Shifti - User contributions [en]

Livremor Estate

2009-06-09T07:08:37Z

Martin Divo: add image links

{{XXX}}

{{title
|name= Livremor Estate
|author=Martin Divo
|user=Martin Divo}}

{{separator|d|Part 1}}

The lecture droned ever on and on. Lori took notes idly, mixing in plenty of doodles and keeping an eye on the clock. Botany wasn't one of her better subjects but it was more due to lack of interest rather than the difficulty of the material.

Maria sat next to her and had her attention much more intently focused. Every once in a while a lock of her shoulder-length brown hair would slip down to hang over her notepad and she'd brush it back without breaking her writing. Lori sighed quietly. She had known Maria from other courses they took together and hoped that sharing this lecture with her would alleviate the boredom, but although the company was nice enough Maria was not much for interacting during class. Lori glanced at the clock again. Just fifteen minutes left to go on this one, then they'd have some free time.

She considered trying to get Maria to come with her to the university gym. Maria didn't really need it - the young woman was frustratingly fit and attractive for someone who didn't exercise regularly - but Lori enjoyed a good workout and had always felt Maria would too. Maria, for her part, had always declined. She considered ''that'' to be boring.

"-and so the apical cells of the peristem respond to the light, like so, causing an ataxic behavior..." Dr. Cass's explanation and chalky scribbling on the blackboard trailed off unexpectedly. Maria was too busy catching up to that point in her notes to notice but Lori cocked her head and frowned. There was a growing sound of commotion outside, people running and shouting in the hallways. The tension was infectious; something bad was going on. Dr. Cass headed over toward the lecture hall door to check on the situation.

The door slammed open before he got to it and a panicked-looking man leaned in. "Elves!" He hollered. "It's a raid!"

That caught everyone's attention, even studious Maria's. Dr. Cass immediately started trying to say something to the class - perhaps some sort of directions or reassurances - but the reaction from the students was a split second faster. He was drowned out by the sound of a hundred people jumping out of their chairs and dropping everything as they scrambled for the door to join the throng in the hall. Lori and Maria were swept up along with them as everyone in their row of seats pushed to get out.

Definitely not the sort of excitement that Lori had been hoping for. ''Oh god, an elf raid! This is serious.''

Lori grabbed Maria's hand, trying not to get separated in the jostling press of people as she forged her way through. She wasn't sure where they were going but it occurred to her that being part of the fleeing mob was probably the worst place to be. "Come on, Maria! We have to hide!" A glance back at Maria's wide-eyed expression suggested she might not have heard or understood her, so Lori kept her grip firm and pushed onward.

Elves. Just when it had seemed like science had finally triumphed and the world had become a rational, comprehensible place, ''they'' started showing up. The first well-documented raid had been almost five years ago now, a small group that had hit a mall in Kansas, but there had been vague reports from years earlier in other parts of the world that in hindsight must have been earlier scouting parties. They wore ornately-embroidered costumes reminiscent of some sort of pseudo-Victorian age and wielded stun-bows and staves as weapons.

That was all the elves needed. Despite the best efforts the nations of humanity had been able to muster, the elves were unstoppable. They had magical abilities beyond current understanding. They appeared anywhere they liked in a flash of light, bullets and other projectiles were somehow harmlessly deflected, and their own weapons' effects passed through any armor that had been tried against them. Even when all that was overcome - Lori remembered hearing about someone who'd successfully fought off an elf by using a baseball bat and a ton of chutzpah - they could retreat at will back to wherever they came from. Taking along the spoils of their raid... ''Definitely have to hide,'' Lori thought. The idea of fighting was secretly an appealing one, but fortunately realism and fear had a more solid grip on her. There was no point in fighting if they could simply avoid it.

She and Maria broke out of the main crush of students and into a stairwell that nobody else seemed to be using at the moment. They headed up the stairs. They were in the biology building, well known around campus for its confusing floor plan, and Lori had a notion of finding a deserted office to duck into. The elves would hopefully be drawn to the big, vulnerable mass of students pouring into the quad and not bother rooting around inside for stragglers. Lori bit her lip, realizing how cold-blooded the thought was. But it wasn't something she could do anything about.

"Wh-where are we going?" Maria panted, a bit winded from the climb.

Lori shook her head, realizing that they were just running aimlessly now, and grabbed the nearest doorknob at random. "Here."

It was a lab of some sort, with rows of benches and shelves cluttered with all manner of beakers and binders. Perfect. The two slipped in and slammed the door behind them.

A young man, apparently the sole occupant of the room, looked up from his desk in surprise. "Uh, hello?" Obviously he had no idea what was going on out there.

"Elf raid," Lori told him brusquely as the two of them barged through to the far end of the room. There was a window there and she wanted to see if she could catch a glimpse of what was going on outside.

"Oh. Oh!" The man leapt to his feet. "Here? Now?" Lori didn't deign to respond but Maria nodded and her obviously frightened expression convinced him they weren't lying. "Holy shit!"

"Shh!" Lori let go of Maria's hand and peered through the venetian blinds. She winced. It looked much as she'd thought it would out there; dozens of people were lying on the grass, struck down as they'd fled by bolts from elven stun-bows. A cloaked figure was walking gracefully among them, kneeling down by each in turn and doing something in the vicinity of their heads. Lori had never seen an elf before, thank God, and couldn't help but be fascinated. There was something so elegant and compelling about the way the elf moved, and the effect was even somehow enhanced by how dangerous they were...

In her distraction Lori didn't notice the man heading for the door, but Maria did. "Hey, wait," she called, catching up and grabbing his arm as he flung it open.

Lori turned just in time to see the flare of a stun-bolt envelop them both. They collapsed without a sound and Lori clapped a hand to her mouth, stifling a yelp. ''Oh god no!'' Approaching footsteps echoed in the hall outside, and then a melodious voice with a strange accent; "Finally! Accursed maze of a building!"

Lori ducked down behind one of the benches. She kept her hand over her mouth, breathing hard and in a near panic but with the presence of mind to stay absolutely silent. She heard the elf pause at the door, presumably checking the room for other occupants. After a moment, she heard a shuffle of cloth and a pair of metallic snaps.

Then she heard the elf resume walking. Lori took a moment to work up the nerve and peered around the corner. Maria and the young man were lying in a heap just outside the door, the elf having dragged them just far enough to disentangle them. Heart pounding with fear but moving as quietly as she could, Lori got up and crept toward them.

They were both completely motionless but their eyes were open and they seemed to be breathing; they were only paralyzed. Lori met Maria's pleading gaze and winced. The elf had fastened what looked like sturdy leather collars around their necks before moving on. Lori knew what those were for. They were retrieval collars, they drew the elves' victims along with them when they finished a raid. Nobody knew how they actually worked, of course, but if she could just get it off of her... Lori didn't know how much time she had so she figured she had to hurry. The fastener was an unfamiliar design, some sort of rectangular buckle with no loose ends protruding or other obvious ways to undo it. She'd have to try cutting it off, assuming the lab had a knife or scalpel handy. She stepped out and hefted Maria up over her shoulder to carry her inside.

A stunbolt hit Lori in the small of her back, not doing any physical damage but sending an electric jolt shooting through her entire body. She let out a gasp and her knees folded, the two of them sinking back down to the floor.

She felt tingly and her muscles were completely unresponsive, but she was still fully aware of the world around her and still fully capable of feeling fear. The elf approached again, obviously not having gone as far away as Lori had thought, and knelt down beside her. She'd never thought she'd see one ''this'' close. He looked almost human.

He had a wry smirk on his lips. "Trying to steal my catch, eh? Not after such a lousy hunt, you're not." He took a short leather strap from a pouch on his belt and slipped the end around Lori's neck, pulling it snug and snapping the fastener shut with an expert hand. The loose end dropped cleanly off and he tucked it back in the pouch.

Then the elf got back up and moved on, leaving Lori alone with the others. Her head was resting on Maria's abdomen, rising and falling slightly with her breathing in what would normally be a rather comfortable and relaxing way. Far from relaxed, though, she screamed and struggled with all her might inside her mind, trying to force herself to move through sheer will. The band around her neck was a heavy presence, a ticking time bomb that could go off at any moment. She ''had'' to get it off. But the only outward signs of her effort was an occasional slight tremble and a quiet whimper.

A clock wasn't within her field of vision so she had no idea how long she actually lay there. It seemed like ages. Sweat beaded on her brow as she kept trying to move or even just call for help. ''Where is everyone? Why isn't anyone helping us?'' Anyone left was probably in hiding now just like she'd planned for herself, she realized with bitter irony. Even big raids like this seldom lasted more than an hour in densely populated areas. It could have been perhaps half an hour along already by the time she'd been shot. Any minute now it would be over..

The tingling from the collar around her neck started to grow and she let out a final desperate whimper, knowing what was about to happen. This was it; nobody had ever come back from the fairy realm, or wherever the hell the elves took people. The collar's magic flooded through her body and there was a sudden overwhelming light, accompanied by a sensation of falling helplessly through space. Lori passed out.

{{Separator|d|Part 2}}

She woke up again with a start. She was lying in a dimly-lit place with a rough wooden floor and bare beams visible in the shadowy ceiling. She could hear the quiet murmur of people talking or sobbing, and the occasional louder curse or wail of despair. She realized that her paralysis had worn off and she sat up quickly, a surge of adrenaline shooting through her.

The room was large, perhaps a hundred feet long or more, and was divided up into cells by thick iron bars. The lighting came from lanterns hung along the far wall. The cells were filled with people, all apparently people from the raid she'd fallen victim to, and she looked around in alarm.

"Lori! Lori, it's okay." Maria crouched down next to her. She was in the same cell as her, they were still together.

Lori breathed a sigh of relief at the familiar face. "Thank god. Are you, ow, are you okay?" Maria helped Lori to her feet, her muscles having become sore from lying on the hard floor for an unknown length of time. Maria nodded.

"I'm okay too, thanks," grumbled a man sitting in the corner. Lori glanced down and almost laughed; it was the guy they'd encountered in the lab. They'd all wound up in the same cell together. Taking time to absorb more detail, Lori looked around again and tried to take stock of their situation.

The three of them were alone in their cell, probably the lowest occupancy of any of the cells she could see. Some of the cells had dozens packed into them with standing room only, those must have been quite a tangle if everyone had started out unconscious like she had. Their pockets had been emptied but they were all still wearing the same clothes; Maria in cutoff jeans that showed way too much leg for this time of year, Lori a more practical set of full-length pants and a jacket, the man in his slacks and shirt. Nothing of obvious use for getting out of here. And they were all still wearing the retrieval collars that had yanked them out of their world.

Lori's hands flew to her neck and she grabbed hers, probing the strangely shaped buckle that held it and trying to loosen it any way she could. Maria shook her head and tried to pull Lori's hands away. "No, don't! We tried-"

"Ah!" Lori cringed, a terrible feeling shooting through her. It wasn't pain, exactly, but it was very unpleasant and made her muscles spasm. As soon as she let go of the collar, though, the feeling just as abruptly eased and she took a shaky breath. "Okay. Something not to do."

Maria nodded. "Seems like everyone tries that when they wake up. If you try too hard it gets really bad." She glanced over at the man sitting in the corner of their cell. He'd apparently been one of those to demonstrate this and Lori felt a pang of disappointment that she hadn't been awake to see it. She had developed an instant dislike for the man after he'd blundered out into the hall like that.

Realizing he was the center of attention, the man sighed and climbed to his feet to get level with them. "Hi," he greeted with little enthusiasm. "My name's Bryce Samson."

Lori gave a little snort but figured they were in this together now so a little civility might be in order. "Lori Yates. Maria Reese."

Bryce nodded. "Good to know the names of the girls who got me into this."

Lori's expression hardened. "''We'' got you into this? If you hadn't run out there and grabbed that elf's attention-"

A subtle change in the tone of the room's background noise interrupted their dispute over blame, the increased undercurrent of fear grabbing their attention. A door at the far end of the room opened and several people - elves - entered. They wore elaborate uniforms similar to those the hunters had worn and carried short batons that resembled the longer stun staves the hunters used. Presumably they were guards.

More elves followed, a mixture of both male and female, these wearing much more elaborate outfits. They looked like nobility, or at least like they were in the upper class of whatever social order there was around here. The assembly walked slowly down the length of the room, individual elves pausing and examining the captives as they came.

"Hey, what's going on here? What are you doing with us?" One of the men farther up the row of cells demanded. "Yeah, come on. Let us out!" Someone else chimed in.

One of the guards stepped toward them and held out his stun baton. Everyone in that cell immediately grunted in distress and staggered, grabbing their collars. The sensation evidently passed quickly but the one who'd spoken up remained very quiet after that. The glare from his cell mates probably helped that decision.

One of the fancily-dressed elves stopped three cells down from theirs, studied the occupants an unusually long time, then leaned over to quietly confer with one of the guards. The guard nodded and stepped up to the bars. The people inside nervously stepped back, but all the guard did was fasten a tag to a hook on the front. "Lot sixteen to Lord Ellewyn Devoine, three hundred florins," He announced. There was a quiet murmur among several of the elves and the one who'd indicated his choice headed for the door to leave.

"Oh my god," Maria breathed to Lori. "They're ''selling'' us."

"Shh!" Bryce shushed Maria. He had apparently taken the punishment meted out to the talkative fellow's cellmates to heart and didn't want to draw any attention. Lori didn't like being told to be quiet but she didn't actually have anything to say so she had to agree, giving Maria's arm a silent squeeze.

Slaving had, of course, been one of the main theories about the elves' motives. They rarely stole any physical objects - mostly books, grabbed opportunistically in the course of their people-hunts - and they seemed to take care not to harm their captives. But Lori had never really thought about the implications of being on the receiving end of that. It was terrifying now that she did. She would be at these elves' mercy. What did they have in mind for them?

To her relief, though, there didn't seem to be a lot of interest in her and her companions. The cells to either side of theirs were quickly claimed but theirs kept getting passed over. Lori avoided meeting the gazes of their neighbors. They had the feel of condemned prisoners about them now and she had no way to help them, she could only stand huddled with Maria at the back and hope to avoid sharing their fate. The question of what would happen to them if they ''didn't'' get sold was a worrying one too, for all she knew it meant some form of hideous disposal, but that was something she could worry about later when they got to it.

An elf-woman stopped in front of their cells and Lori flinched when she realized how intently she was sizing the trio up. Her clothing wasn't as richly embroidered or elaborate as most of the others but she had the same regal bearing that suggested she was used to getting her way. She cocked her head, examining each of them in turn. When her gaze focused on Lori she tried to stare back confidently, but something in the elf's eyes made it very hard for Lori to keep her resolve.

The elf-woman beckoned to one of the guards and leaned close when he arrived. "These ones," she murmured. "Fifty florins."

"Lot nineteen to Lady Jera Livremor, fifty florins," the guard announced, and hung a tag on the bars.

"Holy crap," Bryce wheezed, then clamped a hand over his mouth and cringed slightly. Lori shot him a sharp glance and then tried to match Jera's gaze again. ''Not afraid of you,'' she though, even though the heartbeat thudding loudly in her ears may have indicated otherwise.

A slight grin quirked the corners of Jera's mouth and then she moved on, leaving the room with the last of the stragglers. Lori let out a long and shaky breath. They'd been bought by an elf. ''God. Not how I expected to wind up finding a job.'' She almost laughed at the thought but she was too nervous and angry for that.

There were still plenty of unknowns left to worry about. Whatever was going on here, this was just the beginning.

{{Separator|d|Part 3}}

The elves were as efficient as they were elegant. As soon as the last buyers had left the room a fresh set of guards came pouring in. Each bore a length of fine silvery chain and made a beeline for a cell bearing a tag on its hook. One came for them. "Take this," he instructed, offering them the chain through the bars. They all hesitated, of course, but Bryce set his jaw and moved first to accept it. The chain was about eight feet long in total and had four hinged metal loops spaced evenly down its length. "Each of you attach one," he told them, gesturing illustratively toward his neck. "Leave the fastener at one end free."

This was the first time any of the captives had actually been ordered to do anything and all up and down the row of cells there was a swell of confusion and consternation. Some people were refusing, and the guards were being quick to deploy their magical punishments to force compliance from them or their cell mates. Bryce swallowed nervously and hooked one of the end loops through a ring mounted in his collar, fastening it with a snap. He offered the chain to Lori and Maria. "Who's next in line?" He asked gamely.

Lori seriously considered punching him since there was nobody else she could easily reach who deserved it. But while she weighed just how badly the guard would react to that, Maria stepped forward. "I'll do it," she murmured, raising her chin to proffer her collar.

Bryce fastened Maria to the chain. "Sorry," he apologized.

Lori snorted and grabbed the rest of the chain. ''I'll be damned if I let that guy chain me up.'' She connected herself after Maria, grimacing as she did so, then looked back to the guard for instruction. He opened the cell door and reached out to take the loose end of the chain, holding his stun baton at the ready in his other hand. Lori grudgingly handed it over. He took the tag off the hook by the door and fastened it to the end, keeping their group's ownership clearly marked.

Other groups of people strung together on chains were being led out of the room by now and they joined them. Lori kept looking for openings to fight back, with just three on their chain she figured they had at least a minor advantage, but the elves were professionals; at the slightest disturbance whole chains of people were shocked into submission and their chain mates strove to keep the troublemakers in line afterward. Lori didn't want to take Maria down with her in some futile gesture of defiance so she figured she'd only take a chance if there was a really obvious opening.

There wasn't one. The three of them followed the guard's lead, passing through a number of corridors and rooms with heavy wooden doors, until they reached the outside of the building. They discovered they were in the heart of an elven city.

The architecture was strongly Victorian in flavor, though with the increased elegance and artistry Lori had come to expect from elves. The time seemed to be mid-afternoon and the cobblestone street was bustling, conventional horse drawn carriages mixed with rickshaws drawn by strange bipedal horse-creatures. There were even occasional elven pedestrians. All along the front of the building large carts and carriages of various sorts were parked, obstructing some of Lori's view. Still, she couldn't help but be amazed. ''This'' was the civilization that had been terrorizing Earth for years now? Magic aside, it was all so primitive!

The guard took them a short distance down the street. The sight of people being led around on chains was evidently not an unusual one in this neighborhood, nobody gave them a second glance and Lori suspected they wouldn't help them if they made a break for it. They stopped at a small one-horse coach at the end of the row and he rapped on the door. "Your purchase, M'lady." The coach door opened to reveal Lady Jera Livremor, who nodded wordlessly to the guard and held out her hand to take the chain from him.

He hesitated. "Are you sure, m'Lady? They're uncharmed, would you perhaps prefer an escort..."

"I can control my property," she snapped imperiously, brandishing a short wand that was presumably a variant on the guard's baton.

The guard shrugged and handed the chain over to her. "As m'Lady wishes."

Lori found herself standing just two feet of chain away from Jera. The two regarded each other for a moment and then Jera gave the chain a sharp tug. "In," she commanded. "I have no time or patience to break you here in this street."

"Okay, okay, we're coming, uh, m'Lady..." Bryce gave a gentle nudge to Maria, who nudged Lori in turn and got them all moving.

Jera gave Bryce a thin smile as they climbed into the back seat of the coach. "A decent attempt. But as your first lesson in civility, I warn you never to use that title again. Lady is a title for elven lips, you will refer to me as either Mistress Livremor or simply Mistress."

Bryce nodded. "Mistress. Of course. Sorry."

It was probably a good thing Lori had wound up on the other end of the chain from Bryce with Maria in between or she would have been even more tempted to smack him. She really didn't like the idea of jumping through these demeaning hoops.

Once they were in the back seat and the door was secured, Jera turned to a sliding panel at the front of the coach and gave an order; "Home, horse." The horse whickered and then at the first break in the traffic they pulled out into the street.

Jera turned back to the three of them. "Now, I'm sure you have many questions. The hunting guilds do as little as possible to inform the humans they retrieve from Earth since every slave-dealer has his own methods and preferences for how to prepare their stock." The corner of her mouth tugged in another slight smile. "I am one who finds it preferable to do it all myself. Much less costly purchasing you lot straight from the hunter's combine, too. Unsuccessful hunters make for good bargains."

That last comment seemed oddly out of place under the circumstances and Lori actually stifled a grin of her own. ''Lady Livremor is a cheapskate.'' "Um, a question," Lori asked once a suitable pause had developed. "What do you plan to do with-"

Jera cut Lori off with an upraised wand, her smile gone again. "Second lesson," she said. "Speak only when spoken to and ask no questions unless they are necessary for properly obeying the orders you are given. And do not use 'you' as a form of address to your superiors, it is overly familiar."

Lori opened and closed her mouth a few times, trying to figure out how to respond. Perhaps she could snatch the wand away... Maria saw the wheels turning in Lori's mind and put her hand on Lori's arm, stopping her from doing or saying anything they might all regret. "Of course, mistress," Lori hissed at last. "My apologies."

Jera raised an eyebrow at Lori's tone and fingered her wand, causing all three of them to tense in anticipating of punishment. But she just gave a nod. "Suitable for now. Since at this point I am sure it will be easier to simply satisfy your curiosity than teach you to control yourselves, however, I will tell you some things about why you are here. In the largest sense, do you know why we have chosen your people to enslave?" They all gave slight shakes of their heads, too nervous about saying something wrong to speak up. "It is very simple. We the elves, and this entire world that we live in, are suffused with magic. You, the humans, are not. Your world is a lower, lesser plane than ours that is completely bereft of any magic we do not bring there ourselves. In this world magic can only be enhanced, never weakened or dispelled, so we find your kind ideally controllable and adaptable in serving to our mundane needs."

It was demeaning and racist, of course, but for all Lori knew it was perfectly true. ''Still doesn't give you the right-''

"As for why you are here in the more immediate sense," Jera continued, cutting off Lori's thought before she could turn it into an argument. "I am as you have no doubt surmised a Lady of some status and means. I have come into the possession of a new country estate, one whom the previous tenants have left in some degree of disrepair. You three will be servicing and maintaining this estate." The half-smile returned to the corners of her mouth and Lori wondered if she was even capable of a broader expression than that.

They continued their rather one-sided conversation as the coach clopped along, leaving the cobbled city streets and heading out onto the dirt roads of the countryside. ''They don't even have paved roads...'' Lori grumbled to herself. She kept listening with half an ear as Jera rambled on about the wonders of elvenkind and how lowly humans were compared to them. There were some useful tidbits of information in there, no doubt, but for now she was having some difficulty paying attention; she kept thinking of how she'd actually rather be back in botany. Maria stayed quiet too, presumably lost in her own thoughts. Bryce was the only one who played along particularly well, prompting 'Mistress Livremor' to continue explaining as best he could. She was obviously taking a liking to his transparent kowtowing and that only worsened Lori's funk.

Finally, after what must have been at least an hour, the coach turned down a particularly rickety trail - it didn't deserve the name 'road' - that led through a lush patch of woods up to a fair-sized wood framed manor house. It was two stories tall, not counting the high attic and any basement that might be underneath, with ornately carved details everywhere and exotically arched architecture just like everything elvish they'd seen so far. But it was also the first visibly run-down building they'd encountered. The paint needed work, the lawn was overgrown, and Lori half expected to see a carriage up on cinder blocks out front.

"Livremor Manor," Jera announced as the coach pulled up to a stop before the front porch. They climbed out of the coach and as soon as they were out the horse took off on its own, circling around to take the coach back the way they'd come. "A fine country retreat for an artist such as myself. Once it is staffed, of course." She clapped her hands, startling the trio, and a moment later a young male elf came out of the front door. He looked about eighteen, though of course it was impossible to tell what that equated to in human years. He was wearing finery of simpler design than Jera's though it too was heavily embroidered.

"M'Lady," he bowed curtly.

She gave him a perfunctory nod back. "This is Eosin Sharelos, temporarily in my employ as master of this house," she introduced him.

"Pleased to meet you, Master Sharelos," Bryce bowed deeply. Maria gave a quick, awkward curtsy and a moment later Lori did likewise. Curtsying was definitely ''not'' her style.

Jera gave a satisfied sigh. "Well, then. I have been pondering your roles while we rode and it already seems clear to me what you're best suited for. You, there -" she pointed at Bryce - "will take over much of the household work that Sharelos has been unfairly burdened with. You will be cooking and cleaning and ultimately serving my guests." She reached over and disconnected Bryce's collar from the chain. "Go with him now. He will get you into uniform and show you some of what is expected."

Bryce blinked, as surprised by the sudden decision as the rest of them. After only a moment's hesitation, though, he gave another quick bow. "Um, okay, Mistress Livremor." Her lips quirked at the mixture of formal and informal in his speech and she watched him hurry awkwardly up the stairs to be taken inside by Eosin.

Lori was confused. That was a pretty comprehensive job description, what was left for her and Maria? "M'lady- um, I mean, Mistress Livremor," she stammered. "What-" Maria cut her off with a vigorous squeeze to the arm, shaking her head silently.

Jera ignored Lori's outburst completely. "You're probably wondering why that one got the most prestigious position. Skill is irrelevant, you will all learn your jobs soon enough. But attitude is sometimes harder to adjust. You-" she pointed at Maria "-show no enthusiasm for service like that one does. And you-" Lori's turn this time "-well, it's obvious how poorly you would fare. Fortunately there are other roles on this estate that will minimize your elven interaction and I only really need one servant in the house anyway. Come." She turned and started walking off around the side of the manor house, and when the two girls didn't immediately follow she turned and repeated more sharply; "Come!"

The two obeyed, trailing the chain that still bound them together.

{{Separator|d|Part 4}}

'Livremor Manor' was a farmhouse.

As they rounded the structure and saw the grounds spread out before them Lori's heart sank slightly. It was even more unkempt back here. A small stable and coach house was tucked away to one side, and a number of other storage sheds as well, but what dominated the view was a huge and somewhat ramshackle barn. An elvish barn, mind you, with carvings and decorations galore, but still a barn.

"As you can see my estate has a hobby-farm on its grounds," Jera explained airily. "In fact, the former owner worked it as a farm exclusively. Uncouth yokel. Maintaining the estate's grounds will be your role. For the rest of today you will work on cleaning this barn, a simple task that should require no training. I will have more time to spend on preparing you tomorrow."

There was a distinct odor in the air that suggested the place had seen use by cattle recently and when they opened the barn doors the scent rolled out over them in a wave that left them momentarily breathless. The place was a tremendous mess. Neither Lori nor Maria had ever had experience on a farm before, they'd barely even visited them, but they knew it was very labor-intensive. "Um, Mistress Livremor..." Maria began haltingly, pausing to see whether she'd spoken out of turn. Jera gave her a slight nod and Maria continued. "I'm not really in the best of shape, and there's just the two of us... I'm not sure we can handle all of this by ourselves."

Jera's smile widened more than Lori had thought possible. "You humans are adaptable, as I have said. Elven magic will help you serve me. Come here." She unhooked the chain from their collars, rolling it up and tucking it away in a pocket, then took out a small velvet-lined case. There were two identical tokens inside, each a small silvery metal square that bore a symbol resembling an upturned crescent moon with a trapezoid suspended underneath, narrow end down. She took one out and gestured to Maria, who hesitantly raised her chin again to give her access to her collar.

Jera placed the token over the fastener. There was a recess built into it that seemed specifically intended as a receptacle for the token and it clicked in perfectly. Jera held it in place with her finger for a moment and Maria developed a concerned expression, then there was a sudden spark of light and Maria gasped. The token had welded seamlessly into the fastener and was glowing faintly.

Lori moved to grab Maria in case she needed support, but Jera stopped her with a gesture and drew a second token. "You too," she ordered.

Lori set her jaw defiantly. "What did you do to her?"

Jera sighed in frustration. "I am weary of your insolence." She put away the velvet case and drew her wand, pointing it at Lori. Lori started an attempt to dodge but the terrible feeling overcame her instantly and nearly dropped her to the ground in a trembling heap. Jera kept the punishment up for a moment and then once Lori seemed to have ceased her struggle she released her again.

Now it was Maria's turn to offer support, helping Lori straighten back up. Jera held out the token again, waiting to see whether Lori would be more compliant this time. Lori still hesitated. She was getting pretty weary of Jera herself, and inflicting pain did nothing to convince her of the wisdom of complying. But Maria looked at her pleadingly, and Jera seemed ready to punish her with that terrible feeling again... Lori grudgingly raised her chin.

Jera inserted the token into Lori's collar, pressing gently but firmly against her throat. Lori felt a growing tingle, much like the one that had preceded the transition to this world when she'd first been captured, and then with a flash of light the same sort of jolt shot through her body, making her stagger. Jera took her hand away and Lori gingerly touched the fastener to explore how the token was affixed to it. ''Just great. It'll be even harder to get this bloody collar off now.''

Jera nodded. "Good. The enchantment is primed, it will develop as you work." She didn't explain that somewhat unclear statement any further, instead directing them to a corner where some shovels and other tools were haphazardly piled. She gave them vague directions on where to deposit what, showed them a rain barrel for when they got thirsty, and then retired from the stinking barn back to the house. Lori and Maria were left alone with each other and their monumental task.

It was the first time they'd been left alone since shortly after Lori woke up and they both relaxed in relief. "If only there were a river we could redirect through here..." Lori sighed. Maria grinned at the Augean stable reference. "Good god. I can't believe it. We've been kidnapped by elves, dragged across the planes of existence, and all so we can shovel old cow manure?"

Maria looked around. "Well, it does need it, obviously."

Lori snorted. "Obviously. It's, what, six o'clock? Seven? Local time, anyway. I should be home by now. Instead I'm-" she broke off, noticing Maria's trembling lip. "Oh, I'm sorry." No further words needed to be exchanged on that subject, it was obvious to both of them that they weren't going home again any time soon. They hugged instead, giving each of them a familiar touch to cling to for a little while.

"Thanks," Maria said when they separated at last. "I needed that. I'm glad you're with me."

Lori chuckled. "I guess if one of us has to be here, it's better to have both. I wonder what Bryce is up to in there, something cushy no doubt... Oh, never mind him."

"So what do we do now?" Maria's question was plaintive.

Lori glanced around, double-checking for elves. "Let's look around. Maybe there's something we can do. Jera doesn't strike me as the most together sort of elf."

"I don't know..."

But Lori was already heading back to the barn door, left ajar by Jera when she'd departed. She peered outside and didn't see any sign of observation; a quick dash around the corner of the barn would take them out of view of the house altogether. When Lori leaned out to get a better view, however, she let out a gasp and jerked her head back in.

"What?" Maria yelped, worried something horrible had happened to Lori.

Something had, sort of. She rubbed her neck ruefully. "Got zapped. Probably something automatic, like one of those invisible dog fences. I think we're supposed to stay in here."

Maria nodded. "Yeah... so what do we do in here?"

Lori sighed. Jera had evidently covered the obvious approaches and Lori didn't relish the idea of poking her head out of every opening in the barn to see if she'd overlooked anything. She also didn't see any tools that looked like they'd be capable of cutting through their slave collars, at least not quickly enough to prevent their magical safeguards from taking a terrible toll. So if escape would have to wait... She shucked her jacket and picked up one of the shovels. "I guess let's do this thing."

They got to work. After breaking through the layers of matted manure and old straw they discovered that there was actually a flagstone floor buried under it all. The fact that it hadn't been visible gave them a disheartening impression of the scope of their unpleasant task.

At first they worked half-heartedly and chatted a lot about emotionally safe topics to break the monotony. Maria had apparently been a secret fan of a reality show called 'The Simple Life', where a couple of vacuous Hollywood girls went to live on a farm for the season, and she kept drawing amusing parallels between their situations. Lori had barely heard of the show herself but didn't mind letting Maria go on about it to distract from what they were doing.

But after a while the single-minded nature of the work slowly began to grow on them and they spoke less. The steady rhythm of motion and flex of muscle actually started to feel pleasant in its own right. ''Just like a workout in the gym,'' Lori realized. She kept slipping into the 'zone' and had to actually force herself to work less efficiently. She didn't want Jera to know exactly how much work she could really do, and she definitely didn't want to ''enjoy'' doing the work.

By the time the Sun set low enough in the sky that its reddening glow became hard to see by they'd managed to clear out a quarter of the central aisle and had removed the rotten feed from most of the troughs in the various stalls. Their muscles were solid aches, they were ravenously hungry, and they'd drunk so much water from the rain barrel that they felt quite bloated. Whatever those softly glowing tokens embedded on their collars were supposed to do it didn't seem to have helped much.

They were just about ready to give up when Jera finally returned, holding a cloth over her face to filter the dusty air inside the barn. Lori and Maria had had no such protection and Lori didn't want to think about the dust her nose was stuffed with right now; her face was puffy from some sort of allergic reaction. "Well well, girls, you've given me hope yet," she told them as she surveyed their work.

Lori was so delirious with fatigue that she actually smiled at the compliment for a moment and Maria murmured a quiet "thank you, Mistress." Part of Lori was upset at that - why should ''they'' be thanking ''her'' under these circumstances? - but another part decided it was best not to challenge her on that right now. She was in no condition for a fight.

"Well, then. I suppose I should let you stop for the night. And in recognition of your effort, I've brought you some food fresh from the garden. Sharelos harvested it but you'll be tending that yourselves eventually once this place is straightened out. I'll save a lot if I don't have to import produce. Bridgette!" She snapped her fingers. A figure they hadn't noticed following Jera stepped out meekly from behind her.

In their exhausted state it took them a moment to recognize Bryce. He was dressed in a French maid's outfit, of all things! It looked absolutely ridiculous on him and his cheeks were blazing red with embarrassment. He proffered a large wooden bucket and refused to meet Lori's gaze.

Lori stifled a snicker at Bryce's predicament, but found it hard to focus on that despite how amusing the moment was. She focused instead on the bucket Bryce held. She was hungry enough to start salivating without even knowing what was in it yet.

Jera nodded to Bryce, who set the bucket down just inside the door and then stepped demurely back out of the barn. "Eat up and sleep well, girls. You'll need your strength for tomorrow." She turned to go.

Lori blinked, confusion momentarily overcoming both good sense and the urgency of her hunger. She didn't want to eat ''here.'' "Um, can't we... Mistress, may we go inside now?"

The question was probably a breach of protocol but Jera must have been in a good mood because she merely chuckled. "Heavens, no. You can't go in the house, what were you thinking?" She turned back to them and pointed up. "You'll stay in the loft. There's straw up there for bedding. Bridgette, the door." Jera stepped back and Bryce swung the barn door shut, giving them a final apologetic glance. They were left alone again.

Lori and Maria looked at each other in dismay. They were sweaty and filthy, totally exhausted, and they wouldn't even have a bath or a bed for their troubles. But at least they ''did'' have food now... Without a word the two of them turned and hurried over to the bucket. It was filled with wilted lettuce, root vegetables that looked somewhat like yams, something like celery, and had a copious helping of weeds and grass mixed in. Sharelos had evidently done a pretty haphazard job of harvesting it.

Still, eating that was better than ''not'' eating. They controlled their appetites long enough for them to carry the bucket up the ladder-steep stairway into the loft and sit among the loosely baled hay before they started picking out the edible bits. It was a rough meal but they desperately needed it and for a long while their only conversation consisted of the crunch and chew of vegetables. When they finally finished Maria lay back in the hay with a sigh. Lori noticed with some chagrin that they'd actually completely emptied the bucket of both the good quality and the bad; they'd really been hungry.

And now she felt even ''more'' bloated. Lori joined Maria in the hay, the sunlight too dim to do much of anything else. She kicked off her shoes and and unfastened her belt. Her heels had rubbed raw and her toes felt numb, she apparently needed the next size up for doing heavy work like this. Even her bra straps were chafing and she was momentarily amused by the thought that Bryce might well be having the same problem. Where had Jera come up with the notion of dressing him as a French maid? He definitely didn't have the figure for it, if nothing else.

The bra, at least, she could loosen. Unfortunately she doubted there were any good shoe stores nearby... at least, not for slaves like her. She shivered, fingering her collar. Until this moment she hadn't really had time to think about it at any length. She'd been too scared and disoriented during the sale after she'd been captured, during the ride here she'd been too busy listening to Jera ramble on about elves and trying not to let her truculence show too overtly, and then once they got to work in the barn the simple physical exertion had kept her mind pretty much blank.

She would never see her family again, she'd started working her way towards accepting that even when she'd been lying stunned on the floor back in the biological sciences building. TV, chocolate, the Internet - more things she'd probably never experience again but that she may well be able to get over in time. There might even be substitutes in this world. But being a ''slave''? It definitely wasn't her thing. There had to be some way out of this, some other place to flee to. She'd have to keep an ear open.

But after lying there thinking about it for interminable minutes and having nothing to show for it, she decided that she was officially way too tired to worry about anything right now. There would be time for that later. The soft snoring coming from where Maria lay suggested she felt likewise. Lori closed her eyes and eventually drifted off to sleep.

{{Separator|d|Part 5}}

Lori was first to wake this time, eyes snapping open to the distant sound of a cock crowing and flinching as the recollection of the previous day returned. She gave a quiet grunt and sat up, noting that she was still in the hayloft and it had all really happened. The sun was just barely starting to rise, the barn lit only by the pale pre-dawn glow of the sky. They must have only had a few hours of sleep.

Still, she felt reasonably rested. Her muscles weren't nearly as sore as they might have been, though she still felt bloated from the bad food and drink she'd had yesterday. Her nose also still felt swollen but at least it wasn't stuffed up any more. She rubbed her eyes, trying not to grind in more dirt than she removed, and scratched her itchy skin with a yawn.

Maria was evidently not sleeping very soundly and Lori's motion woke her up too. She groaned quietly and stretched in the hay before propping herself up on one elbow and blinking blearily. Lori chuckled and reached over to pick some bits of straw out of her long brown hair. It had somehow managed to avoid getting matted with sweat and tangles, something Lori's much shorter hair had had trouble with. "Good morning," she murmured.

