lower part of each robe, I saw a slit or cut near
where the groin would be. In each and every one of the men, through the slit
was a fully erect cock. 

	"No." I whimpered and moaned again. "Please this is a
mistake......... " 

	"Brother Gus, "Intoned one of the hooded men, clearly the leader.
"Check her and see if she is the one who you told us about. " 

	Another hooded figure strode forth. I could tell from his dimensions
underneath the robe that it was my captor Gus. Through the slit on the robe
was an extremely large cock, perhaps nine inches, and was very thick. He
walked up to me, and reached out a hand toward me. I tried to move away,
struggle this way and that, to prevent him from touching me. 

	Gus's hand grabbed a hand full of my long hair on the back of my
head. I couldn't move any longer. When I tried to struggle I felt searing pain
in my head and scalp. Now that he had me immobilized, Gus reached out to me
with his other hand. 

	"Nooooooooo........." I continued to moan, weaker now because I knew
it was useless. 

	With deliberate slowness, Gus forced his hand down the inside of my
skirt, inside the pantyhose and panties. My eyes widened in horror as I felt
his big hand feel and caress my shaved pubis. I felt the still unfamiliar
feeling of my nipples begin to swell, as my body involuntarily responded to
the touch of a man. 

	"Oh God, no." I whispered even weaker. "Please someone help me. " 

	No one moved, except for Gus's hand which explored even lower. I
felt him finger the lips of my pussy, and locate my piercing. He played with
it for a few seconds. I felt an instant pressure and wetness in my crotch.
This body
	my body was reacting as any woman would to such
stimulation. Then all of a sudden I felt his big, meaty finger slip beyond the
lips of my pussy in to the vaginal cavity. 

	"Ooooooooooh," was all I could moan. 

	Gus pulled his hand out and released my hair. He backed away as he
said, "Its her alright. Its that nigger whore, ah toll ya'll about. She's all
lubricated up n' ready to go!" 

	The leader spoke next. "Then we shall await no longer. Our
brotherhood demands a sacrifice, and to set an example to any darkies who
would invade our territory. She will be that example. We shall all take her in
turn. Gus, it is you who brought this tasty black bitch. It is you who shall
be the first to taste the reward. " 

	Gus strode forth again. He and his cock were right in front of my
face. He said in appreciation to his leader, "Damn straight! " 

	I was scared speechless in terror. Another robed man stepped forward
and grabbed the hair on the back of my head, immobilizing me again. 

	"Where do ya want it Gus?" The new man said. 

	Gus didn't answer, merely reached out with both hands, grabbed a
portion of my blouse on each side, and ripped it open with one motion. I
couldn't look down, but could tell from the air hitting my chest, that my
tits, in the bra were now exposed to the world. I heard "oooohs" and
"aaaaaahs" from the other men gathered around. 

	Gus didn't stop there. I felt him fumble around my boobs. Suddenly,
I felt the cups of the bra fall away, and my boobs swing free. I felt them
jiggle and sway, even more then they did before, with every movement. 

	I heard more "oooooohs"and "aaaaaahs" from the assembled men. I
heard one of them say, "Man, I can't wait to suck those melons! " 

	Another replied, "When its my turn, I'm a gonna fuck her between
those tits. Cum on her face" 

	"Well, Gus?" questioned the man holding my hair. 

	Gus responded, "In the mouth. " 

	I tried to struggle again, but the man holding my hair reached down
with his other hand, and forced my mouth open. I couldn't move. Gus took one
more step forward. With one free hand he forced his large erect penis down to
an angle more accommodating to penetration. With one thrust of his hips, he
forced the entire length into my mouth, down my throat. 

	I could smell the musky odor of his sweaty crotch in my nose. I
could feel the girth slide along my tongue, past my teeth and into my throat.
It forced my tiny mouth open even wider. I tried to gag, but couldn't. I tried
to yell out, but all that came out was a muffled "mmmppphhhh! " 

	Gus continued to pull his cock in and out of my mouth faster and
faster. He was fucking my face. 

	My mind reeled. I was close to a complete nervous breakdown. I
couldn't even think anymore. My male mind rebelled against what was happening
to me, shutting down, and retreating to the smallest corner of my brain. It
was replaced with a rush, like wildfire, of female hormones. 

	My nipples were so hard they hurt. My panties were sopping wet. I
stopped trying to struggle. My head began to move forward to meet each of
Gus's thrusts. I felt the other man release my head and hair. It allowed me to
meet Gus's thrusts with even greater freedom. He even stopped thrusting.
Somewhere, somehow, we crossed the threshold between being fucked in the face
and blow job. I was now moaning softly, and giving Gus a blow job. 

	I heard a man in the crowd say, "Shoot, look at her nipples. She is
really turned on. " 

	Another one said, "Man look at her go. The bitchy is exactly like
Gus said she'd be" 

	Hearing me being called "bitch", and with the pronouns "she" and
"her" turned me on even more. 

	I felt Gus grow stiffer still in my mouth. My boobs bounced up and
down with each bob of my head. I liked the feeling. The only thing I could
think of was how much I wanted his cock; how much I wanted his cum in my
mouth. I could tell from my previous experience as a man that he was close. I
felt his cock start to spasm.. 

	All of a sudden I heard a big "Thud." Gus began to fall backward,
pulling his cock out of my mouth. The organ escaped with a big wet "POP" as I
tightened my lip muscles to try to keep him in. Gus was still where he fell,
unconscious. 

	Agent J appeared to my left with a stick in one hand, and a gun in
the other. His clothes were torn, like he had been in a fight. The sight of
Agent J brought back my male mind from the corner from which it had been
hiding. In another second I remembered what I had been doing, what I had felt,
and, most of all, what I had wanted. It was too much for me to handle, as I
instantly went into a state of shock. 

	Nothing going on around me made any sense. I didn't know who I was,
or even where I was. There was a big black man with a gun. He chased off some
other men in white robes. The black man untied me and picked me up into his
arms. He was carrying me somewhere. I put my arms around his neck and held on
for dear life. 

	I thought I'd lost you
	...again." I heard him say. 

	"Again??" What was he talking about. 

	We got to a car. He placed me tenderly into the passenger seat, and
then disappeared. He then reappeared on the driver's side. 

	"Waters?" I heard him ask. 

	I looked at him. The man was holding some strange object with a
blinking red light. The red light flared. I felt myself passing out, as
blackness claimed me. 



 

	CHAPTER NINE 


	 I awoke again. I instantly sensed that I was in a moving car. How
did I get here? The last thing that I remembered was being in that diner, and
Agent J going to the bathroom. After that.....there was nothing! No matter how
hard I searched my memory, there was just nothing there. 

	 I looked down at myself. I was still an extremely voluptuous black
woman. Something had changed, however. My high neck blouse was ripped open in
front, and showed other tears. It revealed my deep cleavage in a sheer lace
bra. It was the first time I had actually seen the flesh of my boobs. They
looked so soft, like creamy milk chocolate. 

	 I looked over at Agent J. His clothes were also ripped and torn.
Something HAD happened, I just didn't know what. 

	 Agent J noticed that I was awake and commented, "ah....back to the
land of the living, I see. " 

	 "Where are we? " I asked him, my voice still sounding strange in my
ears. 

	 "We're almost to Jacksonville. Its just up ahead. " 

	 "Damn, what time is it anyway? " 

	 "Its about 7:30 at night. " 

	 "I've been out almost 12 hours?!? What happened to me? " I
exclaimed, now with a very concerned look upon my face. "I don't remember
anything. Something must have happened, because both of our clothes are pretty
torn up. " 

	 As Agent J turned to speak to me, his eyes kept drifting down to my
chest. It occured to me that my prominent cleavage was now exposed for the
world to see. I drew the sides of the blouse together to restrict Agent J's
view. I didn't want him to jerk off over the sight of me again. I really
couldn't handle that right now. I needed to know why I was missing 12 hours of
time. 

	 Agent J sensed my discomfort, and looked away nervously, like a
school boy getting caught doing something he shouldn't. At the same time, he
handed me his black suit jacket to cover myself up. I turned to my right so he
wouldn't see my tits bouncing up and down, and slipped the coat on as quickly
as possible. The jacket swallowed me whole. I was able to pull the lapels of
the jacket together with plenty of room to spare. You could have probably fit
another of me in there. The sleeves went well past my diminutive hands. 

	 "You don't remember anything? " He asked, trying hard not to look
me in the eyes. I had a bad feeling about all of this. 

	 Again, I searched my memory to no avail. "No nothing! " I answered
him back. I was growing very frustrated. For some reason I felt very irritable
and edgy. A dull headache was beginning to come on. 

	 "Good. It wasn't very pretty back there, " Agent J said, still
staring straight ahead. The City of Jacksonville skyline appeared to our left. 

	 "WHAT HAPPENED??? " I demanded angrily. I suprised myself. This
wasn't like me at all. I was normally a very even-tempered person. Something
was VERY wrong. 

	 "Okay, okay. Just calm down. When I came back from the bathroom,
the trucker and a couple of his pals were giving you trouble. They called you
a couple of nasty names; made a few obscene suggestions. There were some
racial slurs. A fight broke out, and, in the process, my clothes, and your
blouse got pretty ripped up. " 

	 "Did I fall down, and hit my head? " I questioned, with an even
greater look of confusion on my face. None of this sounded the least bit
familiar. 

	 "No. Why do you ask? You weren't hurt at all. " 

	 Because I don't remember anything that happened. Its
just.....blank. " 

	 "That's because I used the neuralizer on you!!' He declared,
matter-of-factly, gazing directly into my eyes. 

	 "YOU WHAT? " I gasped. "Why? " 

	 "They called you some pretty ugly names. You were extremely
traumatized by it, and I was having a hard time getting through to you. I
couldn't talk you through it, so I decided to erase that portion of your
memory. To reset your brain sort of. It looks like it worked. " 

	 "You fucking bastard. " I snapped, really angry now. "Who gave you
permission to mess with my head? " 

	 "There was no other solution. I had to get your head screwed back
on as quickly as possible to see this thing through. I didn't exactly have
time to take you to a therapist. There is no harm. It just erases a portion of
your memory. " Agent J stated, defensively. 

	 I rubbed my temples to try and ease the worsening headache. "Then
why do I have a headache. Why do I feel so irritable and fidgety? " 

	 "I don't know. We've never had any side effects from the
neuralizer. Its got to be something else. " "I wish I knew what it is. Its
really starting to bother me. " 

	 Agent J ran through a verbal list of possible causes: "Do you have
to go to the bathroom? Hungry? Thirsty? Need to clean up
	......... " 

	 I interrupted him. "Yes to all of those, but there's something
else. I can't describe it. Its like when you crave something, but can't put
your finger on what it is. Like an itch you can't scratch. " Then something
occurred to me. 

	 "Was Denise on any medication? Was she using any drugs? " I asked. 

	 "No on both scores. She had gotten herself off of drugs a few
months ago. She was clean, " came the answer. 

	 "Then I have no idea what it is.???? " My eyes grew wide in horror
as another, worse thought occurred to me. 

	 I continued, subdued now, "she.......I m-m-may be getting a period?
" Now I really had butterflies. The thought of having to insert a tampon into
my new plumbing was also something I couldn't handle right now. " 

	 "Its not a period. " He stated without explanation. 

	 "But how can you
	..? " I started to ask. 

	 "Just trust me on this one. I just know its not your period. " 

	 That last statement was sobering. Just the way he said MY period,
emphasized the fact that I may be a black woman for the rest of my life. I
didn't know what else to say, so I just shut up. This had done nothing to help
my bad mood. 

	 By this time, we had reached an exit to the city of Jacksonville.
Agent J took the exit, and headed into the city. I had only been to
Jacksonville on two other occasions. Therefore, I wasn't much help. He was
even less familiar with the territory, having never been to this part of the
country. 

	 Agent J had only gotten an occasional phone call, or letter from
his "friend " Eddie, the former informant. We had to stop for directions
several times to find Eddie "s place. Each stop made me more and more
irritable. By the time we finally got to the address I was very fidgety. 

	 We drove up and parked by a run-down two-story building. We were in
what appeared to be a very bad section of town. Agent J looked at the
building, and then back down at the address on his sheet of paper. It looked
like a letter. Finally he spoke, "I don't understand, this is the address that
Eddie gave me, but the building looks deserted. " 

	 Indeed the building did look uninhabited, like it had been
abandoned a long time ago. This was annoying. For an Agent, J was pretty dumb.
Pointing at the front door, I said sarcastically, "why don't we just go up an
knock on the front door? " 

	 He gave me that kind of look. He knew that I was right. That still
didn't stopping him from saying, "Damn, you really are bitchy!!! " 

	 I noted with some disgust that Agent J chose a feminine adjective
to describe my current mood. Before I could take him to task on the subject,
he handed me a black purse that must have been Denise Johnson's.
"Here.......take this. It was her, now your purse. Remember, Eddie is from the
old neighborhood. He knew Denise, may have even did her a couple of times.
You're going to have to be Denise again. You don't have to be overly
affectionate this time. " 

	 "Just fucking great!!! " I said to myself under my breath. "I get
to be the slut. You try it sometime!!! " 

	 "Did you say something?? " Agent J questioned, now out of range of
my voice. He was already at what seemed to be the front door. 

	 "No, nothing. " I said back in that high sweet voice that I now
had. I grabbed the purse, and pointedly slammed the passenger door shut to
show my disgust. It was a point not lost on Agent J. I walked up and joined at
the door. 

	 When I got there, he commented, "you're getting good at walking
like her, it was very suggestive. " I hadn't realized that without even having
to concentrate, I had walked with that swivel. Only a few hours ago, it took
all of my attention to copy a woman's movement. What was happening to me??? 

	 He balled his hands into fists and banged on the door with two loud
thuds. We heard movement from inside, and someone approaching the door. Just
before the door opened, Agent J reminded me, "Your Denise now okay? " 

	 I gave him a dirty look, and nodded my assent. 

	 The front door opened up, and there stood a thin middle-aged man,
with wispy, sparse gray hair. He was dressed in a cheap suit, worn white
shirt, and a psychedelic print tie. 

	 Agent J smiled at the man, and said, "Eddie, Eddie.........you
haven't changed a bit. " 

	 The man looked totally suprised to see Agent J. He scanned him up
and down, just to make sure his eyes didn't deceive him. Eddie's gaze shifted
to me. I put on my best sweet, winning smile despite the way I felt. He looked
me up and down also, his gaze lingering a bit too long at the large bulge in
my chest area. It was beginning to bother me that every guy I'd met so far, in
this body, looked not at ME, but at my chest. 

	 "S-s-s-smith? " Eddie stammered in disbelief. 

	 Agent J nodded back to the man, confirming that his eyes were not
lying. I continued to smile. 

	 Eddie posed the question, "What are you doing here Smith, with
Denise no less. This ain't no road trip to see ole' Eddie B. This ain't no ...
I was in the neighborhood......' kinda thing. What are you two doin' here? " 

	 Agent J answered Eddie. "Yeah I'm happy to see you to Eddie. Can we
come in? We've been on the road for awhile. We're in some trouble, and need
your help. " 

	 "Sure, sure......... " Eddie said, opening the door even wider, and
gesturing for us too enter. "You can come in. I'm not sure how much I can help
you tho'. " 

	 Once inside, with the door closed, Agent J took Eddie by the front
of the shirt, twisting it in his hand, and pulling him very close. "Look
Eddie, I don't have time for this. You owe me....big. I'm calling in those
markers right now. Denise and I are in a jam. You are going to help us. " 

	 Eddie pushed himself away from J, and managed to dislodge himself
from his grip. He smoothed down the front of his shirt, and suit, where he was
held by J, as if it was a $2000.00 Armani suit. "Okay. You don't have to ruin
the threads. I know I owe you, and Eddie never welches on a debt.. What do you
need? " 

	 "First of all a we need a place to stay for a day or two. " 

	 Then you came to the right place. " Eddie replied with a grand
sweeping gesture. 

	 Our eyes followed that gesture. We saw that the building in which
we were now standing was an abandoned hotel.` We were standing in what once
was the lobby. 

	 "You're kidding of course? " blurted out of my mouth. 

	 Eddie saw that I finally spoke, and smiled. "Its better than it
looks. Besides babe, you've been in far worse flophouses than this back in the
Apple. " 

	 "Oh great, " I thought to myself. "The first reference to this
body's past as a hooker. " 

	 "Times have changed!!! " J said sternly. 

	 Eddie replied, "Its really better than it looks. We keep the lobby
dirty just in case anyone gets curious. But...we keep a lot of the rooms
maintained so people can stay here. The water was never turned off, so that's
not a problem. The electric power we pirated from a couple of underground
cables. You can even get a hot shower. No kitchen tho'. That'd be too much of
a give away. We got runners that'll go out and pick up take out. " 

	 "What are you running here Eddie? " Agent J asked. 

	 "Follow me. " Eddie replied back, grinning from ear to ear. He was
apparently proud of something. 

	 Eddie lead us to a ballroom. We heard the muffled sounds of
something going on behind the doors. He opened the doors, and the noise got
much louder. Inside were multiple gambling tables, craps, roulette, black
jack, and full fledged poker games. The room didn't look all that crowded,
because of its size. However, a quick head count made it apparent that there
were close to a hundred people in there. Eddie was operating an underground
gambling operation. 

	 The room was choked with a thick haze of cigarette smoke, cigar
smoke, and possibly other types of smoke. There couldn't have been any
ventilation. Normally I would avoid a room like this like the plague. Smoke
irritates my eyes, and makes me feel crappy. It was strange that this
environment didn't seem to bother me in this body. Eddie gave us a tour of the
operation with great pride. It took all of about 20 minutes. 

	 As we went in and around the room, I noticed that there were a lot
more men then women. Where ever we walked I felt the weight of multiple eye
staring at me. All of the women who looked at me had a look of anger on their
face. If they were with a guy, they clutched them closer, or steered them away
from me. The men just stared at me, or more accurately, my chest, and my ass.
The looks on their face was more appreciative. Where ever we walked, men made
space for me to walk. I could feel their eyes on my back watching me glide
away. On a couple of guys, I saw them massage their crotch, as if to ease an
erection. This was dangerous, every man in the room was lusting after this
body I now wore. Everyone, including the women, were much taller then me now. 

	 At the end of that time in the room, I noticed something extremely
strange. My headache was starting to dissipate. I didn't feel as edgy or
irritable as I did before. Eddie reached into his coat jacket and pulled out a
pack of cigarettes, putting one into his mouth. He then reached out the pack
to me, offering me one. I shook my head no. The thought of those retched
things were enough to make me gag. Eddie got a quizzical look on his face and
asked, "When did you give up smoking Denise? You were always a chain-smoker! " 

	 It suddenly dawned on me why I had felt like shit. I was going
through nicotine withdrawal! If Denise was a smoker, I hadn't taken in any
nicotine since I got this body. Agent J and I looked at each other. By the
look on his face the idea had just occurred to him too. He pulled me to one
side. 

	 Once we were alone, I opened up Denise's purse, and sure enough,
inside was a half of a pack of Virginia Slims cigarettes. A tear started
forming in my eye. Another humiliation that I would have to endure. Agent J
stated, in a low voice, "I totally forgot, Denise is a smoker. That's got to
be what's making you feel so irritable. " 

	 "Great " I responded, very sarcastically. "What do I do now? " 

	 "Have a cigarette. " 

	 "I can't. Those things make me sick. I even hate being around
people who smoke. It makes them kind of
	.dirty. I can't even touch
them, they disgust me so much. " 

	 "Well, we have a real problem then. This is not the best time for
that body to quit smoking. I need to have you as well as possible, and
thinking straight. Haven't you ever smoked anything? " 

	 "Back in college I smoked marijuana a couple of times. " 

	 "Bowl or a joint? " 

	 "Both. " 

	 "Then smoking a cigarette is not much different then smoking a
joint. Listen Waters. This is important. For the good of the mission, and to
get your body back, you're going to have to take up smoking! " 

	 Even as he spoke those words, I knew they were true. As I reached
into my purse, and drew out one long, slender cigarette, my stomach did a
flip-flop. I stuck it onto my lips as a feeling of utter revulsion went
through my body. Agent J withdrew a lighter from the bag, and lit the end.
Hesitantly I inhaled the first drag. I felt the warm smoke rush down my lungs.
I thought that I would gag, but strangely a feeling of mild euphoria washed
over me. The body was reacting to the entry of what it had been craving. I
took another drag. The same feeling. I was now smoking!!! 

	 Agent J gestured that we should rejoin Eddie. He suggested that I
say something to him to cover for that slip in my story. Eddie was still
standing there waiting there for us. "Everything okay? " He questioned. 

	 "Yes " I answered him sweetly. "Its just that your cigarettes are
too harsh for me. You guys always have to smoke those rough macho cigarettes.
" 

	 This appeared to be a satisfactory answer for Eddie. Agent J spoke
up immediately. "We're just really tired. Can you get us a room, so Denise and
I can clean up? " 

	 "Sure thing Smith. Follow me. " He led us to a desk within the
ballroom .Since they couldn't use the lobby, this had served as the front
desk. He got us a key, and gave us directions to find the room. Agent J
instructed me to go on up to the room and clean up. He had to talk to Eddie a
little further about some things. I agreed, turning to go. As I went to take
my first step away, Eddie said to me, "What - Nicey' no kiss for your old pal
Eddie? " 

	 Agent J gave me the look indicating that I must play along. With an
inward sigh, I spun on my heel, stepping up to Eddie. He towered over me, but
then EVERYONE towered over me now!! 

	 I looked up at him. He put his hand under my chin tilting my face
upwards. Eddie bent down to kiss me as I closed my eyes. I felt his lips on
mine. He tried to encourage me to open my mouth, and instead I turned my head
away. "Thanks Eddie, " I said softly. 

	 I headed for the room where I knew I was going to have my first
encounter with my naked body. I consciously noticed how I withdrew another
cigarette to prepare myself for the trial immediately ahead of me. The
smoldering cigarette felt strangely........natural between my index and middle
finger. 

	 I proceeded through the lobby, following Eddie's directions, and up
the steps. I came up to the hallway to the third floor. The room should only
be a few more paces. I took the last drag on my cigarette, as I heard a man's
voice behind me say, "Hi there, you must be the new house girl. " 

	 I turned to see an enormous black man, dressed in a cheap tux.
Where my skin was a medium coffee color, and Agent J was a little darker, this
man was positively black. He was 6'10" if he was an inch, and had to be at
least 350 lbs. He stood beside me looking down. Way down. I had to bend my
neck back just to look up at him. He was gigantic, compared to me! 