Maria gave Lori a smile, though with a haunted edge to her expression. "We're still here."

"Yeah." Lori fingered her collar. It was not uncomfortably tight but it was snug enough that she could always feel it against her skin. She resisted the urge to rip at it in a futile attempt to get it off, though. She could see the token fastened on Maria's still glowing faintly in the dim light; there were probably all sorts of booby traps in them that she hadn't discovered yet.

The two got up and started preparing for whatever the day might hold, refastening bras and belts and slipping their shoes back on. They were still uncomfortably tight and Lori wondered if perhaps she was having a more generalized allergic reaction to something. Or was it a side effect of the token, bulking her up to deal with the hard work? She shook her head, in no mood to be pondering anything deeply. They were hungry again.

Soon they heard the barn door open and the clicking of hard-soled shoes across the flagstones they'd cleared the day before. Both of them tensed taking each other's hand in mutual reassurance as whoever it was came climbing up the heavy wooden ladder into the loft. They both sighed in relief when Bryce's lace-crowned head poked up over the edge. He certainly didn't seem happy to see them but for once the feeling was not mutual. ''Breakfast.'' Lori and Maria moved over to help him the rest of the way up. He was having shoe trouble too, the glossy black high-heels not ideal for the terrain, and was moving quite stiffly in the tight black corseted dress.

He was carrying another bucket of wilted garden greens, obviously rejects from the pantry. The girls dug in almost as singlemindedly as they had last night, though, leaving Bryce to stand awkwardly in silence until the edge had been taken off their hunger. Finally Lori had had enough to sate her and she stepped back, leaving Maria to finish off what was left. She and Bryce regarded each other.

Bryce adjusted his frilly white apron, still blushing in embarrassment but keeping his gaze firm this time; without Jera present this now felt like more of a meeting of equals. "I know you don't like me," he began, "and I certainly don't like you. But we're stuck here together and I think we should compare notes."

Lori snorted. "I'm not so sure it's a good idea to tell you anything we're up to, 'Bridgette.'"

Bryce grimaced angrily. "Okay, look. I'm not happy about any of this, I want out as much as you do. But I've been ''playing along,'' get it? I'm ''pretending'' to be all meek and compliant so that Mis- so that ''elf bitch'' will let her guard down around me!"

The outburst yanked Maria's attention up from the food and all three of them tensed, glancing around and waiting for a long moment to see if Jera's wrath would somehow be triggered. But she wasn't omniscient, it seemed, and they finally relaxed again.

"I'm sorry," Lori apologized, and found that she actually meant it. "I guess I just like having someone to blame for all this."

Bryce nodded. "Me too."

"Blame the elf who shot us," Maria interjected. They could all agree on that, at least.

"So, I don't have much time out here," Bryce continued quickly once the tension had died down. "Mistress Livremor is expecting me back and I'm probably already tardy. Near as I can figure, these elves have been picking up fads from pop culture they steal from Earth; that may explain why they've got a mix of classic Tolkien and ''this'' sort of thing." He tugged on the hem of his frilly black skirt. "Though really, I have no idea why she made me a maid rather than one of you two. I can barely move in this getup. You're lucky."

Lori snorted again. "We worked really hard yesterday."

Bryce gave a wry grin. "I can see that. But you have no idea how complicated all the rules and etiquette are that I'm having to pick up in there. It's like navigating a minefield. And doing it while wearing this outfit... You just have to shovel crap and move heavy things."

Lori grudgingly nodded, admitting that their work was at least simpler and less demeaning. Jera had probably been right about her suitability for the role of housemaid. Though demeaning outfit aside, she was still rather envious of Bryce's obvious access to hygiene. He was even smooth-shaven. Lori absently scratched her itchy leg and cocked her head slightly, noticing that Bryce had had a glowing silver token similar to the ones they'd received yesterday installed in his own collar's fastener. Peering closer revealed that its engraved symbol was different, though; a vertical line that split halfway up into a triangular brush. A stylized feather duster, she realized with amusement. "When did you get-"

"Bridgette!" Jera's distant call interrupted her.

Bryce instantly snatched up the empty bucket and hollered "coming, Mistress!" in reply. He glanced quickly back at the two of them with an apologetic expression and lowered his voice; "Gotta go. Talk again later I hope." Then he hurried over to the ladder and climbed back down it as fast as his high heels and dress would allow.

Lori went to the nearest window and looked outside, taking in as much of the surrounding countryside as she could in the early morning light. Maria joined her. She hobbled a little, obviously having developed sore feet yesterday as well. "What're you thinking?" She asked.

Lori shook her head. "I'm thinking we've been bought by a bit of a nut. I'm not sure playing along like that is such a good idea, but I guess better him than us..."

"We've got a lot of work to do ourselves," Maria reminded her. Lori sighed. Since they were at least for the moment magically trapped in the barn - she could feel her collar tingling unpleasantly even as she leaned close to the loft window without poking her head through - there really wasn't much else they ''could'' do, short of setting up an ambush or some other such extreme measure. Going that extreme didn't seem like a good idea yet considering how little they knew about their circumstances, so work it would probably be. But she'd see what she could do to shirk it, if only on principle...

Jera came out personally about half an hour later and summoned the two down out of the loft. They reluctantly climbed down and stood before her. She spent a moment just looking at them, examining them with a clinical gaze that annoyed Lori greatly. Finally she asked, "so, how are you girls feeling? Ready to get back to your task?"

Lori and Maria glanced at each other. "Actually, I'm having some trouble with my shoes," Lori complained. "We weren't exactly dressed for this sort of work when we got captured. Mistress," she added quickly, and Maria nodded in agreement.

Jera smiled her half-smile. "Take them off," she ordered. They didn't hesitate long, their heels were already getting rubbed sore again and their socks were already filthy. Jera then indicated the open barn door. "Throw them away."

This time Lori did hesitate; she'd been hoping to be provided with a pair of boots or some equivalent first. But Jera subtly readied her wand and Lori decided it was too early in the day to feel that bad. She took Maria's shoes as well and walked gingerly over to toss both pair outside, her socks providing little protection against any sharp objects she might stumble across. She hadn't had tetanus shots recently. Fortunately they'd already cleared the area she was walking through, there didn't seem to be anything the soles of her feet couldn't handle on their own.

"Now, are you having trouble with anything else?" Jera asked when Lori returned. Lori flushed bright red in anger; it seemed the elf was ''toying'' with her. But she shook her head, not wanting to lose any other articles of clothing. "Good. Now, resume what you started yesterday. I will set Bridgette to some chores and when I am sure she can handle them unsupervised I'll return to see how you're doing."

As if shoveling all this cow manure wasn't bad enough, now they had to do it in sock feet? Lori sighed in exasperation as soon as Jera had gone out of earshot. "I'm going to get those shoes. Is there a rake or a hoe I can use...?"

Maria shook her head. "Wait, maybe it's a test. Maybe she's going to bring us work boots or something when she comes back."

Lori had to admit that it sounded like something Jera might do. The two reluctantly resumed shoveling. They took great care not to step on anything harmful, taking to walking around on tip-toes to minimize the risk. Their toes started going numb but at least neither of them stumbled onto anything that hurt them.

The rest of their problems only seemed to be getting worse, however. Their work slowed as Lori felt her bra straps cutting into her back and her belt applying ever more pressure to her unsettled, bloated stomach. On top of all that she was developing a headache and a pain in her lower spine. From the pained expression and stiff movements she could tell Maria was having the same difficulties. Finally she couldn't take it any more. She tossed down her shovel with an inarticulate yell of frustration and stripped off her shirt, fumbling with her bra's snaps and almost losing her balance as she unfastened it. She'd just go without that too.

Lori closed her eyes for a moment and sighed in relief, nipples practically tingling from the release of pressure. When she opened them again Maria was staring at her chest with a surprised expression. Lori chuckled. "Whew. Sorry for the sudden toplessness, I just couldn't take..." She trailed off, looking down herself. Her breasts had definitely grown, perhaps an entire cup size larger than she was used to. She hefted them in her hands, feeling the increased weight more easily now that they hung free. But perhaps even stranger was the growth of her nipples. They were as thick and conical now, protruding a full inch out from puffy areolas. "The hell?" She pinched one lightly and winced at its sensitivity.

Maria started stripping too and Lori saw that she had the same developments. But she didn't stop there. She also undid her belt and pulled open the fly of her shorts, letting her lower abdomen bulge out of confinement. The soft bulge was even more bizarre tucked down there, looking very out of place on her otherwise fit physique. It had four small bumps protruding from it. "Oh... oh god, I need to sit down," Maria murmured and wavered unsteadily on her toes.

Lori hurried to support her before she fell, their enlarged breasts pressing firmly up against each other as she slung Maria's arm over her shoulders. The excess flesh rubbing against each other was very distracting but Lori tried to keep focused and helped guide her over to a stool. Her own pants felt extremely tight too, she hadn't tried undoing them yet but guessed she'd find a bulge under them much like Maria had. What ''else'' was happening to them? She pulled off one of her socks and was met with the biggest surprise yet.

Her toes had fused together until there were just two left on each foot, the merged toenails growing over the ends into thick masses that resembled a cloven hoof. No wonder they'd felt numb... The source of Lori's headache turned out to be two hard bumps on her scalp that were just starting to erupt into a pair of horns. Her backache, likewise, seemed to be due to the stub of a tail forming at the base of her spine. Her ears were longer, pointier, and definitely hairier than they should be, and her swollen nose was broader than could be explained by simple allergies. Once all the changes were put together out in the open it seemed pretty clear what was happening. By some bizarre elven magic they were starting to look a bit like cows.

"Ah, girls, I see you've made good progress this morning." Lori looked up from her toes to see that Jera had entered the barn again; she'd been too distracted to notice until now.

Maria actually whimpered in fear but Lori's gaze was venomous. "What are you ''doing'' to us?" She demanded.

Jera glared back. "I should think you would be more respectful by now. Address me properly or not at all." The staring contest held for a moment, Jera's hand steady on her wand, then Lori broke it off and decided on silence. There was no way she'd call Jera 'Mistress' right now.

Jera nodded, at least temporarily satisfied, and walked in to the barn. Lori hurriedly pulled her shirt back on, the fabric stretching tight over her chest and poking out over her enormously erect nipples but giving a slight modicum of decency. Jera glanced at her with obvious distaste. "Such plain clothing you people wear, you are really better off without. No matter. Bridgette is finally accomplishing her chores with some modicum of passable skill so I finally have some time to devote to you two. I haven't had much to spare since Sharelos went to town."

Lori's ears twitched and she tried not to let the unexpected physical reaction distract her from the information that had triggered it. Jera was apparently alone on the estate right now.

"It occurs to me," Jera continued, "that aside from my description of our elven civilization during the coach ride here I have provided you with very little information about what to expect for yourselves. Heh," she chuckled and walked toward them. "I only just realized as I came out here that I did not even know your names yet."

Lori gritted her teeth. "I'm Lor-" Jera cut her off with a wave of the wand, apparently not having intended her statement as a question.

"I decided on the way over," she told them. "You-" she pointed the wand to Maria- "are Annabell, and you-" she pointed to Lori- "are Bess."

Lori blinked in surprise. It was the final indignity. As Jera continued on to her next topic Lori surged to her feet and lunged for Jera's wand. Jera dodged with effortless elven grace and in an instant Lori realized she'd underestimated Jera's reflexes. But then at the last moment Jera seemed to change her mind and moved to allow Lori to grab the wand.

Lori fell past Jera and collapsed, completely paralyzed the instant she'd touched it. Maria leapt up and stumbled to her side. "Lori!" She grabbed Lori's shoulders and rolled her onto her back, checking for injuries.

"Ah ah," Jera chided, still holding her wand nonchalantly. "Bess."

Maria looked up at the elf with a moment of incomprehension mixed with her terror, but then realized what Jera meant. "Bess," she stammered, returning her attention to Lori. "Bess, are you okay?"

Lori couldn't answer, of course; she felt like she'd been hit with another stunbolt. She was reduced to fuming silently inside her own mind and hoping Maria wouldn't do anything as stupid as she'd just tried herself.

"This sort of uncouth nonsense is unfortunate," Jera told the paralyzed woman huffily. "I was just about to provide you with some answers to your questions out of the goodness of my own heart, but I suppose this demonstration was useful as an object lesson in its own right. Magic obeys only elves." She turned to Maria. "Do not worry about her, Annabell, she will recover. Now, do ''you'' have any questions? Ask properly."

Maria paused, thinking carefully before she spoke. "Mistress, why are we turning into cows?" Her voice cracked slightly on the last word.

"It makes you more suitable for working the land. You see, before we discovered your world we would enchant our farm animals to tend to the farms themselves, and so we keep up the tradition with our human slaves." She gave Maria her half-smile. "I suppose it's mostly a fashion these days. Technically, you aren't 'turning into a cow' as you so crudely put it. If I want a cow I will just buy a cow. No, you're developing into a Taurus, a common model of agricultural slave. You'll still seem mostly human for whatever that's worth to you." She patted her pocket. "The charms carrying the enchantment were cheap but you'll still make excellent groundskeepers."

''Cheap!'' Lori managed a snort despite her paralysis. She couldn't believe it.

Jera glanced down at Lori and sighed. "You are such a troublemaker. Well, so much for hands-on training, I don't have time to wait. You'll have to muddle on by yourselves. Both of you resume your cleaning work when Bess recovers. I should like this barn to be usable by tomorrow." She turned and headed back out the door. Jera had answered only one question but that answer was a doozy. What exactly did a 'Taurus' look like? Lori dreaded finding out.

Maria stayed kneeling next to Lori for a minute, cradling her head and sniffling quietly. Lori wished she could say something reassuring. Or at least ask her to move a bit, the naked large-nippled breasts hanging over Lori's head were a bit distracting. Finally Maria seemed to pull herself together a bit. "Lori, I'm sorry," she murmured. "I don't know what to do but I won't leave you."

Lori remembered what it had been like when their positions had been reversed, with Maria paralyzed and Lori refusing to leave her side, and was surprised by the trickle of a tear of her own down her cheek. She blinked rapidly to clear her vision.

Maria noticed Lori's tear and mistook it for distress. Her confusion over what to do was overwhelmed by a desperate need to do ''something'', and without further thought she leaned down to kiss Lori on the lips.

Lori blinked, startled but for the moment unable to react. Maria's kiss was long and tender, evidently with strong feeling behind it, and Lori found herself quite moved. She twitched her fingers slightly and realized the paralysis was already starting to wear off. If Maria would just hold on for a little while longer...

But she pulled away, suddenly awkward as she realized how presumptuous her impulsive act had been. "Sorry," she murmured again. But Lori managed to give her a hint of a smile and Maria smiled back, relaxing slightly.

She remained cradling Lori's head in her lap while full control slowly returned to Lori's muscles. The moment was actually very nice and Lori knew that once it was over they'd have terrible things to contend with again. She didn't rush to get up.

{{Separator|d|Part 6}}

Eventually, of course, reality's rude intrusion forced the issue. Lori's comfort eventually began to fail as a pain in her backside grew, and she realized to her chagrin that her tail was getting long enough to have a kink. With a quiet sigh she reached up and touched Maria's arm, alerting her to her impending movement, and then with Maria's assistance rose unsteadily to her feet. She shook her head and ran her fingers through her tangled hair, avoiding the budding horns above her temples. She wanted to take these changes as slowly as possible.

"Are you alright?" Maria asked quietly.

Lori nodded absently, reaching down the back of her pants to adjust the stub of her tail into a more comfortable position. It was impossible. Her pants were just too tight with the growing bulge of her lower abdomen contained within them, and she was loathe to undo them and let it just hang out in the open like Maria had done. "Frickin' tail," she groaned uncomfortably.

"Yeah, I know," Maria commiserated. The tip of hers was already poking out of one of the legs of her shorts, it must have been approaching a foot long by now. If Lori's was the same size... she concentrated on the kinked feeling for a moment and jumped slightly when she felt it twitch.

With a little effort and prodding from the outside she was able to thread it down one of her pant legs. The soft brush of hair growing on the end tickled against her skin. "I think we'll need to cut holes for these."

Maria agreed. For the next few minutes they worked in silence on getting their clothing back in order, poking crude tail holes with the tines of a pitchfork and threading their new appendages through them. Maria put her shirt back on, but she looked somewhat uncomfortable about it and Lori figured she knew why. Without a bra on underneath the fabric of her own shirt rubbed on her nipples when she moved in certain ways, a not entirely unpleasant sensation but making it impossible to ignore how large and erect the things had become.

"Okay," Maria broke the silence after they'd got as comfortable as they could under the circumstances. "What do we do now?"

Lori shook her head. "I don't know. I... I'm feeling kind of confused." The admission slipped out before she'd fully analyzed her mental state herself. What did she want? Part of her wanted to rage, part of her wanted to cry. Those urges she understood. Part of her wanted to further explore the changes to her own body and part of her was repelled by the concept. Those were also quite understandable. Part of her wanted to explore Maria's body instead, to touch her lips again and feel the firm curve of her hips pressed-

Lori shook her head again. That part she didn't understand and she didn't want to approach it too closely right now. So what did that leave? There was one other major urge lurking in her thoughts right now, she realized.

"Maybe we should get back to cleaning up?" Maria asked, indicating it was weighing on her mind too.

Everything Lori wanted was conflicted. She definitely didn't want to comply with Jera's wishes, but at the same time the work really had started to feel good in some bizarre way. Calming, almost. And calming was something she could really go for right now. She needed to keep her mind off of all the other things competing for her attention.

The two got back to their task and as Lori had sort of hoped it soon sucked them back in to that single-minded focus again. The major part of the job - the shoveling - was finally finished after just an hour or two more, after which they did a thorough sweeping of what was left and started pulling out some of the larger debris piled in a couple of the stalls in back. Planks of wood, masses of tangled rope and rusted chain, and what looked like parts of two or three different broken carts.

And throughout it all their bodies continued to change. Lori had just enough attention to spare to keep track of that.

{{external image
|text=Maria shows her changes
|url=http://something-wild.deviantart.com/art/cow-girl-3-93665316
|artist=something-wild
|artist-url=http://something-wild.deviantart.com/
}}

Their toes developed fully into cloven hooves, the shuffle of bare feet soon replaced with solid clopping on the flagstone floor. Their legs remained the same shape above the ankles but they sprouted a coat of short, dense hair from the knees down. A similar coat grew on their hips and lower back, spreading up until it just reached their ribs. Maria's new hair was brown, the same shade as her old hair, but Lori's was coming in white with large irregular black patches that were distributed all over her body. ''Like a Holstein,'' she recognized with embarrassment. Having an identifiable ''breed'' somehow made things seem even worse.

Their horns grew four inches long and their ears six, both sticking out from the sides of their heads. The pads of skin on the ends of their noses darkened and their nostrils broadened into cow-like snouts, though to their relief the rest of their faces remained essentially unchanged. Their ropy tails lengthened rapidly until the thick brush of hair at the ends almost reached the ground. They flicked reflexively, almost without conscious control, and Maria gave an occasional startled flinch when it brushed against her bare calves.

And their udders swelled, bulging out below their navels until even Lori had to bow to the inevitable and open her fly to let it out. The four teats sprouted from mere bumps to finger-length protrusions, gaining sensitivity to match their original nipples. Lori tried avoiding that part of her anatomy most of all but the way it bounced as she walked made it hard to ignore.

It was around mid-afternoon when the changes finally seemed to stabilize. Maria's breasts stopped at around C- or D-cup, large but not unmanageable, and while her udder would definitely get in the way of any pants she tried to wear it was a manageable D-cup as well... assuming that measure was actually applicable to udders. Lori's were both noticeably larger, but her breasts had started out larger to begin with so she assumed that had simply translated across.

Somewhat less significant, but still important, was the fact that they'd finally finished cleaning up the barn. The two were feeling emotionally and physically exhausted and they sat down together on their makeshift bench to recuperate, tails hanging restlessly in back and legs slightly splayed to give their udders room in front. For a while they just rested, leaning lightly against each other for support.

"Hey, your collar's stopped glowing," Maria suddenly observed. It was the first words either of them had spoken in quite a while and Lori's ears flicked in surprise at her voice's timbre; it was still feminine but it had dropped half an octave to a throatier tone.

"Yeah, yours too..." her own voice had also changed. She sighed; they even ''sounded'' a little cow-like now. "I guess the spell's run its course. So this is how a 'Taurus' looks."

Maria nodded, her expression haunted. "I... I guess it's not so bad..."

Lori snorted and her ears flicked again, this time in surprise at the increased snorting capacity of her snout. She reflexively licked the pad of leathery skin covering the end of her nose and flushed red with embarrassment. Her tongue had enlarged too, though fortunately not to as large a degree as her breasts. "I disagree," she mumbled once she'd regathered her wits.

"Sorry," Maria sighed. "I guess I was just thinking... I don't know." Tears welled and Lori realized she'd been struggling to put on a brave face. She silently kicked herself for her insensitivity and put an arm over Maria's shoulder, offering her own silent apology. Their horns poked awkwardly as Maria accepted it by snuggling in closer, resting her head against Lori.

Lori felt a pleasant tingle from Maria's closeness again, a warm sensation swelling in her gut. ''As if these new parts didn't feel strange enough already...'' She grumbled to herself in silent confusion.

They were interrupted by the sound of the house door opening and then approaching footsteps on the path outside, causing both to sit bolt upright again and turn their ears to catch any clue of their visitor's identity. The steps were slightly unsteady on the rough ground, not like Jera's graceful elven gait, so they both relaxed slightly even before the barn door pulled open.

Even though the black and white French maid's uniform was quite distinctive, both Lori and Maria did a double-take before they were sure of the identity of the person inside it. Bryce had also changed. His figure had pulled in dramatically at the waist and bulged at the chest and hips, his arms had slimmed, his legs become downright shapely in their fishnet stockings. His hair had lengthened and lightened in color and was now done up under the headpiece in - of course - a French braid. And his face was hardly recognizable, the features now clearly feminine and touched with a hint of makeup.

He, or perhaps now 'she', was carrying another bucket and blushing deeply. But when he saw Lori and Maria he did a double-take of his own, dropping the bucket in surprise and seeming to forget his own predicament for a moment. "Oh!"

Lori gave Bryce a rueful grin. "Come in, 'Bridgette.' I guess we've got stories to swap." Her stomach rumbled quietly at the thought of food but she figured she could hold off a bit under the circumstances.

Bryce's blush deepened. "Please, do not call me that," he asked as he walked over mincingly in his high heels. The pitch of his voice had raised a half octave, meeting theirs in the middle, and there was an odd cadence to his speech that Lori couldn't quite place at first. "It is bad enough that ze Mistress, uh, ''the'' Mistress, she calls me that all ze time..." He shook his head and paused for a moment, putting down the bucket again and rubbing his temples. "God, I can't keep my tongue straight. But what 'as 'appened to ''you''?"

"We're 'Tauruses' now," Maria explained morosely. "Or Tauri, maybe. We're supposed to be agricultural workers or something..."

Lori let Maria talk, too caught up for the moment in studying Bryce. He was actually developing a French ''accent.'' She noticed that his collar had changed appearance somewhat, becoming narrow and black, but the silver charm with the feather duster symbol was still in place on it and unlike their own was still glowing faintly. "Are you still changing?" She asked bluntly once Maria had finished her brief summary.

Bryce grimaced and ducked his head slightly, tugging nervously at the edges of his skirt. "Oui. Uh, yes, dammit." He sighed. "I... I am still turning into a woman, I can feel it. 'Ell, even zis clothing is changing, it becomes tighter all ze time. And worse..." He trailed off, too upset to continue.

"Worse?" Maria prompted.

Bryce shook his head. "I've just been playing along with ze Mistress, pretending to like doing ze things she asks, trying to follow all ze little silly rules... but now it is getting hard to stop." She closed her eyes and took a shaky breath, chest swelling noticeably in the cups of his bustier. "I can't ''stop'' playing along. Is it even playing along any more when I can't stop? Were... were you right about me, mon ami?"

After all that had happened to them Lori had not expected to be in a situation to give ''Bryce'' comfort, but with the way he was opening up and on the verge of breaking down she couldn't help but offer a spot on their makeshift bench. The maid sat down very carefully and with some distance between them - Lori decided not to take it personally, he had delicate petticoats to consider - and gave a few dainty sniffles. She waited for him to either recover his equilibrium or lose it completely.

"I'm sorry," he said at last. "I'm being selfish. You two are obviously in a bad way yourselves..." He sniffed one last time, rubbing the tears from his eyes and reflexively smoothing his dress and hair. "I must look a mess, am I presentable?"

The concern over his appearance was probably another part of 'playing along' that he was having trouble resisting, but Lori gave a quiet chuckle she hoped would be taken as supportive. "Quite. You didn't even smear your makeup."

"I 'ave makeup?" Bryce blinked in surprise. Lori grimaced, realizing that what she'd taken for lipstick and eye shadow were apparently just altered skin pigmentation. She supposed it was pretty minor compared to the big black splotches she'd developed on her own skin, but it would probably still come as a bit of a shock when Bryce finally encountered a mirror.

"I take it you were sent to bring us food again?" Maria asked, quickly changing the subject to something a bit closer to their own hearts.

Bryce's expression became almost comically alarmed. "Oh! Of course, ze Mistress' instructions!" Then he smiled briefly. "I suppose it's promising zat I can still have zat... that I can still have that slip my mind." Lori nodded encouragingly, though her own thoughts were turning more firmly to hunger as well and she mainly just wanted him to get on with it. "She had some other things too, but oui, ze food is pour vous. For you."

That was all the prompting they needed. They got to their hooves and crouched on either side of the bucket, digging in right there on the floor. It was even lower grade kitchen scraps this time, just stalks and leaves and peels from various vegetables, but Lori found that it didn't seem to matter. Her molars had broadened and her jaw muscles were stronger now, allowing her to grind the tough plant matter up just as well as regular food. And the taste was quite good, actually.

For a long while they ate intently and in silence, tails twitching back and forth without thought. Then, as they reached the bottom of the bucket, they discovered that hidden under the greens was a small loaf of freshly-baked bread. Lori blinked, flicking her ears and licking her nose in a moment of confusion. Then she remembered Bryce, turning to look quizzically in his direction. He was still sitting on the makeshift bench, watching them eat with a vaguely appalled expression. She couldn't believe she'd forgotten he was still there.

He jumped slightly at Lori's attention and wiped the expression from his face. "Um, a present," he mumbled bashfully. "My first attempt at baking zis morning. Ze Mistress, she say eet is no good. But she did not tell me how to dispose of eet, so I bring you some... a peace offering."

Lori was actually a little touched; Bryce must ''really'' be feeling out of sorts. "Thanks. You didn't have to do that." Though she was absolutely stuffed she was sure she could handle a bit more. Real human food would be most welcome after all that roughage.

But Maria picked up the loaf and sniffed it while Lori spoke, an expression of distaste flitting over her bovine features that she quickly managed to hide. "Lori, can we save this for later?" She suggested.

Lori nodded. "You're right, it'll make an excellent snack. Thanks again, Bryce."

Bryce smiled. Then he looked startled again, remembering something. "Oh, ze rest of ze Mistress' instructions!" He shook his head. "She cannot be here zis afternoon, she is out on business. She say zat once you 'ave finished cleaning ze barn, you may go outside."

"''May'' go out?" Lori asked with a snort.

Bryce nodded, repeating the words Jera had used if not the accent they'd been spoken in. Then, reluctantly, he climbed to his feet. "As for myself, I 'ave my own chores," he sighed. "I 'ave wasted enough time already... I hope I will be able to visit you again, and not just as Bridgette. Au revoir." He picked up the bucket and headed back toward the house again, his gait noticeably more feminine and steadier on his high heels than it had been even when he'd arrived not more than half an hour ago.

Lori shook her head after they'd watched him go. "That maid spell he's under seems even more extreme than our cow ones in some ways," she murmured. "At least in how it's affecting his behavior. These elves must have stolen some bad porn or something. I hope that thing on his collar wears out soon..."

"Lori, have some bread." Maria offered Lori the loaf, a serious tone in her deepened voice. Lori cocked her head, puzzled, but took the bread and raised it cautiously to her mouth.

It was still warm, the scent strong and as far as Lori could tell delicious. She had no idea why Jera had rejected it. But all the same, she found that she couldn't bring herself to take a bite. "Um..."

"Yeah, I got that too," Maria sighed. "It's not what we're supposed to eat."

That was a very disturbing feeling. Lori gritted her teeth - big, broad teeth intended for raw and fibrous plants, not for baked goods. "God damn it. I'll eat what I like." But she still just held the bread.

Maria smiled sympathetically. "Maybe later when we're hungry again. Bryce said we could go outside now, though, how about we try that?"

Lori nodded and set the loaf aside. They'd been trapped in the barn for almost a full day now, it would be a good change of scenery if nothing else. The two cow-girls went over to the door, approaching the threshold cautiously. Lori remembered well the terrible feeling she'd got when she'd tried passing here the day before... but this time there was only their own uneasiness and they poked their heads out without any outside influences moving to prevent them.

Lori and Maria stuck close together as they went out onto the overgrown lawn, their cloven hooves muffled by the sod. The Sun was still fairly high in the sky and it took a few minutes for their eyes to adjust after the relative shade of the barn's interior. The air was fresh and warm. The sense of freedom was almost overwhelming.

''What's the catch?'' Lori wondered suspiciously, running her fingertips through her tangled black hair and rubbing her scalp in thought. Her hand came up against the base of one of her horns and she grimaced, taking hold and giving it a frustrated jerk that did absolutely nothing to dislodge it from her skull. ''Aside from the cow thing, of course.'' She knew it couldn't be as simple as just wandering off.

One problem was that she had no idea what the lay of the land was. This was the first time she'd been anywhere in this world on her own recognizance. "Let's explore a bit," she suggested. Maria nodded, taking Lori's hand.

{{Separator|d|Part 7}}

The manor house's back yard was at the eastern corner of a large and roughly triangular open field, the rolling terrain bounded in the distance by hedgerow and forest. There was a large but weedy-looking garden patch with an ornate wooden fence around it, more decorative than a serious barrier, and several large sheds and other minor outbuildings that looked like they were dedicated to storage.

Really, what was to ''stop'' them from just wandering off? There wasn't a soul to be seen, elf or otherwise. Lori took the lead as they started off away from the barn and along the edge of the field.

Ironically enough, the field turned out to have been used most recently as a cow pasture. There were still strong traces of the scent in the air that they could identify despite the rather strong background odor they'd picked up for themselves from their work in the barn. Every once in a while one of them stepped in the remnants of an old cow pie hidden in the grass and Lori tried not to think of going bare-hoofed the same as going barefoot. It wasn't really the same.

"Ooh!" Maria's approving sigh came as they topped one of the taller rises and saw a small pond nestled in the hollow immediately beyond it. Lori trailed along as Maria picked up the pace, trying to keep up while minimizing the bouncing of breast and udder. Since hers were bigger she was at a bit of a disadvantage and released Maria's hand to let her go on ahead.

Maria's hooves squelched into the soft muddy soil at the water's edge and she paused for a moment to strip off her shirt. Lori blinked in surprise, huffing "What're you doing?" As she caught up.

Maria gave Lori a 'duh' look. "I'm hot, I'm sweaty, I've been cleaning a barn all day and I feel filthy. I'm going to wash." She tossed her shirt to Lori and then started wading into the water, moving slowly to keep her balance.

Lori was aghast. The pond was clearly just a large slough, from the old hoof prints churning up the shore the water must have had countless cattle polluting it over the years. But on the other hand... she looked down at her feet, noting how similar her own tracks in the mud were.

''I am not a cow,'' Lori reminded herself firmly. ''No matter what spells these fucking elves cast on me.'' "I don't think that water's safe," she called out to Maria.

Maria was up to her mid-thighs already. "No, it's fine," she called back, continuing to forge ahead. "The slope's gentle. Kind of slippery bottom, but-" She stepped in a slight depression, stumbling a few steps, then suddenly stiffened. "Oh God! Oh! Oh!"

"What? What?" Lori dropped Maria's shirt and immediately splashed a few yards out into the water, intent to rescue her friend from whatever terrible fate had befallen her. But she skidded to a stop when Maria turned back toward shore and she saw the look on her face. She was flushed red with embarrassment but also the verge of barely constrained laughter.

"S-sorry," she stammered. "Cold water... on my, uh, my udder."

Lori blinked. It was an absurd moment, even after all the insanity she'd been through over the past day. ''Just about twenty four hours since I was kidnapped,'' she realized. ''Less than half that in this condition. I can barely accept that it's happened yet. I don't ''want'' to accept that it's happened yet.''

Lori laced her fingers under her own udder where it protruded from the open front of her jeans, hefting it gently. "Thanks for the warning," she answered with a wry grin. Maria grinned back and then resumed wading deeper.

Lori's grin faded away, uncertain how to proceed. She was standing in water up to her knees, which meant her jeans were already soaked and wicking more moisture upward by the second. She waded back to shore and moved to a patch of reasonably dry grass. Getting her pants off to was a bit of a struggle on account of having to de-thread her tail through the back while balancing on hooves, but she managed it reasonably quickly and spread them out to dry.

Maria had reached the middle of the pond where the water was up to mid-chest, her breasts bobbing slightly as she moved. She seemed to be enjoying herself and Lori really did feel hot and filthy from all that work they'd done... The water couldn't be more contaminated than what they'd just spent all morning shoveling out of the barn, could it?

She realized there was no way she was going to be able to sort out her confused feelings right now, so she might as well just go ahead and act on them. She added her own shirt to the pile and, clad only in her panties and collar, headed down to join Maria.

The water was indeed cold, causing her already ludicrously large nipples to go 'spung' the moment her lower teats dipped in. She was more prepared than Maria had been so she just gave a little gasp and forged onward. It was nice to get the caked grime and sweat off, she had to admit, and the water wasn't so bad now that she was in it.

Maria had crouched down to wash her neck and she stood back up when Lori reached her, the water sluicing down off her breasts in a glistening display that was oddly captivating. Lori found herself flushed and feeling warmer than she should have at that temperature. She averted her gaze, ears flicking awkwardly, and started rubbing the water on her arms to get cleaned off more quickly.

"Would you like me to do your back?" Maria asked softly.

Lori's heart skipped a beat. She was so confused now she didn't trust herself to speak, her altered body sending her all manner of feelings and desires like she hadn't felt before. She wanted to deny them all but some of them were so strong... She nodded hesitantly.

Maria moved behind her and gently ran her hands up Lori's spine, the touch of the cold water sending a shiver through Lori's body and setting all six of her nipples throbbing. She worked slowly, massaging as much as cleaning, and Lori tried to allow it to be relaxing. Maria leaned closer, the warm breath on the back of Lori's neck dispelling some of the chill. It was working.

"Did you know you've got a spot shaped almost exactly like the British Isles back here?" Maria asked.

Lori blinked, having actually forgotten about the patchy Holstein coloration her skin had developed. It broke the moment. She pulled away with a small gasp, though the sloshing muddy water preventing her from getting far, and turned to face Maria.

There was a look of confusion on Maria's face almost as strong as Lori's own. "I'm sorry, did I do something wrong?"

Lori shook her head. "No, I-" she broke off, considering her response carefully. Maria's expression was mixed with both longing and concern and Lori's heart was aching at the sight. "I liked it. I like ''you''. I'm just confused. I don't like what these elves have done to us and I don't know which of my feelings are really real."

"What do you mean?"

Lori didn't think Maria was being deliberately obtuse but it surprised her all the same. "I mean, uh, this feeling between us... this attraction. I feel it, I'm sure you can tell. But I'm not sure where it's coming from."

Now it was Maria's turn to be surprised. "You weren't queer? I mean, back at university, before?"

"I... I don't think I was," Lori answered awkwardly.

Maria smiled, equally awkward. "I'm sorry, all this time I was getting those vibes, and I kind of always thought... maybe if... I didn't want to say anything. But now, stuck like this, I didn't want to be alone."

The two stood facing each other in the chest-deep water for a moment, the silence stretching as Lori's mind whirled and her heart pounded. ''I've been kidnapped by elves, dammit,'' she thought plaintively. ''After everything else that's happened why is ''this'' throwing me so badly?''

''Maybe because this is about who and what I really am,'' she answered herself.

Slave. Cow-girl. Lesbian. Which of those were real? Lori actually felt like her knees were about to give out, and Maria must have picked up on that because she moved forward to catch her before they did. Lori didn't pull away this time and they stood for a long moment in an embrace, holding each other with their breasts and udders pressing together warmly in the cold water.

"How do you feel?" Maria asked at last.

Lori looked searchingly at Maria's face, the bovine nose not making her any less attractive. ''This shouldn't be romantic,'' part of her thought giddily. But the fire in her belly said otherwise and she found herself leaning forward. Maria met her in a kiss. It was tentative at first but soon grew passionate, their tongues probing each others' lips and their hands moving more intimately over each others' bodies. Maria's fingertips slid down the side of Lori's thigh and under her panties to rub lightly over her labia, stoking the fire hotter and setting Lori throbbing with desire. "Ooh," Lori moaned deep in the back of her throat. "That's good..."

The two spent a while out there in the water exploring each other further. Lori was still a little uncertain of herself, though, and so they didn't keep at it long before Maria reluctantly eased off. They were both left hot and flustered despite the Sun starting to get a little low in the sky.

"Okay," Maria finally asked, "So what do we do about this now?"

Lori shook her head. "No fucking clue. I suppose we should get out of the water at some point..." She grimaced at a sudden realization and an even brighter flush reddened her face. "I've lost my panties in here somewhere."

Maria couldn't help but chuckle. The muddy bottom had been thoroughly churned up and if they weren't floating now there was no chance of finding them. "Come on out anyway, I promise not to look."