	 I hadn't answered, so he continued to talk, "name's Isaac. I'm the
muscle here. If any guy gives you trouble, you come and see me. I'm your
protector here, and if need be, the collector of your money. " 

	 Wonderful! Everyone simply assumes I'm the house whore. The house
cocksucker. Because of the situation I had to play along, but only to a point.
I was NOT going to have sex in this body! My body had reacted positively to
cigarettes, and I was now almost eagerly smoking, despite my hate for that
vice. I shuddered to think how this body would react to a cock in its mouth,
or in its pussy. How would I react to that. I mentally confirmed that would
NEVER happen. 

	 My immediate problem was Isaac. I had to get out of this as quickly
as possible. I took his big hand in mine, squeezing it tenderly. "Thank you
Isaac. I'll remember that. If you'll excuse me I 've been on the road and
would like to get cleaned up. " I turned, and tried to walk away, thinking the
matter gracefully concluded. He didn't let go 

	 "C'mon babydoll. Big Isaac always tries out the new girls first. I
guarantee to please! " I was being painted into a corner. I needed an idea
quick. 

	 I moved closer to him, and hugged his arm. I was making it up as I
went. "I promise you'll be the first. Just let me get cleaned up for you okay?
" I said in as sexy of a voice as I could muster. " 

	 It must have worked. He let go of my hand. The sexual power of this
body was incredible!! However, before I could walk away he said, "just give me
a kiss first. " 

	 I had no choice. In order to get away from the worsening situation
I would have to kiss this bear of a man. I poised myself as I saw him lower
himself down to kiss me. Again, I closed my eyes so I wouldn't have to watch
what I was doing. I felt his big lips on my big fleshy lips. It wasn't a light
brush. He pressed harder on my closed lips. Then I felt him slip his big hand
under the jacket I had been wearing, and touch my big breast. I tried to open
my mouth to voice a protest, but he interpreted it as opening to allow entry
of his tongue. His fingers found my nipple, stroking it to erection. It felt
so good. Instead of trying to pull away, I kissed him back sucking on his
tongue. I felt my knees begin to buckle. Finally Isaac pulled away, leaving me
breathing heavy, and my heart racing. "I'll see you later! " 

	 My god, what was happening to me?!? 



 

	CHAPTER TEN 


	 I practically dove into the room. I closed and locked the door
behind me. I was still breathless as I leaned against the wall for support.
What had just happened to me? I had just kissed a man for the second
time.......and enjoyed it. I let a man touch my tits. A shiver ran up and down
my spine as I remembered the sensation, only a few seconds old. The memory
made my nipples start to harden again. I felt a warm, pleasant moisture
spreading in my panties. 

	 This could not go on any further. This was an abomination to think
his way; to feel this way. I had to think of something else, to get my mind
off of this. 

	 I wondered what the alien would be doing right now in my body. I
wondered what day of the week it was anyway. I recounted the sequence of
events in my mind. My flight back to Miami was scheduled for Friday night. So
that would make it Saturday night, right now. I glanced at my left wrist,
where my watch would normally be, to check the time. There was none there.
Instead there were a couple of bangles, the kind women wear on their wrists. 

	 I saw my hand. It was my hand now. It was small with fine, slender
fingers. Upon each finger, except for the ring finger, there was a ring of
some type. That even included the thumb. The fingernails on each finger
extended about two inches past the fingertip. I had noticed that it was hard
to manipulate things with these fingernails. My right hand was indentical,
except there were rings on each finger, including the ring finger. On my right
wrist was a loose bracelet, and a thin-banded woman's watch. The watch read
9:30 o'clock P.M. 

	 If the alien had full access to my memories, by now,he.....it would
be getting ready to go out with my friends. They would be going out to one of
my favorite hangouts, no doubt, and chase women. Women like I now was. My
friends would not be able to detect anything amiss. It infuriated me that the
alien was living in my house, wearing my clothes, taking care of my pet dogs,
and basically living my life. Granted it wasn't much of a life since I broke
up with my live-in girl friend, but it was MY life. I wanted it back. I even
had fantasies about getting back with my girlfriend. That would be impossible
in my current condition. If it had access to my memories, and mannerisms, not
even my dogs would be able to tell anything was wrong. 

	 There was no doubt in my mind that the alien in my body was
exhibiting my mannerisms, my quirks. The reason that I knew that was because I
was starting to exhibit Denise's mannerisms and quirks; mannerisms that were
native or natuaral to the body. For instance, it felt better to be wearing
high heels, than to be in bare feet. There was something about the arch of my
new foot. 

	 I thought about calling the alien at my house, just to see if I
could get it on the phone. I could pretend it was just a wrong number. I
wanted to see if it could really imitate me, be me. The urge was powerful.
However, I thought better of it. At this stage, it doesn't even know if I , or
this body, was alive. It didn't know if we were tracking it. A phone call,
even a pretend wrong number, could tip it off. All of this pondering, and
musing, had the effect I had desired. My breathing and heart rate had returned
to normal; normal for this body at least. Now it was just me, left alone to
get used to my new body. I was mentally delaying the inevitable as long as
possible. 

	 I moved from where I was leaning, against against the wall in the
foyer. As I did, I felt my boobs bounce and jiggle. How would I ever get used
to that feeling, let alone like it. How could women enjoy this sensation, even
promote it, by getting a massive boob job like Denise obviously had? Like I
now had. 

	 I looked around the room, feeling my extremely long hair swing and
brush against my back as I did. The room was fairly large, with two double
beds. There was even a tv. The room was suprisingly clean, well kept. It
appeared to all of the world like an ordinary hotel room. I would never have
known that it was even here from the appearence of the exterior of the
building. There was one notable exception. The windows were boarded over so
that no light escaped, and alert the outside world of this operation. 

	 I checked the closet. There were even complimentary robes. The
robes had mismatched logos on them, signifying they had been stolen from other
hotels. I laughed to myself, noting how much I sounded like a little girl
giggling. Still, it was a nice touch by Eddie. 

	 I sighed deeply to myself. There was just no putting this off any
longer. I took off the black jacket that Agent J had given to me, tossing it
on the far bed. I felt the stale air of the room meet the skin of my bare
chest, where the blouse had been ripped. 

	 I gazed down at myself. My tits stuck out like a shelf. The white
lace bra was barely able to contain them. I grasped my boobs, one in each
hand, and lifted them, testing their weight. It felt like they were about 5
lbs. each. It was a peculiarly erotic feeling, sensing such massive breasts
upon my chest. My nipples were again reacting to my thoughts, swelling and
enlarging. I squeezed my tits in my hands, enjoying the feel of it. 

	 I unbuttoned the few remaining buttons of the blouse. I had a bit
of a problem, not only manipulating the buttons with those long nails, but the
fact women's blouses open on the opposite side of men's shirts. I was able to
navigate those devices, finally pulling the tail of the undone blouse from the
skirt. I took off the blouse, throwing it upon the nearer bed, which I now
claimed as my own. I stood there in the open room, with only a bra on the
upper half of my body. 

	 I inspected my arms. God, they were so slender, with very little
muscle. There was only enough baby fat to make my arms smooth, and
ultra-feminine. Aside from these boobs, Denise was a slight, petite woman. It
only made my breasts stand out that much more. 

	 The moment of truth. I located the fastening device on the front of
the bra, between the cups. I had trouble unfastening it with these long nails,
as I had with the blouse. However, unfasten it I did! I pulled and seperated
the cups from my breasts. Now there was nothing to support them, except for
gravity. I felt them quiver slightly as I pulled the bra away from my body.
Now I was completely bare chested. There was so much material to the bra,
prompting me to look at a small tag near one of the cups. It read 38DDD. I
hade huge tits!!! The bra had to have been specially made. 

	 It occured to me that if Agent J burst into the room, and saw me
this way, there would be real trouble. After all, he had already masturbated
over the sight of me touching myself with my clothes on. He should not see
this. I grabbed a chair to jamb under the door nob. Now moving without the
support of the bra, my breasts swayed, moving this way and that, with every
gesture. I felt my long hair tickle my back, all the way down to my waist. It
was maddening to feel so many body parts moving as I moved. 

	 With the added security of the chair under the door knob, I
inspected my upper anatomy a little bit closer. My boobs had seperated
somewhat, and I could see down between them. I rolled both of my shoulders
forward, feeling my breasts against the sides of my arms, and squishing them
together. I lifted my hands between them touching my face, and feeling them
upon my upper arms. 

	 I ran my hands from the smooth skin of my face to my neck, from my
neck to my upper chest, lingering for a second, and them to my bare tits. I
caressed them lovingly, one in each hand. I kneaded them with my tiny hands,
simultaneously feeling my nipples swell, and push into the palms of my hands.
My breathing grew heavier again. Goose flesh rose all over my body. 

	 I inspected my nipples. They were a slightly darker brown than the
rest of my skin; sort of a rich dark chocolate. My areolas were very, very
wide and larger than a quarter, larger than a half-dollar. I estimated that
they were about the size of the bottom of a saucer, with soft puckered skin,
and raised pores like goose flesh. In the middle were erect nipples. I
measured them against the fingernail of my index finger. They were almost as
long, nearly 2 inches when engorged. 

	 I resumed squeezing and massaging my breasts. They felt very firm,
and, despite their huge size, there was absolutely no sag. I thought that this
was probably due to the silicone implants that I now possessed. My hands slid,
almost possessed, under my breasts, lifting them again. This time, since I was
totally nude, I could feel faint scars on the underside of each massive gland,
where the silicone had been inserted. 

	 It seemed like there was a direct erotic connection between my
boobs and my pussy. Playing with my tits had really turned me on. Now my
vagina was responding to the sensation by lubricating, preparing for the entry
of a foreign object. This time, rather than perceiving the moisture to be a
discomfort, I thought that it felt pleasurable. There was a urgency, an
insistence to be touched down there. 

	 My hands returned to my nipples. I began to roll them between my
thumb and index finger, making them harder still. I was warm and fuzzy all
over. I didn't want to stop this. 

	 If I was a guy right now, I would by dying to put these nipples in
my mouth, sucking and nibbling in them. But I wasn't. I possessed these
nipples now. Nipples which, if things didn't change soon, would one day be
suckled by a child. I stared at my breasts, sad now, until an idea occured to
me. It was something I had seen once in a pornographic magazine. With two
hands I lifted a breast up, while lowering my mouth. They were able to meet
quite easily. I reached out with my tongue, licking softly, like a kitten, my
nipple. It was like the completion of an electrical circuit. A wave of
indescribable pleasure and joy washed over my body. Hungrily, I took the
entire nipple into my mouth, and began alternately sucking and biting. My
nipples were so hard they actually hurt. A sweet pain, mixed with intense
pleasure. 

	 How great would it be, I wondered, to have Isaac manhandle my
boobs, suck my nipples? The fleeting fantasy of another man snapped me back to
reality. I dropped my breast as if it were a thing cursed. What was I doing?
What was I thinking? I had to stop this!!!!!! 

	 I concentrated, and was able to regain my composure. I didn't like
the way my body was reacting to this contact.......any contact. A couple of
times I had gotten close to losing control. What would happen then?
Fortunately, my male mind had been able to maintain control. I thought it best
to just finish disrobing and take a shower. 

	 I reached behind me, undoing the skirt like I learned to do back at
the bathroom in the diner. It dropped to the floor around my ankles. I stepped
out of it, and at the same time, out of my shoes. It left me a few inches
shorter than I was before. The only thing left was the hose and panties. 

	 Looking down through the seperation of my tits, I could see a
moisture stain through the hose, on the front of my panties. I hadn't realized
that I was THAT turned on!! I pulled at the waistband of the pantyhose, and
began to pull them down. It required that I lean forward, the further down
that I got on my legs. The pantyhose snagged on what I imagined to be stubble
on unshaven legs. The further I leaned forward, the more I felt gravity
pulling at my tits. When I was all of the way forward, able to easily touch
the floor with my hands, those jugs hung straight down. The sheer weight of
them strained the tissue nearer to my chest. They felt huge, like udders on a
cow. My long mass of hair slid from my back, over one shoulder, to hang all of
the way to the floor. 

	 I stood up again, feeling all of my body parts shift back into
place. I repeated the process with my panties. Now I stood in the center of
the room stark naked. I got the sudden urge to scratch again, the damned pubic
hair growing in again. 

	 I felt very uncomfortable with my nakedness, in this body. I walked
to the closet, pulling one of the robes off of the hanger. When I put it on, I
noticed, conspicously, how it, like most things now, hung on me like a sack.
The hem went all of the way to the floor!!! I pulled my hair from underneath
the back of the robe with a flip of both hands. 

	 Walking into the bathroom, I saw that it was a reasonable size.
There was a toilet of course, and a combination shower/bath. It wasn't a bath
like you see in hotels nowadays, inset into the wall, but a stand alone, claw
foot, tub, with a curtain circling it. There were toiletries and items left
over from the last resident of this room. One of those items was scented
bubble bath. Now usually I would take a shower. I never take baths. However, I
decided that since I was stuck in this body, I might as well enjoy one of the
luxuries women have: long, hot bubble baths. 

	 I bent over the tub, and started the water running. Again my boobs
hung down like udders, swaying heavily back and forth as I moved. Once I had
the temperature right, I put the stopper in the drain. The tub began to fill
up, prompting me to squirt in a generous portion of bubble bath. It smelled
strongly of strawberries. I replaced the container of bubble bath on the edge
of the tub, again, causing my breasts to sway. 

	 A thought flitted across my mind, which I caught just in time,
choking it down: how would these tits sway if I was getting it from behind? 

	 My eyes widened in horror. I shivered. How could I be thinking such
thoughts? It was sickening. I DID NOT WANT TO EVEN TOUCH A MAN!! I would have
to concentrate more, not let these idle, curious ideas seep into my brain. It
was clear my body was locked in a life and death struggle with my brain. If my
concentration lapsed, the body took over. 

	 The suds in the bathtub were beginning to rise. I had just enough
time to go to the mirror to inspect my face. This was the third time that I
had seen my new face. It was no less startling. Would I ever get used to my
new reflection. It was a breathtakingly beautiful afro-american face. Even as
a white man, I would have been strongly attracted to this girl. I tried to
smile to myself to see what that would look like. The big lips seperated
naturally, revealing perfect, brilliant white teeth.. Looking at my long hair,
I decided that it looked just fine, which was good. It would be that much
harder if I had to wash, and attempt to style so much hair. My gorgeous face
had a fairly good amount of makeup on it. I decided that it would be better to
remove the make-up before bathing. I had no idea how I would reapply make-up
afterword, seeing as I hadn't the slightest clue as to how to do so. 

	 I remembered from my past experience of living with several women
that the best way to remove make-up was with cold cream. I turned to the
vanity to my left, sorting through the various jars and containers that were
there. One of those containers was, in fact, cold cream. Judging from some of
the other containers that were there, the last resident of this room was a
woman. I took some of the cold cream in my hands, and began to scrub my face.
After a minute or so of scrubbing, I rinsed myself in the sink. When I looked
in the mirror, I saw that a portion of my make-up did not come off. Not much,
but some make-up, around the eyes was still there. I repeated the process,
with the same result. I tried to scratch it off with my fingernail. Nothing!
It must be some type of permenant make-up. 

	 I inspected my face again. If it was possible, I was even better
looking without all of that make-up on. The minimal permenant make-up, created
the image of a natural beauty. It was a beauty that could be added upon, with
additional make-up, that seemed to be the stock in trade of hookers, to create
a more outrageous or exotic look. That was just fine with me because it meant
it would be one less thing for me to worry about, or learn how to do as a
woman! 

	 By that time, the tub was filled to the optimal level. I went back
over to the tub, turning off the faucet. I then untied the belt of the robe,
opening it up, and letting it drop in a pile to the floor. I was naked again.
I eased one foot into the water. It was just the perfect temperature for a
long relaxing soak. I sat upon the edge of the tub, and pulled my other leg
into the water. The porcelain was cold against my rearend. Again, as the rim
pushed into my buttocks, I mentally noted how big and fleshy it felt. I eased
the rest of my nubile body into the foamy water, making sure that my hair
stayed out over the edge, and out of the moisture. The feeling of the warm
bath was sheer ecstasy! 

	 Soaking in the hot bath was so soothing, so calming. It almost made
me forget that I was now a girl. I idley noticed that there was a small metal
basket hanging from the rim of the tub. In the basket there was a bar of soap,
a rather large sponge, and a pink handled razor. I picked up the bar of soap,
rubbing it between my hands. I never did like using a washcloth or a sponge to
wash. I always preffered the direct Ahands on@ method. After I got up a good
lather in my hands, I replaced the soap in the basket. I started to rub my
soapy hands all over my body. 

	 I started with my neck, and upper chest. My skin was so soft. Next
I washed my upper, and lower arms. By that time, I had run out of soap. I
picked up the bar of soap from the basket, repeating the lathering process.
The next thing were my breasts. My soapy hands allowed me to slip and slide
over those globes. I didn't hurry! Soon I was again massaging my nipples. I
felt myself becoming aroused again. This time, instead of stopping I just
leaned back and enjoyed the erotic sensations. Mmmmmmmm. It felt SO good,
causing me to sigh, softly, to myself. 

	 My hands ran out of soap again. I relathered for the third time.
This time I washed under my arms, under my breasts, and my stomach. I detected
some minor stubble underneath my armpits. I spied the pink razor cautiously.
It was apparent that I would have to make use of it before this bath was over.
Before I started that adventure, I decided to see what other areas of my body
that I would have to shave. I already knew from recent past experience that my
pubic hair was starting to grow back in. I was struggling with whether I
should do one of the most feminine of things, and reshave my pussy. This was a
real dilemma, because I knew, in the days ahead the itching would grow worse. 

	 After soaping my hands back up, I began to wash my legs. I lifted
my knee to my chest. I was suprised that I was able to do so, so easily. There
was absloutley no restriction of movement. I was extremely flexible now. The
only thing which stopped me from bringing me knee all the way up were those
tits. The skin of my legs, if it was possible, was even softer than the skin I
encountered elsewhere. There was the barest hint of muscle, but instead light
baby fat making those extemeties extremely shapely, and supple. There was the
same amount of stubble on my legs as there were under my armpits. That meant I
would have to do something women everywhere do every day: shave my legs. It
wouldn't be routine for me. 

	 With another heavy sigh I grabbed the pink razor. I raised my left
arm, shaving the left armpit with my right hand. I switched hands and did the
right under arm. It all went fairly well. I thought that this may not be so
hard after all. I rinsed my underarms with bathwater, and nodded to myself
that they were indeed very smooth. The legs were a different story. Flushed
with the success of my underarms, I dove right into shaving my legs. I
succeeded in nicking myself within two seconds. Fortunately, it was only a
small nick, near my right ankle. There was only a light trickle of blood. This
was going to take a light hand. I took longer, lighter strokes. The stubble
came off easily, evenly. Soon I had a pair of legs that were softer then a
baby's bottom. It was hard for my mind to accept as I stroked my creamy inner
thighs. 

	 There was only one thing left. I gazed down between my boobs in to
the water which was less foamy now. There were areas in the water where there
no longer any bubbles. Through on of those areas I could see the nearly
hairless crotch. With one hand I ran my fingertips over the pubic area. Yes,
there was a definite stubble there. I got the urge to scratch. There was no
getting around it, I was going to have to shave my pussy. I felt that all too
familiar urgency in my pussy as my thoughts turned me on. I squeezed the
cheeks of my buttocks together as I raised my genitals out of the water. I
took the soap in one hand, rubbing it directly upon my pubic area in a
circular pattern. Unfortunately, the pressure of the bar of soap on that area
only increased the urgency I felt in my vagina. Placing the soap back in the
basket, I grabbed the pink razor. I began to shave my pussy in short light
strokes. 

	 Despite the lightness of my strokes, the feeling of a pressure down
there was driving me crazy, demanding even greater attention. It didn't take
me very long to shave my pussy bare. After I was done, I caressed the area
with my finger tips. Now I was just as smooth there as my legs. It felt
unnaturally good, better than what it was before. The pressure and urgency
down there was so insistent. I began to rub myself with ever increasing force.
It made me feel even better. I noticed my hips were begin to thrust forward to
meet each circular movement of my fingers. Still the pressure kept increasing,
screaming for release. 

	 In the midst of playing with myself, I began to fantasize. What
would Isaac do to me if he saw my shaved pussy, my pierced pussy. Again, I
caught myself. However, this time I told myself that it was only a fantasy.
Fantasies aren't bad I rationalized, they can't hurt me. I thought that maybe
if I let my fantasy run its course that I wouldn't be having the constant
reactions that I was having. It was like I had crossed an invisible barrier,
like a great weight had been lifted off of my shoulder. I relaxed, reveling in
my feminity. 

	 I continued to rub my bare pusssy, while the other hand found one
of my big, big boobs. I fondled the nipples with a new vigor. I imagined
myself lying on a bed totally naked, playing with myself this way. Isaac was
straddled over me pulling down his pants. He pulls down his shorts, and there
is a dark black cock, huge in size, and very, very hard. I reach up and take
him in my hand, and start to jerk him off. However, its not enough. He forces
my legs apart, and I want him with every ounce of my being. I guide him into
me, feeling his hugeness penetrate my small body. It feels so wonderful, and I
am close to release. I look at his face, but it is no longer Isaac. It is
Agent J. Suddenly, I am swept with an intense feeling of passion and lust for
this man. 

	 By now, I had penetrated myself with two fingers. I was ramming
them in and out, in and out. At the same time, I had brought my tit to my
mouth, and was sucking and biting my nipple for all that it was worth. The
room around me exploded in to a panorama of colors, sights, and sounds. I
almost passed out as I was wracked with orgasm after orgasm. I had enough
consiousness left to hear myself moan, and scream at the top of my lungs. 




	
	CHAPTER ELEVEN 


	BAM, BAM, BAM!!!! BAM, BAM, BAM!!! The pounding on the door to the
room brought me out of my euphoric, blissful state. Still, I didn't feel much
like moving. I felt like just curling up like a cat, and basking in the erotic
sensations. However, the pounding on the door would not cease. BAM, BAM, BAM!!
 

	I rose from the tub, and quickly toweled off. Rubbing with a towel,
in the way to which I was accustomed, irritated my sensitive skin. BAM, BAM,
BAM!! I heard a muffled voice from beyond the door shout, "Waters? Waters? Are
you okay? Open up......" BAM, BAM, BAM!!
 

	I put on the robe which was crumpled in a heap on the floor. It
still hung like a tent. BAM, BAM, BAM!! I padded leisurely to the front door,
removing the chair from underneath the knob. I unlocked the front door, opened
it, and saw Agent J standing there with a very concerned look upon his face.
 

	"Are you okay? He asked. "I was coming down the hall when I heard
you scream. I thought you were being raped, or worse, the alien had come back
to nuetralize you. When I couldn't get the door open, I assumed the worst."
 