Her shyness was silly, Lori readily admitted to herself, but even after all that had happened to her there was a difference between walking around in her panties and walking around ''completely'' nude. Well, aside from her collar... Lori trudged determinedly to shore, trying not to think about it. She and Maria stood air-drying for a few minutes in what was left of the sunlight before they slipped back into the clothing they'd left on the shore.

They were relatively clean and felt energized. Lori looked out at the hedgerow marking the far boundary of the field, where they'd been heading before getting a little sidetracked - Lori snorted at the private understatement - and considered heading onward with Maria. Perhaps something would stop them, but perhaps not; she was in the mood for testing boundaries now.

But there was a competing urge welling up as dusk approached, one she had less of an explanation for. She swished her tail restlessly at the internal conflict. "We should be getting back to the barn now," Maria finally gave the urge voice.

This was definitely the cow part of her talking, Lori realized, no question. She could recall Jera mentioning that elves enchanted their farm animals to care for themselves, and they seemed to have inherited more than just the appearance. "I don't know if we should."

Maria smiled wryly. "What, become wild cattle? I don't think I have that in me. I..."

"We're ''people'', Maria," Lori insisted. "We're not cows. This is just some spell, we'll figure out some way to break it. We don't have to do what Mistress Livremor wants."

Maria shook her head sadly. "I was paying attention in the coach too, Lori. I still don't know much about how elf magic works, don't know if I ever will, but she said that in this world enchantments can't be broken. If that's true... Maybe you should start calling me Annabell."

After feeling so good just so short a while ago it was a hard thought to have to grapple with. "We're not stuck like this forever," Lori insisted.

"Well... I guess she could have been lying." But Lori could tell from Maria's wistful sigh that she didn't really believe that. For Lori's part she was having a hard time putting herself in that mindset even hypothetically; there ''had'' to be some way out. She couldn't imagine thinking about what to do if this was forever.

With an uncomfortable silence between them now they both decided it was time to get moving, so they started off together away from the slough. It was only after they'd walked most of the way there that Lori realized she'd turned back toward the barn without a thought. For a moment she considered turning around again right then and there, stalking off into the night regardless of the consequences, but she was starting to feel a bit tired.

''Tomorrow,'' she promised herself. ''I'll look for a way out tomorrow.''

{{Separator|d|Part 8}}

The cock's insistent crowing was loud in Lori's enlarged ears, dragging her awake without the help of an adrenaline surge this time. She sat up ponderously in her hay-pile bed, yawning and stretching with a groan.

''Still a cow-girl.'' She couldn't really think of a good reaction to that any more. What was she supposed to do, wake up every morning screaming? Instead she just scratched the hairy hide on her hip and flicked the tip of her tail.

The soft clunking of hoof on wood elsewhere in the loft indicated that Maria was already up and about. Lori climbed to her own hooves and carefully slipped on her pants and shirt, wincing slightly at the sensitivity of her breasts and udder. They felt swollen, even compared to their 'normal' large size. She hoped she hadn't slept on them wrong or picked up some infection.

Lori found Maria at the far end of the loft, hefting bales of hay and moving them from one pile to another. She seemed pretty intent on the task and Lori was impressed with the strength she was putting into it. "Hey, how are you doing? And what are you doing?"

Maria looked up from her current bale and smiled in greeting. "Oh, good morning. I, uh, just felt like getting to work right away..."

Lori shook her head. There wasn't much tidying left to be done in the barn any more, rearranging the bales didn't seem particularly urgent or purposeful. But on the other hand, it did seem to be a good way to get the blood flowing after waking up. She helped Maria shift a few.

They hadn't spoken much after they'd got back the previous night. Nobody had been in the barn, though another bucket of fodder had been left for them - Jera had evidently been quite confident of their return. They had eaten their meal, rinsed themselves and their clothes as best they could with water from the rain barrel, and then had gone to bed in the loft much as they had the night before. This time Lori had spent a lot longer lying awake, though, gazing over at her companion already asleep in the hay beside her.

In hindsight she wondered if she had seen any signs that Maria was gay. Hell, she wondered if she had seen any signs about her own orientation. She probably had, but had just misinterpreted them without giving them enough thought. But at least there was the strange comfort that this wasn't the biggest change she was having to deal with right now.

Lori dropped the last bale into place in the reorganized pile with a grunt and took a moment to survey their work. "We need aprons," she suddenly announced.

"Eh?" Maria paused, shaking her head and brushing at her horns to get a snagged tuft of hay off. "Why?"

She gestured at her bulging udder. "I'm ''ticklish'', okay?" ''And tender,'' she added silently.

Maria actually gave a deep-throated chuckle at the comment. A moment later, though, their ears twitched in unison and they were interrupted by the sound of the barn door being pushed open. Then they both sighed in relief at the click of high-heeled shoes on flagstone. Those shoes meant Bryce, which meant breakfast. The two quit what they were doing and climbed down the ladder to meet him halfway.

Meet ''her'' halfway. The charm on her collar - now a black satin choker with white lace edging - was no longer glowing, having evidently finished its magical work. Her face was unrecognizable now, features fully feminine and enhanced with 'makeup.' Her figure looked almost painful, waist held in snug by the bustier and breasts pushed up close to the size of their own. Lori noted with a twinge of irony that she actually did have a frilly white apron as part of her uniform, but decided she definitely didn't want one like that.

She wasn't carrying anything else with her this time. The two girls clopped to a puzzled halt. Bryce sighed, keeping her embarrassed gaze cast down at their hooves. "Bonjour," she lilted sweetly, "ah am sorry, ah 'ave no food pour vous zis morning."

The combination of her voice's altered tone and heavy accent made it hard to tell what her attitude really was and Lori swallowed nervously. "Um, Bryce?" She asked. "Or Bridgette...?"

The maid smiled, seemingly a vacuous expression but with a definite haunted look to her eyes. "Ah am still in 'ere," she murmured quietly. "But zis magic, zis charm..." she fingered her choker. "Eet is like she ees in my 'ead, you know? Ah try to say somezing, or ah try to do somezing, but eet is Bridgét who says and does..." She trailed off with a sigh, then shook her head. "Ah cannot believe eet has come to zis, my life. But ah must live, non?"

"Yeah, I know what you mean..." Lori nodded, relieved at least that 'Bridgette' was still only just a shell over the real Bryce. She had come to realize that their earlier antagonism had really been quite petty and she regretted it. She still didn't necessarily ''like'' Bryce, though... ''Heh. He's turned into a woman and he's still not my type.'' It was a strange reassurance in a way.

"Are you bringing orders from Mistress Livremor, then?" Maria asked.

Bryce nodded. "Oui. She say zat zis morning, you will go to ze garden and tend to ze plants yourselves. She say zat ah must prepare ze casserole, I need to 'ave fresh carrot, caulifleur..." She rattled off a short list of vegetables and the two of them nodded at each.

"Where is she right now?" Lori asked when Bryce was done.

"She ees going to teach me ze casserole she likes. Ze Mistress, she ees very hands-on. And ze magic charm, eets training only goes so far..." A rueful grin tugged at Bryce's pouting ruby-red lips. "Ah 'ave not even gained ze true Français, just a few random words and zis stupid accent."

Lori shook her head, tail lashing angrily. "We're ''fashionable'' slaves. It doesn't have to make sense or be practical."

"Oui. Ze Mistress, ah think she is trés vain. Ah do not think she ees as wealthy as she likes, and so she ees putting on ze airs..." Bryce sighed. "And ah must return to her now and play along. Ah will try to learn. Au revoir, mon vache."

Bryce parted their company, heading back to the house. They gathered up a few gardening tools from around the barn that they hoped would be useful - Lori found something resembling a small plough with a human-sized yoke and hoped it wasn't intended to be used by them at some point - and made their way out as well, heading for the garden patch.

Neither of them had much experience with this sort of thing but fortunately their task looked quite straightforward. The garden was overgrown but had apparently been well planted before it fell to neglect, the vegetables they were after were all there in abundance. They pulled a few of each, setting them aside on a sheet of burlap. The vegetables themselves were off limits just like the bread had been, Lori could tell that without even trying to eat any this time, so the girls were forced to satisfy their own hunger by browsing on some of the more succulent weeds as they went.

And without having to be zapped by her collar, either... Lori rubbed the thick leather band absently while she chewed. It hadn't zapped her since they'd finished changing, now that she thought of it. She'd just somehow ''known'' what was 'wrong', and that doing the wrong thing just felt bad. It was like the magic had moved inside her head too.

"Annabell! Bess!" Jera's distant call snapped Lori out of her uncomfortable train of thought. The two hurriedly picked up the corners of the burlap and carried their haul to the house. Lori felt a strange sense of foreboding as she and Maria got close, their hoofsteps faltering as they arrived at the back porch.

Despite Jera's summons going inside the house felt ''very'' wrong. Lori reached for the door handle experimentally. ''Dirty!'' The thought made her pull her hand back and she frowned in confusion. ''Dirty? It looks clean to me... oh.''

''She'' was dirty. And she realized that no amount of washing would change that feeling. It was just not appropriate for a farm animal to go inside an elf dwelling.

Jera opened the door and stepped outside. "Ah, there you are. I wondered what was keeping you. Bridgette!" Bryce stepped out to join her, giving an obsequious little curtsy. "Take these vegetables inside and prepare what you need, I'll be back to the kitchen shortly." Bryce curtsied again and took the burlap from Lori's hand, giving her a secretive little nod of thanks that Lori barely registered.

"You two, go put down some fresh straw in one of the stalls," Jera told them. "Make sure it's done by noon. I will be coming to inspect and instruct after lunch." Then she was gone too, leaving Lori to silently fume.

Maria put her hand on Lori's shoulder and gave her a supportive squeeze, then nudged her to come along with her back toward the barn.

"I am not a cow." Lori spoke through gritted teeth, the comment aimed at nobody in particular.

"I know." Maria's soft-spoken response seemed to Lori to be meant as just a platitude, and her anger only grew. Was Maria just ''accepting'' this? It had only been a day!

But Lori found she couldn't keep her anger up for long, and certainly not at Maria. She finally yielded to Maria's nudge and the two of them walked back to the barn. It seemed that this would be their living space for the foreseeable future now.

"Even Brittney Spears never had to put up with this..." Lori sighed.

Maria blinked. "Wha?"

"On that show you liked, 'The Simple Life'"

Maria shook her head. "She wasn't on that, it was Paris Hilton."

"Oh." Lori flicked her tail, thinking for a moment. "Okay, maybe ''she's'' woken up in a barn with her boobs hanging out before." Maria chuckled and even Lori felt a little better; even in her current state she could still look down on Paris Hilton.

The two got to work, hauling down a couple of bales of straw and spreading them on the floor in the two stalls farthest to the back. The padding muffled their hooves nicely but didn't otherwise make the stalls seem very comfortable or 'homey.' "I hope Mistress Livremor isn't thinking of banning us from the loft," Maria mused, obviously thinking along the same lines.

Lori snorted. "We can't go in a real house, so for now ''this'' is our house. We'll sleep in the loft if we want." It wasn't exactly the most ambitious line to draw in the sand but Lori was willing to set her sights a bit lower right now.

Maria nodded. "Still, let's go get some rest while we can. Be a shame to have rearranged it this morning for nothing."

Lori followed Maria up the ladder, curious about what she meant. When she took a second look at the bales of hay that she'd helped Maria stack that morning, though, she chuckled. She hadn't noticed how Maria had been laying out walls into a sort of crude apartment. "Hey, nice idea."

"Thanks." Maria sat down on the other side of one of the bales and stripped off her shirt with a relieved sigh. "I thought we could use the privacy." She lightly massaged her breasts.

Lori's ears flicked back in surprise and she was momentarily unsettled. But Maria's ginger touch didn't seem intended as sexy or inviting and Lori realized she must be having the same tenderness issues that she was. "After what happened yesterday in the pond I'm not sure privacy is really a major concern..."

Maria smiled. "I don't want to rush you into anything. I know that might have been just an impulsive moment..."

"No, I'm okay." Lori pulled off her own shirt and sighed too. "And if nothing else, I've been in plenty of locker rooms." She sat down and tried to relax, her enlarged nipples throbbing but feeling a little better now that they were out from under the constraint of her shirt. She closed her eyes and leaned back, waited for the throbbing to subside.

Maria gave a quiet moan. Lori tried to ignore it, not wanting to intrude. But after a few minutes Maria moaned again, more loudly this time, and then a third time. Lori lifted her head and opened her eyes, turning slightly to glance over at Maria. "Maoooh-" Lori clapped her hand to her mouth, stifling a moan of her own.

It startled Maria too, or at least its sudden cut-off did. "Lori?"

Lori lifted her hand and spoke very carefully, keeping her voice under control. "You were mooing."

Maria snorted incredulously. "I was just-"

"Moaah!" Lori clapped her hand back in place, the interruption having welled up without warning from somewhere deep in her gut. Her face flushed bright red. ''This is new, dammit. But we finished changing already!''

Maria paused, and then resumed speaking with deliberation. "My breasts feel swollen. My udder, too. I feel full. I think..." She trailed off, not wanting to state the obvious idea out loud. Then she let out another loud moan and flinched, realizing for the first time that she had no control over making the sound.

Lori kept one hand firmly over her mouth and used the other to grip one of her lower teats. ''Stay calm, girl,'' she thought to herself. ''Now, how does this work?'' She squeezed gently, trying to find the right motion. It felt good, at least. It felt-

A squirt of white fluid shot out of the tip and sprayed on the wooden floor. "Mmph!" She barely stifled the startled exclamation, even though she'd been expecting it. ''Wrong! Wrong! This is wrong! Mustn't spill!'' She yanked her hand away and scrambled to her hooves, breasts and udder bouncing almost painfully from the extra weight that had accumulated in them since yesterday. "I'm not a cow, I'm ''not!''"

Lori glaring around the loft for a moment as if challenging the universe to an argument. Then the response came from her own mouth in the form of another moo, as unstoppable as a hiccup. She clamped her mouth shut.

"We're lactating. We need to be milked, Lori," Maria spoke quietly and with infuriating resignation from where she sat. "We filled up overnight. That must be what this lowing is about. A signal that we're ready."

Lori shook her head, refusing to believe it. ''No way is Jera milking us. That elf wouldn't get her oh-so-elegant hands dirty with something like that, anyway. Which means...'' Lori's ears pinned back and she bared her teeth. ''No way is ''Bryce'' milking me!'' She'd forgiven him for getting them caught, more or less, considering how bad his own situation had wound up. And there was no way she'd be making fun of his new accent now. But she still didn't like him - her - particularly much and the image of the maid working her teats was too much. "Mustn't spill. Damn that charm, mustn't spill... we need a pail. Maybe we can do this ourselvesmmm." She barely stopped herself from lowing again, though the sensation of doing so was as unpleasant as stifling a sneeze.

Maria got up and helped her search but to Lori's amazement despite all the junk that had been in the barn she didn't find anything that felt suitable. None of the potential containers were hygenic enough, large enough, or otherwise able to satisfy the magic compulsion lurking in the back of her brain that required her to make sure her milk didn't go to waste.

Lori kept herself muffled but Maria let herself moo freely, settling in to a frequency of about thirty seconds to a minute between each. It grated on her nerves. Finally, though, her big bovine ears picked up a different sound; a distant heavy clop of horse's hooves on the dirt road and the creaking rumble of wagon wheels. She and Maria halted their hunt and listened as it stopped for a minute out by the house. Then a smaller set of hooves started clopping closer. They stopped again just outside.

The door opened to reveal Jera Livremor. Lori tensed, reflexively pawing at the ground and snorting, and Maria put a worried hand on Lori's arm to keep her from doing anything rash.

"Good afternoon, girls!" Jera called out cheerfully as she entered. "I have brought your new charge, the start of a new herd for this farm. Her name is Clara. I hope you've prepared that stall for her."

She was followed obediently through the door by an ordinary young calf. It was still gangly and wobbly on its legs, clearly only a matter of days old. This was not at all what Lori had been expecting and in that brief moment of confusion she let her guard down, the moo she'd been holding in slipping free.

The calf perked up at the sound and began to advance toward her, giving an eager bleat of its own. Lori found herself retreating from a horror she couldn't have imagined just days ago. Jera actually let out a laugh at the scene. "Oh, don't tease the little dear, Bess! She had a long and hungry ride over here."

Maria took a deep breath. "Moooaaah!" The calf halted, turning toward her instead.

Lori halted too, locking gazes with Maria. She looked determined, and Lori realized that she'd let out that diversionary moo deliberately. Was she trying to protect her? "Maria..."

Maria shook her head. "Annabell," she murmured back. The calf nuzzled up to Maria's udder and she closed her eyes for a moment, wincing. But then the calf took her teat and began to nurse, and her expression changed to one of relief bordering on ecstasy. "Mmmooh, I needed that," she sighed.

Lori couldn't take the sight and turned, fleeing back up into the loft. The bouncing of her udder was quite uncomfortable by this point, all the moreso now that she knew there was relief for her condition waiting just downstairs. It was an unacceptable relief. Sure, perhaps she needed it right now, and she could perhaps handle it as a one-time thing. But would she be full again the next morning? And the morning after that? And...

''I am not a cow!'' She grabbed her shirt from where she'd left it and gingerly tried slipping it back on, but her swollen nipples were just too sensitive now. Not to mention the quiet, insistent feeling in the back of her mind that she really should leave them exposed for ease of access... Lori let out a deep, moaning moo, and hurled her shirt angrily into the corner. "Fine, yoou want me naked? Fine!" She stripped off her jeans too, leaving her with just the collar. She grabbed it and started trying to pull it open, but although there was no warning zap this time she knew with sick certainty that there was no way it was going to come off. It represented the elf magic that bound her, that was now fully a part of her.

It was some time before Maria eventually climbed up into the loft too, approaching as gently as she could on cloven hooves. Lori was sitting on a straw bale and didn't speak, jaw clamped tightly shut to stifle her lowing, but Maria had recovered from her need and spoke softly. "Um... are you mad at me?"

Lori met her gaze. Maria hadn't been afraid down below with that ravenous calf bearing down at her, but now she was clearly frightened. Tears were on her cheeks not from the humiliation she'd just experienced but from fear of what Lori thought of her for it. Lori shook her head.

Maria smiled, looking as relieved as she'd been when that calf had started draining her. "Thank god. I swear, I didn't want to go first, but you looked so scared... I promise, it wasn't bad. Clara was eager but very well behaved. She should be a little less enthusiastic now, too."

Lori cocked her head, puzzled. "Mmroo?"

Maria glanced over to the ladder leading down. "For your turn. Taurids aren't as big as real cows, Clara's still hungry and I'm tapped out." The calf sent a plaintive moo of its own up from below, as if in confirmation.

Lori stood up, wincing at the heavy bounce of her swollen mammaries. "Nnoo!"

"Please, Bess!"

Lori froze and stared at Maria again. She was smiling earnestly, but was there something more to her expression? ''Jera sent her up,'' she realized.

Maria gave a small nod, the fear back in her eyes again. "Mistress Livremor wants me to bring you back down," she spoke quietly. "S-she gave me these..." Maria held up a set of fine silver manacles she'd been keeping tucked discreetly out of sight. "I don't want to use them, I don't want you to be mad. But it wasn't so bad, and we have to accept..."

"Moaaah," Lori lowed, then shook her head and tried again. "Moooah..." She gritted her teeth. She needed to be milked so badly now that she couldn't even get Maria's name out without mooing.

"She said she'd send Bridgette up if I didn't," Maria added tearfully.

That did it. There was no way Lori was going to let Bryce chain her up. But Maria, at least, she trusted. And there was no escaping her need to be milked, not any more. She reluctantly held out her hands.

"Behind your back," Maria specified. Lori flushed and embarrassed red and turned around, complying. The silver cuffs clicked into place and Lori thought she felt a tingle, but shook her head. Considering all it had done to her already there was little to fear from additional elf magic.

The two descended back down to the main floor, Maria holding Lori steady as she went down the ladder without free hands. Jera and Clara were waiting. Clara had been moved to the stall they'd prepared for her, and Jera stood impatiently just outside. "Finally, Bess. I swear, you are such a disobedient one. But I see you finally got rid of the rest of that horrid clothing, good girl."

She gestured for her to come over and enter the stall. Lori grudgingly did, feeling like she was walking the last mile. When she got there Jera hooked a short chain to her collar, pulling it around behind her to fasten her to the stall's wall. "There. Now you'll take your turn, and like it. Clara's very young, you know, they're cheapest when they're fresh from the mother like that."

The calf nosed around Lori's udder and she tensed at the lips mouthing at her teats. ''Just... just pretend...'' She thought desperately, trying to come up with some less humiliating scenario to console herself with.

Clara latched on and began to suckle, milk draining from Lori's strained glands and tears trickling from her eyes. Maria stood pensively just outside the stall and tried to meet her gaze again to offer what comfort she could.

{{external image
|text=Lori feeding Clara
|url=http://something-wild.deviantart.com/art/Cow-girl-93175107
|artist=something-wild
|artist-url=http://something-wild.deviantart.com/
}}

''No. I'm not a cow,'' she grimaced. Maybe Maria was right. Maybe playing along might make things easier for now. But there had to be some way out of this eventually. And until then...

Clara was insatiable but perhaps that was for the best. It took her at least fifteen minutes to empty Lori's udder. Lori kept her eyes shut for most of it, trying to ride out the experience without paying it any more attention. But when she was done she could still feel a moo lodged at the back of her throat waiting to come out, and her regular human breasts still felt just as tight as her udder had. "Lean forward a bit," Maria urged. "Clara can't reach."

Lori shook her head silently, tears streaming down her cheeks. The chain wasn't nearly long enough and she couldn't take any more of this. But then Maria's soft touch on her shoulder pulled her back from the brink of despair. Maria had clearly seen Lori's problem and gave her a nervous smile. "Mistress is out of the barn right now," she spoke quietly. "Don't know when she'll be back to fix this chain. Let me help." She leaned tentatively closer.

Lori guessed what she meant to do and held still in quiet acceptance, though she found her heart racing and she had no idea what she'd think of it once this overriding need was passed. Maria took one of Lori's engorged nipples into her own mouth and started massaging its length with her tongue, sucking gently to get her milk flowing.

A small sigh escaped Lori's throat. This was quite different from Clara's mindless urgency, a more tender ministration that Lori had to admit actually felt quite good. Maria swallowed each mouthful she drew out, careful not to spill a drop. A corner of Lori's mind wondered why this wasn't considered forbidden 'elf food' like the bread or vegetables had been, but it was a very small corner; the rest of her mind was too busy feeling various flavors of pleasure and relief.

Eventually Maria switched breasts, and then some time later finished the second one too. Lori sighed again as Maria pulled away, her nipple slipping from the warmth of her mouth. "Thank you," she murmured. Maria smiled and just kissed Lori in response. Lori kissed back. The sweet taste on Maria's lips was from her own milk, she realized, but she found herself remarkably undisturbed by that.

A plaintive high-pitched moo from Clara interrupted their kiss by actually managing to trigger a small laugh. "Maybe she's feeling cheated?" Maria mused.

Lori shook her head. "Jera's fault, this short chain-" Maria cut her off by resuming their kiss.

Still chained up and with her hands bound behind her back Lori was unable to resist. Maybe she'd never learn to accept all aspects of her situation. But right now Lori found that she didn't mind this particular one.

{{Separator|d|End}}

{{author's note|This story was written partly as a birthday gift for a friend of mine, and partly to prove that guys can so write lesbian erotica (rather than just porn). It was inspired by a pair of drawings by an artist named Baltymora, whom I can't seem to find on the Internet now.}}

[[Category:Martin Divo]]
[[Category:Bovine]]
[[Category:Story]]

User talk:Martin Divo

2009-06-09T06:59:55Z

Martin Divo:

Welcome Aboard! --[[User:JonBuck|Buck]] 23:43, 17 September 2007 (EDT)

:Thanks. Not much to post yet, but it's nice to have an outlet if more stories arise. :) [[User:Martin Divo|Martin Divo]] 02:01, 18 September 2007 (EDT)

==Template:My stories==

Hi, just thought I should drop a note here since I imagine most authors won't be regularly checking [[Help:Templates]] for updates. I've finally added a template that I should have created long ago, a tag to put on userpages to facilitate linking to your personal story category; [[Template:My stories]]. If you want (it's entirely optional), just stick this code at the top of your userpage to create a standardized little box with a direct link in it: <nowiki>{{my stories}}</nowiki>. [[User:Bryan|Bryan]] 22:33, 18 January 2008 (EST)

==Post Size==
If you have anything that is going to be much larger than "Seas of the Moon" please split it into two smaller parts. When Bard first uploaded "Mythic Journeys" we had problems with the page timing out for most people. Since then we have asked that any page larger than 120-130 kilobytes be split into two or more pieces to help alleviate that potential problem. In other news, welcome to the ranks of authors on Shifti. -- [[User:ShadowWolf|ShadowWolf]] 15:00, 7 June 2009 (UTC)

:Will do. I've got one or two incomplete stories up around that size but that seems to be about my upper limit right now. :) [[User:Martin Divo|Martin Divo]] 06:59, 9 June 2009 (UTC)

Talk:Livremor Estate

2009-06-09T06:59:00Z

Martin Divo: Those are the ones, thanks!

You might want these:

http://something-wild.deviantart.com/art/cow-girl-3-93665316

and

http://something-wild.deviantart.com/art/Cow-girl-93175107

:Yes, those are exactly the ones. Thanks for digging those up, I'll at least be able to include external links now. :) [[User:Martin Divo|Martin Divo]] 06:59, 9 June 2009 (UTC)

Caught in a Bind

2009-06-07T02:31:14Z

Martin Divo: always seem to forget one category. Adding Category:Martin Divo

{{XXX}}
{{title
|name= Caught in a Bind
|author=Martin Divo
|user=Martin Divo}}

I awoke with a confused and slightly panicked gasp, struggling to sit upright.

There was something crushing me, something wrapped around my abdomen squeezing the life out of me. Something clutched firmly around my throat, too. I'd read of sleep paralysis and night terrors before, but had never experienced it and had no idea what was going on. Sitting up was hard; the wrapping was rigid around me and wouldn't let me curl up properly. But with strength driven by desperation I finally managed it. I staggered out of bed and stood gasping for breath while scrabbling at my torso with my fingertips to free myself.

My fingers met something very odd. Underneath the shirt I'd worn to bed was another garment, flexible but very stiff and very tight. I pulled up the bottom of my shirt and could only make astonished choking noises while I tried to figure out what it was. "C... corset?" I gasped out at last.

Every move was resisted by the corset's firm grip as I struggled the shirt off over my head to fully expose it. Once I'd managed that I then took a moment to try calming my breathing while examining it, since gasping for breath was only making things worse.

It was a black corset, shiny and smooth like satin on the surface, but with stiffening ribs inside that felt like strips of spring steel. I was sure I'd never seen it before in my life. "What... the... hell." Then I coughed slightly and swallowed, reminded again of the separate grip that was around my throat. My hands flew up and found a leather collar in place there. Not as tight as the corset, thank god, or I'd be dead right now. But still...

I had just woken up, I was still disoriented. This was hardly the best time to be confronted with either the physical puzzle of getting these things off or the mental puzzle of trying to figure out how they got on in the first place. It was insane to imagine that someone could have snuck in and slipped them on me while I slept - I'd have had to be really thoroughly drugged for that to happen. But I certainly hadn't done this to ''myself.''

Had I?

I shook my head and stumbled blearily toward the bathroom, already starting to pick at the corset's edges in an attempt to find the fasteners. Get out of this stuff first, figure out where it came from second. Being able to take a full breath would make it easier to clear my head.

But it turned out that this puzzle was going to be a hard one too. I spent perhaps a full five minutes stiffly twisting and turning in front of the mirror, searching for fasteners, but while I did find what appeared to be laces running up the back there didn't seem to be any way to undo them. The collar, too, proved to be an enigma - there was a buckle but it appeared to be purely decorative. The leather itself was an unbroken black band.

I was getting seriously weirded out now. Though the things looked expensive, I was in no mood to worry about that; I grabbed the heftiest pair of shears I could find in the toolkit and tried to cut the things off.

Not a scratch, no matter how I tried. It was hard enough just slipping the blades in under the edges, they were both so tight, but once there it was like I was trying to cut woven unobtainium.

After a full five minutes of ''that'', my hands were getting sore and I was getting tired and light-headed from the exertion. Panting in short, shallow breaths, I carefully sat down and tried to think.

I definitely hadn't done this to myself. I wasn't a drinker, I didn't do drugs. And where would I have even got ahold of something like this? I lived alone, but my parents had helped me clean house just a month ago and they would have commented if I'd had anything like this. Not to mention that I would have remembered it myself. Not only didn't I remember even seeing something like this before, I certainly wasn't the kinky sort who'd have been into this sort of thing.

So why was my penis so hard?

I flushed in acute embarrassment even though there was nobody around to see me like this. ''Has to be the pressure from this fucking thing, squeezing my blood pressure or something...'' I gingerly slid my hand down the hard satin smoothness to reach into my underwear and make sure I was comfortably arranged in there.

I let out a shallow gasp, shocked and alarmed. My penis was erect and rock hard, just as I'd felt, but it was way too short. Only about half the length it should have been under those conditions. "Oh God," I whimpered, "what's happening to me?" I had to get this thing off, it was clearly turning into some kind of medical emergency, but I was totally blanking on what to do about it. I couldn't possibly bring myself to call 911, the embarrassment would be such that I couldn't even ''think'' about it right now. Thinking perhaps to massage myself back up to full size on my own somehow, I took hold of my shaft and gave a firm squeeze.

"Oh!" This gasp was shocked too, but not alarmed. "Oh..." I squeezed again, tilting my head up and arching my back against the confining stiffness that held me. The intensity of the sensation was incredible, like I'd never felt before. I trembled slightly, a small part of me glad I was already sitting down or I might have fallen over.

Squeeze... squeeze... SQUEEZE. I let out a high-pitched cry as I orgasmed without even ejaculating, then let my hand slide away limply and closed my eyes while I tried to recover some semblance of my shattered wits. ''Okay... okay...'' I thought, trying to control my shallow panting and racing heart. ''That felt amazing. But there's something ''wrong'' with me. With everything that's going on here.''

After what must have been a few minutes I'd stopped sweating and my heart was back down to a nearly normal rate, and although my breath was still understandably quite shallow I no longer had to take them as fast as I possibly could. I opened my eyes and straightened back up in the chair with a quiet groan.

I cut the groan off partway through, frozen in astonishment. Somehow, the corset had actually tightened even further. It didn't ''feel'' any tighter, but what had previously been a relatively flat tube now curved inward in the middle and flared outward at the ends in a distinctly hourglass shape. Even more inexplicably, the thing had ''spread''. The upper edge came up higher on my chest, right up over the bottom ribs, and the lower edge clung down around my hips. A quick examination by feel showed that the collar had become broader and had constricted more tightly as well.

This was beyond prank, beyond medical condition, right out into supernatural la-la land. How were these things ''doing'' this? Forget embarrassment, I had to call ''someone''. Or even just run screaming out into the street. I got to my feet, successfully struggling against the increased stiffness of my torso, and promptly collapsed to the floor with a startled yell as my ankles twisted to the sides.

I was more surprised than hurt but it took me a while to catch my breath and climb back into enough of a sitting position to see what was wrong. I'd missed one new detail; I had shoes on now.

Shiny black women's shoes, with incredibly tall high heels. My hysterical laughter came in short gasps, only to be reinforced when I tried pulling one off and found that it was too tight to budge. There were no visible fasteners. I tried breaking the heels off, pounding them on the floor as hard as I could considering my restricted movement while seated down there, but they were just as invulnerable as the rest of this gear.

My gasping laughter turned into gasping sobs, then just gasping, and then eventually back to relatively normal breathing again. I had just woken up but I already felt exhausted by the day's events. It wasn't even seven yet...

"I can't just sit here," I murmured softly to myself with a sigh. "Have to get up." Between the corset and the shoes it was a bit of a struggle, I clung tightly to the wall as I clawed my way back up to a standing position and then wobbled for a few minutes on those ridiculous heels while I tried to get my balance back. It wasn't easy but I had no choice. I tried taking a few mincing steps and found they were throwing my gait off; I had to learn to walk all over again. It put a rather embarrassing swing in my stride when I finally got the hang of it, and the clicking of the shoes on the floor was distracting, but at least I'd recovered my mobility. Such as it was.

And just in time. The pressure the corset was putting on my guts had made my normal morning need to pee stronger than usual, and while until this point the other urgent needs had overridden all that my bladder was starting to win the competition now. I walked shakily over to the bathroom and avoided looking at myself in the mirror as I made my way to the toilet.

My penis was still rock hard, but if anything it was even shorter now. Although I had never been terribly vain I was starting to get a bit panicked about that. But I had to take care of urgent practical matters too; I ''really'' needed to relieve myself. I could call an ambulance after that.

Reaching down to aim, I suddenly hesitated. I remembered the overwhelming reaction the last time I'd touched my member... Grimacing and flushing bright red, I turned and sat down so that I wouldn't have to.

Finally, a slight ''lessening'' of the pressure inside me. I sighed in relief as I finished, leaning back slightly on the toilet seat and stretching my legs out to relieve the cramps that had built up in my calves even from just that small amount of walking I'd done in heels. "Okay, a bit better now," I whispered. Without thinking I reached down to shake the last drop off the tip.

The touch of my fingertips sent a wave of heat shooting through my pelvis and into my guts. I let out a gasp, and then a quiet groan. ''No, not again...'' But another wave hit me and I found that my hand had already taken hold of my stubby penis completely unbidden. ''Let go!''

Squeeze.

''LET GO!'' I moaned in terrible ecstasy as my hand refused, as my ''will'' refused. Squeeze. ''Squeeze.''

Part of me knew what was happening this time, and although that part was powerless to stop it at least I was able to pay some modicum of attention to it. Each pulse of pleasure shooting through my body was bringing changes to the impossible garments I wore, causing them to grow... and to shrink. The shoes flowed up my ankles, sculpting to my calves, rising to my knees. The corset snugged yet more tightly around my waist, of course, but this time the bigger effects were at the top and bottom edges; the top slid up over my chest, right up to the armpits, and the bottom extended downward until it was halfway down my thighs. The material in that portion was no longer stiff, it had turned stretchy and elastic; it hugged tightly without restricting the bending of my hips too much. And my collar... I couldn't quite tell what my collar was doing. It covered my neck completely now, like a leather sleeve, and was somehow reaching up the back of my head to pull on my hair.

Suddenly it occurred to me what I had to do to stop this latest humiliation, and that if anything my efforts so far had done nothing but prolong it. ''Squeeze,'' I thought, letting my self-control go and frantically hoping I was right to do so. ''SQUEEZE.''

"Nyyyahhh! Ah! Oh God! Hh... Hh..." The scream of climax finally brought relief, my hand releasing the shrunken nub of my manhood and coming back under my control again. I was too dazed to do anything with it for a while, though. I was feeling extremely light-headed now, this session had gone on even longer than my previous one because of my very attempt to hold it back.

I couldn't stay in that comforting daze forever, though, and eventually I had to bring myself back to survey the damage. I pulled myself wearily to my feet, my ankles much more stable now with the black knee-high leather boots holding them straight, and supported myself on the edge of the sink as I stared into the mirror.

The corset had grown an attached miniskirt, and the collar had somehow reached up and bound my hair back into a pony tail. I didn't even bother trying to undo it. But worse than the changes to the clothing, I was now becoming strongly convinced that the proportions of my body itself were somehow being molded by it. As in really for real molded, not just squeezed down into the right shape.

My hips were definitely wider, my buttocks more rounded and shapely under that tight stretchy fabric. My neck ''couldn't'' have been squeezed down into that slender a profile conventionally, not without killing me. And my feet were smaller too. If I'd had my normal-sized toes crammed down into those things I wouldn't just be having difficulty walking, I'd be in sheer agony from the broken bones. Instead they felt tight but not really even uncomfortable.

"This can't be real," I murmured, then gave a little gasp and clapped a hand to my mouth. My voice had changed too. It was definitely softer and higher in pitch, more feminine.

I was turning into a woman. Some sort of hot bondage goth woman, to boot. ''How''? And ''why?''

The scissors hadn't cut it - literally - but I was pretty desperate by this point. I rummaged around the bathroom and found the old folding straightedge razor my dad had given me years ago, sharpened to a terrifyingly keen edge. I actually laughed at the irony; he'd given it to me out of some odd sense that using it was more 'manly' than using safety or electric razors and I hadn't been brave enough to consider using it for anything until now, when my manliness was rapidly fading away. I gingerly slipped it down my sternum, the spot with the biggest gap between skin and clothing, and started sawing at the top edge of the black corset in between two of its vertical ribs.

It ''cut''. Ever so slightly, but there was a definite notch. I sawed harder, the fear of nicking my skin overcome by the trace of hope I'd finally stumbled across. If only I'd thought of this from the beginning... I set my jaw and kept sawing, refusing to let myself ponder might-have-beens. Plenty of time for that later. After several minutes I'd only managed a few centimeters and my arm was getting tired; ''this fabric is ''tough'', whatever it is.'' I pulled out the razor and switched hands, taking a moment to stretch my sore muscles.

In that moment the cut sealed itself back up like a zipper. Not quite believing my eyes, I lightly ran a finger over the fabric. I couldn't feel a thing, it had healed itself perfectly.

Moving with slow deliberation and a sense of the inevitable, I took firm hold of my ponytail and sliced it off with a single stroke of the razor. There was a slight prickly sensation in my scalp - possibly psychosomatic - and within about ten seconds the hair had grown right back out to the same length it had been before. Perhaps a little longer, even...