	"No reason to worry Will." The tone of my voice had changed. Before,
I was speaking as I always did, as most guys do, from the diaphram. Now, I was
speaking from my throat. The effect was very soft, almost musical. I imagined
that this was how Denise sounded naturally. It was additional proof my body
was taking on my host's mannerisms. AI just fell asleep while taking a bath,
and had a nightmare. It was about the alien."
 

	The last statement was a lie, of course. However, I couldn't let
Agent J know what I was just doing, let alone that part of my fantasy involved
him. Just the thought of me fantasizing about a guy was kicking my male mind
back into control. Still, her mannerisms remained, which was noticable in the
way I walked and moved. I was now very graceful and feminine. No one would
ever be able to suspect that I used to be a man. The change even altered the
way I held myself.
 

	It was a change that did not go un-noticed by Agent J. After
expressing his relief that nothing was wrong he stated, "man, that bath must
have done you a world of good. You seem more relaxed. You are starting to
sound and move just like Denise. Its eerie. If I didn't know what actually
happened, superficially, at least, I wouldn't be able to tell the difference."
 

	I thought for a second. Unconsiously, I lit another cigarette,
holding it in a very lady-like manner, between my fingers. My fantasy in the
bathtub had somehow triggered my body's reversion to its natural, inborn
mannerisms. It was almost as if the consious part of my mind, responsible for
mannerisms in my old body, just switched itself off, allowing this body to
take over.
 

	Raising my fingers to my lips, I took a long puff from the
cigarette. As I exhaled, I felt the slight rush from nicotine entering my
system. It wasn't necessarily a bad sensation. Agent J was looking at me as if
expecting an answer to his last statement, so I responded.
 

	"I have a theory about that. It must be part of the switch.
Something is automatcally triggered to allow the alien to adapt to the new
body, and vice-versa. Its almost like the consious part of my mind, which
controls how I used to walk and talk and move has been turned off by the
switch. The body is taking over, and it feels so.....natural. Even now its
getting hard to remember how I used to walk and talk. I mean how else could I
adapt to smoking so quickly? It is something that I used to think was
revolting......"
 

	"That's pretty wild." He said.
 

	"It has me a little worried. Its like every time I relax.......a
little more of me, the old me, fades away. A little more of her comes out.
When will it stop? Am I going to lose myself completely?"
 

	"I doubt it." Agent J replied, with an air of expertise. "Do you
have any of her memories?"
 

	I tried to think of something...anything that would belong to her.
There was nothing. I stated, "No. I don't think so."
 

	AI think the core part of you, the thing that makes you special to
yourself, will always be there. Think about it. If it was any other way there
would be no reason to switch at all. One being wouldn't switch with another,
just to become that new self, heart and soul. Its just the unconsious
reactions, motor skills, and whatnot, the things controlled by the cerebellum,
that are superimposed upon the new core part. The new body goes on for awhile
directed by the consious thoughts of the new host, but reverts to old gestures
and reactions. If you think about it, it would be a natural adaptive feature
of their ability to switch."
 

	"I guess so," I said, feeling a little consoled. I wanted to change
the subject before we got into other reactions, the sexual reactions of this
body, that I had experienced. Therefore, I questioned him, "How did your talk
with Eddie go? Did you get everything we'll need?"
 

	From the reaction on Agent J's face, this looked like an area that
he was uncomfortable to delve into. He looked away from me, averting my eyes.
Something was wrong. He answered, "Uh.....yes, and no."
 

	"What do you mean?" was my reply. I had finished my cigarette, and
extinguished it. Afterward, I went to the edge of my bed, and sat down. I
crossed my legs at the thighs, like most women do, without even thinking about
it. Again, it felt so natural, and just the right way to do it. Crossing at
the knees seemed somehow.....ackward.
 

	Agent J saw this gesture and commented, "Wow, you are adapting to
that body. That was so, so......girlish! Anyway, Eddie will let us stay here
at no charge. There are some extra clothes that we can utilize. Unfortunately
for you the only clothes that will fit you are those of the house whore. This
used to be her room."
 

	I had already guessed as much. The label "whore", strangely was
starting to offend me.
 

	He continued, "......However, Eddie doesn't have the liquid funds to
give us any money."
 

	"That's just great. What are we going to do now. How much do we have
left?"
 

	"Not enough to get very far. Eddie did give us a couple of options.
One of those I vetoed right away. The other one we need to talk about."
 

	I noticed now that he had in his arms a bundle of clothes. Male
clothes. As he was mentally reviewing his meeting with Eddie, and trying to
figure out exactly how to phrase it, he placed the bundle on top of the
dresser. Agent J started to unbutton his white dress shirt, after removing his
black tie. He removed his shirt, throwing it in the far bed where he saw his
black jacket.
 

	Agent J stood there bare chested. What a chest it was. It looked
like there wasn't an ounce of fat on him. He was very, very muscular.....
"ripped" as they say in bodybuilding terms. I couldn't help but stare.
Fortunately, he didn't notice because he was lost in thought. The reaction
upon me was immediate! Against my will, I felt myself beginning to become
aroused.
 

	He didn't stop there. He kicked off his shoes, and pulled off his
socks. Then, without thinking, he undid his belt, tugging off his pants. He
didn't have any underwear on! Intellectually, at least, Agent J still
considered me a man, Matthew Waters. He obviously didn't think it the least
bit unusual to undress in front of another guy.
 

	The lower half of his body was just as muscular. However, it wasn't
his muscles that drew my attention. My eyes were riveted to a semi-erect 10
inch penis. I could only imagine how big it would be when engorged. Now I felt
my body completely turned on. I felt the urgency and pressure in my pussy
again. I thought that I had just relieved that urge. I had an overwhelming
urge to go and touch that cock.
 

	I had to look away. This was becoming unbearable!! I had to get him
back to the subject of Eddie, so I broke his concentration by saying,
".......and, so?"
 

	By the time I glanced back, he had put on a pair of black jeans, and
a pair of black construction boots. Now I was only half turned on. I was
inexplicably irritated that he didn't consider the reaction that his disrobing
would have on me. After all, he now knew I was taking on the natural instincts
of this body.
 

	"Fine." I thought to myself. "Two can play at that game!?!" I
remembered what happened back in New York when I originally woke up after the
switch.
 

	Before he could get two words out of his mouth, regarding his
conference with Eddie, I unceremoniously stood up and pulled off my robe. I
stood there before Agent J totally nude. 


	I caressed my pubic area softly and told him, "I had to shave
Denise's pussy, because it was starting to itch me." The effect on him was
like lightning. I saw a bulge begin to grow in his tight, black jeans. I
smiled, slightly.
 

	I ran my hands up my sides to my tits and grasped them in my two
hands. As innocently and earnestly as possible I looked him in the eye and
asked, "Do you think these boobs are too big?"
 

	He had, had enough. It was too much for him, and he disappeared into
the bathroom without even excusing himself. As I put my robe back on, I
virtually beamed to myself because I heard the sound of Agent J vigorously
jerking off in the bathroom. "Serves him right," I thought to myself.
 

	Agent J's disappearance gave me time to search the dresser and
closet for the clothes which he mentioned. When I looked in the dresser there
were some silky panties. I found a black pair that appeared to be comfortable,
skimpy, but no g-string. I slipped them on underneath the robe, and found that
they fit. The smooth shiny material felt good against my shaved pubic area.
 

	The next order of business was to try and find a bra to support my
heaving breasts. Not that they needed support, because they were doing fine on
their own. In the drawer below the panties I located a tangle of clean bras.
They all looked much too small for me. However, way in the back I found a bra
with a tag that read 38E: one size bigger than me. It was black, like my
panties, but buckled in the back rather than the front. This was going to be
hard to put on!!! I took off my robe again, it sounded like Agent J hadn't
finished up yet. I put each arm through the arm straps, bringing the front of
the bra up to my chest. It took a few moments to get each of my boobs into the
cups. As I tried to do so they flopped this way and that. It fit snuggly!! It
made me wonder if the bra I had been wearing was too small. 


	I reached behind me with both hands to try and hook the back. You
have to be practically double-jointed to even reach the hooks!! Still I was
able to reach those devices. It was apparent this body had handled this type
of operation in the past. The problem was that, as soon as I reached the
hooks, the cups fell off the tits. I had to repeat the process all over again.
"Damn," I thought. "How do women do this every day without even thinking about
it?"
 

	This time I took no chances. Once I got the breasts inside the cups,
I laid down on the bed face first. I felt my boobs press into my chest as I
laid upon the mattress. My game plan was to have this position hold the damned
appliance into place. It worked! I was able to get two of the hooks attached.
It was enough to allow me to stand up again. I reached behind me and attached
the other four hooks. With tits this size six hooks were needed to keep the
bra securely fastened. I hoped that I wouldn't have to get used to this
routine.
 

	I could hear the toilet being flushed in the bathroom. I called out
through the door, "Will?"
 

	"Yes?" came the reply.
 

	"Could you stay in there for a few more minutes, while I get
dressed? Maybe you can freshen up or something."
 

	A sarcastic remark was hurled back at me. "So NOW you're modest?!?"
 

	I didn't respond to his remark. Hearing the silence, Agent J then
said, "Okay...okay. Just let me know when you are done." Seconds later I heard
the sound of the shower being turned on. That gave me time to explore what
clothes I had to choose from.
 

	Farther back in the closet, from where the robes were hanging, where
an assortment of women's clothes: incredibly risqué and sexy women's clothes!
There were short skirts, animal prints, hot pants, skin tight dresses, etc.
There was one pair of well worn jeans. I went with the jeans. However, whoever
owned these clothes had a bit of a slimmer frame than I now did. I had to lay
down on the bed and wiggle, slowly into the jeans. They fit, but just barely.
The effect was that they were painted on me.
 

	Now I had to find a top to wear. There was a wide assortment of tops
to choose from, most being low cut, to show off cleavage. Regardless of my
show for Agent J, I wasn't ready to go flaunting myself in public. The only
thing that wasn't low cut was a cropped pink cotton shirt. I slipped it on
over my head, pulling my hair out from underneath it. It was cropped very
short, exposing my tummy. I was very concerned about exposing any flesh, but
if I had to choose, I would rather it be my stomach rather than my boobs. It
would have to do. I went with the shoes I already had.
 

	I checked myself in the mirror. I decided that I could go with just
the permanent make-up, since it worked so well on its own. I sighed. It didn't
matter how I dressed, I was still an outrageously sexy girl. At least this way
I didn't look like a tramp, it was more of a wholesome, natural look.
 

	"Alright. I'm done." I said at the bathroom door. There was no
response. I heard that the shower was still running.
 

	I decided that I would mess with Agent J a little further. I opened
the door as quietly as possible, and snuck into the bathroom. Agent J was busy
in the shower. I grabbed a towel, sneaking up to the shower curtain. With one
hand I opened the shower curtain, and with the other extended a towel. I said
sweetly, "here's a towel when you're done."
 

	"Thanks
	," he started absently. Then he realized what was
going on and screamed, "WHAT
	.....??"
 

	I just smiled. He ripped the towel out of my hand, and covered
himself. I couldn't help but notice that he had a huge erection. "DON'T DO
THAT!!" He demanded.
 

	I spun on my heel, and exited the bathroom. Seconds later Agent J
emerged wearing just the black jeans, and with the towel draped around his
neck. His magnificently muscled chest was open for me to see. He reiterated
"Don't do that. Haven't you seen the effect your body is having on me? Its
starting to become embarrassing. Just please stop, and have some respect okay?"
 

	I responded back, "respect goes both ways you know!!!"
 

	"I don't understand."
 

	"I told you that I was taking on Denise's gestures and reactions.
Yet, you got undressed right in front of me as if I were just another guy. You
even helped me to figure it out. However, YOU didn't stop to consider the
effect your naked body would have on ME!"
 

	"Y-y-you were turned on by the sight of me??" He asked sheepishly.
 

	"Yes, but it was involuntary. I couldn't help myself. Not only was I
turned on, I was very turned on. I am now, just looking at your chest."
 

	"I-I-I'm sorry. I had no idea. I'll go put a shirt on right away."
He disappeared, and then reappeared wearing a tight black t-shirt. Agent J had
also put his boots back on. "Is that better?"
 

	I nodded in the affirmative. His tight t-shirt still did not leave
much to the imagination.
 

	Agent J motioned for me to sit down on the bed. I did as he
requested, crossing my legs at the thighs like a woman. He sat down on his bed
facing me, with a serious look upon his face. When he finally spoke, he said,
"Waters. The fact that you are displaying Denise's gestures, and reacting like
her may be an unforeseen benefit in the next few hours. I'm going to have to
ask you to do something very hard."
 

	Now I was frightened. "What is that??" I asked in a very low voice,
barely a whisper.
 

	"Understand that when I asked Eddie for money, and he said he
couldn't, he gave us a few options, as I said. One of those options was that
you could hustle his clientele, have free rein. He said he was in need of a
house whore, and that everyone seemed to have the hots for you. Eddie seemed
to think you could turn a pretty good profit turning tricks."
 

	"I-I-I-I
	.." I couldn't even get the words out, I was so
horrified. The thought of me actually being a hooker was to much to bear.
 

	Agent J saw how upset I was, and tried to calm me down. "Relax. Just
remember that Eddie doesn't know you as Matthew Waters. He only knows you as
Denise Johnson who was a hooker. There was no offense intended. In fact, he
thought he was doing you a favor. In any case, I told him that you are out of
that game. You've given it up, and are trying to go legit: clean up your life.
He respected that."
 

	I appreciated what Agent J had done for me. I was truly touched. I
had the urge to go over and hug him. However, I stayed put. I did ask, "then
what did you mean about my new reactions coming in handy?
 

	Agent J briefly looked away, then back, directly into my eyes.
"There's more..... Eddie gave us a second option. He knows the owner of a high
class strip joint, down on the beach, that needs a few girls tonight. They're
expecting a big crowd. He said he could get you in."
 

	Now I was gripped in fear again. "Y-y-you want me to dance and strip
for a room full of men in THIS body?"
 

	"Yes.........and do private lap dances too."
 

	Tears were forming in my eyes now. "I can't. I just can't"
 

	"Yes you can." Agent J tried to reassure me. "You can do this. If
there were any other choice, believe me I wouldn't ask you. Its just
that.......with that body we can make a lot of money in the least amount of
time. Everybody will want a lap dance from you."
 

	"I-I-I don't know the first thing about it. I would just be stupid."
 

	"Answer me this. Have you ever gone to a strip club when you were a
man?"
 

	I blushed. "Yes, of course. Many times."
 

	He continued, "have you ever had a lap dance?"
 

	"Yes," I said, blushing again.
 

	"Then all you have to do is just imitate what you saw. Do to guys
what you would like to have had a dancer do to you. You were able to pull it
off back in New York. You can do it here. After a while the body's instincts
will take over. Denise also danced and stripped, before she became a hooker."
 

	"I just can't," I whispered softly, barely audible.
 

	"Waters we have no choice. You either do this or accept the body you
now have for the rest of your life. Unless we get some money, and get to Miami
this thing is over. Believe me when I tell you there is no other way. You'll
be perfectly safe. I'll be there as a bouncer, and make sure no one hurts you,
or goes to far."
 

	"Y-y-you will??"
 

	"Yes. I'll tell you what. We'll make it as easy as possible for you.
You said when you relax more of Denise's natural instincts come out?"
 

	"Yeah," I replied.
 

	"I saw a bottle of some good stuff downstairs. It'll get you pretty
messed up without getting you drunk. It'll allow you to do what you have to do
with the least amount of inhibitions. We'll just put your conscious mind on
hold for a few hours. At the end I'll use the neuralizer and erase all memory
of what you did, like back at the diner. You'll just be missing a few hours.
It'll be okay, really. Then we can get out of here and go and get your real
body back."
 

	When he described it that way it didn't sound to bad. I knew,
however, there was no telling what the effect of turning on, and being turned
on by, men would have on me, even if my memory was erased. The fantasy in the
bathtub had me acting, and reacting like a girl already. Still, I didn't see
anyway out. It was a risk I would have to take. I just had to hope and pray we
would be able to get my own body back before I found myself on my knees
eagerly sucking someone's cock.
 

	Agent J was looking at me, waiting for an answer. Finally, although
it took all of my strength and courage, I said, "Okay......I'll do it." I was
going to be a stripper.
 

	"Good girl," said Agent J.




	 CHAPTER THIRTEEN 


	 20 minutes later I was sitting in the dressing room of a club
called "The Cat's Meow" down on Jacksonville Beach. I could hear from the
actual club, beyond the dressing room door, that it was a very large crowd. I
felt fuzzy and warm all over. That was no doubt it was from the drink that
Agent J had made for me in the parking lot. Absinthe, I believe he said it
was. 

	 All that I knew was that, when he mixed the drink it was a
translucent, opal green. It tasted kind of like licorice. Agent J told me that
this alcohol was outlawed in the United States back in the 1920's because one
of its active ingredients was the poison wormwood. He told me that one drink
would have a hallucinogenic, narcotic effect, but wouldn't make me look,
sound, or feel drunk. The drink was supposed to have a large aphrodisiac
effect on women. As I drank it down, I didn't think, based upon what had
happened to me in the last couple of hours, that an aphrodisiac would be
needed. 

	 The Absinthe was starting to take its effect. Everything seemed
dreamlike, as if it wasn't actually happening to me. I smiled as I decided to
play along with this silly dream. I was Matthew Waters, sleeping somewhere,
imagining all of this. 

	 I remembered the parking lot was filled with Rolls-Royces,
Ferraris, Porches, and all kinds of expensive cars. Agent J took me in through
a side entrance, where he met a well-dressed man by the name of Lou. Of
course, by that time, the Absinthe was already taking affect. It was getting
hard for me to follow the conversation that ensued. 

	 "Are you Lou?" Agent J said, extending is hand, to shake that of
the well-dressed man. 

	 That man stuck out his hand to Agent J, and responded, "You must be
Smith and Johnson. Eddie called and told me about you'all. He said he owed you
one, and that the girl with you was something special. Now I don't care much
about debts. I can always use another bouncer who can handle himself. You're
just a bonus from my point of view. What I'm interested in is your companion
here. I need a black chick in the dancers for clients who like that stuff. I
haven't had a black girl for some time who met with the club standards. Let me
take a look at her." 

	 At Agent J's urging I stepped out from behind him, where I had been
standing, into the full view of Lou. When he saw me, his eyes got very, very
wide. His eyes looked me up and down, lingering for a long time on my chest. I
felt myself get warm, flushed all over. Lou then looked at my face, and I
smiled, my eyes meeting his. I saw him exhale heavily. 

	 "Jesus.....you're the sexiest, and prettiest black woman I ever
saw. Eddie was right, for once. All my clients are going to go nuts over
you!!" He twirled his finger indicating his desire for me to turn around. In
my pleasant fuzziness, I did as he requested. 

	 

	 Lou whistled softly, and then remarked. "Damn, what an ass! Coupled
with those big tits, you are some piece of ass. You're going to make a lot of
money tonight. Shit, I may even dance with you myself!" 

	 Lou then told us the house rules. He told us this was a full
friction bar, which means that the guys can basically do anything but
penetrate, either digitally or otherwise. Agent J was to be a floor walker,
making sure the rules were followed. I was told to charge $50.00 per lap
dance. The house got $10.00 out of that, and I kept $40.00. I got to keep all
tips. I was expected to dance on the main stage once every hour, and the rest
of the time was to be spent hustling lap dances. There was a make up and a
wardrobe person in the dressing room who would help get me ready. She used to
be in films, supposedly. Lou told us that I have 30 minutes to get ready, and
that I go on stage at 11:00 o'clock p.m. The club stays open until 4:00
o'clock a.m., so I had five hours to make as much money as possible. As Agent
J and I were walking away, to go and find the dressing room, Lou asked, "What
is your stage name anyway?" 

	 I had to remember whom I now appeared to be and replied, "My name
is Denise....can't I just use that?" 

	 Lou said, "I don't like, as a rule, any of you girls to use your
own names. It cuts down on the creeps trying to find you out in public.
Besides we already have one girl using the name Denise. I prefer that everyone
use a different stage name, to cut down on the confusion." 

	 "Well....I don't know. I guess I don't have one." 

	 "That's okay." Lou patted my hand in a patronizing manner, as if I
didn't have a brain in my head. "We'll think of a really sexy name for you,
before you go on stage." I was really starting to hate all of these names. It
was confusing, and it was getting hard to keep track of exactly who I was,
with everything that was going on. 

	 Now, here I was sitting in front of a make up mirror. The
wardrobe/make-up person had finished with me 5 minutes ago. The face in the
mirror was the prettiest that I've seen it so far, which is saying a lot. It
was the very picture of seductiveness.....sex. It was hard to accept that it
was really me. She had dressed me in a white, sequined g-string, and white
pumps, with 6-inch heels. The strange thing was that it wasn't difficult for
me to walk in them. They felt........right, somehow. The rest of the outfit
was a skin-tight white, one-piece mini-dress. I didn't have any bra on. The
wardrobe/makeup person told me that the one-piece dress, and no bra, would
make it easier to get dressed, and undressed. With my boobs, I didn't need a
bra anyway! The ultra thin material for the dress did very little to conceal
my large nipples. 

	 

	 She hustled me up to the curtain which separated the back stage
from the main stage. Lou met me there. He looked me over, from head to toe,
and said, "You look fabulous. You're going to knock them dead. Now, you'll be
on the main stage for three songs. On the first song, you don't remove
anything, just shake it, tempt, and tease them. On the second, you take off
the dress, and let them see your tits. On the third, you take off the
g-string, leaving only your garter. They tell me your pussy is shaved and
pierced. The guys are gonna' love that!" 

	 He continued with his instructions. "Just stay here until you hear
your name. When you do, burst through the curtain, and do your stuff. By the
way, we picked a real sexy stage for you..'Cinnamon.' Now just remember you
are Cinnamon for the rest of the night! Any questions?" 

	 "N-n-no." I replied, nervously. 

	 Lou patted me on the ass, saying, "Don't be nervous, Babe. Just
relax and you'll be great." 

	 From the booth on the main stage, I heard the announcer cut in, as
the song that was playing began to fade. "Okay gentlemen, that was
Jasmine.........Jasmine. She will be around for private dances, so look for
her, and take care of this nice young lady. She'll take care of you." 

	 Now a new song had started, one that I recognized, and even liked:
"Fallen Angel" by the rock group Poison. I started to move, and gyrate my hips
to get ready to go on stage. I closed my eyes, picturing how I had seen other
strippers dance on stage. I concentrated on imitating that movement. My tis
were bouncing up and down with the movement. I opened my eyes to look down at
my chest. The combination of extremely cold air, my movement, and the
anticipation of what I was about to do had enlarged my nipples to such an
extent that they almost poked through the thin cotton dress. 