I walked numbly out of the bathroom and sat down in the comfy armchair in the living room, trying to find a sitting posture that minimized the pressures exerted by the gear I was stuck in. This wasn't something 911 would have any way of dealing with. I wracked my brains. Had I offended any Gypsies or witches lately? Stumbled across anything resembling a genie bottle without knowing it at the time? Invoked the names of any demons?

It all drew a blank. I'd just woken up like this, it had just ''happened''. I glanced at the clock and chuckled weakly; it had only been about an hour since then. Felt like longer.

So what could I do now? I couldn't go out like this...

I wasn't done yet. I knew it with certainty somehow. Sitting there in that chair, my mind free to wander, it kept coming back to the tiny throbbing button nestled in my crotch.

I laughed, part bitter and part hysterical, and gingerly rested my hand on my lap with the impenetrable black miniskirt fabric shielding me from any direct touch. Even if I'd wanted to there wasn't anything left ''to'' squeeze! This bizarre curse had gone and thwarted itself right before completion-

My laugh cut off with a gasp and a groan as I pressed down lightly on what remained of my manhood. ''Mm, pressure,'' I realized with a burst of pleasure. But for whatever reason - perhaps this time because of the layer of fabric, perhaps simply because I was gaining ''some'' small modicum of control from experience - I managed to pull my hand away before pressing any harder. It was like pulling steel away from a magnet, but I did it, and laced my fingers firmly behind my back to prevent them from straying on their own.

"Oh God..." the need was yawning before me like an inviting abyss now. I knew what I had to do to take the next step in this process, perhaps the final step. But I didn't want to, I knew that now with just as much certainty. This was all someone ''else's'' fantasy, someone ''else's'' fetish, I was being dragged along unwillingly by forces beyond my control. I wanted out of it.

Throbbing, throbbing, bulging, turgid ''need''...

Clenching my hands together and whimpering, I curled up around the source of my ranging desire as best I could in this constraining clothing. I'd set myself off again. Maybe if I just squeezed my legs together, ground my crotch a little into the cushion... ''No!'' I jumped to my feet as if electrocuted, spreading my legs apart to let some cool air into my heated nethers. I knew where that thought was leading.

How else could I stop this? ''Come on, self control. You've already stopped this. Keep a firm grip on your hands. Just ride it out.''

Ride it out. Ride it out. I echoed that mantra rhythmically in my mind. Where could I go to do that safely? I couldn't think that clearly, but I still felt like relocating might help, so I staggered unsteadily back into the bedroom where this had all started.

I'd rapidly gained confidence walking in these ridiculously high-heeled boots but it turned out that it wasn't fully warranted. Stepping through the door, one heel caught on the edge of the carpet and sent me stumbling forward. I tried to fling my hands out to catch myself but in that vital instant they refused to part, and with a yelp I fell face first onto my bed. The impact didn't hurt but it was quite jarring, almost breaking my concentration. I clung to my mantra. Ride it out, ride it out, grind it out, ''grind'' it out...

I moaned in dismay as I realized the source of the mantra's perversion; my hips had started rocking reflexively as I lay on my stomach, dry-humping against the firmness of my mattress. ''No! No, I...'' I blinked in confusion. I was trying to push myself up off the bed, but my hands were still stuck together behind my back. I wasn't lacing my fingers together any more to hold them there, something was now physically binding them together.

The realization came in mid-grind, sending another pleasurable shock through my body to addle my thoughts. The heady aroma of my own well-slept-in sheets pushed against my face were only feeding my insane arousal. "No," I moaned in abject denial. "Uh, oh God, no!"

''Mm, yes, press! Harder! Deeper!'' My hips were almost working on their own now, and with my hands mysteriously out of commission I was helpless to stop them. My manhood must have retreated even farther, though, because the stimulation was becoming less...

I'd fallen on the lower end of my bed and my vigorous rhythmic motion had slid me farther down. My knees went over the edge now, pulling me all the way to the bed's lower corner. I almost slid right off, and for a brief moment I felt a burst of hope I might escape this source of stimulation. But then my crotch caught up against the knob of the bedpost.

It should have been painful, but the sensation that triggered my high-pitched cry was quite the opposite.

I was trapped. I couldn't go forward, my knees were hooked down around the corner of the mattress and kept pulling me back of their own volition, and I couldn't slide the rest of the way off because of the knob. I could only lie there on my chest, my arms mysteriously tied behind my back, while my hips pumped against the bed with a mind of their own. And really, my own mind was hardly in a condition to say otherwise at this point.

The feeling of pressure on my crotch was tremendous. It was no longer the familiar outward pressure of an erection, it was the ''inward'' pressure of penetration. It needed to be filled. The outward pressure had moved upward instead... My chest was swelling under me, the rubbing of the mattress sending new tingles of pleasure from the nipples of my growing breasts. I closed my eyes and whimpered out one last useless denial.

Then something slid home in my crotch, fulfilling the yawning sense of need with a wave of climactic pleasure. But unlike the previous waves, this one continued lapping over and over; I cried out with each one, and at some point the cries of "no" changed to cries of "yes." I didn't really mean it, I knew somewhere deep down inside, but, oh... It was sooo good.

Eventually even that slowly subsided. I lay still on the bed, eyes closed, panting, arms still clamped solidly together behind me, totally satiated and spent for the first time since I'd awakened. It was perhaps the 'warm afterglow' I'd always heard about. Or perhaps I was just exhausted from the fight, a fight that was now over. I had no idea how long I rested like that.

I couldn't rest forever, though. My mind was starting to clear and the thoughts that were rising up within it were making that impossible. Despite my reluctance, I needed to know what had happened to me. I needed to see the final results.

I opened my eyes. The first thing I noticed before I even moved was the cowl; the collar had apparently had one last spurt of growth in it, spreading up over my head to leave only my nose and mouth bare. ''Thank god there are eyeholes...'' A small blessing, perhaps, but not one I was going to overlook under the circumstances. The surprisingly long brown hair of my new pony tail was cascading down past my face so there presumably had to be another hole for that too.

Turning my head to look down at myself brought me face to face with my own cleavage. It was not entirely unexpected, but still jarring. The corset had grown into a full bustier, pushing the already quite large breasts up even more prominently, and the fact that I was lying slightly propped up on them gave them an undeniable solidity.

Then I tried moving the rest of my body, and a startled feminine "oh!" escaped my lips. ''Oh God, the bedpost...'' It was ''inside'' me, I could feel the tug. That couldn't possibly be good. With all the gingerness I could muster I straightened my legs and lifted my hips, pulling free with a faint audible pop from the tightness of the opening clutching it.

I rolled over and sat up on the edge of the bed, staring at the soaking wet wooden knob. All I could think of were the impossibility of the fit; it should have torn my vagina wide open. But I wasn't even sore.

''Oh God, I have a vagina!'' With my arms still bound I couldn't pull up the hem of the glossy black miniskirt to check, but after all that I didn't really need to; I believed it. And I guess I believed that it was a vagina capable of fucking bedposts without harm, too, or any other size thing that needed accommodating. I let out a laugh. Then a sob.

I'd been turned into some kind of magical bondage slut. The hows and whys of it no longer even seemed all that important now, I just ''was''. I sat on the edge of my bed and cried.

That, too, couldn't last forever - though it did last a good long time. When my tears finally dried the whirlwind of chaotic feelings had for the most part died with it. I wasn't sure what I should do next but I had to do something. So I got up.

The tightness of the clothing remained. All over my body now - the stiletto-heeled boots had risen all the way up past thigh-high, gripping the entire lengths of my oh-so-shapely legs, the bustier had my entire equally-shapely torso in its firm embrace, and my arms were encased in some kind of single sleeve that went all the way up to my shoulders and kept them bound tightly together behind me. The bitter irony was that if that last one had happened first I wouldn't have had such problems resisting the need to squeeze from the beginning. The other irony was that the one part of my body that wasn't confined at all was my crotch; the miniskirt concealed it but I could feel the free flow of air over it as I moved.

Fortunately I'd left all the doors open as I'd charged madly around the apartment trying to satiate myself, so I didn't need to worry about dealing with doorknobs just yet. I walked with slow foreboding over to the bathroom to face myself in the mirror.

Were it not for the clothing I'd probably consider myself extremely hot. My figure was exaggerated a bit too much, but probably only because of the extra gear squishing it into that shape. ''Maybe... maybe if I could just get out of this stuff, it wouldn't be so bad...'' I didn't want to be a woman, sure, but at least then I'd look like a ''normal'' woman. Not a bondage freak, anyway.

But I'd tried that right at the beginning and the fabric had refused to stay cut. I wasn't sure how, but I just knew this was permanent. I was stuck like this. Hell, despite all the sweating and rubbing and chafing I'd done, I didn't feel the least bit sore or dirty... at least, not in the outward sense. It was like the clothing was part of me somehow. This was magic and I didn't understand, but I ''knew.''

I flexed my fingers, barely able to move them inside the tight sleeve, and then despite the certain futility I struggled to pull my arms free of their confinement until I was so exhausted I was left kneeling and panting on the bathroom floor. This couldn't be it, I told myself with all the hope I could muster. There had to be something more. There ''had'' to be. One more change that would set everything right.

Climbing back to my feet - to my stiletto-heeled boots - I walked sullenly back out into the living room, though even sullen and defeated I couldn't fully suppress the sexy sway those boots forced me into.

I wasn't hungry and I wasn't going to be preparing and eating food without my hands free anyway. I also wasn't going to go outside or call anyone. So I did the only thing I could think of that was left now; I picked up the TV remote in my teeth and after much delicate fumbling turned it on.

Oh, how I wish I'd done that sooner...

The news was on. A special bulletin, with all manner of experts and commentators explaining everything I'd needed to know - sort of. Aliens had come. Or angles, or demons... ''something'' with power beyond human ken, at any rate. They'd announced they would be giving a handful of randomly-selected people across the globe the 'realization of their dreams'. For just a few hours those people would be able to reshape their own reality, and then the world would be left to enjoy the results.

I stared at the TV for quite a while as it slowly sank in. I ''had'' done this to myself, somehow, after all. I couldn't believe it. It must have all started with just one random thought, passing as I slid up from dreams to wakefulness, and then it had all just snowballed uncontrollably - my own fears about what would happen next ''becoming'' what would happen next.

Hope blossomed and I spun to look at the clock, so quickly my ponytail flicked across my face. Eight fifteen. It had been six when I'd awakened, hadn't it? 'A few hours', they'd said on the TV, right? Maybe there was still time for one more change! I scrambled to my feet, closed my eyes, and concentrated as hard as I could. "Back to normal," I announced to whatever supernatural wish-granter might be listening. "No more of this bondage gear. A guy again. A fit, handsome, muscular guy," I amended quickly. ''Hm, yes, that sounds good. I'd like one of those. Maybe...'' My eyes snapped open with a frightened gasp and I looked around to make sure that last thought ''hadn't'' become reality.

Shit, I had to be careful. These runaway self-reinforcing desires had been what got me into this in the first place. I wondered how many other people had received similarly broken 'gifts' and shuddered - these benevolent aliens or whatever may have just brought a lot of people curses instead of blessings. They certainly had in my case.

"Just one more change!" I shouted desperately. "Please!"

There was no response. I suppose I hadn't really expected it. But I was feeling frantic now, the one ray of hope dangled in front of me and then seemingly yanked away again. I decided that ''now'' was the time to run outside. Perhaps I could find someone else whose reality-changing gift was still active and get him to fix me. I rushed to the front door and knelt down by the knob, intending to turn it with my teeth and pull the door open.

One last wild runaway impulse seized me. I felt it coming, felt a stab of panic even though I didn't really understand it, but I couldn't stop it. Instead of gripping the doorknob in my teeth I leaned forward and took the thing entirely into my mouth. "Mmmf," I grunted in surprise at even being ''able'' to do that. Then the knob popped effortlessly free from the door and I tried to spit it out. But it was too late. The brassy metal taste and texture changed, becoming rubbery, and a pair of straps shot out from the corners of my mouth to snap together behind my head.

"Nnnnnn!" I screamed, muted by the enormous ball gag jammed in my mouth. I couldn't open my jaw any wider, the seal was perfect. "Nnnn! Nn, nn, nn, nnnnn!" I couldn't claw at it with my arms bound as they were, so I resorted to slamming my face into the door in a vain attempt to dislodge the thing.

That was the last thing about my reality that changed. As I'd feared - perhaps ''because'' I'd feared - I was stuck like this.

I'd like to say I've become used to it, but I haven't. And I don't think I ever really will. Because I'm not like this, not really. I try to have as normal a life as I can, with my perfectly good hands bound away behind me and my perfectly good voice stopped by a gag, but it's hard - you can imagine how long it's taken me to type my story like this.

I suppose there are some minor benefits. My flesh is as tough and heals as quickly as my clothing, which I suppose means I'm probably immortal. Seems to be the case for all of those who were affected; there had been many suicide attempts and not a single success that anyone knew of. I don't even need to eat, a very good thing considering what's stuck in my mouth. Cutting the straps and pulling that gag out is a major chore and I've never managed to last more than ten minutes before winding up with some other object lodged in there turning into a rubber ball. This new reality of mine abhors a vacuum and acts quickly to fill it.

I can imagine perhaps getting used to the physical handicaps someday. It's the social ones that really get to me. People assume the aliens' gift made my outward self match the true inner me, and most people treat me accordingly - even friends, even when they should know better.

I admit it certainly doesn't help that I find it hard not to act appropriately when people treat me like a submissive slut. And sometimes my mouth isn't the only orifice that needs filling. But it's all just the work of alien magic and unwilling reflex, as artificially imposed by the warp of my new reality as the clothing I'm stuck in and the shape of my body. All the while I'm still convinced in the back of my mind that this is all someone ''else's'' fantasy. A fantasy that got way out of control.

[[Category:Story]]
[[Category:Transgender]]
[[Category:Martin Divo]]

Seas of the Moon

2009-06-07T02:30:31Z

Martin Divo: forgot Category:Transgender

{{XXX}}

{{title
|name= Seas of the Moon
|author= Martin Divo
|user=Martin Divo}}

The Sandes Tower was a gleaming silver spire that stabbed up out of the lush greensward in the outskirts of Michigan, its shape reminiscent of the aerodynamic lines of a Buck Rogers-style rocket ship. Cal stood in quiet awe in its shadow, the robocab waiting patiently with his luggage while the young man drank in all the retro glory of the structure.

It really wasn't anything super special in the grand scheme of things, a corner of his mind tried to remind him. Sandes was a big company but not really all ''that'' big; the building was so impressive largely due to its isolation out here in the suburbs. But that didn't matter to Cal. This building, even with its kitchy faux-spacecraft retro facade, represented opportunity and hope for the future. Earth's, yes, but his own most of all.

Cal had struggled to rise from the lowest classes for as long as he could remember. Education hadn't come easy, and so he had studied as hard as he could; he'd left home at an early age and scrounged his own way through a blend of courses and menial jobs to qualify for a scholarship to an actual university. He'd managed to squeak out an electrical engineering degree. It was a good degree, and a good profession for these difficult times. It had nearly broken his spirit when the hardest part of all turned out to be the search for a job after getting it.

The churning economy of Earth was going through one of its regular downturns. The latest, greatest technology was failing again; Vidnet had fragmented under the weight of its own complexity, riven with viruses and incompatibility. Electrical engineers were in tremendous demand right now as major corporations retooled their facilities. It was the eighth such catastrophe since the first collapse of the Internet almost a hundred years ago and it had almost become an expected routine. Most people just used the term 'netdeath'.

But for whatever reason, Cal's resume kept falling on deaf ears. Perhaps there was some particular combination of features in his background that kept tripping pre-screening filters, his relatively low social class or his age at graduation. He was only twenty five but that was still several years older than most of his peers. The table in his tiny apartment had been accumulating a steadily growing pile of rejection forms and bill payment past-due reminders. Soon he would have had to start considering yet another menial job just to make ends meet, and he'd feared that this time without his courses to draw him back it would wind up becoming his long-term career.

He'd had less than a week's leeway in his rent payments when the letter from Sanders had come. They were interested in him. So interested, in fact, that they paid him a consideration fee right then and there to entice him to come for an interview. He'd had to re-read the letter several times before he could even begin to believe the incredible reversal of his bad fortunes; not only did he seem virtually guaranteed a position, but it was in their corporate ''space program''.

Cal let his eyes scan up the length of the building to the sky. It was the middle of the day so nothing much was visible in the cloudless blue but he imagined he could see the Moon, the faint silver flecks of the Lunar colonies dotting its ancient face. The people of Earth had spent much of the past century trying to reach it and reestablish their dominion once again, a holy grail everyone dreamed of even if they no longer really expected to succeed. All efforts seemed permanently stuck at low Earth orbit.

"Your baggage sir," the robocab intoned, snapping him out of his reverie.

"Heh. Of course." It was a bit unusual to bring a suitcase to an interview like this but the letter had suggested that he bring a change of clothes and a lot of personal documentation. He wasn't about to disregard any of that advice.

The cab scooted away as soon as he retrieved his things, leaving him to walk up the empty front steps of the building and into the lobby alone. His heart was hammering but he strove to keep his outward demeanor calm. The front desk had an actual human receptionist, a nice-looking redheaded woman who gave him a warm smile and a badge for the fifteenth floor; he thanked her and moved on with even greater anticipation. There was almost nobody else around and it seemed - perhaps irrationally - that this meant there were no other competitors for the position.

The lift let him off on the fifteenth floor and his badge directed him down the hall to a conference room, where it fell quiescent and left him standing outside the door. Cal took a deep breath to settle his nerves, ran his fingers through his wavy brown hair and checked his fly, then finally knocked.

The conference room opened to reveal a lone man seated at the table inside. "Cal Montrosse?" The man asked - a mere formality, of course, since if they were expecting him they'd surely already known that his badge had arrived. Cal nodded and the man gestured for him to enter. "Hi, I'm Alvyn Singh, human resources. I've read a lot about you, but I bet you're curious about us and what we want you for..."

The interview was amazingly fast and friendly, better than any Cal could remember taking for far less prominent jobs. Alvyn barely even asked him any questions about his qualifications. First there was a ream of confidentiality agreements to sign, the extra-rigorous sorts that were be expected for a job like this... whatever it was. Then Alvyn launched into an description of exactly what it was.

"The collapse of Vidnet has opened up some unexpected opportunities for the Sandes corporation," Alvyn explained. "A lot of communication stations in high orbit have been cut off and will need refurbishment. But we've done an end-run around the usual procedure. We've purchased rights to a number of derelict stations from the ''SLGrid'' era. Got them for a song, as you might imagine."

Cal nodded. SLGrid had preceded Vidnet by two generations and had come closest to surviving the seemingly inevitable collapse that global computer systems kept going through, but ultimately even that rigid protocol had splintered. "You want to revive SLGrid?"

"Sort of. The details... are too restricted to go into right now, even with all those contracts you've already signed. But the basic gist is that we're going to need to refurbish and retool those old SLGrid stations. It's going to be hard work, and it's going to be done on location."

It sounded incredible. Perhaps because it ''was''. "Not to give offense, or look this opportunity in the mouth or anything, but... Sandes isn't a major corp. I didn't even know it ''had'' a space program until now. How're you going to support repairs like that?"

Alvyn grinned. "Another end-run around the usual procedure. We've got a bit of technical assistance that came at great expense, but should save far, ''far'' more money during this operation. Special space-suits." His grin widened and he leaned forward conspiratorially. "From Luna."

Cal blinked. It was hard to believe. The colonies had been planted right before the first collapse, several thousand technicians and scientists stranded on the Moon with no capacity left on Earth to retrieve them. Rather than considering themselves stranded, however, the colonists had declared their domes a refuge instead. Their network was small, isolated, and self-sufficient, so they'd kept it running just fine while Earth frantically tried to rebuild its infrastructure. They'd sailed through the seven subsequent collapses untouched as well. Luna was a technological shangri-la, cut off from the outside world and advanced far beyond it. Trade was extremely rare and they kept their secrets close.

"They're made of programmable biogel," Alvyn continued. "You've heard of it?" Cal nodded; biogel was a near-magical substance the Lunarians had come up with to compensate for their lack of manufacturing and need for life support, sort of semi-living and sort of like a computer but with capabilities beyond either. The rich and famous might have the occasional biogel artifact but he'd certainly never used one himself, or even seen one in person. "Well, the suits are practically self-sufficient. You could live for months in one of those things. So we'll be able to send your team up with just a toolkit and a reentry shield, hardly any need for other support. Assuming, of course, that you want the job. And that the suit fits."

Cal's mind was whirling. It was just plausible enough to believe, but with enough of an air of unreality to it to consider the situation abstractly. "Why me? Surely there are more qualified people..."

"Aye, there's the rub. The suits are... 'picky'. You've got qualifications, but we screened your medical records too. If the suit won't fit you you're no good to us." Alvyn stood up. "That's the next step in the interview process, as you might expect."

Cal rose hurriedly to his feet as well and gave a nervous grin. He'd probably never be able to tell anyone thanks to those confidentiality agreements, but even if he didn't get the job the chance to see and actually ''try on'' a biogel suit was the chance of a lifetime. "Lead on, then, by all means." Alvyn nodded and the two of them headed back to the lift.

{{Separator|x}}

They got out on a basement level. Security was tight; the doors were suspiciously thick and heavy, and they went through a small room that obviously concealed a full-volume scanning system of some sort. But the gleaming laboratory beyond more than justified all of it.

The room was large and high-ceilinged, with an array of equipment lining the walls that Cal was largely unfamiliar with. In the middle was a padded table sized just right for a reclining person, with sensors hanging overhead, and off to one side was a smaller table with a heavy steel case resting on it. A control booth was visible through a thick glass window in one wall. Waiting in the room to meet them were a middle-aged man and woman in expensive-looking suits, a younger white-smocked technician, and an security guard who took looking simultaneously impressive and unimpressed to the level of a high art. He wore both a stun prod and a lethal-looking carbine prominently on his waist.

Cal really didn't expect any more introductions at this stage, which made it all the more surprising when the well-dressed couple greeted them. "Cal Montrosse?" The man asked, reaching to take his hand. "I'm Paul Sandes, and this is my wife Eileen. Welcome to our inner sanctum."

Cal shook his hand with a slightly stunned smile and nod. He recognized those names, these were the ''owners'' of Sandes corporation. ''Make a good impression, make a good impression, make a good impression.'' "Thanks, it's great to be here." ''Gah! Well, at least I didn't drool or anything.''

Paul Sandes held Cal's hand for a moment longer, just long enough to be awkward, then released it with a smile. "Let's show you the goods, then." The three of them headed over to the metal case and Eileen opened it to reveal a padded foam interior. The foam was sculpted to hold eight spherical objects, each the size of a cantaloupe, but only four of the cavities were occupied. Cal blinked in surprised disappointment. These must be the biogel spacesuits. They looked for all the world like toys for children, four big rubber balls to kick around a playground. They had a glossy sheen and each came in a different pastel hue; blue, orange, yellow, and green.

"These cost twenty million E apiece," Paul said with an almost reverent tone. Cal whistled in amazement. ''Sure don't look it.''

"Which color do you think suits him?" Eileen asked.

Paul looked Cal up and down appraisingly, with a seriousness that made Cal uncomfortable. "Not sure. How about we let this one pick his own?" Eileen pursed her lips thoughtfully, then nodded with a smile that made Cal even more uncomfortable.

"Um..." Cal felt a drop of sweat form; was this some sort of test? Did the color actually matter? ''Stop thinking, just pick.'' "Blue?" He stammered.

Paul nodded. "It'll look good on you. Assuming the suit fits, of course." He flashed a cheerful grin and Cal sighed in relief. "Right, strip down and lie on the bed. Let's do this thing."

Cal froze up again for a moment like a deer in headlights. But Paul was serious, and under the circumstances Cal recognized that prudishness should be a relatively minor concern. "Everything?"

"Everything," Eileen confirmed. "Not one stitch or trace of your former life. Take it all off."

That didn't exactly make Cal feel more comfortable. A quick glance around the room revealed a distinct lack of interest from everyone else, though; Alvyn and the unnamed technician were both busy with some of the equipment, and the guard might as well have been a robot. Though he blushed fiercely throughout the process he soon had all his clothing neatly folded and stacked on the floor. He went over to the padded table and sat on the edge, attempting to evade Eileen's appraising gaze as best he could in the nearly empty room.

"Oh, one more thing!" Alvyn called out. He hurried over to Cal with a sheaf of papers and a pen. "I nearly forgot. Just one more contract to sign, a disclaimer of liability and such." Cal gave a quietly exasperated sigh; this hardly seemed the time for such things. He quickly scrawled his name. Alvyn gave a little bow and retreated to the control room, while Paul stepped forward. He'd put on a pair of gloves and was holding the rubbery blue sphere in his hands.

"Lie down on your back," Paul ordered.

Cal did so. He was still acutely aware of everyone watching him, even moreso with the various lenses suspended from the ceiling overhead, and the knowledge that he was about to touch Lunatech biogel made it pretty much impossible to calm the hammering of his heart. "Oh, isn't he excited," Eileen cooed with a chuckle in her voice, and Cal flushed an even deeper red at the uncontrollable erection he was starting to get. He was just about to ask if a little more privacy was possible when Paul stepped forward and cut off the thought by placing the blue sphere gently down on Cal's chest.

It instantly began to melt the moment it touched his skin. Cal gasped in surprise at the sensation; the material was ''warm'', and tingled as it began to quickly flatten and spread. He struggled to hold still and control his breathing, at least. ''This looks promising, oh god, it's flowing over me, uh, is this good? Mmm...'' Once he got over the initial moment of shock and did his best to disregard how horrible it looked it was actually quite pleasant. The slick blue material was spreading over his skin like liquid, but ''only'' his skin - as it wrapped around his torso he felt it slide between him and the cushion, clasping and fusing together again at the spine. Cal gingerly touched the blue membrane that had spread over his torso and found it smooth and dry on his fingertips.

He let out a little involuntary whimper as the biogel flowed down to his crotch, sliding over his skin and intimately hugging his every anatomical detail. It certainly didn't help reduce that erection, either. The warm, tingling, gently throbbing squeeze of the biogel sent involuntary shudders up and down his spine. "Uh, this is kind of-"

"Shh," Eileen hushed, cutting Cal off. He glanced over at her and found her expression to be an extremely disturbing mix of fascination and lust. ''Okay, this is getting a little too weird.'' Cal opened his mouth to voice an objection. The rapidly-creeping membrane reached it at that exact moment.

"Ackpthmmm!" The biogel curled right around the edges of his lips and continued its spread ''inside'' his mouth. Down at the other end of his body it was doing likewise to his other orifices. There was no way he could hold still with ''that'' going on; Cal flailed clumsily as he tried to jump up off the bed. But even as he did so a restraint strap snapped out and around to loop over his midsection, holding him down; someone in the control room must have been quite quick on the switch. Cal was left choking and squirming still on the bed, clawing at his face and arching his back in an attempt to escape his clinging tormentor.

Except it still wasn't actually torment. His struggles eased after a moment, once the shock had passed. The material was forming a second skin that was so thin and so tight against his own that even with it inside his mouth it didn't seem to be obstructing him. And everywhere it spread a warm, comfortable tingle permeated his body, which seemed to be helping a lot too. With a quiet groan he slumped back to rest.

The biogel slid over his face, tickling up his nostrils and at the edges of his eyes without actually obstructing anything, and Cal could feel the very strange sensation of it flowing ''around'' his hair as it covered his scalp - each one poked out through its own individual pinhole in the suit's coverage. ''Exposure to vacuum's going to ruin it...'' the thought flitted dreamily through his mind, and he couldn't help but let out a chuckle. ''Woah. This tingling's getting to me.''

The suit slid down past his knees and elbows, his hands and feet the only remaining clear patches. He raised his arms in front of his face to watch the pastel blue wave complete its journey, flowing down to his fingertips and leaving him with a glossy skintight sheen. ''They really should have warned me in more detail,'' Cal mused as he flexed his fingers. But even though he could still feel a vague queasiness in his guts, as if the material was continuing to probe ever deeper into his digestive tract, the moment of fear seemed to be past now. If not for the warm tingle it wouldn't feel like he was covered in anything at all, the stuff was so tight and thin. ''This could well be the most awesome spacesuit ever.''

But the blue biogel wasn't quite done yet. His hands were still up in front of his face so he saw immediately as the material began drawing up between his fingers to form a strange sort of webbing. Cal frowned in puzzlement. Was there perhaps some mistake? That would be useless in space, perhaps this was intended as a wetsuit instead. Before he had even finished formulating that thought, though, the change continued quickly on beyond simple webbing. He felt the rubbery substance tightening, pulling his fingers together with more strength than he could resist and smoothing over the spaces between them. "Hhah?" The biogel coating his throat made it hard to speak.

It didn't stop him from letting out a startled yell, though, as the gel began constricting more firmly around other parts of his body as well. The tingling grew with the pressure too, but not enough to overwhelm his awareness of what was going on. The gel tightened around his waist, clutched his skull in a gentle vise, tugged rings tighter around his arms and legs... and began ''really'' squeezing his crotch. "Hhah!" A bit disoriented and plenty frightened again, he began to struggle to sit up.

"Easy, eeeeasy," Paul spoke calmingly and put his hand on Cal's shoulder, pressing his back down against the cushions again and against all odds actually managing to break through the panic. The throbbing tingle probably helped too, it somehow made the pressures the suit was exerting into a pleasurable experience. "The biogel's just adjusting its fit. Relax."

"It's too late to stop it at this point anyway," Eileen added with a smug tone. That would have set Cal right back off again if he'd actually heard it. But right now his attention was being directed solely toward his own body.

His waist was actually being cinched inward a little, as if in the grip of an invisible corset, and his almost painfully erect penis was drawn up flush against his belly - a small bit of welcome modesty, though the bulge was still quite evident. Biogel was continuing to flow down his arms, building up more thickly on his hands; they were embedded inside solid mittens of the stuff by now. But it wasn't just biogel that was flowing.

As Cal's waist slimmed his chest began to bulge. It was impossible, it ''had'' to be more biogel shifting around, but there had only been so much in that blue ball... Cal's pectorals swelled, trembling and rippling slightly as involuntary shudders passed through Cal's flowing musculature. He was growing ''breasts'' under that glossy pastel skin. His buttocks swelled slightly too, further enhancing the feminine curves his figure was developing. ''They gave me a girl's suit!'' The realization struck him just as the tension in his crotch intensified. The straining rod of his penis began sinking into a smooth mound, which then split into a small but rapidly deepening crease before his very eyes.

But as bizarre and terrifying as that was, the biogel suit topped it all with what began happening next. The grip on Cal's head and limbs began intensifying and he swore he could feel his ''bones'' begin to warp under the tingling pressure too. His arms and legs were refusing to flex properly, he could barely even feel his fingers and toes any more. His neck was swelling, even lengthening slightly. And his face... it was bulging, his nose swelling larger in his vision and jaw protruding outward. There was soft crackling inside his head as his eyes started shifting apart, his field of view widening unsettlingly.

"He-e-e-e-ah!" The scream that tore from his distorted mouth was inhuman. It was too much; warm tingling or no, there was nothing he could do now except fall into blind panic. Cal pawed and kicked wildly, trying to fight free of the insanity that had come over him.

There was commotion around him, he had no idea what it meant or even who was nearby. Then the tingle was replaced with a sudden sharp jolt radiating out from his ribs where the stun prod had struck, and the world finished its spiral into darkness.

{{Separator|x}}

When Cal began groggily struggling his way back toward consciousness the first solid thought that flitted across his mind was that he was lying on his side now instead of his back.

It wasn't much of an observation, but pondering it kept him busy while he continued his recovery in the background. Opening his eyes produced a glaring, confusing hash of vision, so he clenched them shut again and focused on his other senses instead. They weren't doing much better. There were sounds, weird and echoey - nearby breathing and shuffling and more. Sensations... warm air and soft padding on bare skin, he was still naked. Still naked...

The terrifying ordeal with the runaway Lunatech biosuit came flooding back to conscious awareness. Cal's eyes flew open again and a spasm ran through his body as he tried and completely failed to leap upright. "Wh-uh-uh..." he exclaimed dizzily as he sank limply back to the soft surface he was lying on. ''Vertigo. What's happened to me? Take inventory.''

Cal's eyes crossed. It was too blurry to make out the details, but his nose was ''enormous,'' a huge blue blob filling the center of his field of vision. ''Blue means that crap's still on me!'' Cal kept a lid on his panic, though, the lingering grogginess of being stunned unconscious helping to keep him calmer now. That, and the lingering tingle. Refocusing his eyes past his nose, he saw that he was lying on the floor. His arms stretched limply out in front of him. They were strangely altered under the blue skin; the joints were repositioned, his wrists were lengthened and thickened, and his hands were just solid masses of some sort. He had no attention to spare on that just now, though, as his gaze wandered lower.

The breasts were still there, the feminine contours were still there, and his cock still ''wasn't'' there. He let out a whimper that felt very odd in his throat.

The place he was in didn't offer any clues as to what had happened. He was lying on the floor of a very small padded room, or perhaps a cubical of some sort; the walls only went halfway up to the ceiling. The random sounds filtering in from over that wall didn't help add any meaning. ''I have to get up.'' No other ideas presented themselves, at any rate. Cal's limbs couldn't bend the way he needed them to any more so he spent a few minutes clumsily flailing to roll his body over and get them braced underneath him. It was such a difficult and awkward chore that when he finally succeeded the ease with which he pushed himself up on all fours caught him by surprise. He stood motionless for a moment while he tried to grasp what he'd done.

He was balanced on his fingers and toes. His butt should have been sticking way up in the air in that posture, but his body was actually perfectly level; the proportions of his limbs had apparently been modified. Proportions and shape, both. Twisting his unusually flexible neck around to get a look at himself revealed that his legs didn't look particularly human. More like...

His tail twitched reflexively behind his hindquarters, flicking the billowing brush of silky green hair that grew from it into view. Cal let out a startled whinny and tottered an unsteady four-footed step forward, almost falling again. ''I'm a horse! A girl horse! With boobs, and green hair, and blue skin, and-'' Cal shook his head disbelievingly, more of that silky green hair dropping into his vision from his flowing mane.

"Wh-hee-hee-hee-eew! Hew!" His throat was tight and his mouth refused to properly obey his commands, turning his stream of profanity into an inarticulate animal sound. Another similar-sounding whinny answered him from just over the padded dividing wall to his left. Cal reared up on his legs - his ''hind'' legs - and wobbled unsteadily with his hands windmilling in front of him in a vain attempt to keep balanced. There was something wrong with his hips, he couldn't hold himself upright like that for more than a few seconds. It was enough to raise his head high enough for a glimpse around, though.

He was in a stable. The cubicles were stalls - a row along one wall, he couldn't tell exactly how many - and he caught a glimpse of a strange glossy green shape in the stall next to his. There was also someone standing out in the open area beyond the stall doors, wearing a utilitarian jumpsuit and watching over everyone. "Hey, settle down, blue!" He spoke firmly. "Wait until everyone's here and you'll get your explanation. You've been out for a while, there's just one more to come."

Cal didn't really have a choice, his balancing ability failed and he sank back down to a clumsy seated posture on the floor. His mind was whirling dizzily. ''This is ridiculous. What sort of malfunction is ''this''? Spacesuits for horses? It doesn't make sense...''

In his current state Cal had no way to guess how much time passed. He just sat there, gingerly lifting first one hand and then the other and trying in vain to flex his fingers. His arms were forelegs now, they were tipped in solid masses that resembled hooves. Completely useless. His voice, too, seemed completely gone. His long pointed ears twitched and rotated to catch the of the other horse-creatures that apparently shared his predicament, but the only sounds that seemed remotely meaningful were the distorted sobs coming from a stall somewhere far to the right. The rest was just shuffling, bumping, and the occasional horsey whicker.

Finally, a door opened. Cal couldn't see what was going on but those ears were great for localizing it; he could hear the sound of someone walking and a lifter cart accompanying him. "This is the last of 'em," the new person murmured. A stall was opened, the lifter whined and deposited its load, and then left again. Cal waited with bated breath. ''I was promised an explanation. Please, I need an explanation.''

Another interminable time later - not as long as the last wait, anyway - the door to the room opened again and two people walked inside. The one who'd been guarding the room until then greeted them. "Evening, sir. They've been well-behaved, haven't told them a word. Would you like me to stay and back you up?"

"No, that's alright," the familiar voice replied. "The situation's perfectly under control." It was Paul Sandes. Someone started whinnying at the top of their lungs, clearly furious. There was the sound of someone else thudding heavily into a padded stall wall. The commotion made Call cringe, his ears flicking back reflexively to lie flat against his skull. After a moment the whinnying suddenly died away, though, and everything went back to the soft background murmur of distressed and confused horse-people. "Perfectly under control," Paul repeated.

The other man left the room and a moment later the door of the stall turned transparent. Cal stared dully out through the glassy pane at the Sandes couple standing in front of him, who looked back at him - and the stalls next to him - with very satisfied expressions on their faces.

''Still naked, and with ''breasts''.'' The thought popped into Cal's mind and his ears blushed hot with embarrassment, assuming that blue biogel was capable of blushing. He raised one foreleg in an awkward attempt to give himself some modesty and was rewarded with a chuckle from Eileen that just made it worse.

"Now then, you're probably wondering just what happened to you," Paul began with a conversational tone. "Well, I admit, I misled you all. Sandes corporation doesn't have a space program, and that programmable biogel was no spacesuit." He broke into a grin. "Actually, I lied through my teeth. But you signed your affidavits. You're mine now."

"Or ours, anyway," Eileen added. Her grin was much more menacing than Paul's and Cal felt a chill run down his spine. "In case you didn't know, that stuff was a type of biogel called hybridizing biogel. When it bonded to you it bonded more than skin deep. It blended with you completely, all the way to your cores. And by legal UN mandate precedent, that means you're no longer human. No longer have any rights. You're just beasts, less than beasts even. Property. Body and soul."

Eileen's obvious relish was perhaps more frightening than even just the words themselves, even Paul gave a slightly nervous chuckle and touched her arm to interrupt. "Now, dear, let's not berate them until they actually need it. But yes, you're just property now. And you'd be well advised to accept it, internalize it, understand it, and ''live'' it. Yes, I tricked you. In theory it wasn't really legal. But here's the kicker; it doesn't really matter. As property, as ''things'', your testimony is inadmissible in court should you happen to find some way to speak there. Your word versus mine and your word doesn't count."

"And in any event, it's permanent." Eileen chimed back in. "Totally, irrevokably... there's no physical way to separate hybridized biogel from a host once it's set, or alter its basic programming once it's locked. And believe me, it's set and locked. You're going to be this way for the whole rest of your very long lives. If not us then someone else will own you instead."

Cal's heart was hammering hard inside his buxom chest, stretched-out equine jaw hanging slightly open in shocked disbelief. ''Wait... no. This is ridiculous.'' He had the terrible conviction lurking in the back of his mind that what Eileen was saying was technically true. It sounded familiar, anyway, like something he'd once read about biogel and had then forgotten. But ''why?'' There seemed to be no sane ''purpose'' for any of this.

"Now, obviously you won't accept it right away, of course," Paul continued with a flash of a winning smile. "I understand it'll take some time for it to properly sink in. But we're going to help you along, oh yes. You're part of a bigger plan here. If you go along with it, ultimately, I think you'll come to like it." Paul paused, then added "for now, though, I'll just suggest that you not try anything stupid like trying to get out of your pens or hurting yourselves or anything like that. It won't work. Now. Any questions?"

Even if Cal had been able to talk he was still too overwhelmed to seriously think of any, and from the general stunned silence it seemed that so was everyone else. He just let out a strained whicker under his breath and shook his head a twitch.

"Good. Now, day one on the agenda is pretty light stuff; just the basics to keep you sane. I'll set your stall doors to mirror mode so you can all get a nice, good look at yourselves. Get to know yourselves all over again. Food will be along shortly, you will be hungry after all this exertion. Then, walking lessons." And with that Paul toggled a control and the clear pane in front of Cal turned reflective.

Cal reflexively clamped his eyes shut and averted his gaze, nearly falling over. From the disbelieving or angry whinnies coming from around him his reaction seemed not terribly unusual. But after a moment he realized how silly he was being and cautiously cracked an eye.

The strange pastel-blue creature looking back at him was a sight to behold. It was a well-blended hybrid of woman and horse. Or, given its small size, a pony. The limbs were not completely equine but were equine enough to do the job. The torso was not completely human, but again, quite enough to do the job. Its head and face were a more even blend, neither horse nor human but somewhere in between... with an abundantly flowing green mane that cascaded down its neck, and large blue eyes with thick black lashes. It was a disturbingly beautiful creature. And it was ''him.''

Cal felt his legs trembling - all four of them. He closed his eyes again and sank to the padded floor to rest both his mind and his body for a bit.

Perhaps it was an aftereffect of being stunned, or perhaps he was simply exhausted. Despite the background noise of distressed equines and the distracting feelings of his own body he somehow managed to doze off.

{{Separator|x}}

He was awakened again a short time later, or at least he assumed it was a short time later, by the arrival of people bearing food. The still-mirrorlike door of the stall retracted down far enough to allow the jumpsuited worker to lean over and set two buckets down on the floor inside.

Cal had curled up against the base of the far wall, perhaps subconsciously huddling as far away from his reflection as he could. The thought of perhaps lunging for the lowered doorway flitted briefly through his mind, but he stifled it with barely more than a twitch. It wouldn't do him any good to try, he was sure. Instead, he waited for the man to move on to the next stall and then carefully rose to his hooves.

Panic wasn't driving him this time so it took a few minutes to stop wobbling. It was strange. It felt so much like his proper limbs were still hidden inside the blue outer skin somehow, right down to his fingers and toes, but they refused to ''move'' the proper way. He didn't try standing up on his hind legs again, he knew that just wouldn't work out right. Besides, his goal was on the floor.

A wonderful smell was wafting from the bucket, and Cal was ''hungry.'' He tottered forward, rubbery hooves silent on the soft padding of the floor and avoiding meeting the gaze of the of the colorful equine creature approaching in the mirror to meet him. He focused on the buckets. One was half-full of water, the other was half-full of tiny pale flakes... rolled oats. Horse fodder.

Cal's stomach growled, evidently not caring, and he couldn't find any good reason to overrule it. Cal dipped his head and ate ravenously. When he got down to licking the bottom of the bucket he had to crouch slightly, his neck and muzzle weren't quite long enough to reach the floor, but it was not at all awkward. He followed up with an equally deep drink of water to wash it all down, then stepped back with a sigh. He was feeling a little better now. Still not right, but a better not-right...

"Alright, girls!" Cal's ears flicked up in surprise and then flattened in alarm as he recognized the voice; it was Eileen. He took a step back, bumping his hindquarters into the wall. "Don't expect me to be personally training you ponies like this often," Eileen continued imperiously as she paced in front of the stalls. "You are, after all, not worth my time. Andrea here will be in charge of you most of the time," she indicated her silent young companion with the severely cropped hairstyle. "But since you're brand new I felt you warranted a personal touch. So that we can all get to know each other, as it were. And get to know your places. Can I get a whinny of appreciation?"

She happened to stop pacing right in front of Cal's stall, looking in at him with a smile that made Cal cringe. Cal nearly panicked, but in the process he let out a strangled whimper that seemed to satisfy Eileen's definition of a whinny under the circumstances. Her smile widened. "Good! I like you." Then to Cal's relief she resumed walking down to the far end of the row of stalls. "I like you all. So, let's all get to know each other. As you know, my name's Eileen. Not that it matters to you since you can't speak it. And you are?"

Whatever poor soul she'd stopped in front of this time let out a strange sort of whuffle, perhaps an attempt to say his name, perhaps just an attempt to call Eileen an unflattering one. Either way, Eileen just laughed. "Don't worry, that doesn't matter either. I know what you're all named. You're Applejoy." She resumed walking back along the row of stalls. "You're Moondancer, you're Honeydew, you're Meadowbrook, you're Seashell, you're Petaldove, and you're Black Cherry."

''Seashell. She's calling me Seashell?'' He opened his mouth, perhaps intending to voice some sort of objection or correction, and then froze as he realized how pointless that was. His heart started hammering hard inside his chest again and he dropped his eyes back to the reflection in the mirror again, unwillingly meeting her gaze.

"That's what ''I'' will call you, at any rate," Eileen said as she walked back to the middle of the room outside. "And what anyone else will call you from now on. So that's your name. Remember it, if you don't respond to it you'll be punished. So then. Introductions." The mirror in front of Cal faded to transparency, causing him to flinch back from the sudden exposure to Eileen's view. ''Still naked, damnit!'' He gave the woman the best angry glare under he could manage under the circumstances.

She was holding a long, flexible-looking wand of some sort. She pointed it at one of the other stalls. "Applejoy, come here. Come here. Come ''here.''" She emphasized the last repetition with a flick of the wand and Cal heard a startled whinny from several stalls down that made him wince. "Come here, Applejoy," Eileen ordered again with a warning tone in her voice.

The pony-woman Eileen had been addressing came out of her cell, wobbling slowly along on four unfamiliar hoofed feet with a terrified expression that was clear despite her equine features. Applejoy - Cal had no other name for her so he couldn't help but think of her as that - looked almost identical to Cal in overall form but her glossy skin was bright red, her dishevelled mane and tail were lavender, and her large, soulful eyes were green. She stopped a short distance away from Eileen, only taking one more reluctant step within arm's length after another twitch of the wand to gesture her closer.

"This is Applejoy, everyone," Eileen announced as she reached out and tousled the pony-woman's hair. "She was the first to sign up, so she's first out the gate. Nice, sporty color, everyone loves red." The pony seemed frozen in place, trembling with either fear or indignation, and Cal wondered if it was possible for her blush to make her any redder. "Alright, Applejoy, you may go back to your stall now. Whoosh, whoosh." Applejoy's stumbling retreat was far from a graceful canter but it got the job done. Once she'd gone out of sight and Eileen seemed satisfied she was secure she pointed to the next stall. "Now Moondancer," she directed. "Come here."

Eileen worked her way methodically down the row bringing each one out to stand in front for all of them to see. Moondancer was a light pastel orange, Honeydew was yellow, Meadowbrook was green. All had the same equine features and incredibly shapely feminine figure; they could have been stamped out of a mold. Cal found himself wondering if any of them were really men underneath, like he was...

"Seashell," Eileen pointed. The transparent door to Cal's door dropped noiselessly into the floor and he felt a spark of terror shoot through him; it was his turn. He'd known it would come, of course, but now that it was actually ''here'' he was paralyzed with fright. Public humiliation was the most common phobia, after all - and that was ''without'' being a naked blue ponygirl. His nightmares just hadn't been creative enough to come up with this scenario before.

"Come out, Seashell..." Eileen met Cal's gaze and Cal frantically gave his head a little shake. ''No. I can't. IiiAH!'' Cal whinnied, cringing, as Eileen flicked the wand and he felt a terrible sensation shoot through him. It was a bit like an electric shock but not quite pain per se. "Come here!"

However he could describe it, it wasn't something Cal wanted to experience again. He tottered reluctantly forward to take the designated spot in front of Eileen. "Seashell," Eileen introduced. "She's looking pretty blue. But chin up, Seashell; we've got a pool here. You'll have fun at the beach."

Cal was wincing in embarrassment at the lame intro, and at the touch of Eileen's hand as she caressed the side of his neck, but his attention was mostly on the array of stalls in front of him. They were all glass-fronted right now, giving a clear view of the occupants just as they were getting a clear view of him. There were two ponygirls remaining to be introduced after him; a lavender one Cal guessed was Petaldove and a black one with a blood-red mane that must be Black Cherry. Seven in total, with one additional empty stall at the end. The extra stall reminded him of something.

"Back you go, Seashell," Eileen gave Cal a light pat on his bare buttock, interrupting his thought and making him jump forward a step with all four hooves before slinking the rest of the way back to his stall in shame. Still, standing out there had made him feel very slightly better in a perverse way; all seven of them appeared to be in the exact same boat. Perhaps they'd even been tricked in the same way Cal had been; it certainly didn't look like any of them ''wanted'' to be here like this.

The transparent stall door slid back into place, and Cal slumped to the ground while waiting for the heat to fade from his ears and his heart to stop hammering again. Two more 'introductions' to go, and then what? Hopefully some explanation for what the hell was going on. Maybe along with an explanation of how it was all just a big mistake or joke and would be over soon. He still couldn't really believe it...

"...And that's all for now," Eileen concluded as Black Cherry went back to her stall. "I'm sure we'll all get to know each other well in time. As you can see you're a beautiful bunch, you all turned out perfectly. You should be grateful." Her smirk made it clear that she knew full well that none of them were, but only a weak whickering of discontent answered her; everyone was obviously still as stunned as Cal was. "But that, too, will probably have to come with time. For now you all still just need to learn the most basic of things. You don't even know what you're ''for'' yet, do you?"

The pause was rhetorical, of course, and Eileen continued without waiting for a response from any of them. "You're pets. Toys, technically. Extremely expensive, extremely ''exclusive'' pets that I'm sure will be all the rage once word gets around about you. You're the prototypes, the floor models as it were, so you needn't worry about being sold off; we're going to be keeping you all to ourselves." She chuckled. "Bet none of you expected that to be the cumulation of your career paths, eh? But enough of that. Your old qualifications, your old ''lives'', only mattered as far as we needed to set up a plausible paper trail to make it look like you all volunteered willingly for this. From now on you're just my stable of ponygirls, and you ''will'' become willing. In time."

Cal shook his head, a general unfocused denial of the whole concept. None of it made any sense. Well, some of it didn't. He'd of course heard tales of some of the exotic playthings that the rich and powerful brought back from the Lunar colonies. He'd never imagined anything like this, but he recalled that Paul had said there was legal precedent of some sort so maybe he just hadn't been to the right parties. It was chilling to think that even if he somehow escaped the law would be ''against'' him.

''Good God, what will my parents think?'' That was all the more depressing now that it occurred to him. With the economy in collapse and his lack of prospects despite all his hard work in university, would they really believe he'd willingly thrown it all away to become ''this''?

So maybe it was all somewhat plausible after all... but Cal kept shaking his head. He had no other reaction to give.

"But before we start building the next big fad in Lunatech pets perhaps we should focus first on more immediate issues, hm?" Eileen gave her own head a little shake, bringing herself back to the matter at hand. "We need to get you girls walking without staggering like newborn foals. This'll be a bit tedious but you'll thank me for it later. We'll do this one at a time again. Applejoy?" She looked over at the red ponygirl's stall expectantly, giving a little beckoning gesture with her wand. Applejoy gave a distinctly unjoyful whimper and Eileen frowned. "Come now, Applejoy. Don't make me keep punishing you, we want to be friends."

Eileen ultimately did have to use a few flicks of the shock wand to get Applejoy to come out again and once she was out to make her walk in a slow circle around the perimeter of the stable's main room. Applejoy's eyes kept darting around, presumably in search of some opportunity for a quick escape, but they kept darting back to Eileen's wand each time; the threat was a potent one even if an opportunity did present itself. Cal wondered if she'd dare try tackling Eileen directly, even. But instead she just walked. And, after a number of circuits Cal had lost count of, she started looking noticeably more steady at it.

"Good work, Applejoy," Eileen eventually praised her. "The reflexes are all programmed in, I'm told it's just a matter of learning to let them guide you. C'mere." When Applejoy timidly approached Eileen she reached out to ruffle her hair again with one hand, then took a small pellet of some sort out of her pocket with the other and palmed it up against the ponygirl's lips with the other. Not only did the move catch Applejoy sufficiently off-guard to prevent her from pulling away she reflexively took the thing into her mouth and bit down on it before she started spitting and coughing in alarm.

Eileen laughed. "Come now, a pony who doesn't like sugarcubes? Like I said, I don't want to just rely on punishment to keep you girls in line. Be nice and you'll get rewards too." Applejoy finished clearing the remains of the sugarcube from her mouth and just glared up at Eileen reproachfully, causing Eileen to laugh again. "Very well, then. We'll do other gaits another time, let's get your sisters walking as good as you first. Shoo on back to your stall. Moondancer? You're next."

It would be a long wait before Cal's turn and as far as he was concerned the longer the better. Cal settled down on the padded floor, trying to find a good resting position that worked with the way his limbs folded and wouldn't squash his breasts so much that he had to be aware of them. Maybe if he had some time to think, he could think of some way out...

{{Separator|x}}

"Seashell?"

Cal's ears flicked but he stayed curled on the floor of his stall with his eyes closed. He'd learned a lot about his limits over the past two days, and also a few things about how to bend those limits. He could both walk and canter with aplomb now, though the latter set his breasts bouncing in a way he didn't much care for. He had learned how to pee without getting any on his legs, and defecate without getting any in his tail; both vital skills despite how he hated having to use them. And he'd learned that the trainers always called his name at least twice before they would consider using the shock crop.

"Seashell!" The inflection in Andrea's voice meant business that time; Cal reluctantly opened his eyes and raised his head. Andrea was stricter than Eileen but was more impersonal. Cal hadn't yet decided which approach he actually preferred. With Andrea he got the impression that she didn't really think of him as a person, but with Eileen she knew he was a person and seemed to greatly enjoy humiliating him.

"Get up and follow me," Andrea directed. "It's your turn."

They'd been taking random ponies out of the stable one by one all day. With no explanation to the ones left behind, as usual. They'd always been brought back before the next one was taken, looking shaken and in a few cases a little wobbly but otherwise not harmed, so Cal had tried not to let himself fret about it and had actually managed to rest a bit. Still, there was certainly a sense of foreboding as he climbed to his hooves and reluctantly fell in line behind Andrea.

They went out through the stable's side door, the one people kept coming and going from. Cal's foreboding was joined by tension; he'd never been through here before and found himself mentally bracing himself for the possibility of bolting. He'd have to make it good, he had no idea what the limit on the range of those shock crops were...

The room beyond was a disappointment, a small antechamber with cabinets on the walls. "Stand there," Andrea told him, and Cal stood in the middle of the room with his tail nervously swishing. That tail was only vaguely under his control, it gave away his emotions far too readily.

The cabinets each had small signs with writing on them in a bizarre angular script that Cal had glimpsed a few times so far but yet to figure out the meaning of; similar signs were on the outside of the doors of their stalls when they were closed and opaque. He tried quickly counting the cabinets but was too distracted by Andrea opening one of them to finish. A variety of items hung on hooks inside or rested on shelves, none of them clearly recognizable at a glance. Andrea pulled out one that looked like several loops of dark blue straps fastened together with silver fixtures. She started unfastening fixtures as she turned back to Cal.

"Now hold still. This won't hurt a bit." Cal grimaced and turned his head rebelliously when Andrea brought the bridle toward him, ears burning. Though he still hadn't got over the fact that they kept him naked all the time he didn't think wearing ''that'' would be an improvement. "Seashell," Andrea chided with a reproachful tone. "Be a good girl." She reached out and took Cal's chin in hand, turning his head back.

Though Andrea's touch was light Cal reluctantly went along with it; he knew from experience that the next step after that would be a swat from the crop. It was hard to comprehend just how unpleasant that was, it didn't hurt all that much but it seemed far worse than his memory of the experience would indicate. "This is for your own good," Andrea explained as she slipped the loops of straps over Cal's muzzle and through his abundant mane. "Can't have you running off, now can we? You'll need to get used to a variety of tack at some point anyway so consider this early training." She snapped the fasteners firmly shut and Cal gave a quiet but clearly indignant whicker.

Andrea just chuckled, taking another length of strap out of the cabinet before closing it and then clipping one end to the bridle. "Come, now," she gave a light tug toward the door at the other end of the room.

Cal was startled to step out into the same room where he'd had the biogel put on him in the first place. He planted his hooves and pinned his ears in alarm, glancing around with wide eyes at the memory of what had happened here. Andrea let him pause for a moment to recover his wits before giving the lead a sharp tug to get him going again.

There were other people here. Two of the anonymous assistants he'd seen occasionally since his incarceration and 'training' had begun, and one more familiar face behind the glass of the control booth; Aayrn Singh. Cal glared in his direction and bared his teeth in the angriest expression he could manage. It didn't seem to phase the other man much.

"Manners, Seashell," Andrea gave the lead a light tug of reprimand. "Now, stand here on the platform. We've been monitoring your health remotely but it's time for a full checkup."

Cal turned his attention back to the middle of the room where the padded table he'd laid on before had been lowered almost to the ground. He considered taking the opportunity to freak out, perhaps bolt for the elevator door... but the door was closed, and out of the corner of his eye he could see Andrea's hand standing ready with the crop. He shuddered and stepped gingerly onto the platform.

They scanned him and then came forward to give him a more humiliatingly thorough personal examination. Cal held as rigidly still as possible while they ran their hands over every square inch of his sensitive synthetic skin. They pricked him with a needle and took a hefty blood sample, giving him at least the small relief that his ''blood'' was still colored the same. They checked his teeth in what was apparently standard equine procedure. And they gave him his first ever gynecological exam, perhaps the most unsettling part of the whole process.

Eventually they seemed to be finished, withdrawing to various workstations to process whatever results they'd got. Andrea had remained at Cal's side throughout, holding the bridle in one hand and occasionally stroking his mane with the other while giving meaningless words of encouragement. He'd been growing quite resentful of the treatment and now that the exam was over wanted nothing more than to get back to the relative privacy of his stall; the possibility of making a break for it just didn't seem strong enough yet to hold his hope right now. But Andrea continued to hold him there while the others worked so evidently there was something more he was needed for.

It was Singh himself who came forward next, carrying a small case with him. Cal's ears flicked back and he gave a quietly menacing whuffle deep in his throat, giving the man pause. "You've got her under control?" He asked Andrea.

Andrea smiled, giving the bridle a cautioning tug. "She's behaving herself. Aren't you, Seashell?" She pulled out a sugar pellet from the pouch on her belt and held it in her palm. Cal's grumble died as he stretched to snatch the thing up with his lips. The sweet burst in his mouth was wonderful and terrible - just as he'd found the seemingly mild shocks from the crop to be irresistibly unpleasant, these treats seemed to bypass his rational mind as well. Once he'd had a few it had become almost impossible to resist the offer.

"Alright, let's start with her right fore, then." He opened the case and took out a blue horseshoe.

It was only the lingering sugar rush that kept Cal from trying to yank away from Andrea's grip. His look of fright was still plenty obvious, though, and Andrea started stroking his neck reassuringly. "Hey, it's okay, shh. Hey. Seashell?" She waited until she'd caught Cal's attention. "I don't need to explain anything to you, you understand, you need to learn to trust your masters implicitly. But this once I'll do it, just to be nice, okay? Lift your right foreleg. It won't hurt, I'll show you." Cal nodded hesitantly. For the past two days he'd just been ordered around at whim, he was starved for any sort of concession like this.

Andrea took hold of Cal's wrist and traced her finger down the skin to Cal's forehoof. He still hadn't got used to the way those things felt, he swore he still had fingers buried in there - and from what he'd glimpsed of the bone scans they'd taken of him it looked like there probably ''were'' - but the skin overtop was smooth and seamless. "You're not literally a pony, you know. You're a blend of Lunarian synthetic and human tissue, which has reshaped you to ''look'' a lot like a pony. But as you can probably tell your hooves aren't real hooves. Not like real ponies have them, anyway. They're made of slightly elastic living material. Great for hardwood floors and such but not so good on rougher ground; you'll definitely want these shoes later on. And because you're made of programmable biogel there's no need for anything as crude as ''nails'' to put them on. Watch this."

She took the horseshoe from Singh and gave Cal a good look at it. It didn't appear to be metal, perhaps some sort of ceramic instead, and as Andrea had said there didn't appear to be any holes to put nails through. The upper side of the shoe did have an very rough-looking texture to it, however. It didn't look comfortable. But before Cal could object Andrea carefully pressed it into place on the sole of Cal's hoof.

He jerked slightly, though not enough to pull free from Andrea's grip. It didn't hurt. It ''tingled''... the same sort of warm tingle he remembered from when the suit had first enveloped him. Cal watched and whickered nervously as the horseshoe seemed to settle slightly into his skin, the pastel blue tissue puckering around the edges and gripping it tightly. The feeling started to fade after a moment and Andrea let him put his forehoof back down. The shoe wasn't heavy but it noticeably deadened the texture of the platform under him.

"There, see? You're ''designed'' for this sort of accessory." It wasn't exactly a reassuring thought but Cal did admit that the process hadn't been painful... and if by some chance he did get to make a break for it, perhaps he ''would'' want these things. Despite his reluctance he lifted his other foreleg without prompting and offered it to Andrea. "Heh. Smart girl." They proceeded to install the other three shoes. ''No wonder the other ponygirls were a little wobbly when they got back from this,'' Cal realized. He had become so numb to what was going on around him that he simply hadn't noticed that they were wearing horseshoes now. Andrea wasn't holding on to his bridle directly right then so he took an experimental step to get the feel for walking on the things.

"Woah up there, Seashell," Andrea gave his lead a tug to stop him from going far. "There's one more thing. Hold still." Indeed, the case wasn't empty yet. Singh took out and unrolled a thin sheet of flexible white material, perhaps a foot square, and stepped around behind Cal. Cal whickered and arched his tail nervously as the man placed it flat against Cal's right hip, smoothing the clinging material onto his skin. Some sort of clothing...? Cal winced as another warm tingling started spreading underneath. His body was reacting to something on it.

They waited, Singh keeping an eye on his watch while the tingle grew and then slowly faded. Finally he gave himself a little nod and peeled the white sheet back off of Cal's flank. It stung just a little, as if he were pulling off a band-aid, but Cal was glad it hadn't adhered like those horseshoes had; the big white patch would have looked ridiculous and wouldn't have provided any modesty anyway.

But it had left something behind. Cal twisted his neck around and blinked, startled. There was an cartoonish drawing on his thigh, a depiction of a green clam surrounded by dapples of white foam and water. "See, that was even better than how it's done with real ponies," Andrea said smugly. "That's part of your skin now, you needn't worry about your lovely symbol wearing off. Let's get you back to the stable now and you can show it off to everyone in a bit."

They'd ''branded'' him. With a seashell, of course. Cal drooped, feeling humiliated; he logically knew how minor a change this was compared to everything else they'd done but it seemed pretty symbolic of the whole ordeal. Andrea chuckled at his reaction and then gave him a tug, getting him moving again back toward his stall. Cal didn't mind. If he couldn't run away right now, crawling back into his stall and curling up in the corner again seemed like the next best thing to do right now.

{{Separator|x}}

As Andrea had hinted at it was later that day that the seven of them finally got the opportunity to mingle. Eileen herself came down to supervise, putting somewhat of a damper on the event, but Cal tried not to care too much. It was good just being out of his stall without being the automatic center of attention in the process.

Eileen called them all out and they stepped timidly out into the stable to stand in a disordered group in front of her. "Well, you've all gone through the basics now," she told them as she began to pace. With all of them crowded together out there the room actually didn't seem that large any more and she didn't have far to walk. "And believe it or not, but really, you've all done quite well and come through the worst of it already. Some of you have been a bit more of a handful than others-" she shot a sharp glance at Meadowbrook, who met it with an only somewhat subdued defiant look "-but I think you're all ready for a little time to wind down now. Come with me."

She turned and headed for the far wall, to the large double doors that Cal hadn't seen beyond yet. When they opened he was momentarily dazzled; the light was much brighter out there. ''Out there?'' Cal's ears perked and he found himself sniffing the fresh air flowing in. He could hear ''birds.''

It wasn't Meadowbrook who bolted, oddly enough; it was Petaldove. The lavender-skinned ponygirl caught everyone by surprise since she'd been one of the more quiet and compliant of the group until now. She didn't quite slip past Eileen, though; the woman was quick with the crop and Cal winced at Petaldove's whinny. "Manners!" Eileen barked at the cowering girl, who could only mutely nod from where she lay shaking on the floor.

The false start put a further damper on any excitement among the rest of them and so when Eileen resumed walking they shuffled along past Petaldove in a disheartened column. Cal fell to the back of the line and paused when he reached the fallen pony, torn between not wanting to leave her just lying there and not wanting to get singled out by Eileen for special treatment himself. Petaldove looked up at him with frightened eyes and Cal made his decision quickly, bending down to touch Petaldove's shoulder with the tip of his nose.

It wasn't really a practical act of assistance but the gesture was enough to spark Petaldove into action and she climbed laboriously back to her feet. Once she was up Cal set off again at a bouncing trot, giving only a quick backward glance. He didn't want anyone to make a big deal of it. He heard her hooffalls trying to catch up behind him, though, and was relieved she seemed okay.

They were outdoors. There was a light breeze ruffling his mane, the ground was covered in brilliant green grass, the sky was bright and blue... Cal joined the other ponies in a moment of fearful wonderment as they looked around. Then it began to dawn on him. It was fake. The illusion was quite good, all things considered, but as far as he could tell the lab where this had been done to them was underground. As he began looking closer he could see some telltale signs, a flatness to the background behind the perimeter of trees encircling the field they were in.

"This is our own private pony park," Eileen told them. "This is where you'll get your exercise, and if you're good, your recreation. Don't bother trying to get out of it, of course. How would you like an hour or so to explore it now? Even you, Petaldove, though I'm still cross with you."

There was no reaction at first, but then perhaps sensing one was being asked for Moondancer gave a whicker and a nod. Cal and a couple of the others joined in.

"Well, good. I'm going to go have a seat over there and watch, if any of you need anything. Oh, and don't eat the grass. It's real but you're not; you may be stuck as vegetarians for life now but your digestive systems aren't quite up to that sort of roughage. If you all behave yourself there'll be lettuce for dinner." And with that Eileen headed over to a comfortable-looking armchair that was sitting beside the stable doors.

There was a long moment of awkward silence in which the seven varicolored ponygirls just stood there watching each other and wondering what they were supposed to do next. Cal took the opportunity to being checking out the symbols that had been emblazoned on their flanks. Applejoy had a rosy apple inside a heart, Black Cherry of course had a dark red cherry, Moondancer had a yellow crescent moon surrounded by small silver stars, Meadowbrook had a dragonfly perched on a blade of grass, Honeydew's yellow flank was dappled with large beads of water, and Petaldove's was - again of course - a stylized dove flying through falling petals.

Looking at his fellow sufferers right now it was very hard to keep in mind that those six exotic ponygirls were all real people just like him, perhaps even all real ''men'' just like him. Not knowing their true names made it a serious problem and no doubt they were having the same problem with him; he hated to think about how in all of their minds they were probably just thinking of him as "Seashell." ''Such a stupid name! God, who knows what they're thinking about me?''

Honeydew started making odd coughing sounds, and after a worried moment Cal realized she was trying once more to speak. It sparked off a round of bizarre equine mumbling as everyone else tried to get a word in edgewise too, but they'd been trying that sort of thing off and on for the whole time they'd been stuck in their stalls and made no more progress with it now that they were face to face. Their throats and mouths just completely refused to make the sounds they wanted them to.

''Damnit, there has to be some other way...'' An idea suddenly occurred to Cal and it surprised him that he hadn't thought of it until now. ''Well, of course. Let's do that.'' Cal glanced over to confirm that Eileen really wasn't paying very close attention and then whickered loudly to draw the attention of everyone else. When several of them looked in his direction he tapped his forehoof on the sod to direct their eyes down there. He started to trace out his name in the grass.

He stopped after the first line and frowned, suddenly confused. ''That's not right. It's...'' Was it curved? Straight? A squiggle? Cal suddenly found himself wracking his brains to remember how his name was spelled and what the letters actually looked like. He knew his name was really simple, why was this so hard? Every time he tried picturing how it was written he just got a meaningless scribble. Like the meaningless scribbles on the signs that he'd seen mounted in various places within the facility and not paid any heed to until now.

Several others seemed to get the same idea as him and started making their own attempts to write with their hooves, but from their bewildered and frustrated reactions it was obvious they were having the same problem. Cal felt his heart start hammering harder than it had since he'd first woken up like this, terrified by the implications of what was just now dawning on him. He'd forgotten how to read. Even the basic ''concept'' was hard to grasp.

The sounds of frustration and hoof-stamping were evidently noticed by Eileen, who decided the commotion warranted investigation. "What are you girls up to over there?" Everyone froze and turned to see her standing up with a disturbingly amused expression on her face. "Are you trying to dig your way out, perhaps?"

She ''knew''. Cal couldn't help it, he whinnied furiously in her direction. ''My name is Cal, damnit! Cal Montrosse!''

Eileen raised her hands in mock meekness. "Hey, now, you can't blame me for your own inabilities, can you?" But not even Eileen could keep a straight face after that and she let out a chuckle. "Well, okay. I wondered when you'd notice. You know that the effects this Lunarian biogel has had on you is way more than skin deep... Your brains are literally, physically, ''smaller'' than that of a proper human. Your heads would have been all bulgy otherwise. Not attractive at all. But advanced as it is, biogel's still not magic pixie dust; it had to do some editing to condense things down. So why not kill two birds with one stone and prune a neurological center or two that you shouldn't be using anyway?"

Eileen wound up having to drop both Applejoy and Meadowbrook with her crop before they could reach her, and gave warning jolts to each of the rest of the ponygirls to keep them at bay. Although she made a big show of how cross she was with them for their outburst and told them lettuce was off the menu after all, Cal was pretty sure that Eileen had secretly enjoyed their reaction. He reflected on the situation once he was back in his stall and had had a little time to calm down again. ''She is a sick, sick woman.'' Her husband was obviously a bit loose in the head too to be going along with this scheme, but at least he wasn't insisting on participating in person.

Cal was starting to feel desperate. The stall wasn't really big enough to pace but he managed it anyway, the motion helping in a very small way to allay the sense of claustrophobia that was closing in around him. He was totally trapped. He couldn't speak, couldn't read or write, had no hands, and even if he did get out he had no rights... the cops would just bring him right back here. And he was brightly colored and apparently couldn't even eat grass like a real pony, so even just running off into the woods and staying there was unlikely to work. ''God, to be simply unemployed and homeless...''

By the time Andrea arrived with Cal's bucket of dinnertime oats Cal had worked himself into an exhausted frazzle. Andrea sensed the dejected moon in the room immediately, it was worse than usual. "Bad time in the park?" She asked conversationally. Someone out of Cal's sight whickered and presumably nodded. "Aww. Well..." Andrea paused for a moment. "You guys got a lot of new stuff today. What's one more? Let me do something I think you'll like." She went into the antechamber and came back a moment later with a satchel over one shoulder and dragging a chair along behind her. "Who's first? Honeydew? Seashell? Seashell, you look like you could use some soothing."

Cal blinked, startled by her choice; he was sure some of the others must be in worse shape than him. He considered refusing to leave the stall, for once he thought he might actually not be punished for making a decision of his own like that. But perhaps for that very reason this seemed like an easier thing to actually go along with. Andrea suddenly seemed a lot less dangerous than the alternatives. Cal didn't ''trust'' her, of course, but...

Cal walked cautiously out of his stall to stand beside Andrea's chair in the place she indicated. Andrea rummaged through the satchel and pulled out a hairbrush. Cal actually let out a sigh of relief as Andrea began brushing his ample green mane. "You guys are actually pretty low maintenance," Andrea began idly rambling as she worked. "No fur or sweat glands on your skin means no need for rubdowns. But even hair this good can get disheveled. And any hair looks better when styled."

Actually, it ''did'' feel soothing, and with so much more hair up there than a regular pony it was good to get some of it back up out of his eyes. The brushing went quickly and then Andrea did some skillful manipulations behind Cal's field of view that felt like braiding. Cal didn't mind that either, it would keep the hair in place much longer. But then Andrea had him turn around and got to work on his tail. It was just as billowing as his mane was, requiring just as much brushing, and then when it was done Andrea reached into the satchel to pull out a long strip of bright blue cloth. With quick, deft moves Andrea wove the ribbon into the hair of Cal's tail.

Cal's surprised expression must have been comical, Andrea gave a little chuckle. She reached over and gave Cal a light pinch on the earlobe. "Looks good. Back you go, Seashell. Honeydew, you up next?" A pat on Cal's rump got him moving again and he walked hurriedly back to his stall.

When the stall door came sliding back up out of the floor it was of course set to mirror mode. As Cal had quickly suspected Andrea had woven a blue ribbon into his mane as well, fastened with some sort of hair clip or comb with a small green seashell mounted on it that was very similar to the one emblazoned on his rump. ''Crap, we get personalized jewelry too?''

Heart hammering, check... but not as hard as Cal would have expected. He was actually able to look at himself in the mirror without instantly recoiling. ''Perhaps the indignities are finally becoming ''less'' overwhelming than the previous ones,'' he mused. ''Or perhaps I'm just getting used to it. Or perhaps...'' He cocked his head and turned slightly, getting a better view along his body and swishing his tail. ''Pretty.''

''Look away. Look away. Look away.'' He tore his gaze off of himself and firmly shut his eyes. ''Come on, it's only been three days now. Don't crack up. Stockholm syndrome doesn't set in ''this'' quickly.'' He was still hungry and the scent of the bucket of oats still sitting at the side of the stall was calling to him; he decided to focus all his will on that instead. He ate his meal and ignored the sounds of the ponygirl beauty salon in operation just beyond the door.

Still, misguided though the cause might have been, Cal did feel somewhat better. At least Andrea seemed to be somewhat on his side.

{{Separator|x}}

Not much happened the next day. They were given one bland meal of oats and water and the only exercise was a little of the standard walking around in circles in the main stable room like they'd done on the previous few days while learning to control their limbs. Eileen didn't show up, to Cal's relief, and the rest of their time was spent cooped up in their stalls with nothing to do.

It would have seemed like it'd be a welcome respite but really the boredom was worse. Several of the ponies took advantage of the lack of disturbances to try to work out some sort of code of whinnies or stomps to communicate with; it was a futile effort considering the complete lack of a common starting point to build on. Cal didn't bother participating and just stewed within his own mind, probing for weaknesses.

The situation he was in just didn't make sense. He had plenty of time to think about it now, and despite all the things he knew he didn't know - even knowing that his own mental functioning might be impaired - he couldn't imagine how he and the other rubbery pony-girls could be used to turn a profit for Sandes. Eileen seemed to be inordinately fond of the process on a personal level, sure, but they were supposed to be ''prototypes.'' How many people out there could be both kinked in exactly the right way to want something like him as a 'pet' and also have enough money to afford Lunar imports? Especially during the next few years of netdeath?

The day passed, and to Cal's relief nothing worse than the usual minor humiliations and impositions happened to him - there were no more major revelations or abortive uprisings. All in all he counted that day as a draw.

The next day proved to be a bit more interesting. Eileen arrived shortly after they'd all been roused with another meal, and this time she carried a soccer ball tucked under one arm. "Good morning, girls," Eileen greeted them. "Is everyone feeling better today? Ready to get back out into the park?" She seemed to be in a good mood and the seven of them gave a cautious equine murmuring in response.

"Well, good," Eileen continued. "Last time I let you out you misbehaved, but just to show you that I'm not an ogre I'll forgive you all for it this time. To make things a little easier I've got a special activity planned. Everyone come on out with me." The transparent doors to their stalls slid open and Eileen gestured with her crop. She may be claiming not to be an ogre, but everyone knew how quick she was to employ the uncomfortable touch of that thing if they stepped out of line so all seven followed with varying degrees of trepidation through the doors into the artificial outdoors. Petaldove made a point of hurrying over to walk next to Cal, who swished his tail nervously but let her stay close; she seemed to have decided Cal was her best friend and he didn't have any real reason to shy away.