	 The announcer came back on over the song. "Guys....have we got
something special for you. The ORIGINAL fallen angel. Straight from the Big
Apple....New York. She's hot, and oooohhh so sweet. Big Apple pie ala mode!!
Here she is, brown sugar......Cinnamon!!" 

	 That was my cue. I put on what I hoped was my sexiest smile, and
burst through the curtain. The place was packed. It was wall to wall guys,
with an occasional woman. I was greeted with whistles, applause, assorted
"whoas" or other expressions of surprise, and a "look at her" or two. I
pranced around the perimeter of the stage. All of the guys sitting around the
main stage reached up to touch my foot, or legs, as I passed by. Guys were
'whooping', whistling and hollering after me. 

	 I tried to think of something to do. I had seen other strippers,
when I was a man, play with the metal pole, treating it as if it was a penis.
I danced, and gyrated, up to the pole. I stroked it lovingly, closed my eyes,
and rubbed my cheeks against it. I went to my knees, and began to move my
hands up and down the pole as if I was jerking it off. Then, pausing, I kissed
and licked the length of the poll, as I tried to imagine what I would like to
have a woman do to me (the old me). The crowd responded with an appreciative
roar. Paper money of all denominations rained down on me. 

	 

	 I looked around me. Men who used to be sitting were now crowding
the stage. Men were about 4 or 5 deep at the stage. They were all holding out
money for me. I don't know if it was the hormones flooding my bloodstream, the
Absinthe, or both, but I liked this. I liked being the center of attention,
adored, and wanted by everyone. As Matthew Waters, I was just an ordinary,
average guy. I was often ignored, and looked over by women that I was
attracted to. I always wanted to be the one everyone wanted to be with. Now I
was, although as a member of the opposite sex. Nevertheless, I reveled in the
attention, responding accordingly. 

	 I crawled over to the end of the stage on my hands and knees like a
wild animal. All my inhibitions were melting away. When I got there, I
reclined in a sensual position so that everyone could easily see my crotch.
With one long fingernail, I stretched the garter belt to create an opening for
the guys to put in money. They were stuffing in the bills as fast as they
could. I snapped my head back, flipping my long hair, which was in my eyes,
back over my head. 

	 I noticed there was one man who had a bill in his mouth. I had seen
other guys do this to dancers, when I was a man. Hell.....I had even done it
when I was a man. I crawled over to this guy, and leaned in close so he could
smell the overpowering perfume the wardrobe lady gave me to wear: the sweet
floral scent it seemed all dancers wore. I took the bill out of his mouth with
my lips, oh so softly brushing his. My big, big boobs were suspended right
under his chin. This must have turned all of the other men on, because
everybody wanted the same thing done to them. I swivel, sashayed, a gyrated,
around the stage taking as many bills as I could. 

	 About this time, the first song started to fade. Everyone was at a
fever pitch, wanting more. " I must be doing something right," I thought to
myself, in my Absinthe induced state. The thought made me relax even more.
This wasn't so bad. As a matter of fact I was starting to have fun. This was
stroking that part of my soul that always wanted to be popular. 

	 The next song was starting, "Girls, Girls, Girls" by Motley Crue.
Another song that I liked a lot. They were making it so easy for me to dance!!
The men surrounding the stage started to yell things like: 

	 "TAKE IT OFF!!" 

	 "GET 'EM OUT!" 

	 '"LET THEM PUPPIES BREATH!!" 

	 I knew what they wanted. They wanted to see my huge, succulent
tits. If I were in their position, I would want to see them to. The funny
thing was I actually wanted to show all of those men my boobs. I liked being
liked, and wanted them to like me even more! 

	 If it was possible, I was moving even more gracefully and naturally
than before. My moves were fluid and catlike. 

	 "CINNAMON
	..CINNAMON
	....." The men shouted my
stage name in unison. 

	 

	 In a deliberately slow fashion, I pulled one strap of my meager
dress over my shoulder. I freed my arm from the strap. I then pulled the other
strap from the other shoulder, and extricated that arm. My hair hung all
around me like a cloak. Now the only thing holding up the front of the dress
were my heaving breasts. The crowd was going wild. 

	 "CINNAMON.......CINNAMON
	.." 

	 I hesitated for the briefest of seconds. My eyes instinctively
found those of Agent J, standing at his post. He knew from my hesitation that
I was having trouble getting beyond this point. He nodded to me as if to say
that it was alright, and showed me the neuralizer in his hand. He was trying
to communicate to me, by tomorrow, I wouldn't even remember this. I nodded,
slightly, to acknowledge him, as I pulled down the front of my dress. My big
boobs were exposed to the men in the club. 

	 The cheers were overwhelming. I could hardly hear myself think.
Ever so slowly, in an enticing manner, I wiggled out of the rest of the dress.
My boobs danced in an alluring manner. The dress dropped to the floor at my
feet, so I kicked it out of the way with my high-heeled shoe. I looked down at
my brown melons, and saw that I was extremely turned on. I got the undeniable
urge to play with them.....play with myself. 

	 I shut out the audience, dropping to my knees, easing back to sit
on the backs of my legs. The position was so submissive. I didn't care, at
this point what the effect on the men was. I just wanted to play with my tits.
I grasped them in my hands, and began to massage them, caress them. It felt
soooo good. I began to play with my nipples, with my fingers, making them
bigger, and bigger. I was only vaguely aware of people throwing money at me. I
was lost in the moment. As I did in the tub, only hours ago, I pulled one tit
up to my mouth, sucking on the nipple, while rubbing my crotch through the
g-string with my free hand. 

	 The screams and yells of "CINNAMON.........CINNAMON" brought me out
of my reverie. There were bills everywhere, as far as the eye could see, on
the stage floor. The floor looked more green now than anything else. This was
easy money. I had to do something else to separate these men from their money. 

	 I went back up to the pole, embracing it lovingly. I made sure the
pole went into the separation between my breasts. I pushed my boobs together
with my hands, engulfing the pole. Slowly, I started to go up and down to
create the illusion that was being screwed between my tits. I closed my eyes,
imagining what it would be like. I slipped easily into a fantasy world,
imagining what it would be like to have Agent J straddle me, and tit-fuck me
with his huge erect tool. 

	 I was getting close to having an orgasm. I opened my eyes to the
sight of even more money raining down on me. The men were ready.....primed for
me to approach them again. I knew what I wanted to do. It was something that I
saw another stripper do once. Scanning the audience, I located a guy with a
bill in his mouth. I eased on over to him. 

	 

	 Without even thinking, I thrust my tits into his face, so that the
bill was in my cleavage. With both hands, I pushed my tits together, trapping
the bill, and slowly pulling it out of the man's mouth. When I had it out, I
grabbed it with one hand, and threw it behind me so it could be swept up like
all of the others. My boobs glistened with the sweat and saliva of the man who
just tasted my bountiful treasures up close. The rest of the guys got the
idea. Soon everybody had bills in their mouth. I spent the rest of the song
doing the same thing to each and every man around the stage. 

	 The second song was now winding down. The announcer cut in with
another voice-over. "Is it hot in here guys
	or is it me? I don't know
about you, but I'm dripping in sweat. This is the last song for
Cinnamon......all 5'2" of her. So, show your appreciation and get those bills
out." 

	 Words alone can not begin to describe how sexually aroused I was by
all of this. Agent J's strategy was working to perfection. By this time, I had
that all too familiar urgency in my pussy, and my g-string was sopping wet.
The second song came to an end, with the third song getting louder. This song
was still ANOTHER song that I liked: "Lick it Up" by Kiss. 

	 This time I didn't need to search out Agent J's eyes for the
encouragement to remove my last article of clothing. I actually couldn't wait
to get the g-string of so that I could touch and fondle my own pussy! 

	 The men surrounding the stage were yelling, "WE WANT
PUSSY........WE WANT PUSSY!" That was all of the encouragement that I needed.
I assumed what I thought would be a provocative pose. My extremely long hair
was draped all around me, over my shoulders, in my face, and clinging to my
skin by a light sheen of perspiration. I imagined it would make me look
wanton, so I did nothing to change it. 

	 With my left hand, I pulled the small piece of cloth at my crotch
quickly to the side in a sort of peek-a-boo. I gave them enough of a view for
them to see that my pussy was shaved. The cheering from them began to grow in
intensity again. The pressure in my loins was insistent, demanding attention.
I bent forward at the waist, pulling my g-string down. I felt the dead weight
of by boobs hanging down, pulling me forward. They swayed as I eased the
panties down to my ankles. I picked them up with my right, and twirled them
around my index finger. The small article of clothing was soaked with my
juices. 

	 I located another guy alongside the stage who looked particularly
enthusiastic. I danced up to him in a sensual manner. I took the panties,
spreading the elastic as wide as I could, and put them over his head. It
brought a new round of cheers. 

	 I went back to the pole for a third time. This time, I put my left
foot on the pole, and slid it ever upward until I was in a vertical split. It
exposed my clean shaven pussy for everyone to see. Now the guys could see that
my pussy was also pierced. More money rained onto the stage floor. I took my
hand and began to rub the lips of my vagina. The touch of my own hand sent me
into orbit. It felt so great that the only thing I could do is moan. I grasped
the pussy ring between my thumb and forefinger, pulling my labia out, so that
everyone could see up into my vagina. 

	 

	 From the looks on everyone's face, it appeared that I was the main
course of a holiday feast. They all had that look of sexual hunger on their
face. I eased myself down to the floor, continuing to rub myself faster and
faster. I laid upon my back. I needed release!! I had been warned against
penetration of any kind, even self penetration. I didn't care, I wouldn't be a
woman forever. I just wanted release. I slipped my middle finger into my
lubricated pussy all of the way up to my knuckle. The feeling of penetration
WASN'T enough. I started to move my finger in and out, and my vagina relaxed,
getting looser. I added my index finger. My back arched, and my head went
back, as I treated the guys to a finger-fucking. I felt crumpled up paper
money falling upon me as the men showed their appreciation. It was time to
rejoin them. I pulled my fingers out of my pussy, and stuck them in my mouth,
tasting my essence. I eagerly licked all of the juices, to the enjoyment of
all assembled. 

	 All of the men were reaching in toward me, wanting to touch me. I
flipped in to a prone position, crawling toward them. When I got to them, I
pulled the garter belt as high as I could so that it was at my extreme upper
thigh. I pulled the elastic of the garter, and begged for more money. One Guy
took his bill, and used it to trace all around my body, including my pussy and
ass. The feeling was fantastic. I made my way all around the stage. Each man
used their money to tease, and tickle my body. 

	 Finally the third song came to an end. The stage was covered in
money. As I collected my things, the staff came out with the brooms to sweep
up the rest of my money. The announcer came back on. "Guys......what more can
I say. That was Cinnamon. She was everything we said....and more. Now guys, if
she was that good on stage IMAGINE what she'll be like in a private dance.
Judging by your response EVERYBODY will want to dance with her. If you
don't....I will!!" 

	 Everybody LOVED me. That thought made me happy, and I left with the
biggest smile upon my face. Damn, I needed a cigarette! 


                                   M.I.B.

 CHAPTER FOURTEEN 


	 The first thing that I did, once I got back stage, and into the
dressing room, was to bum a cigarette from one of the other girls. I wondered
why I ever found this "minor" habit to be so disgusting and offensive. It was
so relaxing and soothing. I was even starting to like the taste of tobacco. 

	 A couple of the other girls gathered around me, and started to rant
and rave about my dance up on stage. I found that I genuinely liked being the
center of attention. I genuinely liked being thought of as good at something.
In my real identity as Matthew Waters, I was only regarded as a so-so
attorney. I aspired to be great, but just lacked the tools that great trial
attorneys have. At the base of my desire to be a great trial attorney, was the
desire to be the center of attention, to have people look at ME. Now I was the
center of attention, outrageously so, although it wasn't in a form, or forum,
I would have chosen, even in my wildest dreams. The effect, however, was still
the same. I was THRILLED down to the depths of my very soul!

	 "Damn, Cinnamon. Where did you ever learn to dance like that? It
was like, soooo erotic!" One of the girls, a big blonde, asked.

	 Another, smaller blonde, said, while looking at still another, "Did
you see the reaction of all the men out there? They were so hot for her. I've
never seen so much money from one dance."

	 That other girl, a redhead, who went by the stage name of Clarisse,
quipped, in a voice dripping venom, "Yeah. Its gonna be real tough to get any
lap dance action with Cinnamon around."

	 It was clear that she was jealous of my success, and of my physical
gifts. It was also clear that, up until now, she was the prima donna. She was
regarded as the prettiest, and the girl who got the most attention, got
requested the most, and probably made the most money. She now felt threatened
by ME!

	 All of the ladies were squealing and laughing just like high school
girls. With my Absinthe induced high it was hard to think straight. The only
thing that I knew was how wonderful I felt. The problem was, I was now one of
those girls, if not the most popular of those girls. Clarisse stood off to the
side to protest the fact that I had vaulted to her place as the "homecoming
queen.".

	 Another problem was that my "act" had left me in an extremely high
state of arousal. My bare nipples stuck out to announce that fact to the
entire world. I had such an urge to stick something, anything into my pussy.
Seeing other naked strippers running around the dressing room was not helping
any. My still male mind wanted to kiss and fondle the other girls that were
crowding around me. That would be awkward, seeing as now they were all much
taller than me now. I was definitely the shortest girl there.


	 I decided that I had better get dressed again before anything
happened. Of course, I had to get a new g-string, because some lucky guy at
stageside was the new owner of my old pair, that was soaked with my juices. I
stepped into the new g-string, and wiggled back into my skin tight dress. The
tightness of the dress made it difficult to get it over my bountiful curves.
Once I did, I had to adjust my boobs inside the dress.

	 Those other strippers continued to babble. The exception was
Clarisse, who eyed me warily from across the dressing room. "You have such a
great body Cinnamon. Who did your boob job? Yours look so good. I've been
thinking of making mine bigger.....not as big as yours though!"

	 Another one asked, "Cinnamon, can you teach me some of your moves?
They were soooo sexy."

	 Finally I spoke. "Girls, girls. I really appreciate it, but this
really the first time I ever did this."

	 They found this hard to believe. They thought that I was so
natural, and wanted to know how I did it. I gave them an answer which wasn't
too far from the truth. "I just put myself in their shoes, and asked myself
what would they WANT to see me do. I thought they would just like to see a
stripper "do" herself on stage, in public."

	 That set off a new round of discussion between the girls. At this
point I had to walk away from so many sexy women, or else I would have to
attack them. The high state of sexual arousal was becoming unbearable. In
short, I was horny as hell. I had to have another cigarette to calm myself
down.

	 About that time, they brought in the sorted pile of money that then
men had thrown at me. I added the bills in my garter belt. After it was all
added up, I had $757.00 in cash. At this rate, just by dancing alone, I will
have several thousand dollars by the end of the night, after only working for
a about 5 hours. It wasn't even that hard or stressful of a job. Already I was
making more than I ever did as an attorney. I made it just by being the center
of everyone's sexual attention. It was really starting to wreak havoc with my
sense of values. For the very briefest of moments, I actually thought I would
much rather make a living doing this than deal with the constant fighting of
practicing law.

	 There was no time for thinking. I had to go out and try to get more
money so Agent J and I could get to Miami, and get my body back. Despite the
incredible way I felt, I still, desperately wanted my own body back. I exited
the dressing room out into the club. Agent J was waiting for me at the outside
of the door. Everyone's eyes turned to look at me as I entered the club, and I
felt a rush of pride that everyone liked me so much.

	 "How the hell did you ever learn how to do, what you just did on
stage?" Agent J whispered to me.


	 I had to whisper back to him in such a way that it would not look
obvious, and look like we were boyfriend-girlfriend. It wouldn't be good for
business. "I just did what you told me to do, and imitated what I've seen
other strippers do." Then I lied, thinking about my bathroom adventure.. "I've
never done ANYTHING like that before."

	 "Y-you were just so natural. I've NEVER seen any stripper do
anything like THAT. It was just so........so........so........sexual. Every
guy out here has been asking for you."

	 Now I was getting a little bit anxious. "Will. I don't know if I
can do these friction dances with those guys. Dancing up on stage was bad
enough. It turned this body on so much that its taking all of my concentration
not to go attack some girl. I can't handle it. The drink you gave me isn't
helping. I feel like I'm right on the edge of losing control."

	 "That is the idea, to make you lose control. We'll make more money
that way. Just look how much you made on stage. Just relax, let it go, and get
into being a desired woman....a sex object. We'll make a killing. Just
remember that by tomorrow morning, you won't have the slightest memory of any
of this. The neuralizer will just erase it. Okay?"

	 "Okay. I will" We were joined by Lou who appeared out of nowhere.

	 "Babe, you are the HOTTEST thing I've ever seen, and I've been in
this business for 25 years. There's a famous porn producer here tonight. After
seeing you he wants to sign you to an exclusive contract. He wants to meet you
very badly. But first......there are a couple of the Jacksonville Jaguars here
tonight. They don't have a football game tomorrow, because of a bye. They're
some of my best customers, and they want to meet you." Lou said, grabbing my
arm to lead me away. 

	 Lou looked at Agent J, saying, "You get back to your post Smith. I
realize that you guys came in together, but I can't have you seen hanging out
with her. The guys in here will think you guys have something going. While
you're here, you steer clear of her. Got it?!?"

	 Agent J looked very concerned, but started to walk away anyway.
"Yeah....I got it!"

	 Lou started to escort me through the club. Every guy turned from
what they doing, no matter who they were with, to watch me pass. Absolutely
every man had lust, and a look of hunger in his eyes. For some reason, which I
could not explain, it made me extremely happy that every guy was watching me,
and wanted to be with me. I decided to take Agent J's advice. I stopped trying
to think about it, relaxed, and tried to enjoy being a girl. I could feel a
big smile grow on my face.

	 Lou escorted me to a private section where there were about 12
guys. All of them were football players with the Jacksonville Jaguars.
Although I am not a Jaguars fan, I do love football. I recognized a couple of
them from television. They were all big, and powerfully built. That just made
me feel smaller than I already was, and weaker. I recognized one guy
specifically.....Bubba Wilkens, the star defensive end. This guy was about
6'10" and 325 lbs if he was an ounce. He was as black as the ace of spades. A
couple of the commentators on tv, during the broadcasts, had tongue-in-cheek
suggested that he was genetic mutant. Seeing him in person, I was starting to
think they were right.


	 I was introduced to each one of them. I said "Hi" in my soft and
sweet feminine voice. They only difference was, without my noticing it, I
didn't have to imitate that kind of voice anymore. My voice had naturally
assumed that quality. All of the guys were good looking, but I just couldn't
take my eyes off of Bubba Wilkens. I don't know if it was because he was so
good looking, or his sheer size. The more that I stared, the more the huge
difference in size was turning me on. I began to feel those familiar
sensations, making my high state of arousal even worse. One of the guys
sitting next to Bubba on a short couch, got up to give me a place to sit.
Bubba also got up in a gentlemanly gesture, to allow me to take a seat.

	 Now that Bubba was standing to his full height of 6'10", I could
see just how much bigger he was than I. I barely came to his upper abdomen. I
felt like a midget, or, more accurately like a little pre-adolescent girl. My
panties were soaking wet again. Being small and weak was an incredible turn-on.

	 Lou took my hand off of his arm and told the group of men, "Well,
I'll just leave Cinnamon here in your care. Have a good time gentlemen." Now
looking at me he stated, "Cinnamon....remember that you dance again in about
an hour. Treat these guys right!"

	 "Okay Louie. I'll take care of them." I replied, smiling.

	 I took a seat on the end of the couch that the one football player
had vacated, crossing my legs at the thighs. It was a very lady-like image.
Bubba sat down right next took me. His weight as he sat caused a huge
depression in the cushions. It created a downhill slope, and I found myself
sliding down that hill into Bubba. This was it! Show time!

	 I snuggled into Bubba's side, underneath his arm. He responded by
putting his huge hand on the bare skin of my thigh. His touch instantly made
my nipples get even harder than they were before. I looked up at Bubba, but he
wasn't looking in my eye, or even at my face. He was just staring at my tits.
It was funny. A day ago, that would have upset me. Now, I felt a rush of
strange pride that Bubba like my big boobs.

	 All the football players struck up a conversation. They were asking
everything about me, where I was from, how old I was, what things I liked,
etc. They were all very nice. Over half of them weren't even interested in my
make believe responses. They only wanted to watch my lips as my mouth moved,
and imagine it around their hard cock. They only wanted to watch my boobs
bobble as I gestured. They were hypnotized. The entire time Bubba kept
stroking my thighs with his hand. I sunk deeper in to him, and he put his arm
around me. He slipped his big arm around my small waist. His hand brushed the
underside of my tit. I started to wonder what it would like to have him take
my melons in his hands, squeeze them
	.... The thoughts were driving
me crazy.


	 There was more small talk. All the while, Bubba was rubbing his
hand back and forth on the undersides of my breast. I could tell that he
wanted nothing more than to take them into his hands. It was getting hard for
me to sit still! I uncrossed, and opened my legs slightly. Bubba took this as
a sign, and caressed my inner thighs. I thought that I was going to just die.
I decided that I better make my pitch now and get to work: enough of the
preliminaries. I looked around at all of the football players and said as
sweetly as possible. "So does anyone want to dance with me? You boys are
making me so HOT!"

	 Almost immediately, and not that I was a bit surprised, Bubba cut
in. "Well I would be happy to dance with you Cinnamon!" None of the other guys
even considered challenging Bubba's authority. He had already, in deed, laid
claim to me. He might as well have been marking his territory.

	 I stood up, taking Bubba by the hand. "Come with me sweetheart. We
have some private booths in the back so that we won't be disturbed." I pulled
on his hand encouraging him. Bubba got up, rising again to his full height. He
hung on to my hand as if he was a little boy hanging on to his mother. As I
led him away he followed me as if he were a puppy dog.

	 You can imagine what all of this was doing to my ego. All of my
life, I was pretty much looked over, ignored. the sexual power that I had over
everyone, just because I happened to be wearing this body was starting to
become as intoxicating as the Absinthe, which was still racing through my
blood stream. That liquid was mixed right now with a generous amount of female
hormones. Hormones which were messing with the only male part of me which was
left....my mind. A part which slowly, inexorably was being eroded.

	 I lead Bubba back to one of the back booths, and had him sit in one
of the deep couches. Next, I had him spread his legs, as I had seen other
strippers do, as I had other strippers do to me. A new song was just starting.
I started to move and gyrate my hips as I did on stage. Then, I fondled my
tits through my dress, bringing my nipples to full attention. It didn't take
much. While I moved, I slowly, oh so slowly, peeled off my dress. The
g-string, quickly, followed suit. I stood before Bubba totally naked, except
for a garter belt, and high heels.

	 I moved between Bubba's legs, standing very close now. He reached
up to me, and took both of my big boobs in his hands. It was like an
electrical charge ran up an down my spine. Fortunately, my nipples couldn't
get any harder or bigger. They felt like they were ready to explode. Bubba
began caressing and massaging my breasts. The feeling was indescribably
pleasurable. I moved into him, laying on top of him. He wrapped his big,
powerful arms around me in an embrace.

	 I nestled my face in the crook of Bubba's neck, and could smell his
aftershave mixed with his own natural scent. I could feel Bubba's erection
against my upper thighs. With my hands I opened up the front of his shirt,
exposing his chest. Then I touched his broad chest with my tiny hands. Bubba's
skin was so warm. He pulled me back into him so that my bare breasts were
pushed into his chest. I felt the curly hair of his chest rub up against my
overly sensitive nipples. It only made me more excited. In my mind, it was
like a light switch being turned off. There were absolutely NO male thoughts
left. 


	 I moved down his frame until my loins were in contact with his
loins. I began to thrust and grind my loins against his, and I could feel his
erection push against me. I laid my head against his chest, as I did so,
rubbing my cheeks against Bubba's chest. As I was thrusting and grinding, I
felt him grab my ass cheeks and squeeze. It succeeded in making me want to rub
against him even harder.

	 "Baby's got back." Bubba commented in a deep bass voice, about my
ass.

	 I was too busy to respond to him. Instead I slowly slid down his
massive frame until I was practically on my knees in front of him. I had my
gigantic tits right on his crotch. I could feel his erection through his
pants, in the separation of my cleavage. I started to rub my tits up and down
to simulate that he was screwing me there. It was so hot. At the same time I
started to finger my dripping pussy. I needed to have something fill me so
badly. I continued to rub his crotch with my tits, his pelvic thrust meeting
each up and down movement!

	 The first song had ended, so I asked Bubba, softly, "Do you want me
to stop now???"

	 "No way girl, keep on goin" He responded. From the sound of his
voice, and the look in his eye, I could see that I had him wrapped around my
little finger. He wasn't going anywhere, at least until I could get him to cum
in his pants. For some reason that I could not explain, I felt compelled to
give him just that type of release. I needed to!

	 The next song started. Now I dropped down to my knees for real. I
knelt before Bubba, between his legs in an extremely submissive position. I
reached up with my well manicured hands and started to rub and fondle his
erection through his pants. I knew when I was a guy I needed some nasty talk
by a stripper to get really excited. I decided that is what I should do.

	 "Oh Bubba.....you feel so big !! I want you. I want to take you in
my mouth. Suck on your big black cock. Would you like me suck you?"

	 Bubba's eyes got very wide. Bulls eye! "Oh God, Cinnamon
yes
	" He was really into it now.

	 I laid my head down on his crotch. Then I kissed his erection,
through his pants, with my fleshy lips. While rubbing the sides with my hands,
I ran my cheeks up and down the erection, like a kitten rubbing up against its
master's ankles. I closed my eyes just enjoying the feel of it. Suddenly I
felt him grab my hair, forcing me down on his bulge. It only turned me on even
more. I was a tiny girl being manhandled my this mountain of a man. I started
to lick his bulge up and down along the zipper. Just from his sheer size, I
could tell he was getting close to 'blurting' in his drawers.

	 I stood up and started to repeat some of the dance moves that I did
up on stage. That included showing him my pussy. Only this time I was close
enough for him to be in constant physical touch with me. His huge hands were
all over me, pawing me......manhandling me! I turned around and sat on his
crotch, with my back facing him. 


	 By this time, the third song was starting. Again I asked Bubba if
he wanted me to stop. Again his reply was no.....an emphatic no!! I started to
slowly slide my rear end up and down on his bulge. He liked my rear end so
much I thought he would like it if I played like he was "doing" me in my butt.
This got the best reaction so far. He grabbed my big boobs from behind, and
started to squeeze them roughly. Bubba began to pinch, and roll my nipples
between his big stubby fingers. I thought I was just going scream!! I adjusted
my position slightly so that my pussy could make contact with his bulge. It
felt sooo good, but I wanted more......... much, much more. 

	 Bubba started to move me up and down even faster. He was just so
strong, and big, that he threw me around like a rag doll. With a free hand, I
felt him on my inner thigh. Then he was on my pubic mound, just rubbing me,
and rubbing me. Bubba even tried to penetrate me with his finger, but I still
had enough of my senses to move his hand away. If he penetrated me, Agent J,
or others would be over. There would be trouble!

	 Then, with out warning, I felt Bubba's bulge jerking, and spasming
beneath me. I had succeeded in making him cum in his pants. I felt a wet spot
grow where his pants touched my butt. I got up and faced Bubba. I laid back
down on him face first, smooshing my boobs into his chest. He gave me a bear
hug of an embrace.

	 "Damn, you are good, Baby. No stripper has ever made me go in my
pants before. You are worth every dollar."

	 "You don't mind paying me?" I asked.

	 "Not at all, Baby. How much?"

	 "Well it was three songs.....so it would be $150.00. Is that too
much?"

	 "Are you kidding? With what I make? That's nothing!" He reached
into his pocket and pulled out a wad of bills. Bubba proceeded to peel off 5
$100.00 bills. He stuck them slowly into my garter, saying, "There Honey. The
rest is for you! Bubba's gonna want to see you again tonight, understand?
There's more where that came from."

	 "Wow!" I thought. "I just made $500.00 in about 10 minutes, just
having fun, and making a guy happy. What a way to make a living!" I was so
thrilled with Bubba's tip that I kissed him deeply on the lips without even
thinking it odd or strange. It felt.....well.....natural.

	 "Thank you Sweetheart." I said.

	 Bubba rose up to go, commenting, "Get dressed, and come back over.
I'm sure all of the other guys will want to dance with you when I tell them
how INCREDIBLE you are."


	 I smiled, and told him that I'll be right there. I quickly got
dressed, thoughtfully adjusting my boobs in my tight dress. I was starting to
have some fun. This wasn't as bad as what I thought it was going to be. All I
had to do was keep doing the same thing over and over again, and the money
would keep flowing.

	 Shortly I rejoined the group of football players. For the next two
hours, I danced with each of the players.......Bubba twice. The guy had a
thing for me. I had to pause to dance back up on stage for one set.....with
the same result. The time was just flying by. However, with each dance I was
becoming hornier and hornier! 


                         M.I.B.


	 CHAPTER FIFTEEN 


	 After each dance onstage, and after each private dance, I gave all
of the money to Agent J for safekeeping. I had no concept of exactly how much
money I had made, although I did get the sense there was a lot of it. I was
trying not to worry about it, and actually not think of too much. I was trying
to stay relaxed, put my mind on hold, and let my body take over. It was
working as long as I didn't think too much. 

	 I made sure the money got to Agent J following the third dance up
on stage. I needed to relax, just for a second, because I had been going
non-stop, since hitting the stage at 11:00 p.m. Absolutely every guy in the
place wanted a private lap dance from me. I can't say as I really blame them,
as I had done my best to make them all hot and bothered. In the meantime, I
had been in an almost constant state of extreme arousal, without release for a
little over on three hours. It was now 2:07 p.m. I needed a breather. 

	 That gave me a chance to spend some time with the other girls back
in the dressing room. We even ordered a few pizzas that we had delivered. All
of the other girls, except for Clarisse, were very friendly. They were
especially friendly to me, which brought even more icy stares from Clarisse.
Regardless, I found myself actually having fun just sitting and laughing with
the girls, and eating pizza. We compared notes, and discussed the physical
attributes of the guys we had danced with. They were all envious of the fact
that I had danced with each one of the Jaguars. I really and truly, felt like
one of the girls. 

	 This, in and of itself, was very odd. In my former existence, I
found it hard to talk to, or approach women, particularly beautiful women. At
times I could be backwardly shy. I was learning, from the inside out that
women were just like everyone else. They were just people like guys, who
needed the same things. Everyone needed to be held, needed to be touched, and
needed most of all, somebody to love, and love them back. The revelation hit
me like a ton of bricks, even though there was still Absinthe running around
in my bloodstream. One of its "advantages" was that, as technically a poison,
its effects lasted longer than regular alcohol. 

	 I dwelled on that revelation for a moment. If it were true, than
maybe if I was stuck in this body permanently, it wouldn't be so bad. With my
looks, and figure, I could find someone to love, something, I had truly missed
for a long while. I could make much more money than I ever could as a mediocre
attorney. If I put some of the money away, invest it right, I could live very
comfortably. The question was, could I do it? Could I live as a real woman for
the rest of my life, and everything that meant? It would mean that someday, if
I found someone, I could get pregnant, bear children, and be a mother. 

	 

	 I shook my head in silent denial, feeling my long thick hair brush
against the back of my neck. I just didn't know if I could actually do it.
There were alternatives. I could become a full-fledged lesbian. In this day
and age, gay people, including lesbians, got wide acceptance, and could do
almost everything heterosexual people did. The social stigma had pretty much
faded into a thing of the past. There was absolutely no doubt that my male
mind was strongly attracted to women. As a matter of fact, I was surprised
that I hadn't gotten propositioned by any of the other girls that leaned that
way, from the way that I was lustfully watching them. I guess they just
figured that the way I turned guys on that I was into them. That was the crux
of my problem right now. Even though my mind was into women, my body was
getting more and more attracted to the men that I was dancing with. I didn't
know where this would end up. I was having fun though. 

	 I was shaken out of my thoughts by Lou, who poked his head into the
dressing room, looked right at me and said, "all right Cinnamon. Breaktime is
over. There are guys out here that are asking to see you, so get your butt in
gear. There's money to be made!" Lou withdrew his head, and was gone. 

	 I stood up to go out to the club, but said, with a touch of humor,
to the rest of the girls, "ahh, my adoring public........." That drew a round
of hearty laughter. 

	 One of the other girls cried out to me, "You go girl!!" 

	 That made me smile. I felt as if I were starting to make friends
with these girls. If I had to live like this, maybe I would come back here. 

	 I exited the dressing room back into the club. Agent J was waiting
for me just outside the dressing room door. He drew me to one side, in a
little alcove, where nobody could see us. 

	 "How are you holding up Waters? Are you okay?" he asked with a
genuine look of concern upon his face. However, there was something more, an
aura of sadness or sorrow, that I couldn't quite put my finger on. 

	 "I'm okay actually. I'm handling it, and trying to have fun like
you told me. I think I'll be able to make it to the end of the night," I
assured him, unconsciously placing my hand on his arm. 

	 "That's why I pulled you aside. I just counted the money, and we
have $4,123.00. That should be more than enough to last us through the rest of
this thing. We can get out of here if you want. I don't want to put you
through anything more than I already have. You've done a helluva job to get
this money. I don't know if I could have done the same in your position." It
almost seemed like Agent J wanted to leave for some reason, which I could not
fathom. 

	 "No......no. I'm okay. We're here now, even though I didn't want to
do this at first. I might as well finish out the rest of the night. Besides,
as long as we are making good money, we should get as much as possible. We
don't know what we're going to face, and what we'll need to get. I'd hate to
lose this because we run out of money. I have less than two hours left, and
only one more stage dance. It'll be okay Will. I've come this far." 

	 

	 I hadn't noticed it until I was done speaking, but while we were
talking, I had moved close enough to Agent J so that my boobs were rubbing up
against his arm. Even worse, even though I now, recognized that fact I
lingered, almost wanting to keep them there, so that he could feel them. It
was Agent J who pulled away from me with an even greater look of distress upon
his face. Why would this upset him so much? 

	 O-o-okay," he mumbled. "Just be.......be careful! 

	 As I walked away from him, I thought to myself, "odd! First he
wanted me to do this, but now that I'm here doing as he asked, and having fun,
he wants me to leave!?! I wonder what's wrong with him. I'll ask him after it
is all over." I looked back at Agent J, still in the alcove, for a second.
There was a look extreme pain in his eyes. For a second, I thought that he was
going to cry. Then he saw me, and assumed is normal, stolid demeanor. Now I
was very concerned about him!! 

	 I got about five paces into the club before I spied Lou sitting
with another man of Hispanic descent. Lou motioned for me to come over to
their table. I sashayed my way toward them, attracting the attention of
everyone. I could literally feel the weight of a hundred different sets of
eyes on my back. It just didn't seem to bother me anymore. In fact I liked it
that people noticed me. 

	 Lou introduced the Hispanic man as Gabriel Ortega, a producer of
x-rated movies. I went to shake his hand, but instead he took it, lifted it to
his lips, and kissed it, in a very gallant way. It actually caused me to
blush, that is if I can blush with my dark African-American skin. Mr. Ortega
asked me to sit down and join them. 

	 "Cinnamon, I've been watching chu tonite, chu are a very sexy
woman." Ortega began with a thick Spanish or Mexican accent. "Chu are the most
sexiest senorita I've seen in many years. I would like to have cho in my
movies. Have cho ever thought of bein' a porn star?" 

	 "No, not really....." I replied quite honestly. 

	 Lou, who was on the other side of me, leaned in and whispered in my
ear, "don't blow this kid. This could be your shot at the big time. Money,
houses, cars, fame, all of that. Also I'll get a finder's fee from Gabby if
you take him up on it." 

	 "Cho should. I make you a big star. The biggest. There isn't a
black porn superstar right now, and you could come right in and be an
overnight success. With your moves, you can't be miss." 

	 I was just so stunned. First I'm a stripper, now people want me to
be a porn star. It was just too much to handle. Meekly, I said,
"I.......uh.........I-I d-don't know." 

	 "Look Cinnamon. I'm filming a picture down in Miami for the next
couple of days. I have a part for a black girl. Why don't chu come down and
try it? If you don't like, we go our separate ways. If you like, we make sweet
pictures together. I pay chu $5,000.00 to come down. What to chu say?" 

	 

	 "What would I have to do?" 

	 "Not too hard. Just a girl-girl thing with our star, Celeste. You
know of her?" 

	 I certainly did! Celeste was my favorite porn star. I had a vast
collection of her films, and have often masturbated to them. She was a total
sex goddess. Here I was being asked to have sex with her, although with the
body that I now possessed. Before I could even answer, Ortega asked, "chu got
no problem with girl-girl do chu? Chu seem to like men.?" 

	 If he only knew the truth. Before I thought better of it, I heard,
"Okay, I'll try it" come out of my mouth. I tried to rationalize my decision
by telling myself that Agent J and I were going to Miami anyway, and that we
could use this for a cover story. I just hoped that I could convince HIM of
that!! I just couldn't pass up the chance to have sex with CELESTE, of all
people, and get paid a lot of money for it, even though I would have to do it
as a woman. 

	 I tried to use some of my lawyerly negotiating skills. "You'll have
to throw in a hotel room, at a nice hotel, for me and my 'boyfriend' who also
serves as my bodyguard. Also, we get all meals." 

	 Ortega answered, "I'll tell chu what. If chu do something real
special the next time that chu're up on stage, I'll agree to chu demands. Do
we got a deal??" 

	 I looked at Lou, and asked him, "can I dance with no restrictions?" 

	 Lou took all of about two seconds before he said, "for you babe,
anything. I can see it now, we're all going to be rich. I need to put a sign
outside that says 'Home of Cinnamon Sugar'!" 

	 Lou's declaration suddenly made me very, very proud. I had never
gotten this much recognition, or accolades in my chosen profession as an
attorney. This was all becoming even more intoxicating then the Absinthe than
I ingested. For the slimmest fraction of a second, I though I would rather
stay here as Cinnamon, rather than going to get back my own body. I put that
thought right out of my head. 

	 Ortega instructed, "we'll get a car for you, to take you down.
We'll need you in front of the camera the day after tomorrow." 

	 "That's okay.....Will and I will get there on our own. Just tell
Lou here where I have to be and at what time, and we'll be there. I'd like to
get there by ourselves." 

	 Ortega had a contemplative look in his eye. "We wanted to do a
little change in your looks. The part calls for a black, well endowed,
business woman. We wanted to cut your hair, and make you look more
professional looking. Will that be a problem?" 

	 

	 "No," I eagerly agreed. I was only too happy to get rid of this ton
of hair. I thought I would have to cut it anyway. "I'll handle that. I'll get
a makeover tomorrow, before I come down. Will that work.? 

	 "That's perfect. I'll give Lou the hotel accommodations also." 

	 We all looked at each other. We had reached an agreement. Lou
turned to me and said, "well Cinnamon. There are plenty of other guys in here
that want to see you, so you better get on it. We only have an hour and 15
minutes until closing. We wouldn't to deprive any of our other customers of
your sweet charms....." 

	 "Okay Louie..." I said smiling. I couldn't help myself. I was
actually happy for the first time in a long time! I couldn't help myself,
because all of the things that I wanted, but was struggling to obtain before
the switch, were now coming my way. This was crazy! 

	 I thought it best to think about those things later. It was best to
stay on the business on hand. I figured that I had about 15-20 minutes before
I went up onstage again, so there was just enough time for 1 or 2 lap dances.
I had to find someone to dance with, but considering my current status, it
wouldn't be too hard. 

	 All around the club I saw the girls that I had made friends with,
trying to hustle lap dances from the men. Some were having some success,
others were not. Once I got up, and started to walk around, the attention of
all the men shifted to me. Their lustful eyes watched me wherever I went. Each
was hoping that they would be the one that I ask if they wanted a dance. 

	 I spied one guy back in the corner. He had been watching me all
night. When any other girl approached him for a dance, including Clarisse, he
just ignored them, or politely refused. His response was always the same, "I'm
waiting for someone very special." 

	 No one knew who that "someone" was, but everyone suspected, with
the way that he was watching me, that it was me. However, he had not
approached me, or even asked for me. He just sat back in his corner, and
watched me. 

	 He was kind of a suave guy, very smooth and well dressed. It was
obvious that the man had money, and a lot of it. With that kind of cash, and
his good looks, he could literally have any girl that he wanted. The man was
white, of European descent. It occurred to me that for the first time that I
was categorizing someone as white, rather than just a person. I wondered if
that was because I was now black. 

	 In any case, I decided to talk to him rather than one of the many
other men eager for my attention. I glided up to him, and started demurely,
"Do you mind if I sit with you a minute? It's been a long night, and I've been
on my feet constantly." 

	 

	 "No.........please," he said, shyly, almost looking away to make it
seem as if he wasn't watching me all night. 

	 I extended my hand to introduce myself, saying, "Hi. My name is
Cinnamon. It's nice to meet you." 

	 He took my hand, to respond, "I know, your name I mean.. My name is
Julian. I am glad you came over to talk to me." 

	 "The other girls say that you are waiting for someone special. If
you tell me who she is, I can try and set it up for you. I hate to see a
good-looking guy like you here all by yourself, honey!" 

	 "Well.......uh.........um
	.I was kind of waiting for you."
He WAS shy, almost backwardly so, which belied his obvious looks and style. Of
course, I knew that I was the one that he was waiting for. I sensed that there
was something very, very different about him. It was something I couldn't
define or put a finger on. It was almost as if he was radiating emotion that
was tangible. 

	 Up to this point, the other guys in the club had treated me like a
thing, an object. The most accurate description would be like a toy. Some were
gentle, some were rough. Almost all of them man handled me in a very overtly
sexual manner. None of them treated me as if they cared about me, or any type
of tenderness. I didn't mind, however, because it helped me to maintain that
separation between my true self, and what I appeared to be. It allowed me to
do what I had been doing for nearly four hours now, by dissociation. In other
words, there was no emotional connection on my part. 

	 Julian was a little bit scary, because his emotions were like a
live wire. I was a little bit worried, because that separation was the last
barrier between my true self, and what I was now. I didn't need any type of
emotional connection to this body. I was here now. It would be wrong to lead
him on, only to reject him. I know how I would feel. Maybe that was why I was
so wary. I recognized part of me in Julian. 

	 "Would you like me to dance for you Julian?" I asked him, trying to
communicate as much sincerity as possible. 

	 "I think I'd like that very much, if you don't mind. I don't want
you to do anything that would make you uncomfortable." It was HIS sincerity
that struck me. This guy, even though he knew nothing about me, actually cared
about ME! 

	 I took his hand in mine, squeezing it gently, and said, "no......I
want to. I'm not uncomfortable at all. You make me feel very welcome." 

	 With that I stood to disrobe, just like I had done with the other
customers that I had danced for. I watch Julian's eyes watching me. There was
a strange look that I recognized right away, a look of passion. Not the look
of animal passion or lust, but the intense passionate look that one lover
gives to another. It sent a shiver up my spine. 

	 I started to dance for Julian the same exact way that I had danced
for Bubba and all of the rest. I tried to be as dirty, and risque as possible.
It was an invitation to paw me just like all the rest, reinforce my
disassociative barrier. However, his first touch threatened to rip down that
barrier for good. It was like an electrical charge flowed from his skin to
mine. He was gentle, tender, caring....loving. It was a lover's touch! It was
something I had not felt, regardless of gender for a long, long time. That
first touch reminded me of what I had really missed in my life. It reminded me
of what I wanted more than money, power, or fame
	...LOVE. 

	 My thoughts, coupled with Julian's caresses, betrayed me. I
practically melted in his embrace. My true self was in mortal danger, I wanted
to run. I wanted more......much more. For the first time, I wanted a cock
inside of me, filling me, completing me. My desire showed in my movements.
Julian and I danced for three songs, each touch, each movement driving me
further. By the end we were practically making love, and I wanted to have sex
with a man, THIS man, more than anything else in the world. My body ached for
him 

	 I was saved by one of the other girls, who told me that it was my
turn next on stage. I was in such a high state of sexual arousal that she
practically had to tear me away from Julian. I had never been so turned on in
my entire life. It was making my head spin that the attraction was to a man.
Now that I had crossed over that barrier, even briefly, could I get back? My
juices were leaking out of me, running down my leg, as I walked toward the
dressing room. I didn't even charge Julian for the dances, I didn't want to! 

	 All I wanted was an orgasm, and I wanted one NOW!!!! 

	 The other girl led me back to the dressing room, because I couldn't
make it there on my own. I was in a state of heat, and wanted to stop at every
man we encountered. At one oint, I tried to break free, so that I could go
back to Julian. She succeeded in finally getting me back into the dressing
room. The other girls had to help me put my clothes back on. 

	 	Clarisse watched all of this, with a look of amusement on her
face. She said in a snide tone of voice, "why don't we turn the hose on her,
like you would for any dog fucking on your lawn!!" 

	 I was in no state to defend myself. It wasn't necessary! The other
girls quickly jumped to my defense by reminding her that often she had danced
with somone who really turned them on. They all had, and crossed the invisible
boundary between customer and lover. That was enough to shut her up. It was
enough to straighten me up to the point where I could start thinking straight
again. It did NOTHING for my body's desire right now. 