The small field was much as they'd left it, with one minor addition; at each end a pair of flags had been set up, red and green, marking two goal lines. Cal eyed the soccer ball Eileen was holding and flicked his ears. ''You're kidding?''

"You girls have become quite good at walking around on all fours," Eileen told them. "I'm quite pleased with how your new musculature and bone structure has worked out. But just walking in circles around that little room is only going to go so far, don't you think? Today, if you behave yourselves well, we're going to get a little exercise and learn how to ''really'' move. Who's up for a little game?"

Cal had to admit that he was surprised to find himself actually not hating the idea. There was a general murmur among the ponies and he gave a restrained whicker of his own.

Eileen nodded and held up the ball. "Now, there's not enough of you for a traditional game of soccer, obviously. And the rules aren't perfect for ponies either. So we're going to play ponyball, which is much simpler. We'll divide you up into two teams and then you'll each try to kick the ball through the other team's goal for a while. Whichever team scores more goals wins sugar lumps and praise. Then we'll reshuffle the teams and play again. Okay?"

It actually sounded much stupider when said out loud, and everyone seemed to realize it; the group of ponies shuffled uncertainly. But Eileen was undeterred. "Okay. Red team! Honeydew, Moondancer, and Meadowbrook, over here. Green team, Black Cherry, Applejoy, and Petaldove, over here." She gestured with her crop, and even though she wasn't using its shock power everyone flinched and moved into the groups indicated. Petaldove started to move as well but then stopped, looking back at Cal with a puzzled whicker.

Cal was momentarily puzzled himself. ''She didn't say my name. Which team am I...?'' It took a moment for it to dawn on him that seven couldn't be divided evenly into two groups, there would always be one left over. His ears flattened and flushed in embarrassment as he realized how such a basic bit of math had been non-obvious. ''Another unnecessary neurological center, I guess.''

"Shoo," Eileen gestured for Petaldove to hurry up and the lavender pony-girl flinched away to hurriedly join her team. "Now now, don't be sad, Seashell," she admonished. "You'll get your turn. We'll play seven rounds so everyone gets equal time. But right now we don't have the right number of ponies so you get to be the referee. It's very simple too. Here, take this." Eileen bent down and proffered a large but otherwise normal-looking ref's whistle. Cal looked at her like she'd gone completely mad, and Eileen chuckled. But she was insistent and after a firmer repeat of the offer Cal gingerly took hold of the thing in his lips. Eileen tweaked his nose and he snorted, giving the whistle an inadvertent trill that elicited another chuckle. "Just give that a blow whenever the ball goes through a goal, or goes too far out of bounds. We'll stop play and move the ball back to the middle of the field, then blow it again to restart the game. Do a good job and you'll get a sugar lump too."

Cal felt acutely self-conscious with everyone's attention focused on him. ''They're all naked too,'' he reminded himself, a thought which turned out not to help reduce his blush any. Eileen headed out to the middle of the field and took them all in tow. She put the ball down and retreated back to the sidelines. "Alright, Seashell! Blow the whistle!"

Not wanting to leave everyone hanging, waiting on him, Cal gave the whistle a good hard blow. Six colorful pairs of pony ears flattened against their skulls and everyone stood motionless, watching each other pensively. Cal imagined he could read their expressions pretty well; they were all thinking some variation on how stupid or demeaning this was, none of them wanting to make the first move.

But they'd all also been cooped up in their stalls for days on end and despite what had happened the first time they'd all been anticipating the return to this park. So it was actually a relief when Moondancer suddenly broke the impasse with a fearsome whinny. She lunged forward and gave the ball a clumsy kick with her forehoof, sending it bouncing between the startled legs of the green team.

Though the ice was broken the game was quite awkward and half-hearted at first. None of them had ever really run in their new forms before and the motivation to do so now was almost surreal; they were ponies being forced to play ''soccer.'' Meadowbrook and Petaldove barely participated - Meadowbrook apparently out of anger and Petaldove out of acute shyness - and even Cal was too distracted to blow his whistle the first few times he was supposed to. But to everyone's surprise Eileen didn't admonish them for their failings, just watching from the sidelines with the occasional laugh, and somehow that actually made it a little easier to get into things.

By the time Eileen waved a black and white checkered flag to indicate the end of the game enough goals had been scored that Cal had lost track of them. "Good effort, most of you!" Eileen called out. "Red team wins!" ''Fair enough,'' Cal decided; it didn't really matter anyway, the only reward was sugar lumps and none of them were keen to claim them. Everyone just stood where they'd stopped in the field after the last goal, waiting for some indication of what was to come next. Eileen gave another little chuckle. "Alright, don't all go nuts, it's just a game. For round two, Seashell, you'll swap with Black Cherry. Go give her the ref's whistle."

''Well, okay...'' Cal turned to meet Black Cherry as she walked up to him. The exchange was awkward; Cal didn't want to just spit the thing out onto the ground but trying to pass the whistle directly from mouth to mouth was just plain weird. Cal could tell that if the other pony-girl's glossy skin hadn't been black she'd be blushing just as fiercely as Cal was afterward. He trotted over to his new teammates. Applejoy was still breathing hard from the running she'd been doing and didn't pay Cal much heed but Petaldove was obviously quite happy to welcome him.

Just a few days ago Cal had been hoping to become an astronaut. There would have no doubt been all sorts of strenuous physical training and odd experiences learning to cope with zero G, and he had been looking forward to the novelty. So when he found that it was actually kind of interesting learning to cope with the changes to his body - the bounce of his synthetic breasts as he ran, the odd joints and altered muscles, the pseudo-hooves - and that after a while the game actually started to be ''fun...'' it kind of made sense in a weird and unsettling sort of way.

They played the full set of seven games. The rotation of the ponygirls through the teams thoroughly shuffled them so there was no way to determine who among them had wound up winning the most, but that hardly seemed to be the real point of the exercise. Indeed, the point seemed to be mostly just the exercise itself. Cal got a lot of it, left panting vigorously by the end and feeling a pleasant sort of muscle fatigue. It was only much later after he'd come down from the runner's high that he realized with some chagrin that most of the others hadn't quite got into it as much as he had.

Still, even the most recalcitrant of the ponygirls had wound up apparently getting ''some'' enjoyment out of the experience. If nothing else it got them out of the bland confinement of their stalls, and afterward they were treated to a feast of tasty lettuce and apple slices - much better than the usual rolled oat fare. The next day Andrea showed up with the soccer ball and this time she let them organize themselves, making the experience more of a social one than a formal exercise. Cal enjoyed it even more the second time.

It was something Cal could actually ''do''. As he became adept at kicking the ball around with all four of his feet and running around the field in pursuit he even began to feel a little bit comfortable with how his new body was working. He still didn't want it, of course, but since he was stuck with it...

{{Separator|x}}

The days began to blend together. Time was marked by tournaments of 'ponyball,' by Andrea's skillful grooming, by Eileen's steadily stricter and more elaborate training in dressage. Cal had no idea whether real ponies had to put up with some of the stuff they went through, but decided in the end that he didn't really care. They weren't real ponies and they had to put up with it.

Slowly but surely they were learning to do just that. The bizarre routine was actually becoming... well, ''routine.''

They no longer spent much effort trying to redevelop their language capabilities, finding their more limited whickers and nonverbal cues sufficient for most purposes. Cal was even starting to get used to prancing around with nothing but ribbons and a bridle for modesty. He blamed the mirroring of his stall door for that; every day had many hours where there was little else to distract him but his own cartoonishly cute reflection. He couldn't spend all his time ''hating'' it, after all... it was him. ''She'' was him.

The damage to specific aspects of his neurology aside Cal was sure that she was still just as smart as he'd been before. She knew full well the state he was slipping into and underneath it all she clung to her old human personhood with grim determination. She could tell that most of the others knew it too, with the possible exception of Petaldove who had dived right into the role of a fawning submissive with all four feet. Meadowbrook, Applejoy, and Black Cherry had even formed a sort of impromptu resistance movement that included such acts of supreme rebellion as stepping on toes with all the force their rubbery hooves could muster and making inordinate messes for the impassive technicians to clean up. It was the most they could really do - even without Eileen's shock crop standing ready in punishment some sort of deep-programmed safety conditioning kicked in whenever one of them tried to get ''really'' violent and blunted the attempt with a surge of fear.

Cal found himself wavering somewhere in the middle. There seemed to be little benefit to causing such petty trouble, but he wasn't ready to just give up. He dreamed that someone somewhere out in the real world had developed suspicions about the group of people who'd spontaneously 'volunteered' to sign their human rights away. Maybe the Sandes couple's claims and his own recollections about the properties of hybridizing biogel were faulty, and there was still some way to undo this. Or even just get ''out'' of here, out of this small stable and fake meadow and pointless pony play, to somewhere a little more like his former life...

It was starting to seem like a more distant dream with every passing day, no matter how hard he clung to it. Did it even really matter to them what he thought? They certainly didn't seem too concerned about that. Eileen continued to 'train' them, even though by now they were all quite steady on their hooves and even becoming pretty decent at playing that ridiculous game of ponyball when they put their minds to it. Andrea continued grooming them with expert care, the technicians came and went.

As far as everyone seemed to be concerned, everything was going according to plan. Yet something still gnawed at her, a conviction that there was a remaining shoe yet to drop. This couldn't be what her whole life was going to be about from now on, was it? Something was missing beyond the obvious, something she hadn't quite figured out.

It was almost a welcome relief, then, when one day the routine was broken. There was no clock in the room and Cal suspected she wouldn't have been able to read one anyway, but although she'd lost track of how many days she'd been there - she guessed two weeks or so - she and the other ponies had developed a keen awareness of time on a shorter scale. They'd had breakfast, it was time for Andrea to come in and get them ready for Eileen. But neither showed. Minutes stretched as Cal stood at the gate of her stall, swishing her tail and flicking her ears at the unsettled sounds the others were making.

The stable's side door - the 'human entrance', as Cal had come to think of it - slid open and Cal cocked her head with a nervous whicker. It was Paul Sandes, flanked by a pair of medical technicians. She hadn't seen Paul since her very first day as a pony, hadn't even ''thought'' about him in almost as long. As he walked out into the stable it all came rushing back, though, and her ears flattened against her skull with the memory of what the man had done to him.

And also with the worry of what he was going to do to them now...

Before the tension could stretch any farther Paul turned and addressed them with a disarmingly cheerful tone. "You've all done very well," he began. "Your physical integration already finished quite a while ago, of course. The medtechs have really just been watching to make sure your bodies were perfectly locked and stable. But I've been hearing reports from my wife too, of a less technical nature." He gave a chuckle. "You've become quite proper ponies under her tutelage."

Cal blushed under his pastel blue skin and silently fretted over whether it was out of embarrassment or pride - she wasn't really certain. But Paul continued speaking and she knew this was more important to pay attention to than yet another bout of introspection.

"I feel I should apologize once more," Paul admitted. "I didn't realize how much personal interest Eileen had in this project. I mean, sure, obviously she had interest. And you're as much a gift to her as an investment for me. But considering how much attention she's lavished on all this unnecessary training I'm almost jealous of you guys. Heh." He gave a wry grin. "Perhaps I should have started worrying back when she picked only handsome men from the list of candidates."

''Well ''that'' revelation is a bit of jarring cognitive dissonance,'' Cal thought to herself with a whicker. She'd figured at least some of her compatriots must have been male to begin with too, but she'd known them the way they were now for so long that she had a hard time imagining any of them as anything else. Hell, by now even ''herself''...

"But regardless, what's done is done," Paul shook his head. "And I'm kind of falling into it myself by even bothering to tell you all this, right? You girls... you Lunarian pony-pets, you're just a valuable product. Now it's my turn to try to make you productive for a while. Seashell," he gestured in Cal's direction.

Cal jumped at the sound of her name. ''Me?'' The transparent stall door slid down and the two technicians advanced, confirming that there was no mistake. She cringed. ''Why me, and what for?''

No answer was forthcoming as a lead was clipped to Cal's halter and she was drawn reluctantly out of her stall to the middle of the room. They began working her over in a distressingly businesslike manner - disentangling Andrea's ribbons from her hair, refastening her billowing tail with a rubber band instead, then finally holding her head immobile while squirting a small amount of candy-flavored liquid into her mouth with a syringe. She swallowed reflexively and whickered in displeasure. "Just to help you relax," the technician who'd administered the medication murmured.

The comment didn't exactly help produce that effect. Cal licked her lips and glanced at her stablemates, who were all watching with just as much nervousness apparent in their equine expressions. Cal blushed, a warm flush spreading through her body.

Was Paul going to rape her? It really didn't seem likely, it didn't fit his attitude at all. But once the thought crossed Cal's mind she had a hard time dismissing it. One of her obvious purposes ''was'' as a sex toy, after all. She'd counted herself lucky that Eileen's taste for humiliating them hadn't included any of that sort of thing so far. But Paul was a different person. A strong, powerful, handsome man...

Cal's blush deepened and muscles in her hindquarters twitched involuntarily. A very strange feeling was rapidly overcoming her, a sort of horniness she'd never experienced before. She'd thought about sex occasionally since her transformation, of course, it would have been impossible not to with a body like hers. But now she found herself wanting it... almost ''craving'' it. ''What was in that drug?''

The technician who'd been holding a monitoring device near Cal's body gave Paul a nod. "She's exactly on spec."

Paul nodded back. "Good. Alright, let's bring in Sparkledust." He turned toward the human entrance and Cal looked up, pulling her attention out of her own rebellious body to see what walked in. A third technician came through the door and plodding along docily behind him was a biogel pony-creature that Cal had never seen before.

Sparkledust's glossy skin was pure white, flecked on flank and cheek with speckles of glitter, and the billowing mane and tail were cotton-candy pink; it was the most eye-catching color combination yet. But that wasn't what elicited Cal's startled gasp and half-step backward. Sparkledust was ''male''. Quite obviously so. There were no large and shapely breasts hanging from his chest like the rest of them sported, just well-defined pectoral muscles. An obvious pair of testicles and a glossy white sheath hung between his legs instead.

"Steady, Seashell," Paul put a hand on Cal's head and gripped her mane lightly to prevent further retreat. Not that she likely could have managed it. Sparkledust had a dazed expression on his equine face as he regarded them and Cal figured her own expression must have been a near match. Part of her mind was screaming at her to run but that part wasn't able to seize control of her legs right now. She let out a quiet whimper.

The male pony blinked and he halted in confusion, his own impulses apparently conflicted as well. But the technician nudged him forward and he stumbled ahead until the two of them were face to face.

"What do you think of my own little project, Seashell?" Paul asked with low-key but obvious pride. "Not as much demand for the male models, but apparently enough that the code did exist in the biogel units we bought. Just like real living animals, undifferentiated biogel's capable of going either way with the right triggers. We've managed to unlock rather a lot. Those Lunarians have become complacent about keeping their edge."

Cal was having a hard time concentrating on Paul's rambling explanation, important though it probably was. She and Sparkledust were too busy focusing their attention on each other.

''He's frightened too.'' The scream-and-run part of Cal's mind eased its grip on her other thought processes at that realization. Sparkledust might have been male but his timid, trembling demeanour put Cal oddly at ease. ''He must have been trapped just like the rest of us, just kept separate until now.'' Maybe he didn't even know what little Cal did about what was going on. Cal whickered sympathetically and reached out to gently bump noses with him.

That was possibly a bad move. The velvety-soft touch sent a heated shudder through Cal's nethers and they both flared their nostrils as they caught each others' scent. ''And he's drugged too,'' it dawned on Cal too late. Sparkledust took a hesitant step forward, nuzzling at Cal's neck, and she could only arch coyly in response - her more resistive side had already lost what little say it might have in how her synthetic body was reacting to its chemical programming. The two of them had met only moments ago and they were already locked into some sort of full-blown courtship ritual.

"There, now, that's a good pair of ponies," Paul murmured with satisfaction as he and the small squadron of technicians moved back to give them room. He raised his voice to address the other ponygirls; "The rest of you watch this. Seashell's going to show you what you do."

It was almost enough to drive Cal's self-control back up to the rescue. She whickered indignantly, blushing fiercely as she realized what she was doing right there in front of them all - and right after they'd all finally received confirmation that she was really a guy inside, too. But Sparkledust wasn't nearly as phased by the six other pairs of ponygirl eyes watching him and kept up his gentle but insistent nuzzling down her shoulder. ''I have to step away from him. Hooves, take a step. Lift, damn you...'' It wasn't working.

Cal's eyes widened. Sliding out of Sparkledust's white sheath was the flaring head of a startlingly black - and startlingly ''big'' - equine penis. She felt her own vaginal muscles spasm at the sight, both in fear and in a perverse anticipation. Sparkledust's ceramic horseshoes clopped with increasing confidence as his body slid alongside hers and he nuzzled at the base of her tail.

Cal gasped and her tail twisted to the side in an involuntarily reflex. That was all it took to set Sparkledust the rest of the way off; he turned around and reared up behind her, forelegs coming down around her ribcage and chest resting solidly on her back. She felt the firm rubbery heat of Sparkledust's cock press up against her belly and the liquid-hot slipperiness of her own arousal responding.

"Heh. He missed," One of the technicians chuckled as he and a partner came forward. They tugged back on Sparkledust, pulling him slightly off of Cal, and both of them whinnied their objection as they took that moment of unintended help to draw back from the abyss their bodies were falling into. But then one of the techs reached down and took hold of Sparkledust's shaft, manhandling the swelling tip of his member into position between Cal's legs.

She'd had stuff shoved up there during gynecological exams, of course, but this was different. Both foreign and familiar. Cal found herself relieved that there wasn't any pain, nor was there a mind-blowing wave of pleasure - just an urgent need and the strange frictional pressure of it being filled. Sparkledust had a somewhat stronger reaction, grunting and gasping as he shuddered on her back. But Cal had braced herself and bore him resolutely, eyes closed to keep from accidentally meeting the gazes of any of her friends and having to wonder what they were thinking of her. Setting aside how creepily involuntary the whole thing was it actually felt kind of good. The mildness of Cal's reaction was perhaps the most surprising thing to her.

The mating went on for an inordinately long time. After a while Cal began to wonder if perhaps Paul hadn't accounted for the fact that both Cal and Sparkledust were presumably designed to have sex on demand with high endurance, and had given them overdoses of whatever that sweet-tasting aphrodisiac had been. But eventually one of the technicians who had continued to monitor her impassively throughout the entire ordeal looked up from his palm display. "Looks like they've locked," he announced. One of the others moved forward to squirt a dose of some other fluid into Sparkledust's gasping mouth and, just a few more thrusts after he'd swallowed it, his pace finally slowed. The two of them reluctantly slid apart.

Even being on the receiving end had been tiring after that long, her own inner muscles having reflexively squeezed against every push, and Cal was left panting almost as badly as Sparkledust. She just stood there quiescently while the techs checked her out again. She didn't want to think, didn't want to feel, she just wanted to go back to her stall now.

''I'm sorry,'' Sparkledust nosed her lightly on the neck. Cal flicked her ears and surprised herself by not shying away. ''It's not your fault,'' she sighed inwardly. ''Guess that's the last piece of the puzzle after all. Paul's going to breed us.''

"No, no more for now, Sparkledust," Paul chuckled in apparent misunderstanding of the ponyboy's gesture. "Gave my boy quite the workout there, Seashell. Everyone, take five. Show Sparkledust to his stall at the end. Let's monitor this a little before progressing further."

Cal needed no further prompting than that to return to her own stall. She suddenly had a whole lot more to think about now.

{{Separator|x}}

True to Paul's word, Cal wound up with a medical band strapped around her midsection for the rest of the day and it wasn't until the next morning that Sparkledust's next partner was chosen.

It was a day spent deep in thought and turmoil. Cal had already known she was slipping into some form of acceptance, limited though it may be - the fact that she had already started mentally referring to herself as a 'herself' even before Sparkledust had shown up was the most obvious sign. But her lack of a mental breakdown after the mating seemed worse somehow.

''I should be freaking out completely,'' she addressed the adorable blue pony in her mirror. ''I'm a human guy and I just got raped by a stallion... sort of a stallion, anyway.'' The term seemed too grandiose to apply to a creature with pink hair. ''But I'm not. Yeah, I'm unsettled. Yeah, I don't have a clue how to deal with the possibility I'm... yeah.'' She shook her head. One freakout subject at a time, please.

Despite all that it came down to one basic realization. She wasn't worrying about her human future any more, what the friends and family she'd had before might think. Though Paul and Eileen had both delighted in reminding her of the fact it was only just now that she realized it had sunk in. Her future was as a pony.

A semi-synthetic hybridized Lunarian biogel sex-pet pony, to be specific. That's what she was.

So, what sort of future could that have? The options didn't look good and the choice wasn't really hers to make anyway. A fetish plaything for Eileen, a brood mare for Paul.

Not good at all.

She slept soundly, though, exhausted from her ordeal. She woke famished and was pleasantly surprised by the menu for the day; salad with actual salad dressing, ''cooked'' broccoli, mashed potatoes, and some sort of actual bread-like cake substance for dessert. ''Score one for Paul,'' she grudgingly admitted as she stuffed herself. Eileen had kept them on a diet more closely suited to a real farm animal's, even at the best of times the vegetables had just been served in a raw pile.

And then it was Moondancer's turn to be mated. Cal was actually still finishing off her food when Sparkledust was brought out to mount her. Paul supervised the process again, but it actually went less smoothly than Cal's had; perhaps because she'd been forewarned Moondancer fought more vigorously. She made the technicians physically restrain her until she was dosed up on that syrupy aphrodisiac, and then made poor Sparkledust follow her awkwardly around the room a few times before finally giving in to her own induced desire.

Had she not gone through that herself just yesterday she would perhaps have found it a little arousing, even. But as it was it just triggered an uneasy churning in her gut and made her feel bad for the other girls that would spend each day wondering when their turn would come.

Despair and resignation were tempting her. But sex-pony though she may be, she was a sex-pony with a human mind and education - illiteracy aside, of course. She listened to the technicians talking amongst themselves, trying to learn more.

The Lunarians guarded the secret to synthesizing biogel jealously. Though people had bought their particular type of synthetic creature before, the male model had never been offered Earthside. It had taken the Sandes corporation years to hack the code of just one of the eight units they were working with. It seemed like a bit of a leap to assume that breeding was possible, Cal thought, but the fact that Paul had sunk so much money into the project suggested they were pretty confident of the outcome.

The uneasy churning in her gut grew worse. The next day it had solidified into a definite sense of solidity, a weight that Cal couldn't really convince herself was simply due to the extra food she'd been stuffing into her stomach.

It was Applejoy's turn for mating, they seemed to have settled on a daily schedule with those but Cal couldn't discern a pattern to who was picked just yet. Applejoy was the most troublesome yet, squealing and bucking as she tried to resist, and Sparkledust's heart wasn't in the pursuit even though his body clearly was. The technicians wound up having to catch Applejoy's bridle and hold her still.

Cal actually found herself wondering where Eileen was. She didn't miss the psychotic bitch, of course, but she had become somewhat ''used'' to her. She let them out into the fake meadow to play. Presumably the humans were reluctant to let her run about that freely in her current condition... Or perhaps there was a deeper reason.

More important than the useless tidbits of technical information Cal overheard from the medical crew that were servicing her was the tidbits of gossip that were spoken freely within earshot of 'dumb animals' such as herself. It seemed that Paul and Eileen had had a falling out of sorts - some sort of raging argument had happened about the project. Cal guessed that Paul had had enough of Eileen acting out her sick fantasies... which meant, ironically enough, that Eileen had been the one standing in between them and Sparkledust.

Cal really didn't know who to hate more at this point.

One person she ''didn't'' hate was Sparkledust himself. She could tell he was as unwilling a participant in all this as the girls were, presumably tricked into signing his life away just like they had and in not much of a better situation despite having had the fortune of retaining his manhood. Indeed, perhaps he had it worse. He was being paraded out there in front of everyone and made to mate publicly with a mare every day. Cal hoped that once they'd all had their turn he'd be allowed to stay with them, to join their little herd... though she was sure some of the other pony-girls would bear more of an irrational grudge than she did.

By day three Cal was amazed to discover that she was already showing a distinct bulge in her midsection. It felt weird to actually be ''gestating'' something in there, and it was perhaps more terrifying than anything else to date. She had a monster inside her, a mutant synthetic creature that she would have to give birth to. Would they make her nurse it? Her breasts had seemed entirely decorative dead weights until now, she had no idea if they'd actually produce milk. What would giving birth be like? Maybe she wasn't properly designed for it, maybe it would kill her or they'd have to cut her open to get it out.

But there was nothing she could do about it. And a tiny part of her was astonished to realize that with the terror came a strange sort of excitement as well. ''I'm going to have a baby. Kind of. God, I would never have imagined.''

Petaldove had her turn on day four. She went quietly, as Cal had expected, though with just as much nervousness as everyone else. Cal did her best to show an encouraging expression as her submissive friend struggled to keep eye contact with her throughout. Cal wasn't sure how she'd take to the experience but was relieved that she didn't seem any more broken afterward as she tottered back to her stall on unsteady hooves.

Black Cherry on day five. Now ''that'' was an epic show - biologically-enforced restrictions on violence or no, Cal was worried for Sparkledust's safety out there. But no hybrid pony could deny her body's wishes completely and eventually she too succumbed to the reluctant stallion's ministrations. Cal averted her eyes as respectfully as she could and hoped the rest of her stablemates were doing likewise.

Cal felt heavy. It had only taken this long for her to go from a perfectly fit, taut, feminine abdomen to obvious pregnancy. That was feminine too, perhaps, but in a distinctly different way. Cal was constantly aware of the solid round mass developing down there as she moved around the stall and was taken on twice-daily exercise walks around the stable. Like everything else it all seemed to be moving too quickly for her to do anything but be swept along.

''What will my foal be like?'' A strange question to have weighing on her mind, to be sure, but soon it was all Cal could think about.

Honeydew on day six with a half-hearted fight that was obviously more because it was expected than any other reason. Then finally Meadowbrook. Perhaps knowing that it would be her turn next gave her time to compose herself and come to terms; the green-skinned ponygirl went to her mating with a sort of resigned dignity.

And then they were done, all seven of the vari-colored ponies in progressive states of pregnancy and Sparkledust left looking a little frazzled from having made them all that way. Cal was actually pleased to see that there was no sign of his impending removal from the stable; there'd always been that one empty stall at the end so perhaps it had always been the plan for them to be kept together.

Paul's plan, at any rate. They hadn't seen hide nor hair of Eileen for a week now. Cal wondered if she should be worried, or if she should simply enjoy the break.

****

Either way, it was only two days later when Eileen made her triumphant return. A quiet groan passed among the stable's ponygirls as she swept into the room, dressed in her standard equestrian outfit and accompanied by her partner in perversion Andrea.

Eileen shot a dirty glare in Sparkledust's direction, then forced her expression back into a smile as she greeted the rest of them. "Well, girls, I'm back. As you might have guessed, my husband and I have been a little at odds over how to treat you. But we've come to a compromise, and it's good news for you all. I've made it very clear to him that while he may see you all as breeding stock, you're also all my pets and need to be treated properly as such. Are you looking forward to continuing your training?"

There were a few lacklustre whinnies in response - though there was at least one seemingly genuine one Cal guessed was from Petaldove - and Cal sighed. ''No way am I running around in this condition.'' She felt like she had swallowed a bowling ball.

Fortunately whatever deal Eileen had struck must have included some provision about that; it seemed that all Eileen and Andrea were there for that day was to give them all a thorough makeover. Their manes and tails were styled impeccably, woven with ribbons and in some cases braided, and Eileen had a new set of custom tack for each of them. Sparkledust was included in the fun and Cal fought hard to suppress a snicker; from the poor stallion's confusion it was obvious that he'd never undergone treatment like this before.

Cal actually found it kind of a relief. The accessories made her feel a little more... well, not human, obviously. But more ''civilized''.

Later that day Paul's medical team had their turn, examining them each in turn and removing some of the decorations in the process. But Andrea came down right before lights out to prepare them for their 'beauty rest' and took the opportunity to quietly explain that she'd be grooming them daily from now on.

Better than some of the alternatives, Cal reflected with a sigh. Still...

Two more days passed. Their pregnancies were progressing at such a rapid but steady pace that you could tell which order they'd mated in just by the size of their bulges, with Cal's the benchmark by which the others could be judged. It didn't hinder her movement much, having four legs was actually a big advantage now, but the shifting weight made her body feel almost as alien as it had back when she'd first transformed.

She figured she must be due soon now. The thought of actually ''giving birth'' was unnerving, and speculation about the nature of her foal became more pressing along with it. She was a synthetic life form, designed for certain specific purposes that might not include motherhood. Would she need surgery? Would the foal come bursting out of her like some sort of alien monstrosity? Would it be less human even than she herself was?

That last possibility weighed most heavily of all. She didn't want to give birth to a baby sex toy, the thought was just too creepy for words. She'd rather birth a monster than that. But despite the obviously late stage of her pregnancy she realized that she hadn't felt the foal move inside her of its own volition yet, and wondered if it would even survive. The medical staff seemed to have no particular concern whenever they hooked the scanners up to her rubbery belly but considering how little they acknowledged her at all she didn't think that meant much.

The moment came on the morning of the third day of Eileen's return. Eileen was putting the still-recalcitrant Black Cherry through a modest obedience routine out in the faux meadow while the rest of them relaxed on the grass as best as they could with their enhanced girths. Then Cal felt a strange twitch deep in her guts, followed by a more sustained and involuntary clenching of muscle. "Unf," she grunted quietly, ears flattened and eyes wide. The other ponies didn't notice her reaction and she was glad to keep it that way for the moment.

There wasn't any pain. She was immensely relieved by that; the Lunarian biology magicians who'd designed her new body had apparently had this contingency in mind after all. It didn't feel at all like she had been fearing, really - just a repeating powerful ''squeeze'' deep in her belly, and a weirdly pleasant stretching of her vaginal canal.

The other ponies were noticing that something was up now, turning to look at her, some rising ponderously to their hooves with worried or uncertain expressions on their colorful equine faces. Petaldove rushed over to Cal's side to give her a tentative but presumably supportive nuzzle on the neck and Honeydew glanced over in Eileen's direction. Cal guessed she was considering summoning the woman's attention and gave a vigorous shake of her head.

Presumably there were monitors blinking their alarm lights back in the control room but for now at least Cal had a modicum of privacy. She'd rather this experience was witnessed by as few as possible and since her herd-sisters were going to share in it themselves soon enough she didn't mind them crowding close to screen her.

''Squeeze''. Cal let out a small gasp as a particularly powerful contraction hit and there was a distinct sensation of ''sliding'' down below, of weight being lifted from her guts. It was all happening so incredibly fast, it was only a matter of minutes since the first contractions... But this was it, she was giving birth. Becoming a mother. ''Squeeze''. The pressure lifted, the stretching eased, and she heard the chuff of grass being pressed under a weight behind her. The other ponies all took a nervous step back, even Petaldove, and a whicker of alarm passed among them. Call lifted her head to peer over her pastel-blue flank to get a look at what had come out of her.

Glistening and pink... not the complex beige-pink of human skin, but artificial and glossy like she and her herdmates. But not a pony foal. The mass she'd given birth to was featureless, even now pulling from its prolate form into a more perfectly rounded sphere. A rubbery round ball of biogel exactly like the one she'd touched all those weeks ago. Cal let out a whicker of alarm and scrambled to her hooves, almost stumbling from the unexpected lightness of her body.

The ball of biogel remained nestled in the grass where it had fallen, seemingly unresponsive to the ponies that stood in a nervous circle around it. ''Now what?'' Cal wondered. ''Is it dead?'' There was an indescribably weird feeling in her guts that she suspected wasn't solely physical. She didn't know what to think.

"What are you girls up to?" Eileen called, leading Black Cherry by her reins as she approached the huddle. "Have you got something you're not supposed to- oh, Seashell!"

Cal's ears flattened. One feeling ''was'' clear, at least; she really hated that woman. And suddenly she knew exactly what she could do about it. Bounding over her biogel 'child', Cal gave it a powerful kick with her hind hoof. The ball was much heavier than the one she was used to kicking around the field but it bounced and rolled well enough, careening along the ground toward its goal. But a momentary sense of despair seized her as she realized she'd flubbed the kick, it was going wide...

Applejoy lunged to deflect the ball's course with a forehoof, setting it back on target, and then Black Cherry dove past Eileen to catch the bouncing ball with her own hoof to kick it upward. It slammed into Eileen's chest, knocking her flat on her back with its force even as she reflexively caught it.

Her hands sank into either side of the rubbery pink sphere. Eileen let out a startled scream, trying to pull free, but the biogel clung where it had touched the bare skin of her palms. It stretched gooily through her fingers, fusing them together within its grasp, and began flowing down her wrists.

Paul and his medical goons were entering the indoor meadow now. Cal's attention was largely focused on the screaming, struggling woman in front of her, but somewhere in the back of her brain she noted how Paul gestured for them to hold back as he approached his wife. "Paul!" She screamed in a panic and struggled to her knees. "Biogel! Seashell gave birth to unprimed biogel! Get it off me! Use the neutralizer, quick!" She was wearing a long-sleeved shirt but the bulge progressing up past her elbows showed the rapid progress of the material over her arms.

"What a surprise!" Paul responded. Cal's ears perked in confusion; it was clear that Paul ''wasn't'' surprised. He seemed amazingly unconcerned. Perhaps even ''pleased''. "Boys, did we bring any neutralizer?"

"Left it in the medical bay, boss," one of them responded with a scripted-sounding tone.

Paul clucked in dismay. "We'd been planning to bring the girls there for birthing. Guess there was some confusion over that."

Eileen's terrified expression darkened with a combination of confusion and fury. "You... you were ''expecting''..."

"What are you talking about?" Paul asked rhetorically. "I did my best. You're the one who broke protocol, ''modified'' protocol, all those times. Taught them all these tricks."

Eileen was speechless for a moment and the only sound was the popping of stressed seams in her clothing. The mass of biogel finished flowing onto her arms, the remaining strand between her hands suddenly separating as if she'd never held anything there before, and Eileen looked down at the hoof-like shape it was molding into over her embedded fingers. "Pink!" She exclaimed desperately. "Not ''pink'', please! Oh, God!"

Paul shrugged. "Again, how could I tell? Every color in the catalogue is in Sparkledust's genes."

Eileen spat out a few more choice words, alternating between curses and pleas for help, but the biogel soon crept out from under her collar and flowed up over her lips to muffle them. She pawed frantically at her face, having trouble reaching it as the gel began molding the bones and joints of her arms into new configurations. The glossy pink mask bulged, her neck began to stretch, and she collapsed in the meadow with a distorted whinny.

Cal and the ponies stood beside Paul and his medical team, all of them watching the transformation progress with their own private thoughts silently whirling. Then with it nearing completion Paul seemed to pull himself out of whatever he was thinking and told the team to take Cal and the rest back out to the stables. They reluctantly left him alone with his wife and the ponies reluctantly followed.

An excruciating long wait ensued as the ponies milled around in the other room, whickering and whuffling in their best equivalent to girlish gossip. Cal felt drained. She'd done to Eileen exactly what Eileen and Paul had done to her... Paul seemed to have been expecting it, though, perhaps even arranged for it to happen? Made it ''likely'', at any rate? Why? It didn't matter. She'd probably find out all the details in the weeks and months and years to come.

Finally the door opened again. Paul entered, leading the glossy pink pony with flowing lemon-yellow hair that had been his wife. She was wearing only a bridle and reins now, just like the rest of them, and had an air of utter depression as she shuffled clumsily on her unfamiliar legs. Cal felt a wave of relief at the fact that she was at least still female; the thought had crossed her mind that if Eileen had crossed the gender border like she had things could have turned out even worse for them.

"Alright, girls," Paul announced. He didn't really need to draw their attention, though, the two of them were the center of everything right now. "As you all saw, there was a terrible accident. My wife didn't read up on the medical reports, it seems. She's no longer legally a person... but it's okay, because this sort of incapacity was taken into account ahead of time, just in case. I'll be continuing to run Sandes and this program. In memory to her, though, I'll be retaining the policies she instituted for it whenever breeding cycles aren't in effect."

He gave the pink pony a grin and she responded with a pained whicker. Cal sighed. ''More pointless grooming and training. Maybe it won't be so bad. But why...?''

"There will be a small change, though. You're getting a new stablemate. Everyone, I'd like to introduce you to Bubblegum."

Now it was everyone else's turn to whicker, this time in wickedly unponylike glee. Eileen - 'Bubblegum', that is - cringed in obvious terror. ''Heh. Well...'' Cal shook her head. ''You're kind of my half-daughter, or something. And we're in this together now. I shouldn't let the others hurt you ''too'' badly.''

Cal had the upper hoof on Eileen now. Perhaps that would keep her satisfied in some small way with her life to come. The rest... she'd just have to get used to, perhaps. But holding on to this would help. She gave Bubblegum a smile as the pink ponygirl was taken away to be shod and branded.

[[Category:Martin Divo]]
[[Category:Equine]]
[[Category:Transgender]]
[[Category:Science fiction]]
[[Category:Story]]

The Mission to Delph's Hollow

2009-06-07T02:29:35Z

Martin Divo: Posting for a friend of mine who chooses to remain anonymous

{{title
|name= The Mission to Delph's Hollow
|author=Anonymous (posted by Martin Divo on request)
|user=Martin Divo}}

The word had spread through the kingdom of a new and deadly trouble. Monsters were the usual order of the day, but this, so the tale went, was different. A plague. At least that is what the clerics called it. Hidden death. Dust in the breeze. The rumors spoke of whole villages that were deserted, but none who entered the cursed realms ever returned.