	 As I was looking around the room I spied something that just might
help me without getting into to much further trouble, and provide me with a
special stage show. The only bad thing was that it was in Clarisse's open
locker. I got up and went over to the locker to look at it. I then looked at
Clarisse, saying, "do you mind if I use this for my stage show?" 

	 

	 Clarisse stated, "It's not for the stage, it is something that I
use. Sorry." There was that icy tinge to her voice. 

	 "Please Clarisse........." I virtually begged. "I'll do anything,
anything at all......" 

	 That idea apppealed to her. I could tell by the look of triumph on
her face. She had the prom queen at her mercy. The smile grew on her face, and
she was almost beaming. She said, "if I let you use it, later......you have to
let me use it on you!!" 

	 That's when it hit me. That's why she had this article, she was
into girls. That'sc why she has acted the way she has. She was attracted to
me. We looked at each other for a second intensly, and then grabbed each
other, kissing deeply. We kissed a full open mouthed kiss, tongues caressing
each other. I felt my massive tits pressing, and rubbing on her smaller
breasts. 

	 I heard gasps of the other girls in the room along with comments
like, "damn.........holy shit...... I don't believe it
	.." 

	 Clarisse and I parted, breathless. It was a mutual attraction
consumated (at least partly). The whole demeanor of Clarisse, and her tone of
voice changed in a heartbeat. She seemed friendly, and kind, "I assume that
was a yes, that we have a deal" 

	 Of course it was. I could never have gotten a woman this hot in
real life, in my old body. "Yes. Oh, yes," I cried. The item in question was a
huge strap on dildo. 

	 




	 CHAPTER SIXTEEN 

	 

	 I had just barely broken my deep kiss with Clarisse, when I heard
my music cue up on the stage. I think my heart was pounding about a million
beats a minute. I was actually quivering with all the pent up sexual energy.
This was energy that had steadily building with each dance on stage, and each
private dance with the customers. I was like some kind of sexual time bomb,
and now Clarisse had lit the fuse! 

	 I turned my back on her, as I strode toward the curtain seperating
the dressing room from the stage. I hesitated for just a second, looking back
over my shoulder. All of the other girls were just standing there, with their
mouths agape, staring alternatively at Clarisse and myself. They could not
believe what they had just seen. 

	 Clarisse blew me a kiss, purring, "Go ahead, Baby. I'll be right
there!" 

	 I swallowed hard. I wanted her more than I could vocalize. The very
tips of my tits, and my womanhood were tingling to beat the band. It was an
excitement that would not fade, nor did I really want it to. A little smile
flickered across my lips as I realized that at least my male mind, with all of
its desires, was still intact. I may be able to get out of this with little or
no damage to my psyche! 

	 I braced my shoulders against the tremendous weight of my boobs. At
least it gave me the confidence to do what I now had to do up on the stage to
keep the mission going. 

	 I had to impress Mr. Ortega, the director of the film! 

	 The Announcer said over the address system, "....and for her final
stage appearence for the night, gentlemen put your hands together
for....CINNAMON." 

	 I deposited the strap-on dildo behind the curtain, and then burst
upon the stage. I was still slightly shaky with sexual anticipation. All of
the men in the place were cheering wildly for me because, as it was my final
stage appearence for the night. They were expecting something truly
spectacular. Of course, by that time, I had probably already danced privately
for a good majority of them. They were already well acquanted with Cinnamon's
charms. 

	 I started with the same things that I did in my previous two sets.
However, I picked up the pace just a bit so that by the end of the first song,
I was naked. The only thing that I had on were a pair of high heels with 6"
spikes, and a garter belt! The stage, along with my garter belt, were already
filled with money from the customers showing their appreciation for me. 

	 By the end of the first song, I was glistening with a thin layer of
perspiration. I glanced over to where Lou and Mr. Ortega were seated. While
Ortega was interested, I could tell that I had not yet gotten 

	 to him. I sighed deeply. It was time to take one step over the
line, and I hoped and prayed my male ego would survive it. 

	 I skipped over to the edge of the stage, where there were steps
leading down into the club. I gestured to Bubba, who was at the end of the
steps, that I wanted to come down. He held out his hand to me to steady me as
I descended. I took his hand, as I imagined any woman would, and I gracefully
went down the steps. 

	 The eyes of every guy in the place were watching me, including the
piercing eyes of Agent J. He stood by the front door with a scowl upon his
face. He looked like he was very disturbed with what I was doing. Every other
guy in the place had a mouth-watering look of lust on his face. They all knew
that I was up to something, they just wanted to know what it was. 

	 I danced in between all of the guys, stooping here and there to
brush my big boobs against one guy, or to rub my crotch against another. As I
passed by them, each and every guy took the opportunity to touch me in my
sensitive places. This only succeeded in turning me on even further than I was
before. The tingling in my loins, and my tits was insistent....demanding. 

	 All of the guys seemed to know that I was searching, looking for a
guy to bring up on stage with me. They all wanted it to be them, however, the
identity of that guy was never in doubt. I made my way through the throng of
guys to where Julian was sitting. I reached out to him, imploring him with my
eyes to take my hand, and to come with me. He blushed, shaking his head and
whispering "No." 

	 I grabbed his hand, tugging gently to urge him to stand up. I
whispered to him, "C'mon Sweetie. Come with me....you won't regret it!" 

	 I tried to make my voice sound as feminine and sexy as possible,
which wasn't hard. The events of the last few hours made it so hard to
remember how I used to speak. This way just seemed so....natural. 

	 Julian still resisted, but only slightly. I could tell, somehow,
that he was right on the edge. I then did something which surprised even me. I
sat on his lap, drawing closer so that he could smell my perfume, and natural
female phermones. 

	 I whispered in his ear, "Please Julian....for me?" 

	 I kissed his ear ever so softly. What surprised me was that it was
an act of an utterly feminine woman, comfortable with her sexuality. My God.
What was happening to me? 

	 He turned my face to look me directly in the eye. He saw the
earnestness of my plea, even as I saw his desire for me in his eyes. It was
such a powerful thing seeing the depth of the emotion that this man had for
me. Not me as I was, but me as I now am. 

	 "Okay....for you!" he said, a quiver in his voice. 

	 We both stood up. The air was virtually crackling with erotic
energy. I led him back to the stage, while all of the other men were cheering
madly. There was an expression of jealousy on the faces of many of the other
men because they were not chosen. 

	 Once on the stage again, I asked for a chair. Almost as if by magic
a chair appeared. Julian went to sit down on the chair, assuming, of course,
that is what I wanted him to do. 

	 

	 I instructed him, "Not yet. Hold on for a second." 

	 About that time, the second song was fading away. This was the
third song, and I had to make this one count, if I was going to complete the
deal with Ortega. I really didn't want to do this, but had no other choice.
While Julian was standing there, by the chair, I danced my way over to the
curtain. I bent over oh so suggestively, pulling out the strap-on dildo from
its hiding place. I hadn't really looked at it closely before, and now, when I
did, was stunned by its sheer size. The damn thing depicted an extremely
thick, 12" erect cock, if it depicted an inch. 

	 Now I really swallowed hard because I realized, in a matter of
seconds, I would have given myself no other option but to have this thing
inside of me! 

	 There was no turning back now. All of the men, including Ortega,
already saw what was in my hand. All of the men had their arms thrust up in
the air in a victory sign, as if they were cheering a touchdown or a home run.
Ortega just had a wicked smile on his face. This had gotten to him! I just
stopped my mind from thinking about it. I danced back over to Julian. In a
matter of mere seconds, I had the contraption strapped onto him in the place
of where his real organ would be. 

	 The thing looked huge....monstrous! 

	 I lowered Juilan on to the seat. It was obvious that he was highly
aroused by all of this. I knew I certainly was excited. Juices from the inside
of my genitals were trickling down my leg. I didn't want it to stop tingling.
I thought my nipples were going to explode! Once he was seated, I started to
fondle the psuedo erection as lovingly as I could muster. I tried to look at
it adoringly, as if it were my God, or something. From the response of the
audience, it sounded like I was convincing! 

	 Now that I had a chance to study the dildo, up close and personal,
one would say, I saw just how monstrous it actually was. It was about the
thickness of a small baseball bat. Although, for the most part, it was flesh
colored, the head, and upper shaft was purple, depicting a penis in painful
erection. It even had raised, blue veins up and down its length showing
massive engorgement. The outer layer was soft rubber, that actually felt like
skin. All in all, the thing looked more real, and far larger, than my own used
to look! 

	 The sight of it was causing the strangest reaction in me. It was
almost like....pride, that I was able to produce such an erection. Even though
my mind knew that it wasn't real, I could feel my body fill with what I could
only identify as feminine pride. The strong emotional reaction, coupled with
the cheering of the crowd, and my extremely high state of arousal emboldened
me to go even further. 

	 I kneeled at Julian's feet, while I continued to look, transfixed,
at the dildo. I licked my lips to communicate to the audience a hunger that
needed to be satisfied. I could taste the moist lipstick upon my lips. I
almost thought I went too far when I felt my mouth water, and drool trickled
out of the side of 

	 my mouth. A sudden urge shuddered through me to take the thing into
my mouth. That's when it hit me that I was no longer faking this hunger. I was
honestly feeling it. 

	 I couldn't do it. I steeled myself, trying to hold out until the
end of the song. I decided to stroke my hands up an down the shaft to simulate
a hand job. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that my small hand couldn't
even close around the girth of the thing. I had to put both of my hands
together, and began to slowly run them up and down the entire length. 

	 The crowd wasn't satisfied. The were shouting, in one voice, "MORE!
MORE! MORE!" It was a fair bet that if the crowd wasn't satisfied, Ortega
would not be satisfied either. As much as I didn't want to, I had to go
further. While I continued to move my hands up an down the shaft, I began to
rub my cheeks along the side as if I were nuzzling it. That only elicited more
cheers of,`"MORE! MORE! MORE!" 

	 I knew what they wanted. I knew what I would want if I were in
their place. So I began to shower the artificial organ with light kisses. To
all of the world I appeared to be a big breasted black woman about to give
head to a white man. The image was incredibly erotic, and against my will, I
began to move my kisses toward the purple head. 

	 Now the chants of the audience changed, they began to shout, "HEAD!
HEAD! HEAD!" 

	 A surge of hormones ripped through me. Somehow it triggered a
memory of having a real live cock in my mouth. How could that be? That never
happened to me before. However, I couldn't shake the sensation of how intensly
pleasurable the memory was. I let the memory wash over me, experiencing it.
Less than a second later, I had the big artificial cock head in my mouth,
duplicating the memory. 

	 A loud roar erupted from the men in the audience in approval. 

	 I felt all inhibitions drain out of me. I bobbed my head up and
down on the apparatus, trying to take more and more of it into my throat. This
was insane, I couldn't even think straight. All I knew was that I wanted it
down my throat. In no time I was deep throating the entire length, and not
even gagging. I just kept on bobbing away, whilst my huge boobs swayed back
and forth madly, the nipples rubbing against his legs. 

	 My mind was spinning, my grip on reality slipping away. I was
vaguely aware of warm moisture covering my free hand. Not only that but my
hand was moving. I focused my attention only to discover that I was shoving
three fingers in and out of my lubricated slit. It felt so good to finally be
getting some type of relief from this overwhelming pressure that I felt. 

	 The third song came to an end, but the crowd did not want the show
to end. They began to chant, in unison, "ONE MORE SONG! ONE MORE SONG!" 

	 I didn't want to stop, either. I didn't care anymore. I didn't care
who I once was, or who I now appeared to be. All I knew was that I had an
insatiable need that had to be satisfied or I would go insane! Even though no
song was playing, I still continued vigorously fingering myself, while giving
the dildo a blow 

	 job. 

	 Another song started to play over the speakers. I only partially
smiled at the irony of it, "Pearl Necklace" by ZZ Top. I was so intent on what
I was doing. 

	 I couldn't stand it any longer. I dislodged my self from the dildo,
pulling Julian up from his chair. He had an expression of absolute rapture on
his face. He was in "Seventh Heaven." I carefully laid him down on the stage,
on his back, mindful of what I guessed was a painful erection behind the
contraption. The prosthetic erection stuck straight up in the air like a
perverse type of tree. 

	 I carefully positioned myself over the head of the dildo, and
started to lower myself toward it by bending at the knees. I paused for a
second. My mind reeled. I was about to be penetrated for the first time in my
life, and it was in front of a cheering crowd of men! With one hand I spread
my vaginal lips, while with the other I guided the shaft into the opening. The
moment the head of the dildo touched my clitoris, a shiver of pure pleasure
went up and down my spine. I couldn't help but let out a low moan. 

	 I began to lower myself onto the erection, a little at a time. I
managed to go up and down in time to the beat of the music. Each time I went
down, I manage to take more of the huge piece of equipment. Faster and faster
I went. More and more of the thing I took. I was completely intoxicated with
the feelings and sensations coursing throughout my body, and it was literally
impossible to stop. 

	 Soon I was going up and down on the entire 12", taking it all up
into me. Each time I went down, I could feel the end hitting the bottom of my
vaginal cavity. I just didn't care, the feelings were too fantastic! I began
to run both of my hands through my extremely long hair. I flipped it this way
and that as I continued to impale myself on the dildo. The pressure was
building consistently toward the inevitable conclusion. 

	 It was like the crowd wasn't there any longer. It was only me, and
the hardness between my legs, pounding into me. With each thrust I cried out
an "Ohhh" or "Yesss," accompanying the sounds of loud "slurping" between my
legs. My boobs were so hard they hurt, so I began to play with them. I fondled
them roughly, rolling the nipples between my fingers. Oh God, these sensations
were so great! 

	 Finally a wave of intense warmth swept my body, and I felt the
start of a massive orgasm. I closed my eyes, arching my back, and sitting down
on the full length of the dildo. I ran my hands through my hair again,
wrapping it all around me. The last thing I remember before surrendering to
the full rush of the orgasm was letting out a blood-curdling scream of pure
joy. 

	 My body shook and quivered, almost like I was an epileptic, as
spasm after orgasmic spasm wracked my body. 

	 I don't know how long I remained like that. When I opened my eyes,
it was so quiet that you could have heard a pin drop! Every man was just
standing there wide eyed, and slack jawed in disbelief. All of the other
dancers were watching from the curtain to the dressing room. Their expressions
were just 

	 as awed as the guys. There was the sound of one set of hands
clapping. 

	 My eyes followed the sound to where I saw Gabriel Ortega standing
and clapping. He was quickly joined by Lou, then another. In a matter of
seconds, I was getting a standing ovation. Even the other dancers, including
Clarisse, were clapping. 

	 I stood up, got off the sopping wet dildo, which slid slowly out of
me, and bowed at the waist. When I did my long hair flew over my shoulders
into my face. I could feel the tremendous weight of my boobs as they dangled,
and bounced heavily from my chest. In this position, I could see all of the
money on the stage. I don't think I've ever seen that much money in my entire
life! 

	 I stood back up, brushing the hair out of my face, and flipping it
over my shoulder like I was a woman born. In the brief period that I had
bowed, Lou and Ortega had joined me on stage. Lou raised my hand like I had
just won a title fight, even as the announcer stuttered, "G-gentlemen. T-that
w-was Cinnamon." 

	 Lou said just loud enough for me, and Ortega, to hear, "Cinnamon?
I've been in this biz for 20 years, and I ain't ever seen nothin' like you!!" 

	 Ortega agreed wholeheartedly, "You are a natural kid! You and I are
going to make a lot of money. The camera is going to love you!" 

	 The furor finally died down to a low roar. As Ortega and Lou
escorted me offstage, I heard the announcer state, "Guys....Cinnamon will be
right back out for private dances. If I were in your shoes, I get in line
right now!!!" 

	 That made me smile broadly. In the whole of my life, I couldn't
ever remember being so desired and adored. It was a good feeling! At that very
second in my existence, I didn't know if I could give it up and go back to
being just an average "Joe." The sensations that this body produced were so
damned addictive... 

	 Backstage, I slumped into a nearby chair, exhausted. I bummed a
cigarette from one of the other girls, and Ortega lit it up for me like any
gentleman would for a pretty woman. He pulled up a chair beside me so that he
could talk to me a bit further. Lou moved to pull up a chair also, but Ortega
gave him a look that said, "Leave us alone." 

	 Poor Lou. Technically, he 'discovered' me, and now he was being
nudged out. He recognized the stare, responding sheepishly, "Uh....yeah. I got
to check the front door. I'll be back in a minute." 

	 Ortega smirked, "You do that Lou. I'll take care of Cinnamon
here...." As he said that, he laid a hand on my bare leg, on the upper thigh.
He didn't move it! 

	 When Lou was gone, Ortega leaned over to whisper to me, "Denise
isn't it?" 

	 I must have had a confused expression on my face because Ortega
interjected before I could answer, "Your real name....right?" 

	 "Yeah. Sure." 

	 "Well Denise, you can make a ton of money in adult films. There are
no black superstars in this business right now. You can be that superstar! You
have all of the skills." 

	 I couldn't belive what I was hearing. I had all of the skills to be
a porn superstar when I wasn't even a woman! Imagine! I was just doing what
came naturally, what I thought my male self would 

	 want to see. Still, it made me curious. 

	 "Uh....how much money are we talking about Gabriel?" 

	 "Babe, we're talking millions...." 

	 I was stunned. In my real life, I could never hope to make that
much money. Only the very lucky could make that much money. Attorneys can wait
their whole life for lightning to strike, and for that one case to walk into
their office, which will set them up for life. That case hadn't walk into my
office yet, but maybe this was my bit of luck, my lightning strike. When the
time came for me to switch back to my own body, I honestly didn't know, at
this point, if I would even want to...." 

	 



 
                               CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
 


	 I took a long and deep drag from my cigarette. Its sweet seductive
essence licked the back of my throat, and slid on through to the lungs beyond.
An aura of calmness returned to my being after hearing Ortega's estimation of
my future. One thought stuck in my mind: was it really MY future? 

	 The goal of my "mission" with Agent J was to locate, and force the
alien to switch me back into my real male body. The aim of the quest just
blurred a bit in the last few minutes! 

	 Here I was, being handed the key to a life of wealth and leisure
upon a silver platter. The sheer thrill of the idea of having everything that
my heart desired was difficult to contain. The only catch was that I would
have to accept an identity as a small buxom African-American woman. 

	 To say that my mind was reeling from the ramifications such a
dilemma would have been a gross understatement. It was hard to focus upon the
details that Oretga was attempting to relate to me. 

	 "There you are, Baby," came a rich female voice from behind me. "I
. . . ." 

	 I identified the owner of the voice instantly, even though it
stopped short. It was Clarisse. 

	 There was an element of breathless arousal within the timbres of
her voice, until the moment that she saw that I was sitting with a man. It all
changed in the blink of an eye. Ortega made it much worse by issuing a verbal
order to Clarisse . . . without even skipping a beat. 

	 "Could you get me a pen and a piece of paper, Honey? There's a good
girl." 

	 There was an air of superior arrogance to Ortega's voice. He was a
man who was used to getting what he wanted with little to no resistance. I
should know because I encountered enough of those particular personalities in
my real life as an attorney. Confrontation with another strong personality,
such as that possessed by Clarisse would be an explosive disaster. 

	 Intuitively, I knew an order from a man would not sit well with my
would be paramour. Indeed, I glanced over my shoulder, through the thick dark
hair, confirming her nasty, menacing death stare. 

	 I nodded to her, mouthing the silent words of reassurance, "It's
okay." Then I winked at her. 

	 Her whole rigid demeanor changed noticeably. Clarisse smiled at me
warmly, before shifting her gaze momentarily to Ortega. 

	 It was like the freezing touch of Ole'Man Winter, himself, swept
into the room. 

	 Once Clarisse turned to walk away, I turned back to Ortega. He wore
the frown of irritation that came from being challenged. 

	 "What's the deal with the Ice Queen?" he inquired in his charming
manner. 

	 "Oh. She's harmless. Her bark is much worse than her bite . . .
believe me . . . I know! Clarisse just gets a little possessive of me, that's
all." 

	 That comment prompted Ortega to look away from me, and toward the
place that I imagined Clarisse to be. I guessed that she was grudgingly
retrieving a pen and paper . . . for me. 

	 "You and . . . her?" was Ortega's surprised observation when his
eyes returned to me. 

	 "Uh huh. Is there a problem with that?" 

	 Technically, Clarisse and I were not yet lovers, but the clear
implication was that it was only a matter of time. Therefore, it wasn't
exactly a lie. I decided on the spur of the moment to use the circumstances to
convey to Ortega exactly where my choice in sexual partners lay. You could
never tell with producers/directors of adult films because they the very real
possibility existed that they wanted a little action from their stars. 

	 I might was well imply to my putative new employer that his
attempts at such fringe benefits would be rejected! 

	 "No way. This keeps getting better and better. You do girl-girl AND
girl-guy. Celeste only does girl-girl. I may have to do a bit of a rewrite to
include additional scenes for you with the main male co-star. This is
fantastic." Ortega couldn't contain the exuberance over his discovery. 

	 The thing was, despite appearances to the contrary on stage, I
don't do girl-guy. I am a man inside! I opened my mouth to tell Ortega that I
was only going to do girl-girl scenes with Celeste. That is what he wanted me
for, and the only thing that I was going to do. 

	 Unfortunately, Clarisse interrupted again, "Here ya go, Baby!" 

	 She handed the pad and pen to me, rather than Ortega, and then bent
down to give me a kiss. I felt her soft lips, moistened with slick lipstick,
press against my ethnically thicker lips. I didn't pull away. Instead, I just
closed my eyes to once again relive what it was like to kiss a beautiful
woman. 

	 I felt both of my arms go slack and limp at my sides. The smallest
portion of my consciousness felt things slipping from my fingers. Indeed, I
heard something fall to the floor out of the corner of my ears. 

	 Those details didn't matter anymore. If I closed my eyes, I could
forget, just for a precious few heartbeats, that I was trapped in the body of
a voluptuous black stripper. I was just me. 

	 For a few seconds, I was a man again, doing what a man does best .
. . kissing a woman. My male instincts got the better of me. I snaked one of
my tiny manicured hands to the back of Clarisse's pretty head, where it
intertwined in her hair. I pulled her lips into a tighter seal upon mine. My
plump lips parted in unison with hers, so that our tongues could communicate
non-verbally. 

	 The little romantic fugue was glorious, up until the moment that I
felt the intense alien sensations from my borrowed body. The tension from the
very tips of my boobs, coupled with the rapidly moistening sex of my adopted
gender, reminded me pointedly that I was not a man. I broke the daring kiss
with a deep sense of regret and sorrow. 

	 I turned my head to the side, nuzzling Clarisse's soft cheek in the
process. The loss of words was so profound that all I could do was sigh . . .
deeply. I wanted this woman terribly, but something essential was missing . .
. the carnal urge to impale her body with my manhood. It was replaced by a
craving to BE impaled and filled by another's manhood? 

	 I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. My heart was beating like a
trip hammer. 

	 Clarisse stopped to whisper a private message into my ear. "Find me
later, Baby. I have to go up on the stage and try to follow YOUR act. You're
just so delicious that I could eat you up with a spoon." 

	 She paused for a microsecond, then added, "Are you sure that you
want to be sitting here in YOUR condition, totally naked, with THAT man here?" 

	 What did Clarisse mean by that comment? The mixture of the
dissipating Absinthe in my bloodstream and her searing kiss made it sooooo
hard to think straight!! 

	 When Clarisse arose into a fully erect posture, I looked down at
myself. I knew exactly what she was talking about. I was sitting there, in the
presence of another man, wearing naught but a garter belt and stacked high
heels. Now I was sitting in front of a man in a heightened state of arousal.
My painfully erect, dark ebon nipples, the glistening moisture near my shaved
genitalia, and the goose flesh on my milk chocolate brown skin was a living
testament to the level of that arousal. 

	 The disturbing thing was that I hadn't even thought it wrong until
this very second! In my mind, I was just sitting here . . . as a man, in
little more than a locker/dressing room, talking causally to another man. I
was so excited and relaxed that I'd had a lapse of who I now appear to be. 

	 That's when Clarisse handed me a robe . . . her robe. It was
saturated with her scent. I hadn't noticed it her hands when she handed me the
pad, or when she kissed me, but I was instantly thankful. 

	 These lapses were getting dangerous by putting me into compromising
situations. I shouldn't be sitting here with a man like Ortega . . .
particularly after my performance. I only did "it" with a rubberized facsimile
of a huge phallus, but it was close enough to the real thing for me to be
concerned. What could I have been thinking? 

	 

	 Clarisse stood protectively betwixt Ortega and myself in order to
shield me from his view. Poor Clarisse must be awfully confused over my
actions. On one hand, I give a performance on stage that any wanton slut would
be envious of, yet on the other I am naive enough to be sitting in the buff
with a "player." My inexperience as a real woman was starting to show. 

	 Up on the stage, I only had to act as I imagined men would WANT to
see me act. It was easy because I only did the things I would want to see, had
I been in there place. However, when it came to the nuances of a genuine
woman, as now, I was woefully inadequate. 

	 The scary notion, just lingering in the back of my head, was that,
if I had to stay in this body, an environment like this would be the only
place where I could truly fit in! 

	 I took Clarisse's cue by rising to my own feet, and hurriedly
throwing the robe over my naked body. It was way too big for my diminutive
form, nevertheless, it would have to do. 

	 As I knotted the belt around my narrow waist, making my large chest
tent out provocatively, Clarisse reached around the nape of my neck, under my
heavy hair. I felt her fingers lightly trace either side of my neck as they
passed. She gently pulled my long, dark hair from the confines of the robe, so
that it cascaded over my shoulders to my waist. Clarisse pulled some of the
tresses forward so that they flowed over the huge bulge of my chest. 

	 She drew the hair out of my eyes, smoothed it, and pressed her lips
against my forehead. It was an extremely loving and intimate gesture. From her
superior height it wasn't very hard to do. She turned to go. 

	 Clarisse stopped momentarily to crush the smoldering cigarette with
her pump. It was the same cigarette that I had been smoking only moments
before. With a start, I realized that it must have dropped from my slack
fingers during her kiss. A second later, she was gone in a swirl of pungent
perfume. 

	 I think I finally exhaled. 

	 The only thing to do was retake my seat. Slowly, ever so slowly, so
as to not flash the divine flatness of my loins through the separation of the
robe, I lowered my bottom to the chair. I pointedly crossed my shapely brown
legs at the thigh into a lady-like position. I tried to ignore the relative
ease of the maneuver, knowing that there was nothing to hinder the position of
my legs. 

	 When I looked up at Ortega he was just grinning broadly. 

	 "W-where were we?" I asked in the voice of my host body. I had
honestly forgotten what we were talking about before Clarisse interrupted. It
was something important . . . something that I HAD to tell Ortega.
Unfortunately, it was now gone. 

	 Oh well, I told myself mentally. When I remember, I can tell Ortega
later. It's best to get the details of the cover story for Agent J and me.
He's going to be sooo impressed that I worked out a cover for us on my own! 

	 I was confident of that fact, and that I was finally pulling my own
weight, however slight it must now be, on this mission. 

	 Ortega broke his satisfied smile long enough to point to the floor
beside my chair. He stated, "The pad and pen?" 

	 My eyes followed his finger to the pad and pen that had also
dropped from my hands during the kiss. Even as I reached down to pick them up,
I sensed heat rising to my cheeks. For the first time, I was glad that I was
black, so he couldn't see me blush. 

	 When I leaned all of the way to the floor, my big boobs pressed
into the upper parts of my thighs. I sighed again. They were always in the way
of everything! 

	 I sheepishly handed the writing instruments to Ortega. He took them
and hurriedly scribbled something on the top sheet of paper. The man ripped
the paper off in a grand sweeping gesture, and then handed it back over to me. 

	 "What is this?" I inquired softly. 

	 "That is the name and address of the hotel where I'll make your
accommodations. I'll but them under the name of . . . Denise?" 

	 "That will be fine," I agreed reluctantly. I was really starting to
miss my real name. 

	 "I'll need a last name," added Ortega. 

	 I was stuck for a second. Agent J and I never discussed a last name
for me. I would have to make one up, so I thought I'd better make up one that
sounded black. Only one came to mind. 

	 "Uh . . .Jackson." 

	 "Good. The reservation will be under the name of Denise Jackson."
Ortega stood to go. "The phone number below that is my office number in Miami.
When you and your . . uh . . .escort get there, give me a call. I'll be able
to give you directions to the set from there." 

	 I took Ortega's cue, and got to my feet also. "Thank you for every
thing Mr. Ortega." 

	 "Call me Gabriel, or Gabe, Cinnamon. I think we're going to be in
business together for a long time." 

	 Ortega extended his hand for me to shake. However, I could tell by
the look on his face that he wanted much more. Maybe he even expected much
more. Some instinct, deep within me, could sense that he wanted to touch me.
The only thing I could to was take his hand. 

	 He squeezed it instead of shaking it. 

	 My eyes involuntarily glanced downward from the man's face to his
crotch. Ortega had a raging hard on. 

	 By the time I looked back up, he had already pulled away, and was
walking away. He left me to kick myself, wondering why in the hell I did that?
Why had I stared at that man's crotch? 

	 I didn't like the potential answer. 

	 ********** 

	 Neither its name, nor its species, would be pronounceable in known
Earth language. The closest equivalent for its people in English would be the
Ethereal. The closest equivalent of its own name would be Songmeadow. 

	 It relaxed within the dwelling of Matthew Waters, the identity of
the body it wore, confident that, for the moment, it was not being pursued.
The respite afforded the Etherium the opportunity to reflect on the current
status of its sacred mission. The success of its mission was as imperative, as
it was assured, to the Ethereal. 

	 The Etheral were an ancient race when the galaxy was still young.
So evolved were they, that the no longer possessed a corporeal physical form.
Instead, they were beings of pure thought and emotion, and were, as such,
virtually immortal. The only way in which a member of the Ethereal could be
slain was if were trapped within the physical form of another at the moment of
death. 

	 The Ethereal had no real need of conquest, just as they had no real
need of technology. They had no need of food, drink, or sustenance of any
type, as humans understand. Since the Ethereal were without form, they were
also without physical experience. They needed the stored experience of other
beings in order to survive. 

	 Through that experience, the Etherium reproduced. When a member of
the Ethereal had absorbed enough life experiences and memories of the hosts
they inhabited, they literally became pregnant. The beings became so laden
with experience, thoughts, emotions, sensorium, etc. that no single entity
could contain them. Therefore they split, almost like a human cell does during
mitosis, into one or more new entities. 

	 Thus, the Etherium went for eons upon aeons. Their supremacy in the
universe went unchallenged, for they truly had no superiors. They had no need
of war, for all they needed to do was go and take over the bodies of their
"enemies." 

	 The Ethrium had only one fear . . . that another race of
genetically malleable beings would be able to evolve the same ability as they.
Should that happen, the Etherium's supremacy would be challenged. So the
Etherium roamed the cosmos in search of other species who had the potential to
develop the talent to switch bodies. Their directive was to erase that genetic
anomaly. 

	 Thus the Etherium would go . . . eternal. 

	 The talent drew Songmeadow to this place . . . this planet. The
Earthling always did demonstrate a nasty habit for evolutionary leaps. Now
there were two others. They were genetic mutants, and the first of their
breed. They had to be stopped. 

	 Songmeadow smiled in Waters' body, enjoying the sensation of being
physical. The mutants had not yet switched with enough people to develop the
secondary talent. That had it a decided advantage. Songmeadow knew that
currently they could only switch bodies. Soon, they would be able to absorb
the life experiences of the host, and after that, they would be able to sense
others of their own kind . . . including the Etherium. 

	 At this moment, only Songmeadow could sense them. They were close,
and Songmeadow was getting closer. In another day or two . . . it would have
them. 

	 Songmeadow had to find them. If he didn't . . . disaster. The next,
inevitable step in their progression would be for them to reproduce by
splitting. THAT was something that Songmeadow, nay the Etherium, could never
allow. 

	 Until then, Songmeadow was stuck maintaining the identity of
Waters. It regretted having to slay an innocent to cover its tracks. It
though, it's better this way. Human's are still tied to things like gender and
cultural differences created by skin color. The real Waters would never be
able to handle existing in the body of that black girl. 

	 Songmeadow's adopted face scowled. As an added extra bonus, it
appeared as if it had finally lost that nuisance from the MiB, Agent J. 




	 CHAPTER EIGHTEEN 

	 
	With Ortega finally "out of my hair" . . . . did I really think that . . . I finished re-dressing. Each time that I had to pull satin panties over the flat
mound of my loins, or the tight dress over my gigantic black melons, got a
little easier. 

	I hated to admit it to myself, but it was even becoming commonplace . . .
familiar! 

Even the outrageously wide sensation of big boobs jiggling and bouncing as I
moved, or dangling and swaying heavily when I bent or leaned forward, wasn't
as strange anymore. For the lack of a better word, it was starting to feel . .
. comfortable? 

	The closest analogy that I could come up with is when you get a bridge in your teeth. At first you notice it all of the time, and everything serves to make you constantly aware of its presence. In time the feeling fades to the point where it feels just as normal as the rest of your teeth. You just get used to the feeling. 

That was the way it was for me having really large tits. They just felt
perfectly normal, as if I'd always possessed them. The same was true of the
void between my shapely ebony legs. Even being so terribly short and petite,
practically a midget, was familiar to me now. The damned long hair was still
giving me fits! It was always in my eyes or in my mouth, constantly getting in
the way. 

I sat down in front of one of the vanity mirrors that lined the far wall of
the strippers' dressing room. My eyes gazed into the looking glass to behold
my adopted image once more. There was still one thing that I had not yet
gotten used to. 

I was black . . . I was an African American woman. So far, Agent J had pretty
much sheltered me from the world at large. Sooner, rather than later, I would
have to venture into that world that was still torn by prejudice, and
different treatment for different races. I never though that I would be
trapped on this side of that race war. 

Would white people, my former people, call me a nigger? How would I react? I
would find out tomorrow when I had to go shopping and to the beauty parlor. 
That last stray thought caused me to sit stock still. I had to go to a beauty
parlor. ME! 

Suddenly, I felt like crying again, for the first time in a long time. Tonight
I got a crash course in womanhood, and perhaps that was why the body I now
wore was beginning to feel comfortable. However, this was easy. All I had to
do was act like a gross characature of a stripper and a slut. Nobody even
suspected that I was anything other than I appeared to be. Tomorrow, I would
have to act . . . no . . . I would have to BE a real woman. 

What was I going to do? I couldn't help but think, once more, that the only
place that I would ever truly fit in was in a place like this. Now I did want
to cry. 

My eyes detected movement in the mirror directly behind me. The motion made me
shift my focus away from my face and body to the source of the motion. Another
stripper, the only black dancer other than myself, was walking up behind me,
with a wad of money in her hand. 

I was paralyzed. I just identified myself with HER as the only OTHER black
girl! I really was getting accustomed to my circumstances. 

From the back of my poor besieged mind, I seemed to recall the other black
woman's name, stage name that is, was Cocoa. What the hell was it with Lou and
food names for his black strippers? Both Cocoa and Cinnamon were names of
brown food! 

I surge of anger over . . . something . . . at Lou washed over me. I-I think
that I felt my first emotion of prejudice. Lou was a racist, subtle, but still
a racist. 

Cocoa came along side of me, handing me the money. "Here yoah are, Honey.
Y'all made nother $541. Yoah shoah is one poplar nigger!" 

My eyes darted up to her face, even as I grabbed my precious money from her.
This girl, this black girl, called ME a nigger. That was the worst possible
thing that she could say. I spoke to her without first considering my words,
and there was the distinct tone of indignation in my voice. 

"Excuse me? What did you call me?" 

I jumped to my feet, after securing the money in the only place available . .
. between my deep cleavage. I was so angered that it didn't occur to me how
odd that act was. I struck an unintentionally confrontational pose. It was a
mistake the instant that I did it. 

Cocoa was much older, chronologically, than the body I now had. I would guess
her age was about 28 to 30 years of age, but it wasn't the gap in apparent
ages that concerned me. It was her size! Cocoa was about 5'9", 150 lbs, with
the more traditional build of a black woman. In short, she could easily kick
my ass! 

She didn't take the confrontation well. Cocoa's whole aspect changed from one
of sisterhood to suppressed anger. That anger was reflected in her aggravated
voice. Before she spoke, however, she stuck two fingers into the center of my
chest, and pushed me back onto my chair. 

It wasn't hard to do . . . my balance was so out of whack! 

"Don' get uppity wit' me . . . bitch. Jus' cus' you talks like white folk, and
white folk likes y'all, don' make you white. Yoah is a sister jus' like me.
Yoah skin's jus' as black as mine, Nigger. You axe me, I says is blacker!" 

"But . . . I . . . ." I tried to explain myself. 

Cocoa ignored me to continue her verbal tongue lashing. "Looks at yoah, Bitch.
Yoah is black folk jus' like me, from the wrong side o' the tracks. No mount
o' talkin' like whitey gonna change that. Shoah, yoah big ole' boobs and
speech makes yoah stick out from the rest o' us, Sister, but you jus' member
where's y'all come from. We's all from the ghetto slums, an' jus' tryin' ta
makes a livin'. Yoah ain't no differnt." 

Cocoa stalked off in a huff. I could practically see the steam coming off of
her head, as I watched her go. I looked back into the vanity mirror. The
reflection there was a powerful representation of the truth of Cocoa's words.
No matter how much I was going on momentum from my former existence, I was a
small busty black girl from the same place as Cocoa. We were the same. Only my
manner of speech, the only remnant from my past life as Matthew Waters, marked
me as different. 

If I had to stay like this, that too would ultimately have to . . . .change. I
would ultimately have to start talking as I appeared to be. 

The sudden dilemma got me to thinking. I wondered how the real Denise used to
speak> Did she sound more like Cocoa, or more like I do now? 

One thing was certain. The alien had no idea that I was still alive. If I
were, the one thing that it could pick up on was my speech. It would expect me
to continue to talk like I used to. 

An idea formulated in my brain. Since I was getting a make over tomorrow,
effectively disguising my looks, why shouldn't I also camaflogue my speech? In
that way, even if the alien were in the same room with me, it would never,
ever know. 

That was it, I nodded to my reflection. I would mimic Cocoa's ethnic street
lingo. Whether it was the genuine Denise's style of talking I would never
know, but it would be mine for the time being. 

As long as I was "undercover," I might as well go all of the way under! 
I looked back over my shoulder toward the door that exited into the club. The
loud music was still blaring from the activity just beyond the portal. There
was no time like the present to try out this new way of talking on the men in
the club. 

I sighed deeply, pointedly withdrawing my money from my cleavage. I put it
there, like any stripper without even thinking twice about it. 
First up was . . . Agent J. 


********** 

Agent J was standing there by the door, at the place assigned to him by Lou.
He was constantly scanning the crowd for a sign of somebody, which I had to
assume was me. I had been in the dressing room for sometime, but not so long
as to cause the expression of grave concern written all over his face. 

His head was turned in the direction of the stage, therefore he hadn't noticed
my exit from the dressing room. His countenance was so grim and dire. It made
me wonder whether Lou yelled at him again. Had we worn out our welcome at the
club? 

In that moment, I decided that it was my duty, and my duty alone, to cheer the
man up. I had to do something to lighten the ultra serious mood. I was
starting to have some fun despite the impossibility of the circumstances . . .
why shouldn't he? 

The money in my tiny hands would no doubt make him happy, for it meant, for
all intents and purposes, that our money problems were solved. I need
something more! Now was as good a time as any to give him the wonderful news
of our cover story. I could fake my street talk to really surprise him. 

I silently slid up to Agent J, as he looked away, poking him in the rib with
my long painted fingernail. The street slang voice was employed for the first
time. 

"Is yoah a lookin' foah nother fly sister, or is yoah lookin' foah this here
lil' nigger bitch?" 

I though it came out great, and despite the high, sweet tone of my body's
voice, sounded like I just walked in off of the streets of Harlem. 

Agent J's head jerked around so fast that I thought it was going to snap from
his neck. He was wide eyed and slack jawed . . . aghast. In fact, he was so
stunned that you could have sworn that somebody hit him upside his noggin with
a 2x4 board. 

I had no idea that my act was THAT convincing! Therefore, I figure that I'd
push the envelope. I drew right along side of Agent J, and turned into him
slightly, so that my boobs pressed into his lower chest. 

"Is yoah that surprised to see me? What' a sistah gots ta do ta get a lil'
tention round heah . . . Brothah?" 

Agent J staggered backward a few steps . . . away from me. His mouth was
moving, but no words were coming out. It was then, and only then, did I
realize that it wasn't good natured surprise that I was witnessing. This was
fear. 

My partner looked like he'd seen a ghost! 

His mouth finally connected to his brain . . . almost. "P . . . P . . . P . .
. D-Denise? Waters? W-who are y-you?" 

I moved to prop up the stunned agent, but he recoiled away from my touch. I
had my ground, but whispered again in my normal intonations and syntax. 
"It's me, Agent J. It's Waters. I was just trying to . . . ." 

I never got to finish my sentence. Agent J practically launched himself at me,
grasping both of my bare shoulders. He shook me while he ranted at me. 

"Don't you EVER talk like that again! Do you hear me? What the Hell got into
you? What were you trying to do?" 

I struck a nerve somewhere within his being. Did he think that I was mocking
his race or skin color? It was now my skin color too! Irregardless, Agent J's
shaking was really starting to hurt me. 

I peeled one of his hands from my shoulder by using the only weapon I had. I
raked his forearm with my long nails. I did it instinctively, again, with out
even thinking about it. I then shoved that hand away indignantly. The glare in
my eyes held the man with the sincere anger that I felt, as I turned away from
the painful grasp of the other hand. 

"What are you doing J? You are a lot bigger and stronger than I am in this
body. You were really hurting me." 

Agent J turned away from my penetrating stare, mumbling, "Oh God. I'm so sorry
. . . I don't know what came over me." 

I cautiously approached him again. Slowly I drew along side him once more,
placing one reassuring hand on his shoulder. I had to reach way, way up. 

"It's okay. Just remember that I'm breakable in this body. I may be a man on
the inside, but I'm a fragile woman on the outside. What's going on? Why did
you freak on me like that? Is the alien here?" 

My eyes darted away from Agent J to scrutinize the various faces in the crowd. 
Agent J's voice pulled me back to him. "No. It's nothing like that. If it were
here, we wouldn't be standing around talking like this." 

"Then what is it?" my voice softened. "Tell me Will . . . we're in this
together." 

"It was your act up on stage, and the way that you spoke just now . . . you
were exactly like her. You were exactly like her until I tried to help her." 
"Denise . . . or somebody else?" 

"I don't understand," tried Agent J, but by this time, it was obvious that he
was hiding something. He didn't count on my memory. 

"This is the second time that you almost called me a name beginning with the
letter "P." Once occurred when I first switched in this body, with the second
being just now. Each time, you did it without thinking first." 

Agent J had mock appearance of confusion. He tried to change the subject
slightly. "Are you absolutely sure that some of . . . Denise's memories aren't
coming back to you? We haven't had any experience with this alien, at least
with a victim that lived. We don't know if there are any residual memories
still in your body." 

I tapped a finger to my temple. "None. It's all me up here. I haven't had the
slightest trace of a memory from Denise. I just did up on stage what I
imagined I would want to see if I were still a guy. I guess it kinda worked,
huh?" 

"Then what's with the voice?" 

"I just figured that if the alien found us, before we found him, he would be
expecting me to talk like I used to. I thought I would try to disguise myself
even more by talking with street talk." 

"Agent J stared right into my eyes. "Well, I would appreciate it if you
wouldn't talk like that . . . or do what you did on stage anymore." 

The plot was definitely thickening. "Why? I was just doing what you told me to
do. Wasn't the purpose of us being here was to use my body to make us some
money? I did. In fact, here . . . ." 

I handed the new infusion of cash to Agent J, who leafed through it. 
"Good. That should be more than enough to get us through Miami, even after
paying that slug Lou his cut. I think we should get out of here right now," J
demanded. 

He started to walk away, so I grabbed his arm. "Hold on. There's only 45
minutes left until closing. I think we should make as much cash as possible.
You never know when there's going to be an emergency." 

"No. I think you've had enough. I've asked you to do too much already. It's
time for us to get out of here, so that I can erase your memory of it with the
nueralizer." 

I didn't want that device used on me anymore . . . no matter what. Of all of
the things that I have experienced thus far, by far the worst was having my
memories taken from me. It was like a little piece of my soul was taken away. 
"That's not necessary J. I'm handling it, I'm even having a little fun. It's
interesting to see how men react from the other side of the fence. This is a
once in a opportunity for me. I haven't freaked out or anything yet, have I?" 
"THAT's what worries me. If it were me, I'd be a basket case by now. What you
did on stage was . . . .dangerous. I don't want you doing it again. I don't
want you to talk like that again." 

Now I was absolutely positive that something else was going on. I pressed him. 

"That's bullshit, J. Tell me what's really going on here." 

"I told you before. Denise was trying to clean up here act before the alien
got her. She was trying to pull herself up from what you just did on stage.
She was trying very hard not to talk like a whore from the gutters. I just
don't like to see her memory stained like this again." 