That was were we came in. The king's legion. Or at least a few of the king's legion. The ones who drew the short straw, I guessed. Sent to look into the plague, and to burn the villages to the ground, should none be saved. Our leader, Rengest, was a burly fighter, a man of seemingly endless attitude, that masked a soft side. I was a fire mage, sent to burn the place as needed. We had some others; a wrinkled faced cleric, to send up her prayers for the dead, a sanguine scout, and a couple of opportunistic adventuring types. A party of fools.

When we came to the village of Delph's Hollow, we began to see some of what the rumors had hinted at. Silky threads begin to drape from the trees to the earth, where the forest began to recede. These strands became thicker, and more dense as we approached the center of the village. Unsure of what they were, I instructed our party not to touch them. It was slow going as we hopped between threads. Eventually, our less agile members chose to hold back, and I carried on alone.

The threads were a fine silver, silken lines glistening in the light. As much like cobwebs as anything, but much larger, and thicker. Dryder? Picking my way became more difficult, until suddenly the lines ceased. Ahead of me was a ring of plain earth, near the center of the town. And then... nothing? 
I had expected some large central monster, some cause of the webbing. But the threads had simply stopped, as if cut.

Curious, I examined the ground closely. While there was dirt, there were also tiny thread covered pouches mixed in with the dirt. They were nearly invisible against the ground, and seemed to be so small, and so fragile. I bent to look at them, and noticed a faint glimmer of dust around them. Certainly magical. Seeds? Eggs?

The explosion happened before I could think. A soft “Pffft”, and I had a faceful of powder. Quickly brushing it off, I stepped back, muttering a charm against disease. Another “Pfft”, and more white powder touched me. In a flash, the ground seemed to seethe, with pods disgorging their contents on me, one after another. I fell backwards, trying to get away from the danger, and landed on the thick lines of webbing surrounding the clearing. I screamed a warning to the others, and let off the best fireball that I could muster, before the poison entered my system. The blackness came quickly.

When I awoke, it was night. The village was quiet, and I could not hear my colleagues. Nor any sounds. No birds? No night-creatures? Something held me firm, and tightened uncomfortably as I wriggled, only loosening when I lay still. I could move my head, and looked around me. I was held standing, and could see great scars in the webbing of the village, from my comrades. Near me, a large wedge was hacked away, with the torn edges withered. My fireball had left a charred crater around me, where the silver threads were just beginning to repopulate. A withered corner I guessed was from the priest's blessing. Aside from their traces, there was no sign of my companions.

We need more fire then? Immolation? Will that get rid of it all? 
The intruders must be destroyed at once. Annihilated. 
I stopped, and analyzed my thoughts. Intruders? 
A vision of my comrades passed through my head. They were sitting around a small fire, talking, some distance away.

I cast my thoughts back to our mission, but a vague throbbing kept distracting me. I was injured? 
I followed the throbbing to the source. Burnt. Pain. My fireball. I had centered it on myself, but this was different. Withering. Fear.

The webbing.

My mind was being touched by the webbing? 
As if to agree, a surge of energy ran through me. I could sense the life around me, as if it was a part of me. It was feeding me, giving me strength. Healing me. 
And I could feel too, the lives of the villagers. They were taken, and made greater. One being, of many minds. They lived, and thought, in this new form. The webbing connected us, was us. 
But I was a stranger. And I had hurt the whole. I could feel the minds of the others, deliberating. “He is now of us. And so he will serve us”. The agreement flowed through the tendrils of our web, my own mind part of it.

I could feel the tendrils that bound me loosening a little, and looked down at my body. Beneath my skin, I watched as ripples of webbing flowed along my arms, binding around them, before pushing through to form a thin silvery layer under the skin. The tendrils moved on their own, but with a little thought, I could guide them. The webbing covered my torso, and I watched as it wove itself into my skin. It was painless, but permanent. I gasped, as two thick, ropy tendrils pushed from my torso. The threads wound themselves around, to make a pair of powerful looking tentacles. Even my face was changed, as I felt the webbing force itself through me. My mouth was home to a single, powerful appendage. As it grew, I choked, and coughed, before stopping abruptly. I watched, terrified, as the ropy tentacle burst from my mouth, before feeling a calming touch of the whole. My skin was rippling wildly, as small hair-like threads burst from me, covering all of me. The threads had entirely corrupted me, and the webbing released me, to let me learn my new body. I was to hunt for my people. I would help us to grow. That was to be my penance for injuring the whole.

I stumbled from my cocoon, falling over into the dirt ring. Our spores flitted over my face, and I could feel the threads in my skin growing thicker. More tendrils erupted, and I became dizzy for a moment. There was so much sight. Sound. Taste. Dawn was breaking, and the village was alive with life, vibrant. I could taste the temperature, the pollen on the breeze. Somehow the tendrils on my body gave me another dimension of knowledge. The sensations were overwhelming, and I gave in to them, lying on my back in the ring. How could I have missed this? There was no death here. No plague. Only life.

And then, as quickly as it began, it ended. The world shifted, and I could feel my tendrils pulling back. Become human? The thought crossed my mind. The thick tendrils on my torso were covered by my robe. Close-- nearly human. I reached up, and my face felt normal. No tendrils. Why had... ah. They are coming. The intruders.

“Mendrid!” 
The voice called, loud, and worried. “Mendrid?” 
Rengast the bold, my friend, and bodyguard was standing on the edge of the thick threads. 
“You alive?”

“Nope. Not really.” I laughed, feeling the seething threads beneath my skin. 
“Can you walk? I can't carry you. Too many threads.” 
“I can walk... just. Stay there, and I will come to you.”

The threads, our body, could take my companion now. He could join us, perhaps become one like me. But now was not the time. The others, they would come to burn, and gash. We must stop the others.

I walked along, but had the presence of mind to pretend to dodge the threads. They must not know, yet.

“Drydar. A big one, I guess, but I didn't see it. The ring had some kind of gas trap. I suppose the webbing should have smothered me, but I woke up too quickly. The fireball might have had something to do with it.” I lied, and hoped that my friend would believe the story.

Rengast nodded, and handed me a healing potion. The thrifty adventurer in me winced at wasting a potion, but I drank it gratefully. If I looked healthy, I might avoid the cleric's scrutiny. Rengast's strength would be welcome in the whole, but that cleric... ?

I felt pulling deep within me as we came to the edge of the webbing. I could go a little farther, but not much. A chastisement flitted across my mind. “Our people move gradually. You cannot leave the whole”. I steeled myself and kept walking, praying to whatever god might hear me that the campfire was near. If I fell, as I would soon, I didn't think that I could keep myself hidden. They would kill me, if they knew, and I was too weak to fight.

Rengast saw me stumble, and looked at me with concern. “You ok?” 
“The poison. It's out of me, but I'm still a bit weak.” 
He nodded, and picked me up without warning. “We're almost there. I'll carry you.” 
“No! Don't....” 
My tendrils lashed out instinctively, and he dropped me in surprise, staring. 
“Quiet. Please. The others. They can't know. I will be killed.”

He nodded, his face white with shock and fear. 
“What...?”

“I'm sorry. I was going to wait. There is no Drydar. Only...the webbing. I... am... “ 
In my weakened state, the threads erupted from me, writhing around my form, and the words tumbled out on their own. “They must not harm us. They will kill the village. So many of us. Not evil. Not a plague. Just... webbing.”

Rengast stepped back, shocked, and frightened. Though my body must have been nightmarish to behold, he stood still, and his eyes met mine. The trust and friendship in his expression was pure and unguarded. I squirmed under his gaze, feeling monstrous and evil. I was what we fought to purge. A monster. Perhaps even a daemon of some kind. And yet...

After a long pause, Rengast spoke. “Then I must guard it with you.”

In shock, I watched as he turned, drew his sword, and deliberately hacked at some webbing on a nearby tree. A surge of pain lanced through me, and my tendrils streaked over to bind him. The webbing stirred around us, and surrounded him, my own tendrils helping to form a cocoon to immobilize him. It was so fast. I could not think, but felt my body, and that of the whole react instantly to the intruder. His frightened eyes met mine, and I watched with amazement as the threads began to invade his form.

His body was strong, and fit. His mind frightened, but whole. He would work well as a guardian. I watched as the threads erupted from his skin to form a thin silver pelt. He gasped, and a pair of thick ropy tendrils burst from his torso. We were alike then. Both of us would have the manipulating tentacles. A second pair erupted from his back, strong, and tough. He was strong before, but the webbing had corrupted him into something formidable. The scars on his face danced with the threads beneath, and I watched the tendrils burst forth, as his mind touched mine for the first time.

“Mendrid...help...me.” 
I willed my tendrils to help with the work, and to move more quickly. To help him tap into our strength. To help him more quickly join the whole, as I did.

“Rengest. You are becoming one like me. We will guard the whole together. You are safe now.”

His mind responded, confused and frightened. I touched it, trying to calm him, and then withdrew to let him find himself.

The webbing released him quickly, and he fell to the ground, his mind spinning from his new state. I stood by him, feeling my new body stretch out and taste the surroundings. Though I was far from used to my form, I stood vigilant, ready to protect my friend while he changed.

Rengest writhed on the ground, threads flowing under his skin like snakes. As I watched, a thick rope wrapped itself around each of his arms and legs, adding strength to his muscles. He would be strong, much stronger than I. His arms were dwarfed by the now thick and muscular tentacles that penetrated his torso. His head and body was covered in a fine pelt of threads, and tendrils flowed out of where his mouth and nose were. Like me, the thread would give him all he needed from his environment, including information, and sustenance. And in return, he would guard us.

My mind drifted to the party at the campfire. What would they do when they realized Rengest had not returned? Or that both of our bodies had disappeared? Come and attack? Send for mages to burn? Clerics to “cure”?

“They are too far.” Rengest spoke out loud, but weakly, his speech a whisper of tendrils. “We cannot go to them. We will wait until they come to us.”

“And if they come to burn?”

I felt the web-life, strong within him. “We will protect the whole.”

{{DEFAULTSORT:Mission to Delph's Hollow, The}}
[[Category:Story]]
[[Category:Fantasy]]

Caught in a Bind

2009-06-07T02:22:47Z

Martin Divo: Posting another story I wrote a while back. This one's shorter and more pointless.

User:Martin Divo

2009-06-07T02:21:01Z

Martin Divo:

Haven't written a lot and most of what I've written isn't worth showing. But a few are so I'll put them here.

*[[True Reflection]] - An oldie of mine. Once once featured on a site called the "Slaughterhouse" that pointed out how cliche it was, but I happen to think cliches can be popular for a reason. :)
*[[Livremor Estate]] - This was written for a friend of mine on the occasion of her birthday. It was inspired by a pair of pictures by an artist named Baltymora, whom I can no longer easily find on the net.
*[[Caught in a Bind]] - A short story with little point or plot. I had no idea what was going on myself until it was over.
*[[Seas of the Moon]] - Inspired by a sketch.

This one was by a friend of mine who didn't want to post it anywhere, but who graciously allowed me to do so anonymously here on his or her behalf:

* [[The Mission to Delph's Hollow]]

{{author page|Martin Divo}}{{DEFAULTSORT:Martin Divo}}

Livremor Estate

2009-06-07T02:19:26Z

Martin Divo: add Category:Story

{{XXX}}

{{title
|name= Livremor Estate
|author=Martin Divo
|user=Martin Divo}}

{{separator|d|Part 1}}

The lecture droned ever on and on. Lori took notes idly, mixing in plenty of doodles and keeping an eye on the clock. Botany wasn't one of her better subjects but it was more due to lack of interest rather than the difficulty of the material.

Maria sat next to her and had her attention much more intently focused. Every once in a while a lock of her shoulder-length brown hair would slip down to hang over her notepad and she'd brush it back without breaking her writing. Lori sighed quietly. She had known Maria from other courses they took together and hoped that sharing this lecture with her would alleviate the boredom, but although the company was nice enough Maria was not much for interacting during class. Lori glanced at the clock again. Just fifteen minutes left to go on this one, then they'd have some free time.

She considered trying to get Maria to come with her to the university gym. Maria didn't really need it - the young woman was frustratingly fit and attractive for someone who didn't exercise regularly - but Lori enjoyed a good workout and had always felt Maria would too. Maria, for her part, had always declined. She considered ''that'' to be boring.

"-and so the apical cells of the peristem respond to the light, like so, causing an ataxic behavior..." Dr. Cass's explanation and chalky scribbling on the blackboard trailed off unexpectedly. Maria was too busy catching up to that point in her notes to notice but Lori cocked her head and frowned. There was a growing sound of commotion outside, people running and shouting in the hallways. The tension was infectious; something bad was going on. Dr. Cass headed over toward the lecture hall door to check on the situation.

The door slammed open before he got to it and a panicked-looking man leaned in. "Elves!" He hollered. "It's a raid!"

That caught everyone's attention, even studious Maria's. Dr. Cass immediately started trying to say something to the class - perhaps some sort of directions or reassurances - but the reaction from the students was a split second faster. He was drowned out by the sound of a hundred people jumping out of their chairs and dropping everything as they scrambled for the door to join the throng in the hall. Lori and Maria were swept up along with them as everyone in their row of seats pushed to get out.

Definitely not the sort of excitement that Lori had been hoping for. ''Oh god, an elf raid! This is serious.''

Lori grabbed Maria's hand, trying not to get separated in the jostling press of people as she forged her way through. She wasn't sure where they were going but it occurred to her that being part of the fleeing mob was probably the worst place to be. "Come on, Maria! We have to hide!" A glance back at Maria's wide-eyed expression suggested she might not have heard or understood her, so Lori kept her grip firm and pushed onward.

Elves. Just when it had seemed like science had finally triumphed and the world had become a rational, comprehensible place, ''they'' started showing up. The first well-documented raid had been almost five years ago now, a small group that had hit a mall in Kansas, but there had been vague reports from years earlier in other parts of the world that in hindsight must have been earlier scouting parties. They wore ornately-embroidered costumes reminiscent of some sort of pseudo-Victorian age and wielded stun-bows and staves as weapons.

That was all the elves needed. Despite the best efforts the nations of humanity had been able to muster, the elves were unstoppable. They had magical abilities beyond current understanding. They appeared anywhere they liked in a flash of light, bullets and other projectiles were somehow harmlessly deflected, and their own weapons' effects passed through any armor that had been tried against them. Even when all that was overcome - Lori remembered hearing about someone who'd successfully fought off an elf by using a baseball bat and a ton of chutzpah - they could retreat at will back to wherever they came from. Taking along the spoils of their raid... ''Definitely have to hide,'' Lori thought. The idea of fighting was secretly an appealing one, but fortunately realism and fear had a more solid grip on her. There was no point in fighting if they could simply avoid it.

She and Maria broke out of the main crush of students and into a stairwell that nobody else seemed to be using at the moment. They headed up the stairs. They were in the biology building, well known around campus for its confusing floor plan, and Lori had a notion of finding a deserted office to duck into. The elves would hopefully be drawn to the big, vulnerable mass of students pouring into the quad and not bother rooting around inside for stragglers. Lori bit her lip, realizing how cold-blooded the thought was. But it wasn't something she could do anything about.

"Wh-where are we going?" Maria panted, a bit winded from the climb.

Lori shook her head, realizing that they were just running aimlessly now, and grabbed the nearest doorknob at random. "Here."

It was a lab of some sort, with rows of benches and shelves cluttered with all manner of beakers and binders. Perfect. The two slipped in and slammed the door behind them.

A young man, apparently the sole occupant of the room, looked up from his desk in surprise. "Uh, hello?" Obviously he had no idea what was going on out there.

"Elf raid," Lori told him brusquely as the two of them barged through to the far end of the room. There was a window there and she wanted to see if she could catch a glimpse of what was going on outside.

"Oh. Oh!" The man leapt to his feet. "Here? Now?" Lori didn't deign to respond but Maria nodded and her obviously frightened expression convinced him they weren't lying. "Holy shit!"

"Shh!" Lori let go of Maria's hand and peered through the venetian blinds. She winced. It looked much as she'd thought it would out there; dozens of people were lying on the grass, struck down as they'd fled by bolts from elven stun-bows. A cloaked figure was walking gracefully among them, kneeling down by each in turn and doing something in the vicinity of their heads. Lori had never seen an elf before, thank God, and couldn't help but be fascinated. There was something so elegant and compelling about the way the elf moved, and the effect was even somehow enhanced by how dangerous they were...

In her distraction Lori didn't notice the man heading for the door, but Maria did. "Hey, wait," she called, catching up and grabbing his arm as he flung it open.

Lori turned just in time to see the flare of a stun-bolt envelop them both. They collapsed without a sound and Lori clapped a hand to her mouth, stifling a yelp. ''Oh god no!'' Approaching footsteps echoed in the hall outside, and then a melodious voice with a strange accent; "Finally! Accursed maze of a building!"

Lori ducked down behind one of the benches. She kept her hand over her mouth, breathing hard and in a near panic but with the presence of mind to stay absolutely silent. She heard the elf pause at the door, presumably checking the room for other occupants. After a moment, she heard a shuffle of cloth and a pair of metallic snaps.

Then she heard the elf resume walking. Lori took a moment to work up the nerve and peered around the corner. Maria and the young man were lying in a heap just outside the door, the elf having dragged them just far enough to disentangle them. Heart pounding with fear but moving as quietly as she could, Lori got up and crept toward them.

They were both completely motionless but their eyes were open and they seemed to be breathing; they were only paralyzed. Lori met Maria's pleading gaze and winced. The elf had fastened what looked like sturdy leather collars around their necks before moving on. Lori knew what those were for. They were retrieval collars, they drew the elves' victims along with them when they finished a raid. Nobody knew how they actually worked, of course, but if she could just get it off of her... Lori didn't know how much time she had so she figured she had to hurry. The fastener was an unfamiliar design, some sort of rectangular buckle with no loose ends protruding or other obvious ways to undo it. She'd have to try cutting it off, assuming the lab had a knife or scalpel handy. She stepped out and hefted Maria up over her shoulder to carry her inside.

A stunbolt hit Lori in the small of her back, not doing any physical damage but sending an electric jolt shooting through her entire body. She let out a gasp and her knees folded, the two of them sinking back down to the floor.

She felt tingly and her muscles were completely unresponsive, but she was still fully aware of the world around her and still fully capable of feeling fear. The elf approached again, obviously not having gone as far away as Lori had thought, and knelt down beside her. She'd never thought she'd see one ''this'' close. He looked almost human.

He had a wry smirk on his lips. "Trying to steal my catch, eh? Not after such a lousy hunt, you're not." He took a short leather strap from a pouch on his belt and slipped the end around Lori's neck, pulling it snug and snapping the fastener shut with an expert hand. The loose end dropped cleanly off and he tucked it back in the pouch.

Then the elf got back up and moved on, leaving Lori alone with the others. Her head was resting on Maria's abdomen, rising and falling slightly with her breathing in what would normally be a rather comfortable and relaxing way. Far from relaxed, though, she screamed and struggled with all her might inside her mind, trying to force herself to move through sheer will. The band around her neck was a heavy presence, a ticking time bomb that could go off at any moment. She ''had'' to get it off. But the only outward signs of her effort was an occasional slight tremble and a quiet whimper.

A clock wasn't within her field of vision so she had no idea how long she actually lay there. It seemed like ages. Sweat beaded on her brow as she kept trying to move or even just call for help. ''Where is everyone? Why isn't anyone helping us?'' Anyone left was probably in hiding now just like she'd planned for herself, she realized with bitter irony. Even big raids like this seldom lasted more than an hour in densely populated areas. It could have been perhaps half an hour along already by the time she'd been shot. Any minute now it would be over..

The tingling from the collar around her neck started to grow and she let out a final desperate whimper, knowing what was about to happen. This was it; nobody had ever come back from the fairy realm, or wherever the hell the elves took people. The collar's magic flooded through her body and there was a sudden overwhelming light, accompanied by a sensation of falling helplessly through space. Lori passed out.

{{Separator|d|Part 2}}

She woke up again with a start. She was lying in a dimly-lit place with a rough wooden floor and bare beams visible in the shadowy ceiling. She could hear the quiet murmur of people talking or sobbing, and the occasional louder curse or wail of despair. She realized that her paralysis had worn off and she sat up quickly, a surge of adrenaline shooting through her.

The room was large, perhaps a hundred feet long or more, and was divided up into cells by thick iron bars. The lighting came from lanterns hung along the far wall. The cells were filled with people, all apparently people from the raid she'd fallen victim to, and she looked around in alarm.

"Lori! Lori, it's okay." Maria crouched down next to her. She was in the same cell as her, they were still together.

Lori breathed a sigh of relief at the familiar face. "Thank god. Are you, ow, are you okay?" Maria helped Lori to her feet, her muscles having become sore from lying on the hard floor for an unknown length of time. Maria nodded.

"I'm okay too, thanks," grumbled a man sitting in the corner. Lori glanced down and almost laughed; it was the guy they'd encountered in the lab. They'd all wound up in the same cell together. Taking time to absorb more detail, Lori looked around again and tried to take stock of their situation.

The three of them were alone in their cell, probably the lowest occupancy of any of the cells she could see. Some of the cells had dozens packed into them with standing room only, those must have been quite a tangle if everyone had started out unconscious like she had. Their pockets had been emptied but they were all still wearing the same clothes; Maria in cutoff jeans that showed way too much leg for this time of year, Lori a more practical set of full-length pants and a jacket, the man in his slacks and shirt. Nothing of obvious use for getting out of here. And they were all still wearing the retrieval collars that had yanked them out of their world.

Lori's hands flew to her neck and she grabbed hers, probing the strangely shaped buckle that held it and trying to loosen it any way she could. Maria shook her head and tried to pull Lori's hands away. "No, don't! We tried-"

"Ah!" Lori cringed, a terrible feeling shooting through her. It wasn't pain, exactly, but it was very unpleasant and made her muscles spasm. As soon as she let go of the collar, though, the feeling just as abruptly eased and she took a shaky breath. "Okay. Something not to do."

Maria nodded. "Seems like everyone tries that when they wake up. If you try too hard it gets really bad." She glanced over at the man sitting in the corner of their cell. He'd apparently been one of those to demonstrate this and Lori felt a pang of disappointment that she hadn't been awake to see it. She had developed an instant dislike for the man after he'd blundered out into the hall like that.

Realizing he was the center of attention, the man sighed and climbed to his feet to get level with them. "Hi," he greeted with little enthusiasm. "My name's Bryce Samson."

Lori gave a little snort but figured they were in this together now so a little civility might be in order. "Lori Yates. Maria Reese."

Bryce nodded. "Good to know the names of the girls who got me into this."

Lori's expression hardened. "''We'' got you into this? If you hadn't run out there and grabbed that elf's attention-"

A subtle change in the tone of the room's background noise interrupted their dispute over blame, the increased undercurrent of fear grabbing their attention. A door at the far end of the room opened and several people - elves - entered. They wore elaborate uniforms similar to those the hunters had worn and carried short batons that resembled the longer stun staves the hunters used. Presumably they were guards.

More elves followed, a mixture of both male and female, these wearing much more elaborate outfits. They looked like nobility, or at least like they were in the upper class of whatever social order there was around here. The assembly walked slowly down the length of the room, individual elves pausing and examining the captives as they came.

"Hey, what's going on here? What are you doing with us?" One of the men farther up the row of cells demanded. "Yeah, come on. Let us out!" Someone else chimed in.

One of the guards stepped toward them and held out his stun baton. Everyone in that cell immediately grunted in distress and staggered, grabbing their collars. The sensation evidently passed quickly but the one who'd spoken up remained very quiet after that. The glare from his cell mates probably helped that decision.

One of the fancily-dressed elves stopped three cells down from theirs, studied the occupants an unusually long time, then leaned over to quietly confer with one of the guards. The guard nodded and stepped up to the bars. The people inside nervously stepped back, but all the guard did was fasten a tag to a hook on the front. "Lot sixteen to Lord Ellewyn Devoine, three hundred florins," He announced. There was a quiet murmur among several of the elves and the one who'd indicated his choice headed for the door to leave.

"Oh my god," Maria breathed to Lori. "They're ''selling'' us."

"Shh!" Bryce shushed Maria. He had apparently taken the punishment meted out to the talkative fellow's cellmates to heart and didn't want to draw any attention. Lori didn't like being told to be quiet but she didn't actually have anything to say so she had to agree, giving Maria's arm a silent squeeze.

Slaving had, of course, been one of the main theories about the elves' motives. They rarely stole any physical objects - mostly books, grabbed opportunistically in the course of their people-hunts - and they seemed to take care not to harm their captives. But Lori had never really thought about the implications of being on the receiving end of that. It was terrifying now that she did. She would be at these elves' mercy. What did they have in mind for them?

To her relief, though, there didn't seem to be a lot of interest in her and her companions. The cells to either side of theirs were quickly claimed but theirs kept getting passed over. Lori avoided meeting the gazes of their neighbors. They had the feel of condemned prisoners about them now and she had no way to help them, she could only stand huddled with Maria at the back and hope to avoid sharing their fate. The question of what would happen to them if they ''didn't'' get sold was a worrying one too, for all she knew it meant some form of hideous disposal, but that was something she could worry about later when they got to it.

An elf-woman stopped in front of their cells and Lori flinched when she realized how intently she was sizing the trio up. Her clothing wasn't as richly embroidered or elaborate as most of the others but she had the same regal bearing that suggested she was used to getting her way. She cocked her head, examining each of them in turn. When her gaze focused on Lori she tried to stare back confidently, but something in the elf's eyes made it very hard for Lori to keep her resolve.

The elf-woman beckoned to one of the guards and leaned close when he arrived. "These ones," she murmured. "Fifty florins."

"Lot nineteen to Lady Jera Livremor, fifty florins," the guard announced, and hung a tag on the bars.

"Holy crap," Bryce wheezed, then clamped a hand over his mouth and cringed slightly. Lori shot him a sharp glance and then tried to match Jera's gaze again. ''Not afraid of you,'' she though, even though the heartbeat thudding loudly in her ears may have indicated otherwise.

A slight grin quirked the corners of Jera's mouth and then she moved on, leaving the room with the last of the stragglers. Lori let out a long and shaky breath. They'd been bought by an elf. ''God. Not how I expected to wind up finding a job.'' She almost laughed at the thought but she was too nervous and angry for that.

There were still plenty of unknowns left to worry about. Whatever was going on here, this was just the beginning.

{{Separator|d|Part 3}}

The elves were as efficient as they were elegant. As soon as the last buyers had left the room a fresh set of guards came pouring in. Each bore a length of fine silvery chain and made a beeline for a cell bearing a tag on its hook. One came for them. "Take this," he instructed, offering them the chain through the bars. They all hesitated, of course, but Bryce set his jaw and moved first to accept it. The chain was about eight feet long in total and had four hinged metal loops spaced evenly down its length. "Each of you attach one," he told them, gesturing illustratively toward his neck. "Leave the fastener at one end free."

This was the first time any of the captives had actually been ordered to do anything and all up and down the row of cells there was a swell of confusion and consternation. Some people were refusing, and the guards were being quick to deploy their magical punishments to force compliance from them or their cell mates. Bryce swallowed nervously and hooked one of the end loops through a ring mounted in his collar, fastening it with a snap. He offered the chain to Lori and Maria. "Who's next in line?" He asked gamely.

Lori seriously considered punching him since there was nobody else she could easily reach who deserved it. But while she weighed just how badly the guard would react to that, Maria stepped forward. "I'll do it," she murmured, raising her chin to proffer her collar.

Bryce fastened Maria to the chain. "Sorry," he apologized.

Lori snorted and grabbed the rest of the chain. ''I'll be damned if I let that guy chain me up.'' She connected herself after Maria, grimacing as she did so, then looked back to the guard for instruction. He opened the cell door and reached out to take the loose end of the chain, holding his stun baton at the ready in his other hand. Lori grudgingly handed it over. He took the tag off the hook by the door and fastened it to the end, keeping their group's ownership clearly marked.

Other groups of people strung together on chains were being led out of the room by now and they joined them. Lori kept looking for openings to fight back, with just three on their chain she figured they had at least a minor advantage, but the elves were professionals; at the slightest disturbance whole chains of people were shocked into submission and their chain mates strove to keep the troublemakers in line afterward. Lori didn't want to take Maria down with her in some futile gesture of defiance so she figured she'd only take a chance if there was a really obvious opening.

There wasn't one. The three of them followed the guard's lead, passing through a number of corridors and rooms with heavy wooden doors, until they reached the outside of the building. They discovered they were in the heart of an elven city.

The architecture was strongly Victorian in flavor, though with the increased elegance and artistry Lori had come to expect from elves. The time seemed to be mid-afternoon and the cobblestone street was bustling, conventional horse drawn carriages mixed with rickshaws drawn by strange bipedal horse-creatures. There were even occasional elven pedestrians. All along the front of the building large carts and carriages of various sorts were parked, obstructing some of Lori's view. Still, she couldn't help but be amazed. ''This'' was the civilization that had been terrorizing Earth for years now? Magic aside, it was all so primitive!

The guard took them a short distance down the street. The sight of people being led around on chains was evidently not an unusual one in this neighborhood, nobody gave them a second glance and Lori suspected they wouldn't help them if they made a break for it. They stopped at a small one-horse coach at the end of the row and he rapped on the door. "Your purchase, M'lady." The coach door opened to reveal Lady Jera Livremor, who nodded wordlessly to the guard and held out her hand to take the chain from him.

He hesitated. "Are you sure, m'Lady? They're uncharmed, would you perhaps prefer an escort..."

"I can control my property," she snapped imperiously, brandishing a short wand that was presumably a variant on the guard's baton.

The guard shrugged and handed the chain over to her. "As m'Lady wishes."

Lori found herself standing just two feet of chain away from Jera. The two regarded each other for a moment and then Jera gave the chain a sharp tug. "In," she commanded. "I have no time or patience to break you here in this street."

"Okay, okay, we're coming, uh, m'Lady..." Bryce gave a gentle nudge to Maria, who nudged Lori in turn and got them all moving.

Jera gave Bryce a thin smile as they climbed into the back seat of the coach. "A decent attempt. But as your first lesson in civility, I warn you never to use that title again. Lady is a title for elven lips, you will refer to me as either Mistress Livremor or simply Mistress."

Bryce nodded. "Mistress. Of course. Sorry."

It was probably a good thing Lori had wound up on the other end of the chain from Bryce with Maria in between or she would have been even more tempted to smack him. She really didn't like the idea of jumping through these demeaning hoops.

Once they were in the back seat and the door was secured, Jera turned to a sliding panel at the front of the coach and gave an order; "Home, horse." The horse whickered and then at the first break in the traffic they pulled out into the street.

Jera turned back to the three of them. "Now, I'm sure you have many questions. The hunting guilds do as little as possible to inform the humans they retrieve from Earth since every slave-dealer has his own methods and preferences for how to prepare their stock." The corner of her mouth tugged in another slight smile. "I am one who finds it preferable to do it all myself. Much less costly purchasing you lot straight from the hunter's combine, too. Unsuccessful hunters make for good bargains."

That last comment seemed oddly out of place under the circumstances and Lori actually stifled a grin of her own. ''Lady Livremor is a cheapskate.'' "Um, a question," Lori asked once a suitable pause had developed. "What do you plan to do with-"

Jera cut Lori off with an upraised wand, her smile gone again. "Second lesson," she said. "Speak only when spoken to and ask no questions unless they are necessary for properly obeying the orders you are given. And do not use 'you' as a form of address to your superiors, it is overly familiar."

Lori opened and closed her mouth a few times, trying to figure out how to respond. Perhaps she could snatch the wand away... Maria saw the wheels turning in Lori's mind and put her hand on Lori's arm, stopping her from doing or saying anything they might all regret. "Of course, mistress," Lori hissed at last. "My apologies."

Jera raised an eyebrow at Lori's tone and fingered her wand, causing all three of them to tense in anticipating of punishment. But she just gave a nod. "Suitable for now. Since at this point I am sure it will be easier to simply satisfy your curiosity than teach you to control yourselves, however, I will tell you some things about why you are here. In the largest sense, do you know why we have chosen your people to enslave?" They all gave slight shakes of their heads, too nervous about saying something wrong to speak up. "It is very simple. We the elves, and this entire world that we live in, are suffused with magic. You, the humans, are not. Your world is a lower, lesser plane than ours that is completely bereft of any magic we do not bring there ourselves. In this world magic can only be enhanced, never weakened or dispelled, so we find your kind ideally controllable and adaptable in serving to our mundane needs."

It was demeaning and racist, of course, but for all Lori knew it was perfectly true. ''Still doesn't give you the right-''

"As for why you are here in the more immediate sense," Jera continued, cutting off Lori's thought before she could turn it into an argument. "I am as you have no doubt surmised a Lady of some status and means. I have come into the possession of a new country estate, one whom the previous tenants have left in some degree of disrepair. You three will be servicing and maintaining this estate." The half-smile returned to the corners of her mouth and Lori wondered if she was even capable of a broader expression than that.

They continued their rather one-sided conversation as the coach clopped along, leaving the cobbled city streets and heading out onto the dirt roads of the countryside. ''They don't even have paved roads...'' Lori grumbled to herself. She kept listening with half an ear as Jera rambled on about the wonders of elvenkind and how lowly humans were compared to them. There were some useful tidbits of information in there, no doubt, but for now she was having some difficulty paying attention; she kept thinking of how she'd actually rather be back in botany. Maria stayed quiet too, presumably lost in her own thoughts. Bryce was the only one who played along particularly well, prompting 'Mistress Livremor' to continue explaining as best he could. She was obviously taking a liking to his transparent kowtowing and that only worsened Lori's funk.

Finally, after what must have been at least an hour, the coach turned down a particularly rickety trail - it didn't deserve the name 'road' - that led through a lush patch of woods up to a fair-sized wood framed manor house. It was two stories tall, not counting the high attic and any basement that might be underneath, with ornately carved details everywhere and exotically arched architecture just like everything elvish they'd seen so far. But it was also the first visibly run-down building they'd encountered. The paint needed work, the lawn was overgrown, and Lori half expected to see a carriage up on cinder blocks out front.

"Livremor Manor," Jera announced as the coach pulled up to a stop before the front porch. They climbed out of the coach and as soon as they were out the horse took off on its own, circling around to take the coach back the way they'd come. "A fine country retreat for an artist such as myself. Once it is staffed, of course." She clapped her hands, startling the trio, and a moment later a young male elf came out of the front door. He looked about eighteen, though of course it was impossible to tell what that equated to in human years. He was wearing finery of simpler design than Jera's though it too was heavily embroidered.

"M'Lady," he bowed curtly.

She gave him a perfunctory nod back. "This is Eosin Sharelos, temporarily in my employ as master of this house," she introduced him.

"Pleased to meet you, Master Sharelos," Bryce bowed deeply. Maria gave a quick, awkward curtsy and a moment later Lori did likewise. Curtsying was definitely ''not'' her style.

Jera gave a satisfied sigh. "Well, then. I have been pondering your roles while we rode and it already seems clear to me what you're best suited for. You, there -" she pointed at Bryce - "will take over much of the household work that Sharelos has been unfairly burdened with. You will be cooking and cleaning and ultimately serving my guests." She reached over and disconnected Bryce's collar from the chain. "Go with him now. He will get you into uniform and show you some of what is expected."

Bryce blinked, as surprised by the sudden decision as the rest of them. After only a moment's hesitation, though, he gave another quick bow. "Um, okay, Mistress Livremor." Her lips quirked at the mixture of formal and informal in his speech and she watched him hurry awkwardly up the stairs to be taken inside by Eosin.

Lori was confused. That was a pretty comprehensive job description, what was left for her and Maria? "M'lady- um, I mean, Mistress Livremor," she stammered. "What-" Maria cut her off with a vigorous squeeze to the arm, shaking her head silently.

Jera ignored Lori's outburst completely. "You're probably wondering why that one got the most prestigious position. Skill is irrelevant, you will all learn your jobs soon enough. But attitude is sometimes harder to adjust. You-" she pointed at Maria "-show no enthusiasm for service like that one does. And you-" Lori's turn this time "-well, it's obvious how poorly you would fare. Fortunately there are other roles on this estate that will minimize your elven interaction and I only really need one servant in the house anyway. Come." She turned and started walking off around the side of the manor house, and when the two girls didn't immediately follow she turned and repeated more sharply; "Come!"

The two obeyed, trailing the chain that still bound them together.

{{Separator|d|Part 4}}

'Livremor Manor' was a farmhouse.

As they rounded the structure and saw the grounds spread out before them Lori's heart sank slightly. It was even more unkempt back here. A small stable and coach house was tucked away to one side, and a number of other storage sheds as well, but what dominated the view was a huge and somewhat ramshackle barn. An elvish barn, mind you, with carvings and decorations galore, but still a barn.

"As you can see my estate has a hobby-farm on its grounds," Jera explained airily. "In fact, the former owner worked it as a farm exclusively. Uncouth yokel. Maintaining the estate's grounds will be your role. For the rest of today you will work on cleaning this barn, a simple task that should require no training. I will have more time to spend on preparing you tomorrow."

There was a distinct odor in the air that suggested the place had seen use by cattle recently and when they opened the barn doors the scent rolled out over them in a wave that left them momentarily breathless. The place was a tremendous mess. Neither Lori nor Maria had ever had experience on a farm before, they'd barely even visited them, but they knew it was very labor-intensive. "Um, Mistress Livremor..." Maria began haltingly, pausing to see whether she'd spoken out of turn. Jera gave her a slight nod and Maria continued. "I'm not really in the best of shape, and there's just the two of us... I'm not sure we can handle all of this by ourselves."