It dawned on me that Agent J was definitely NOT going to like my deal with
Ortega. I had two choices: wait or tell him now. I bit the bullet, deciding to
tell him now because his negative reaction wasn't bound to get any better with
time." 

Sheepishly, I started. "Uh . . . J . . . I mean Will?" 

"Now what?" The man was clearly frustrated with me. It all sounded so easy
back at Eddie's place, but my performance had made everything so complicated. 

"I got us a story to cover us while we are in Miami. The alien will never even
know that we're there. I think it'll be pretty good, and it will give us some
extra money." 

"Really?" Agent J raised one doubtful eyebrow. At least he wasn't overreacting
. . . yet. "Is that what you were talking to that Latin guy about?" 

"Yeah," my voice was hopeful, only to be dashed again by J's next remark. 
"I don't like him. He looks sleazy to me . . . like he makes porn films or
something like that." 

Oh God! Now what? 

"Um . . . actually . . . he is. That's what he does, and he wants me to be in
one of his films that is shooting down in Miami in 2 days. It's perfect for
us. He'll even let you go as my . . . uh . . . boyfriend." 

The rage in Agent J's eyes spoke more volumes than any words ever could. He
didn't even have to vocalize his position on the matter, for that much was
crystal clear. 

"No way," was his controlled answer. It was all that he could do to keep from
screaming at me. 

"C'mon Will. It'll be perfectly safe. I only have to do something with another
girl, so I'll be okay. When you think about it, who could be more qualified
than I am? Ortega will give us free room and board PLUS a salary. It's the
perfect cover!" 

Agent J gripped my shoulders tightly once more. I winced as a sensation of
pain lance up my left shoulder. 

He said a little firmer, yet with all the seriousness of a heart attack, "I
said NO!" 

His reaction left me with one inescapable conclusion . . . one that had been
nagging me ever since coming out of the dressing room. I confronted J with it.
As long as we were laying our cards down on the table, we might as well lay
then ALL down on the table. 

"There was something between you and Denise wasn't there? You had some
feelings for her that went beyond just trying to pull her out of the gutter,
didn't you? Did your girlfriend know about this? Did you tell her before the
alien killed her?" 

Agent J let me go, then turned his back to me. He whispered, in a wounded tone
of voice. 

"Don't mention my girlfriend. Ever. You don't know her . . . you couldn't.
You'll never know what she meant to me. Don't mention P . . . ." His voice
drifted off. 

I'd really and truly hurt the man. That hadn't been my intention. The only
thing that I was trying to do was make a stand for myself. I had to make him
understand that if I was going to be stuck with Denise's body, I would get to
choose what I did with it. If I was stuck with it, I wanted to make lots of
money doing girl-girl movies. I couldn't let him take this opportunity away
from me. 

I put my hand lightly upon Agent J's shoulder. 

"Will . . . I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you by bringing up your
girlfriend. Whatever was between you, her and the real Denise is your business
. . . not mine. However, sooner or later we're going to have to consider what
we're going to do if I'm stuck with this body. Shouldn't I get to pick what I
do with it?" 

"You don't understand . . . you're . . . ." 

Agent J never got to complete his thought, as we were rudely interrupted by
Lou. He wasn't in a great mood either after bing summarily dismissed by
Ortega. I was positive that, in some perverse manner, Lou considered me to be
his property. I wasn't quite sure how to handle that notion. I'd never been
faced with such circumstances before. 

Fortunately, I would only have to tolerate it for a few more minutes. It made
me wonder if all men considered women to be their personal property, to do
with as they pleased? Had I done that with my ex? Agent J was absolutely
showing signs of possessiveness! 

"I thought I told you two to stay away from each other in the club," Lou
blurted angrily. "It ain't good for bizness for the clientele to see Cinnamon
hanging around with a brother. White guys won't want to dance with her if they
think she's getting it from a big black guy!" 

"But we're not . . . ." I tried to protest weakly. 

Lou cut me off. "I don't care WHAT you guys are doin' with each other.
Appearances are everything. Cinnamon, there's a very important customer of
mine asking for you back in the champagne room. He says he'll give you
$1,000.00 to dance for him until closing." 

"She'll pass," Agent J asserted strongly and insistently. "Denise has had
enough for one night. I think we're going to go Lou." 

"Hold on Smith. When I agreed to let her dance here as a favor to Eddie, it
was with the understanding that it'd be until closing. She still owes me 40
minutes. Who are you anyway . . . her agent? I think the girl can decide for
herself." 

Lou was absolutely correct. On top of that Agent J just demonstrated clearly
that he didn't give a damn about what I thought or felt. That pissed me off .
. . a lot. Sooner rather than later, Agent J had to learn that he couldn't
tell me what to do. My life was my own . . . no matter what body I was in.
He'd really forced my hand, so I had no choice. It was time for me to assert
my own individuality. 

	I took Lou's arm, turning away from Agent J, "Show me where your customer is
Louie. Cinnamon doesn't want to disappoint her fans ." 

	Lou lead me away from my confrontation with Will. It was time that he accepted my control over my life. I heard him yelling after me. 

	"Denise. Wait . . . you don't understand . . . ." 

	No. It was Agent J who didn't understand. 



Chapter Nineteen
 

	Lou lead me, arm in arm, to meet one of his important customers. I
felt bad that I had to assert my individuality so strongly with Agent J. I
didn't mean to hurt him in any way, for heaven's sake two women that he cared
deeply about were slain by the alien we were looking for, but he hadn't left
me much of a choice. I think that we both knew deep down inside there would
come a time when I would have to make decisions for myself. 

	I just don't think either of us expected it to be so soon. I had to
take a serious pause at the last. My rapid adaptability was a testament to how
easily I was accepting my status as a sexy black woman. 

	Now that the first step was made, I might as well REALLY act the
part. That would include, when appropriate, speaking with my false "street"
language. I still didn't think that I could go all of the way and function
like a real woman. I was thankful that my sexual activity would be limited to
other woman, so in that sense, I wasn't much different then other strippers. 

	Play acting with men would be as far as I would go. I was a lesbian,
and I turned the word over and over again in my mind. I even had a lover
already . . . Clarisse. 

	 I was seriously debating whether, at this point, I should go home
with Clarisse, rather than Agent J. The status of out mission together was in
serious jeopardy, and, if I DID go home with Clarisse, it meant that I would
be stuck in this body for the rest of my life. That act would absolutely
signal the end of my partnership with Agent J. 

	Things weren't good between us now. I could already tell that
anything that I did to go on with my life would either hurt him or anger him.
I just wish that I knew why . . . something was missing here. 

	Lou stopped sharply on the outside of the champagne room. 

	"Okay, Babe." started Lou. "The K-Dog is just inside on the couches.
His body guards are with him." 

	"K-Dog?" I asked curiously. "That's such an unusual name, Louie." 

	It wasn't lost on me that Lou had called me "Babe." What concerned
me was that it didn't even bother me. I WAS getting used to this new me. 

	"His real name is Khalid. Nobody knows his last name, and that's
just how he prefers it. The man doesn't even like being called Khalid, so make
sure you call him either K-Dog' or just Dog.' And Cinnamon . . . ." 

	"Yes Louie?" 

	"Be very, very careful with K-Dog. He's not a good man, and can be
very rough." 

	"Why is that?" 

	"K-Dog's the biggest drug dealer in this past of the country, Babe.
He's above the law, and can do whatever he wants. Whenever he comes in, I give
him what he wants. He lets me go about my little business. What he wants right
now is you, Babe." 

	Maybe it was because Cinnamon had so many admirers in the club, or
maybe it was the fact that I was brimming with confidence from my
confrontation with Agent J, but in any case, I assured Lou, "You don't need to
worry about me! Little Ole' Cinnamon can handle herself just fine." 

	I struck a pose in an effort to communicate to Lou that I could rely
on the only asset I had, my new body, to get me out of a jam. My learning
curve on just how to utilize those assets had been greatly accelerated by all
of tonight's experiences. I'd already learned that a man would do almost
ANYTHING to touch or be around an attractive woman. 

	I had to stop again. I'd just fallen into the oldest cliche' that
I'd complained about when I was a man . . . I was beautiful and I knew it.
More than that, I was just learning how to use it! It made me wonder if real
women relied on their physical assets this way? 

	Lou stared down at me, directly into my eyes, "Look Denise . . .
this is serious. I don't want to see my star attraction getting hurt by this
guy. If he gives you the least bit of trouble, sing out. We'll be there to get
you out of a tough situation." 

	Even I could not believe what I did next. I stood up on the tips of
my toes to kiss Lou on his stubbly cheek. I did it without even thinking about
it, and it felt so . . . natural. 

	"Thanks Lou. I appreciate that, and I'll be careful." 

	I spun on my heel to enter the champagne room. Even before crossing
the threshold, I'd decided this would be the perfect time to test my street
talk because the was a good chance that K-Dog would be put off by my normal
Caucasian verbiage. He wouldn't be taken aback by a peer or, I gulped, an
inferior . . . nigger. 

	The man that I saw lounging casually in the center of an overstuffed
leather couch had to be the blackest man that I'd ever seen! He had that
pigmentation of skin that was almost blue-black. He smiled at me with
brilliant white teeth, the left front incisor a white gold cap. This K-Dog had
a completely shaved cranium, but not even a trace of facial hair, which was
popular in the Black community these days. 

	The man stared at me with the smoldering eyes of a pure predator! He
wanted me . . . my body . . . badly! 

	K-Dog was dressed in loose fitting, expensive clothes, that served
to disguise his slender, slight physique. Of course, he didn't need to be all
that big, for he was surrounded by an entourage of massive body builder types.
They too were black, with varying shades of brown skin pigmentation. There was
no any doubt that K-Dog was the master of this pack of voracious wolves. Even
though he was, by a large margin, the smallest of the group, the menace that
he radiated was palpable. 

	He directed that lethal smile in my direction. "Hey, Baby. Why don'
chu comes over here, an' sit wit' the Dog?" 

	It wasn't a question that required an answer . . . only submissive
compliance. Nevertheless, I knew that I had to show some personality, lest I
be swallowed whole by this raptor. His voracious stare alone was enough to
raise the hackles on the back of my neck, then it shifted to my outrageous
curvature. 

	I tried to swim with the shark. "You gots nuff in yer pants ta deal
wit' this Bitch, Dog? Ask anyone round here. I'm da bomb, Baby. This girl
here's the Brown Sugar . . . the Chocolate Thunder. You wants ta get jiggy
wit' that?" 

	The last phrase "jiggy" was something that I'd heard in a song by
the actor/rapper/singer, Will Smith. Hmm. That gave me mental pause. Will
Smith? That was the alias currently being used by Agent J, and now that I
though about it, Agent J kind of looked like the famous Will Smith. I wondered
if there was a connection? Nah, couldn't be! I turned back to K-Dog to focus
on the matter at hand. 

	K-Dog smirked, "You is a tough little sister. Talk a good battle,
but can ya use what ya got? Why don' ya come over heres an' let the Dog sample
yer wares. We' all see if I gots the goods ta handle you." 

	It was all going very well. My diction was good enough to convince
K-Dog that I was exactly what I appeared to be . . . an over endowed sister
from the streets. All I had to do was give him a lap dance like all of the
others, pocket the money, and get out of there before anything serious
happened. Perhaps it was my growing confidence in handling the womanly assets
that had been thrust upon me, but I didn't think it was going to be any
problem! 

	There was something else altogether going on here. The way the man
was looking at me, like that of no other, along with the clear and present
danger that he represented triggered the strangest reaction in me. I grew
very, very aroused! My nipples started to swell rapidly, as the empty heat
burned between my legs. 

	It didn't go unnoticed by K-Dog, "Baby's a player. The Dog's got
sumthin' that'll make you feel reeal good. I seen yer act up on the stage, an'
I thinks we can get along good." 

	My feet moved of their own volition over to K-Dog. I sat right
beside him so that out bodies were touching. The heat that radiated from his
wiry, hard body only served to make me more excited. What the hell was going
on here? I may be a woman on the outside, but I was still a man, a white man,
on the inside. I shouldn't be turned on this way by a man, a black man no
less! 

	There was something about him, something chemical that I couldn't
resist. Lord help me, all I wanted to do was nuzzle up against him, touch him,
be touched by him. I couldn't recall wanting anything more in my life . . .
even after what I'd just experienced on stage. 

	Before I knew what I was doing, I had my nose buried in the nape of
his neck, inhaling his natural musk mixed with an unknown brand of cologne.
What ever it was, it was driving me absolutely nuts. My "maidenhood" literally
burned with desire. My hand slipped through K-Dog's open shirt to caress his
sculptured chest, at the same time that my big fleshy lips brushed the skin of
his neck. 

	K-Dog pulled out a white pill from nowhere, almost like slight of
hand, and held it before my eyes in the palm of my hand. "Take it, Baby. I
promises ya that it'll make ya feel like ya never did before." 

	He held it there like he expected me to eat it from his hand like a
pet. I recalled that Lou said to me that he was a big time drug dealer. I
decided that I didn't need anything else, since Agent J had already given me
that Absinthe stuff. Then it hit me like a ton of bricks. That was hours and
hours ago, and surely would have worn off by now. Although it must have placed
me in a frame of mind to strip initially, the last hour or two was . . . all
me? 

	I had done everything in the last two hours, including the final
stage show all on my own. There WAS something happening to me. 

	"W-what's tha' Dog?" 

	K-Dog took one of my big black cantaloupes into his paws, and
started to manhandle it. The fondling sent a shiver of pleasure through my
body, making me swoon. I was putty in his hands . . . he knew it too. 

	"It called Ambrosia, sumthin'`I made myself. It's a outta this
world. ********** 

	Agent J carefully watched the opening to the champagne room for any
sign of trouble. Things were starting to fall apart around him, and he thought
for the first time that it might have not been a good idea to bring Waters
here. Now he had to get him . . . her . . . out of here before it got any
worse. 

	He wore a scowl on his face to signify his level of agitation. Yes,
he wasn't happy with Waters' revelations and behavior. However he knew that he
had to temper his anger, for his companion didn't know the things about the
body that she wore that he knew. If she did, there was no way she would have
done or agreed to do the things she had. Agent J knew in his heart of hearts
that it was truly his fault because he should have told her the truth right
from the start. 

	He wasn't sure that she could have handled the truth. No, Agent J
stopped himself. No he wasn't being honest with himself, as in actuality it
was HE who couldn't handle the truth. 

	A voice directly behind Agent J mirrored his own worries by asking,
"Does she know, Sport?" 

	It was a voice that Agent J recognized in an instant . . . his
partner Agent K. 

	Agent J whirled around to face the ruddy, chiseled Man in Black.
Sure enough, Agent K was clad in the traditional uniform of the MiB Agency:
black single breasted suit, black shoes, white shirt, black tie, and dark
glasses. Agent K wore the same non-plussed expression that he always wore. His
voice was the same gravely, yet calm, baritone. 

	Agent J forced a smile. If his partner was around, the rest of the
MiB was sure to be close at hand. He couldn't be taken in before he got to the
alien. 

	"Know what?" Agent J tried to conceal. 

	"That she's wearing the body of you girlfriend, Peaches . . . that
she carries your unborn child," Agent K asserted matter-of-factly. 

	"No . . . ." started K's partner, before stopping in mid-sentence.
"Hey. Wait a second. Are you saying that you believe me?" 

	"I did some checking on my own, Sport. Body switching aliens is
something that we've never heard or seen before, so I pressed, as only I can,
some of our alien friends." 

	Agent J well knew how Agent K "pressed" aliens for information.
Their friends were no doubt alien informants, employed in various nefarious
occupations on the streets of New York. There was no doubt in J's mind there
were probably more than one alien walking around missing an arm or leg, or
even a head right now. 

	"What did you find out, K?" 

	"Seems that your dealing with an especially nasty alien race called
the Etherium. The other races are so terrified of them that they won't even
mention them, but fortunately, some of them are more terrified of me. In any
case, the penalty for divulging their existence is eradication of the entire
race. It makes a powerful deterrent if you ask me." 

	"And?" pushed Agent J. 

	"They are beings of pure energy. They can live without a body, or
occupy any host. They can switch bodies on contact, which makes them the
ultimate conquering race. Conventional weapons don't work against them.
Apparently the reproduce by absorbing the knowledge and emotions of those they
inhabit, and then split into another entity." 

	Agent J grew excited. "That means the Agency knows? I'm cleared of
the murders?" 

	"Not quite, Sport. As I said, my sources won't go on the record from
fear of annihilation of their race. Only I know, and my belief isn't enough to
clear you. You're going to need more evidence . . . hard evidence." 

	That confused Agent J, "Then why are you here? How did you find me?" 

	"I wasn't looking for you. This is what they call dumb luck, Sport.
I'm working the alien drug case that was assigned to us before you took off,
and my contacts led me here." 

	Agent J's dark eyes rolled back in his head, as he struggled to
recall the details of the abandoned assignment. They'd only had a name at the
time, the name of the drug. 

	"Ambrosia?" Agent J attempted with his senior partner. He waited for
a reaction from K before proceeding any further. Agent K's next remark was
enough to let him know that his guess was right on the mark. 

	"The legendary food of the Gods. It's well named from what I have
discovered." 

	"If I remember correctly, K, we the Agency didn't know all that
much. What have you uncovered since then?" 

	Agent J's eyes shifted from Agent K to the opening of the champagne
room, so that he could at least monitor the activities of his other companion
. . . the man who had the body of his pregnant girlfriend. He still couldn't
tell what was going on inside. 

	K's rushed case update brought Agent J back to his partner. 

	"The stuff ain't mixed, it's a naturally occurring substance. It's
the bodily fluid of some alien bugs." 

	THAT served to grab Agent J's attention. He sought some elaboration,
"What kind of bodily fluid, K?" 

	Agent K smirked, trying the scientific designation first, "Their
seminal fluid." 

	That produced no glint of recognition from the younger, preoccupied
black agent, so Agent K resorted to the more familiar. "Cum, Kid. The shit is
dried bug cum!" 

	"Nasty," exclaimed Agent J, appropriately. "What does it do?" 

	Agent K continued forth with a recitation of the known facts. "It
causes a state of arousal and euphoria that is about a 1000 times more
powerful than cocaine or ecstasy. You could call it a super aphrodisiac. The
side effect is even worse because it shuts down the brain cells of the
cerebral cortex. It makes a person extremely stupid while the drug is working,
making that person very suggestible. They will do anything they are told." 

	The black agent whistled, "I can see why it's so bad, and why it
needs to be off the street. In the wrong hands this could be bad shit!" 

	"Literally," added K sardonically. 

	"Which bugs are they?" 

	"The Terressians. You know? The ones that look like cockroaches that
get in through the ear, then wrap themselves around their hosts spines. They
completely take over the person, yet have complete use of their memories. We
found out that they can modify the body chemistry to pump out phermones to
make themselves hyper desirable to the opposite sex." 

	Agent J finished for K with a little deductive reasoning, "So they
lure in people with the higher phermones, then close the deal with the
Ambrosia. Ready made slaves for whatever their little bug hearts desire." 

	"Exactly, Sport. We have to bring this bug hunt to a close NOW!" 

	"And that's what brings you here now?" asked the junior partner
curiously. Something that he'd overheard Lou telling to Waters was making him
edgy. 

	"Yup. The bug's taken over a drug dealer in these parts that goes by
the street name of K-Dog. He's Mr. Big here, and THAT is the perfect platform
to spread the Ambrosia. I followed him here tonight with his goons. I don't
think any of them are bugs. As far as they know, their boss hasn't been
infected." 

	"HOLY SHIT!" cried Agent J, excitedly. "My . . . uh . . . companion
is dancing for that fucking bug . . . with my girlfriend's body and unborn
child!" 

	Agent J started for champagne room in an absolute rage, only to be
forcibly halted by Agent K. 

	"Wait! You're not thinking straight. If you rush in there, Hell bent
on destruction, somebody's going to get hurt. All we have is you and I, while
he has his whole entourage. We're substantially outnumbered here. We have to
do this very carefully. We'll do this my way, Sport." 

	Agent J got control of himself, nodding intently to Agent K. He
emphasized the point by saying, "We will take care of this bug!" 

	Agent K confirmed, but then added, "Then we'll take care of your
little problem with the Etherium." ********** 

	Over in the corner of the club, but well within earshot of the two
MiB agents was a darkly dressed man. A wreath of smoke from a smoldering
cigarette wrapped around his face and head. The cigarette smoking man glanced
from the two agents that he was watching to the scene playing out within the
champagne room. 

	From the man's unique vantage point he could see both the ersatz
agents and the dancer called Cinnamon. He cross referenced the new information
with that already known, and the resulting conclusion made him look upon the
beautiful Negro stripper with new light. She definitely was not what she
appeared to be . . . if in fact she was a "she" at all. The only problem was
that the black girl's behavior inside the champagne room was not consistent
with a displaced person. Indeed, she was acting every bit the sexually
motivated, and over endowed, stripper. The cigarette smoking man could see
from his position that her eyes were half-closed, as if in a perpetual swoon.
Likewise, her fleshy lips wore a blissful smile. The black girl was completely
disrobed, and sat astride the man the others referred to as "K-Dog." 

	 This K-Dog was alternately pawing her huge black boobs or her
hairless crotch. The petite negro dancer was beginning to grind her loins into
the man's probing fingers. 

	 If the MiB agents were to be believed, the little ebony goddess was
under the spell of alien phermones. 

	 The cigarette smoking man turned back to face the agents. They were
now huddled together, in hushed tones, busily planning an avenue of attack to
extricate the black girl. Now it was the cigarette smoking man's turn to grin.
It would be interesting to see how these MiB agents approached this grave
situation. Their methods and tactics would tell him much about the level of
their knowledge, training, expertise, and weaponry. 

	 That much was needed! Up until this point, the Syndicate had no
knowledge of this agency within the American Government named "MiB." They
represented a potential threat to the Syndicate and their plans, and from the
appearance of things, possessed even more knowledge about alien presence upon
this planet. 

	 Indeed . . . . it would be most interesting. These two agents could
conceivably provide him with the most worthy adversaries since Mulder and
Scully. Whatever the score, the cigarette smoking man knew that he was in for
the long haul. These two could lead him to the alien that appeared to be
linked to Mulder's active case down in Miami. As long as the cigarette smoking
man followed them . . . just out of sight . . . he would find his quarry! 

	All he had to do was lay back to enjoy the show. The cigarette
smoking man dropped his spent cigarette butt to the floor, crushing it beneath
his heel in a grinding motion. He reached for its replacement, which he lit
from an old style lighter. Heaven only knew where that could have come from,
although the initials "JFK" hinted at some past skullduggery. 

	Another shift of vision noticed that this so called "K-Dog" was
unzipping his pants. Even HE had enough of this foreplay. Business was about
to pick up! 
            _

To Be Continued!