Jera's smile widened more than Lori had thought possible. "You humans are adaptable, as I have said. Elven magic will help you serve me. Come here." She unhooked the chain from their collars, rolling it up and tucking it away in a pocket, then took out a small velvet-lined case. There were two identical tokens inside, each a small silvery metal square that bore a symbol resembling an upturned crescent moon with a trapezoid suspended underneath, narrow end down. She took one out and gestured to Maria, who hesitantly raised her chin again to give her access to her collar.

Jera placed the token over the fastener. There was a recess built into it that seemed specifically intended as a receptacle for the token and it clicked in perfectly. Jera held it in place with her finger for a moment and Maria developed a concerned expression, then there was a sudden spark of light and Maria gasped. The token had welded seamlessly into the fastener and was glowing faintly.

Lori moved to grab Maria in case she needed support, but Jera stopped her with a gesture and drew a second token. "You too," she ordered.

Lori set her jaw defiantly. "What did you do to her?"

Jera sighed in frustration. "I am weary of your insolence." She put away the velvet case and drew her wand, pointing it at Lori. Lori started an attempt to dodge but the terrible feeling overcame her instantly and nearly dropped her to the ground in a trembling heap. Jera kept the punishment up for a moment and then once Lori seemed to have ceased her struggle she released her again.

Now it was Maria's turn to offer support, helping Lori straighten back up. Jera held out the token again, waiting to see whether Lori would be more compliant this time. Lori still hesitated. She was getting pretty weary of Jera herself, and inflicting pain did nothing to convince her of the wisdom of complying. But Maria looked at her pleadingly, and Jera seemed ready to punish her with that terrible feeling again... Lori grudgingly raised her chin.

Jera inserted the token into Lori's collar, pressing gently but firmly against her throat. Lori felt a growing tingle, much like the one that had preceded the transition to this world when she'd first been captured, and then with a flash of light the same sort of jolt shot through her body, making her stagger. Jera took her hand away and Lori gingerly touched the fastener to explore how the token was affixed to it. ''Just great. It'll be even harder to get this bloody collar off now.''

Jera nodded. "Good. The enchantment is primed, it will develop as you work." She didn't explain that somewhat unclear statement any further, instead directing them to a corner where some shovels and other tools were haphazardly piled. She gave them vague directions on where to deposit what, showed them a rain barrel for when they got thirsty, and then retired from the stinking barn back to the house. Lori and Maria were left alone with each other and their monumental task.

It was the first time they'd been left alone since shortly after Lori woke up and they both relaxed in relief. "If only there were a river we could redirect through here..." Lori sighed. Maria grinned at the Augean stable reference. "Good god. I can't believe it. We've been kidnapped by elves, dragged across the planes of existence, and all so we can shovel old cow manure?"

Maria looked around. "Well, it does need it, obviously."

Lori snorted. "Obviously. It's, what, six o'clock? Seven? Local time, anyway. I should be home by now. Instead I'm-" she broke off, noticing Maria's trembling lip. "Oh, I'm sorry." No further words needed to be exchanged on that subject, it was obvious to both of them that they weren't going home again any time soon. They hugged instead, giving each of them a familiar touch to cling to for a little while.

"Thanks," Maria said when they separated at last. "I needed that. I'm glad you're with me."

Lori chuckled. "I guess if one of us has to be here, it's better to have both. I wonder what Bryce is up to in there, something cushy no doubt... Oh, never mind him."

"So what do we do now?" Maria's question was plaintive.

Lori glanced around, double-checking for elves. "Let's look around. Maybe there's something we can do. Jera doesn't strike me as the most together sort of elf."

"I don't know..."

But Lori was already heading back to the barn door, left ajar by Jera when she'd departed. She peered outside and didn't see any sign of observation; a quick dash around the corner of the barn would take them out of view of the house altogether. When Lori leaned out to get a better view, however, she let out a gasp and jerked her head back in.

"What?" Maria yelped, worried something horrible had happened to Lori.

Something had, sort of. She rubbed her neck ruefully. "Got zapped. Probably something automatic, like one of those invisible dog fences. I think we're supposed to stay in here."

Maria nodded. "Yeah... so what do we do in here?"

Lori sighed. Jera had evidently covered the obvious approaches and Lori didn't relish the idea of poking her head out of every opening in the barn to see if she'd overlooked anything. She also didn't see any tools that looked like they'd be capable of cutting through their slave collars, at least not quickly enough to prevent their magical safeguards from taking a terrible toll. So if escape would have to wait... She shucked her jacket and picked up one of the shovels. "I guess let's do this thing."

They got to work. After breaking through the layers of matted manure and old straw they discovered that there was actually a flagstone floor buried under it all. The fact that it hadn't been visible gave them a disheartening impression of the scope of their unpleasant task.

At first they worked half-heartedly and chatted a lot about emotionally safe topics to break the monotony. Maria had apparently been a secret fan of a reality show called 'The Simple Life', where a couple of vacuous Hollywood girls went to live on a farm for the season, and she kept drawing amusing parallels between their situations. Lori had barely heard of the show herself but didn't mind letting Maria go on about it to distract from what they were doing.

But after a while the single-minded nature of the work slowly began to grow on them and they spoke less. The steady rhythm of motion and flex of muscle actually started to feel pleasant in its own right. ''Just like a workout in the gym,'' Lori realized. She kept slipping into the 'zone' and had to actually force herself to work less efficiently. She didn't want Jera to know exactly how much work she could really do, and she definitely didn't want to ''enjoy'' doing the work.

By the time the Sun set low enough in the sky that its reddening glow became hard to see by they'd managed to clear out a quarter of the central aisle and had removed the rotten feed from most of the troughs in the various stalls. Their muscles were solid aches, they were ravenously hungry, and they'd drunk so much water from the rain barrel that they felt quite bloated. Whatever those softly glowing tokens embedded on their collars were supposed to do it didn't seem to have helped much.

They were just about ready to give up when Jera finally returned, holding a cloth over her face to filter the dusty air inside the barn. Lori and Maria had had no such protection and Lori didn't want to think about the dust her nose was stuffed with right now; her face was puffy from some sort of allergic reaction. "Well well, girls, you've given me hope yet," she told them as she surveyed their work.

Lori was so delirious with fatigue that she actually smiled at the compliment for a moment and Maria murmured a quiet "thank you, Mistress." Part of Lori was upset at that - why should ''they'' be thanking ''her'' under these circumstances? - but another part decided it was best not to challenge her on that right now. She was in no condition for a fight.

"Well, then. I suppose I should let you stop for the night. And in recognition of your effort, I've brought you some food fresh from the garden. Sharelos harvested it but you'll be tending that yourselves eventually once this place is straightened out. I'll save a lot if I don't have to import produce. Bridgette!" She snapped her fingers. A figure they hadn't noticed following Jera stepped out meekly from behind her.

In their exhausted state it took them a moment to recognize Bryce. He was dressed in a French maid's outfit, of all things! It looked absolutely ridiculous on him and his cheeks were blazing red with embarrassment. He proffered a large wooden bucket and refused to meet Lori's gaze.

Lori stifled a snicker at Bryce's predicament, but found it hard to focus on that despite how amusing the moment was. She focused instead on the bucket Bryce held. She was hungry enough to start salivating without even knowing what was in it yet.

Jera nodded to Bryce, who set the bucket down just inside the door and then stepped demurely back out of the barn. "Eat up and sleep well, girls. You'll need your strength for tomorrow." She turned to go.

Lori blinked, confusion momentarily overcoming both good sense and the urgency of her hunger. She didn't want to eat ''here.'' "Um, can't we... Mistress, may we go inside now?"

The question was probably a breach of protocol but Jera must have been in a good mood because she merely chuckled. "Heavens, no. You can't go in the house, what were you thinking?" She turned back to them and pointed up. "You'll stay in the loft. There's straw up there for bedding. Bridgette, the door." Jera stepped back and Bryce swung the barn door shut, giving them a final apologetic glance. They were left alone again.

Lori and Maria looked at each other in dismay. They were sweaty and filthy, totally exhausted, and they wouldn't even have a bath or a bed for their troubles. But at least they ''did'' have food now... Without a word the two of them turned and hurried over to the bucket. It was filled with wilted lettuce, root vegetables that looked somewhat like yams, something like celery, and had a copious helping of weeds and grass mixed in. Sharelos had evidently done a pretty haphazard job of harvesting it.

Still, eating that was better than ''not'' eating. They controlled their appetites long enough for them to carry the bucket up the ladder-steep stairway into the loft and sit among the loosely baled hay before they started picking out the edible bits. It was a rough meal but they desperately needed it and for a long while their only conversation consisted of the crunch and chew of vegetables. When they finally finished Maria lay back in the hay with a sigh. Lori noticed with some chagrin that they'd actually completely emptied the bucket of both the good quality and the bad; they'd really been hungry.

And now she felt even ''more'' bloated. Lori joined Maria in the hay, the sunlight too dim to do much of anything else. She kicked off her shoes and and unfastened her belt. Her heels had rubbed raw and her toes felt numb, she apparently needed the next size up for doing heavy work like this. Even her bra straps were chafing and she was momentarily amused by the thought that Bryce might well be having the same problem. Where had Jera come up with the notion of dressing him as a French maid? He definitely didn't have the figure for it, if nothing else.

The bra, at least, she could loosen. Unfortunately she doubted there were any good shoe stores nearby... at least, not for slaves like her. She shivered, fingering her collar. Until this moment she hadn't really had time to think about it at any length. She'd been too scared and disoriented during the sale after she'd been captured, during the ride here she'd been too busy listening to Jera ramble on about elves and trying not to let her truculence show too overtly, and then once they got to work in the barn the simple physical exertion had kept her mind pretty much blank.

She would never see her family again, she'd started working her way towards accepting that even when she'd been lying stunned on the floor back in the biological sciences building. TV, chocolate, the Internet - more things she'd probably never experience again but that she may well be able to get over in time. There might even be substitutes in this world. But being a ''slave''? It definitely wasn't her thing. There had to be some way out of this, some other place to flee to. She'd have to keep an ear open.

But after lying there thinking about it for interminable minutes and having nothing to show for it, she decided that she was officially way too tired to worry about anything right now. There would be time for that later. The soft snoring coming from where Maria lay suggested she felt likewise. Lori closed her eyes and eventually drifted off to sleep.

{{Separator|d|Part 5}}

Lori was first to wake this time, eyes snapping open to the distant sound of a cock crowing and flinching as the recollection of the previous day returned. She gave a quiet grunt and sat up, noting that she was still in the hayloft and it had all really happened. The sun was just barely starting to rise, the barn lit only by the pale pre-dawn glow of the sky. They must have only had a few hours of sleep.

Still, she felt reasonably rested. Her muscles weren't nearly as sore as they might have been, though she still felt bloated from the bad food and drink she'd had yesterday. Her nose also still felt swollen but at least it wasn't stuffed up any more. She rubbed her eyes, trying not to grind in more dirt than she removed, and scratched her itchy skin with a yawn.

Maria was evidently not sleeping very soundly and Lori's motion woke her up too. She groaned quietly and stretched in the hay before propping herself up on one elbow and blinking blearily. Lori chuckled and reached over to pick some bits of straw out of her long brown hair. It had somehow managed to avoid getting matted with sweat and tangles, something Lori's much shorter hair had had trouble with. "Good morning," she murmured.

Maria gave Lori a smile, though with a haunted edge to her expression. "We're still here."

"Yeah." Lori fingered her collar. It was not uncomfortably tight but it was snug enough that she could always feel it against her skin. She resisted the urge to rip at it in a futile attempt to get it off, though. She could see the token fastened on Maria's still glowing faintly in the dim light; there were probably all sorts of booby traps in them that she hadn't discovered yet.

The two got up and started preparing for whatever the day might hold, refastening bras and belts and slipping their shoes back on. They were still uncomfortably tight and Lori wondered if perhaps she was having a more generalized allergic reaction to something. Or was it a side effect of the token, bulking her up to deal with the hard work? She shook her head, in no mood to be pondering anything deeply. They were hungry again.

Soon they heard the barn door open and the clicking of hard-soled shoes across the flagstones they'd cleared the day before. Both of them tensed taking each other's hand in mutual reassurance as whoever it was came climbing up the heavy wooden ladder into the loft. They both sighed in relief when Bryce's lace-crowned head poked up over the edge. He certainly didn't seem happy to see them but for once the feeling was not mutual. ''Breakfast.'' Lori and Maria moved over to help him the rest of the way up. He was having shoe trouble too, the glossy black high-heels not ideal for the terrain, and was moving quite stiffly in the tight black corseted dress.

He was carrying another bucket of wilted garden greens, obviously rejects from the pantry. The girls dug in almost as singlemindedly as they had last night, though, leaving Bryce to stand awkwardly in silence until the edge had been taken off their hunger. Finally Lori had had enough to sate her and she stepped back, leaving Maria to finish off what was left. She and Bryce regarded each other.

Bryce adjusted his frilly white apron, still blushing in embarrassment but keeping his gaze firm this time; without Jera present this now felt like more of a meeting of equals. "I know you don't like me," he began, "and I certainly don't like you. But we're stuck here together and I think we should compare notes."

Lori snorted. "I'm not so sure it's a good idea to tell you anything we're up to, 'Bridgette.'"

Bryce grimaced angrily. "Okay, look. I'm not happy about any of this, I want out as much as you do. But I've been ''playing along,'' get it? I'm ''pretending'' to be all meek and compliant so that Mis- so that ''elf bitch'' will let her guard down around me!"

The outburst yanked Maria's attention up from the food and all three of them tensed, glancing around and waiting for a long moment to see if Jera's wrath would somehow be triggered. But she wasn't omniscient, it seemed, and they finally relaxed again.

"I'm sorry," Lori apologized, and found that she actually meant it. "I guess I just like having someone to blame for all this."

Bryce nodded. "Me too."

"Blame the elf who shot us," Maria interjected. They could all agree on that, at least.

"So, I don't have much time out here," Bryce continued quickly once the tension had died down. "Mistress Livremor is expecting me back and I'm probably already tardy. Near as I can figure, these elves have been picking up fads from pop culture they steal from Earth; that may explain why they've got a mix of classic Tolkien and ''this'' sort of thing." He tugged on the hem of his frilly black skirt. "Though really, I have no idea why she made me a maid rather than one of you two. I can barely move in this getup. You're lucky."

Lori snorted again. "We worked really hard yesterday."

Bryce gave a wry grin. "I can see that. But you have no idea how complicated all the rules and etiquette are that I'm having to pick up in there. It's like navigating a minefield. And doing it while wearing this outfit... You just have to shovel crap and move heavy things."

Lori grudgingly nodded, admitting that their work was at least simpler and less demeaning. Jera had probably been right about her suitability for the role of housemaid. Though demeaning outfit aside, she was still rather envious of Bryce's obvious access to hygiene. He was even smooth-shaven. Lori absently scratched her itchy leg and cocked her head slightly, noticing that Bryce had had a glowing silver token similar to the ones they'd received yesterday installed in his own collar's fastener. Peering closer revealed that its engraved symbol was different, though; a vertical line that split halfway up into a triangular brush. A stylized feather duster, she realized with amusement. "When did you get-"

"Bridgette!" Jera's distant call interrupted her.

Bryce instantly snatched up the empty bucket and hollered "coming, Mistress!" in reply. He glanced quickly back at the two of them with an apologetic expression and lowered his voice; "Gotta go. Talk again later I hope." Then he hurried over to the ladder and climbed back down it as fast as his high heels and dress would allow.

Lori went to the nearest window and looked outside, taking in as much of the surrounding countryside as she could in the early morning light. Maria joined her. She hobbled a little, obviously having developed sore feet yesterday as well. "What're you thinking?" She asked.

Lori shook her head. "I'm thinking we've been bought by a bit of a nut. I'm not sure playing along like that is such a good idea, but I guess better him than us..."

"We've got a lot of work to do ourselves," Maria reminded her. Lori sighed. Since they were at least for the moment magically trapped in the barn - she could feel her collar tingling unpleasantly even as she leaned close to the loft window without poking her head through - there really wasn't much else they ''could'' do, short of setting up an ambush or some other such extreme measure. Going that extreme didn't seem like a good idea yet considering how little they knew about their circumstances, so work it would probably be. But she'd see what she could do to shirk it, if only on principle...

Jera came out personally about half an hour later and summoned the two down out of the loft. They reluctantly climbed down and stood before her. She spent a moment just looking at them, examining them with a clinical gaze that annoyed Lori greatly. Finally she asked, "so, how are you girls feeling? Ready to get back to your task?"

Lori and Maria glanced at each other. "Actually, I'm having some trouble with my shoes," Lori complained. "We weren't exactly dressed for this sort of work when we got captured. Mistress," she added quickly, and Maria nodded in agreement.

Jera smiled her half-smile. "Take them off," she ordered. They didn't hesitate long, their heels were already getting rubbed sore again and their socks were already filthy. Jera then indicated the open barn door. "Throw them away."

This time Lori did hesitate; she'd been hoping to be provided with a pair of boots or some equivalent first. But Jera subtly readied her wand and Lori decided it was too early in the day to feel that bad. She took Maria's shoes as well and walked gingerly over to toss both pair outside, her socks providing little protection against any sharp objects she might stumble across. She hadn't had tetanus shots recently. Fortunately they'd already cleared the area she was walking through, there didn't seem to be anything the soles of her feet couldn't handle on their own.

"Now, are you having trouble with anything else?" Jera asked when Lori returned. Lori flushed bright red in anger; it seemed the elf was ''toying'' with her. But she shook her head, not wanting to lose any other articles of clothing. "Good. Now, resume what you started yesterday. I will set Bridgette to some chores and when I am sure she can handle them unsupervised I'll return to see how you're doing."

As if shoveling all this cow manure wasn't bad enough, now they had to do it in sock feet? Lori sighed in exasperation as soon as Jera had gone out of earshot. "I'm going to get those shoes. Is there a rake or a hoe I can use...?"

Maria shook her head. "Wait, maybe it's a test. Maybe she's going to bring us work boots or something when she comes back."

Lori had to admit that it sounded like something Jera might do. The two reluctantly resumed shoveling. They took great care not to step on anything harmful, taking to walking around on tip-toes to minimize the risk. Their toes started going numb but at least neither of them stumbled onto anything that hurt them.

The rest of their problems only seemed to be getting worse, however. Their work slowed as Lori felt her bra straps cutting into her back and her belt applying ever more pressure to her unsettled, bloated stomach. On top of all that she was developing a headache and a pain in her lower spine. From the pained expression and stiff movements she could tell Maria was having the same difficulties. Finally she couldn't take it any more. She tossed down her shovel with an inarticulate yell of frustration and stripped off her shirt, fumbling with her bra's snaps and almost losing her balance as she unfastened it. She'd just go without that too.

Lori closed her eyes for a moment and sighed in relief, nipples practically tingling from the release of pressure. When she opened them again Maria was staring at her chest with a surprised expression. Lori chuckled. "Whew. Sorry for the sudden toplessness, I just couldn't take..." She trailed off, looking down herself. Her breasts had definitely grown, perhaps an entire cup size larger than she was used to. She hefted them in her hands, feeling the increased weight more easily now that they hung free. But perhaps even stranger was the growth of her nipples. They were as thick and conical now, protruding a full inch out from puffy areolas. "The hell?" She pinched one lightly and winced at its sensitivity.

Maria started stripping too and Lori saw that she had the same developments. But she didn't stop there. She also undid her belt and pulled open the fly of her shorts, letting her lower abdomen bulge out of confinement. The soft bulge was even more bizarre tucked down there, looking very out of place on her otherwise fit physique. It had four small bumps protruding from it. "Oh... oh god, I need to sit down," Maria murmured and wavered unsteadily on her toes.

Lori hurried to support her before she fell, their enlarged breasts pressing firmly up against each other as she slung Maria's arm over her shoulders. The excess flesh rubbing against each other was very distracting but Lori tried to keep focused and helped guide her over to a stool. Her own pants felt extremely tight too, she hadn't tried undoing them yet but guessed she'd find a bulge under them much like Maria had. What ''else'' was happening to them? She pulled off one of her socks and was met with the biggest surprise yet.

Her toes had fused together until there were just two left on each foot, the merged toenails growing over the ends into thick masses that resembled a cloven hoof. No wonder they'd felt numb... The source of Lori's headache turned out to be two hard bumps on her scalp that were just starting to erupt into a pair of horns. Her backache, likewise, seemed to be due to the stub of a tail forming at the base of her spine. Her ears were longer, pointier, and definitely hairier than they should be, and her swollen nose was broader than could be explained by simple allergies. Once all the changes were put together out in the open it seemed pretty clear what was happening. By some bizarre elven magic they were starting to look a bit like cows.

"Ah, girls, I see you've made good progress this morning." Lori looked up from her toes to see that Jera had entered the barn again; she'd been too distracted to notice until now.

Maria actually whimpered in fear but Lori's gaze was venomous. "What are you ''doing'' to us?" She demanded.

Jera glared back. "I should think you would be more respectful by now. Address me properly or not at all." The staring contest held for a moment, Jera's hand steady on her wand, then Lori broke it off and decided on silence. There was no way she'd call Jera 'Mistress' right now.

Jera nodded, at least temporarily satisfied, and walked in to the barn. Lori hurriedly pulled her shirt back on, the fabric stretching tight over her chest and poking out over her enormously erect nipples but giving a slight modicum of decency. Jera glanced at her with obvious distaste. "Such plain clothing you people wear, you are really better off without. No matter. Bridgette is finally accomplishing her chores with some modicum of passable skill so I finally have some time to devote to you two. I haven't had much to spare since Sharelos went to town."

Lori's ears twitched and she tried not to let the unexpected physical reaction distract her from the information that had triggered it. Jera was apparently alone on the estate right now.

"It occurs to me," Jera continued, "that aside from my description of our elven civilization during the coach ride here I have provided you with very little information about what to expect for yourselves. Heh," she chuckled and walked toward them. "I only just realized as I came out here that I did not even know your names yet."

Lori gritted her teeth. "I'm Lor-" Jera cut her off with a wave of the wand, apparently not having intended her statement as a question.

"I decided on the way over," she told them. "You-" she pointed the wand to Maria- "are Annabell, and you-" she pointed to Lori- "are Bess."

Lori blinked in surprise. It was the final indignity. As Jera continued on to her next topic Lori surged to her feet and lunged for Jera's wand. Jera dodged with effortless elven grace and in an instant Lori realized she'd underestimated Jera's reflexes. But then at the last moment Jera seemed to change her mind and moved to allow Lori to grab the wand.

Lori fell past Jera and collapsed, completely paralyzed the instant she'd touched it. Maria leapt up and stumbled to her side. "Lori!" She grabbed Lori's shoulders and rolled her onto her back, checking for injuries.

"Ah ah," Jera chided, still holding her wand nonchalantly. "Bess."

Maria looked up at the elf with a moment of incomprehension mixed with her terror, but then realized what Jera meant. "Bess," she stammered, returning her attention to Lori. "Bess, are you okay?"

Lori couldn't answer, of course; she felt like she'd been hit with another stunbolt. She was reduced to fuming silently inside her own mind and hoping Maria wouldn't do anything as stupid as she'd just tried herself.

"This sort of uncouth nonsense is unfortunate," Jera told the paralyzed woman huffily. "I was just about to provide you with some answers to your questions out of the goodness of my own heart, but I suppose this demonstration was useful as an object lesson in its own right. Magic obeys only elves." She turned to Maria. "Do not worry about her, Annabell, she will recover. Now, do ''you'' have any questions? Ask properly."

Maria paused, thinking carefully before she spoke. "Mistress, why are we turning into cows?" Her voice cracked slightly on the last word.

"It makes you more suitable for working the land. You see, before we discovered your world we would enchant our farm animals to tend to the farms themselves, and so we keep up the tradition with our human slaves." She gave Maria her half-smile. "I suppose it's mostly a fashion these days. Technically, you aren't 'turning into a cow' as you so crudely put it. If I want a cow I will just buy a cow. No, you're developing into a Taurus, a common model of agricultural slave. You'll still seem mostly human for whatever that's worth to you." She patted her pocket. "The charms carrying the enchantment were cheap but you'll still make excellent groundskeepers."

''Cheap!'' Lori managed a snort despite her paralysis. She couldn't believe it.

Jera glanced down at Lori and sighed. "You are such a troublemaker. Well, so much for hands-on training, I don't have time to wait. You'll have to muddle on by yourselves. Both of you resume your cleaning work when Bess recovers. I should like this barn to be usable by tomorrow." She turned and headed back out the door. Jera had answered only one question but that answer was a doozy. What exactly did a 'Taurus' look like? Lori dreaded finding out.

Maria stayed kneeling next to Lori for a minute, cradling her head and sniffling quietly. Lori wished she could say something reassuring. Or at least ask her to move a bit, the naked large-nippled breasts hanging over Lori's head were a bit distracting. Finally Maria seemed to pull herself together a bit. "Lori, I'm sorry," she murmured. "I don't know what to do but I won't leave you."

Lori remembered what it had been like when their positions had been reversed, with Maria paralyzed and Lori refusing to leave her side, and was surprised by the trickle of a tear of her own down her cheek. She blinked rapidly to clear her vision.

Maria noticed Lori's tear and mistook it for distress. Her confusion over what to do was overwhelmed by a desperate need to do ''something'', and without further thought she leaned down to kiss Lori on the lips.

Lori blinked, startled but for the moment unable to react. Maria's kiss was long and tender, evidently with strong feeling behind it, and Lori found herself quite moved. She twitched her fingers slightly and realized the paralysis was already starting to wear off. If Maria would just hold on for a little while longer...

But she pulled away, suddenly awkward as she realized how presumptuous her impulsive act had been. "Sorry," she murmured again. But Lori managed to give her a hint of a smile and Maria smiled back, relaxing slightly.

She remained cradling Lori's head in her lap while full control slowly returned to Lori's muscles. The moment was actually very nice and Lori knew that once it was over they'd have terrible things to contend with again. She didn't rush to get up.

{{Separator|d|Part 6}}

Eventually, of course, reality's rude intrusion forced the issue. Lori's comfort eventually began to fail as a pain in her backside grew, and she realized to her chagrin that her tail was getting long enough to have a kink. With a quiet sigh she reached up and touched Maria's arm, alerting her to her impending movement, and then with Maria's assistance rose unsteadily to her feet. She shook her head and ran her fingers through her tangled hair, avoiding the budding horns above her temples. She wanted to take these changes as slowly as possible.

"Are you alright?" Maria asked quietly.

Lori nodded absently, reaching down the back of her pants to adjust the stub of her tail into a more comfortable position. It was impossible. Her pants were just too tight with the growing bulge of her lower abdomen contained within them, and she was loathe to undo them and let it just hang out in the open like Maria had done. "Frickin' tail," she groaned uncomfortably.

"Yeah, I know," Maria commiserated. The tip of hers was already poking out of one of the legs of her shorts, it must have been approaching a foot long by now. If Lori's was the same size... she concentrated on the kinked feeling for a moment and jumped slightly when she felt it twitch.

With a little effort and prodding from the outside she was able to thread it down one of her pant legs. The soft brush of hair growing on the end tickled against her skin. "I think we'll need to cut holes for these."

Maria agreed. For the next few minutes they worked in silence on getting their clothing back in order, poking crude tail holes with the tines of a pitchfork and threading their new appendages through them. Maria put her shirt back on, but she looked somewhat uncomfortable about it and Lori figured she knew why. Without a bra on underneath the fabric of her own shirt rubbed on her nipples when she moved in certain ways, a not entirely unpleasant sensation but making it impossible to ignore how large and erect the things had become.

"Okay," Maria broke the silence after they'd got as comfortable as they could under the circumstances. "What do we do now?"

Lori shook her head. "I don't know. I... I'm feeling kind of confused." The admission slipped out before she'd fully analyzed her mental state herself. What did she want? Part of her wanted to rage, part of her wanted to cry. Those urges she understood. Part of her wanted to further explore the changes to her own body and part of her was repelled by the concept. Those were also quite understandable. Part of her wanted to explore Maria's body instead, to touch her lips again and feel the firm curve of her hips pressed-

Lori shook her head again. That part she didn't understand and she didn't want to approach it too closely right now. So what did that leave? There was one other major urge lurking in her thoughts right now, she realized.

"Maybe we should get back to cleaning up?" Maria asked, indicating it was weighing on her mind too.

Everything Lori wanted was conflicted. She definitely didn't want to comply with Jera's wishes, but at the same time the work really had started to feel good in some bizarre way. Calming, almost. And calming was something she could really go for right now. She needed to keep her mind off of all the other things competing for her attention.

The two got back to their task and as Lori had sort of hoped it soon sucked them back in to that single-minded focus again. The major part of the job - the shoveling - was finally finished after just an hour or two more, after which they did a thorough sweeping of what was left and started pulling out some of the larger debris piled in a couple of the stalls in back. Planks of wood, masses of tangled rope and rusted chain, and what looked like parts of two or three different broken carts.

And throughout it all their bodies continued to change. Lori had just enough attention to spare to keep track of that.

Their toes developed fully into cloven hooves, the shuffle of bare feet soon replaced with solid clopping on the flagstone floor. Their legs remained the same shape above the ankles but they sprouted a coat of short, dense hair from the knees down. A similar coat grew on their hips and lower back, spreading up until it just reached their ribs. Maria's new hair was brown, the same shade as her old hair, but Lori's was coming in white with large irregular black patches that were distributed all over her body. ''Like a Holstein,'' she recognized with embarrassment. Having an identifiable ''breed'' somehow made things seem even worse.

Their horns grew four inches long and their ears six, both sticking out from the sides of their heads. The pads of skin on the ends of their noses darkened and their nostrils broadened into cow-like snouts, though to their relief the rest of their faces remained essentially unchanged. Their ropy tails lengthened rapidly until the thick brush of hair at the ends almost reached the ground. They flicked reflexively, almost without conscious control, and Maria gave an occasional startled flinch when it brushed against her bare calves.

And their udders swelled, bulging out below their navels until even Lori had to bow to the inevitable and open her fly to let it out. The four teats sprouted from mere bumps to finger-length protrusions, gaining sensitivity to match their original nipples. Lori tried avoiding that part of her anatomy most of all but the way it bounced as she walked made it hard to ignore.

It was around mid-afternoon when the changes finally seemed to stabilize. Maria's breasts stopped at around C- or D-cup, large but not unmanageable, and while her udder would definitely get in the way of any pants she tried to wear it was a manageable D-cup as well... assuming that measure was actually applicable to udders. Lori's were both noticeably larger, but her breasts had started out larger to begin with so she assumed that had simply translated across.

Somewhat less significant, but still important, was the fact that they'd finally finished cleaning up the barn. The two were feeling emotionally and physically exhausted and they sat down together on their makeshift bench to recuperate, tails hanging restlessly in back and legs slightly splayed to give their udders room in front. For a while they just rested, leaning lightly against each other for support.

"Hey, your collar's stopped glowing," Maria suddenly observed. It was the first words either of them had spoken in quite a while and Lori's ears flicked in surprise at her voice's timbre; it was still feminine but it had dropped half an octave to a throatier tone.

"Yeah, yours too..." her own voice had also changed. She sighed; they even ''sounded'' a little cow-like now. "I guess the spell's run its course. So this is how a 'Taurus' looks."

Maria nodded, her expression haunted. "I... I guess it's not so bad..."

Lori snorted and her ears flicked again, this time in surprise at the increased snorting capacity of her snout. She reflexively licked the pad of leathery skin covering the end of her nose and flushed red with embarrassment. Her tongue had enlarged too, though fortunately not to as large a degree as her breasts. "I disagree," she mumbled once she'd regathered her wits.

"Sorry," Maria sighed. "I guess I was just thinking... I don't know." Tears welled and Lori realized she'd been struggling to put on a brave face. She silently kicked herself for her insensitivity and put an arm over Maria's shoulder, offering her own silent apology. Their horns poked awkwardly as Maria accepted it by snuggling in closer, resting her head against Lori.

Lori felt a pleasant tingle from Maria's closeness again, a warm sensation swelling in her gut. ''As if these new parts didn't feel strange enough already...'' She grumbled to herself in silent confusion.

They were interrupted by the sound of the house door opening and then approaching footsteps on the path outside, causing both to sit bolt upright again and turn their ears to catch any clue of their visitor's identity. The steps were slightly unsteady on the rough ground, not like Jera's graceful elven gait, so they both relaxed slightly even before the barn door pulled open.

Even though the black and white French maid's uniform was quite distinctive, both Lori and Maria did a double-take before they were sure of the identity of the person inside it. Bryce had also changed. His figure had pulled in dramatically at the waist and bulged at the chest and hips, his arms had slimmed, his legs become downright shapely in their fishnet stockings. His hair had lengthened and lightened in color and was now done up under the headpiece in - of course - a French braid. And his face was hardly recognizable, the features now clearly feminine and touched with a hint of makeup.

He, or perhaps now 'she', was carrying another bucket and blushing deeply. But when he saw Lori and Maria he did a double-take of his own, dropping the bucket in surprise and seeming to forget his own predicament for a moment. "Oh!"

Lori gave Bryce a rueful grin. "Come in, 'Bridgette.' I guess we've got stories to swap." Her stomach rumbled quietly at the thought of food but she figured she could hold off a bit under the circumstances.

Bryce's blush deepened. "Please, do not call me that," he asked as he walked over mincingly in his high heels. The pitch of his voice had raised a half octave, meeting theirs in the middle, and there was an odd cadence to his speech that Lori couldn't quite place at first. "It is bad enough that ze Mistress, uh, ''the'' Mistress, she calls me that all ze time..." He shook his head and paused for a moment, putting down the bucket again and rubbing his temples. "God, I can't keep my tongue straight. But what 'as 'appened to ''you''?"

"We're 'Tauruses' now," Maria explained morosely. "Or Tauri, maybe. We're supposed to be agricultural workers or something..."

Lori let Maria talk, too caught up for the moment in studying Bryce. He was actually developing a French ''accent.'' She noticed that his collar had changed appearance somewhat, becoming narrow and black, but the silver charm with the feather duster symbol was still in place on it and unlike their own was still glowing faintly. "Are you still changing?" She asked bluntly once Maria had finished her brief summary.

Bryce grimaced and ducked his head slightly, tugging nervously at the edges of his skirt. "Oui. Uh, yes, dammit." He sighed. "I... I am still turning into a woman, I can feel it. 'Ell, even zis clothing is changing, it becomes tighter all ze time. And worse..." He trailed off, too upset to continue.

"Worse?" Maria prompted.

Bryce shook his head. "I've just been playing along with ze Mistress, pretending to like doing ze things she asks, trying to follow all ze little silly rules... but now it is getting hard to stop." She closed her eyes and took a shaky breath, chest swelling noticeably in the cups of his bustier. "I can't ''stop'' playing along. Is it even playing along any more when I can't stop? Were... were you right about me, mon ami?"

After all that had happened to them Lori had not expected to be in a situation to give ''Bryce'' comfort, but with the way he was opening up and on the verge of breaking down she couldn't help but offer a spot on their makeshift bench. The maid sat down very carefully and with some distance between them - Lori decided not to take it personally, he had delicate petticoats to consider - and gave a few dainty sniffles. She waited for him to either recover his equilibrium or lose it completely.

"I'm sorry," he said at last. "I'm being selfish. You two are obviously in a bad way yourselves..." He sniffed one last time, rubbing the tears from his eyes and reflexively smoothing his dress and hair. "I must look a mess, am I presentable?"

The concern over his appearance was probably another part of 'playing along' that he was having trouble resisting, but Lori gave a quiet chuckle she hoped would be taken as supportive. "Quite. You didn't even smear your makeup."

"I 'ave makeup?" Bryce blinked in surprise. Lori grimaced, realizing that what she'd taken for lipstick and eye shadow were apparently just altered skin pigmentation. She supposed it was pretty minor compared to the big black splotches she'd developed on her own skin, but it would probably still come as a bit of a shock when Bryce finally encountered a mirror.

"I take it you were sent to bring us food again?" Maria asked, quickly changing the subject to something a bit closer to their own hearts.

Bryce's expression became almost comically alarmed. "Oh! Of course, ze Mistress' instructions!" Then he smiled briefly. "I suppose it's promising zat I can still have zat... that I can still have that slip my mind." Lori nodded encouragingly, though her own thoughts were turning more firmly to hunger as well and she mainly just wanted him to get on with it. "She had some other things too, but oui, ze food is pour vous. For you."

That was all the prompting they needed. They got to their hooves and crouched on either side of the bucket, digging in right there on the floor. It was even lower grade kitchen scraps this time, just stalks and leaves and peels from various vegetables, but Lori found that it didn't seem to matter. Her molars had broadened and her jaw muscles were stronger now, allowing her to grind the tough plant matter up just as well as regular food. And the taste was quite good, actually.

For a long while they ate intently and in silence, tails twitching back and forth without thought. Then, as they reached the bottom of the bucket, they discovered that hidden under the greens was a small loaf of freshly-baked bread. Lori blinked, flicking her ears and licking her nose in a moment of confusion. Then she remembered Bryce, turning to look quizzically in his direction. He was still sitting on the makeshift bench, watching them eat with a vaguely appalled expression. She couldn't believe she'd forgotten he was still there.

He jumped slightly at Lori's attention and wiped the expression from his face. "Um, a present," he mumbled bashfully. "My first attempt at baking zis morning. Ze Mistress, she say eet is no good. But she did not tell me how to dispose of eet, so I bring you some... a peace offering."

Lori was actually a little touched; Bryce must ''really'' be feeling out of sorts. "Thanks. You didn't have to do that." Though she was absolutely stuffed she was sure she could handle a bit more. Real human food would be most welcome after all that roughage.

But Maria picked up the loaf and sniffed it while Lori spoke, an expression of distaste flitting over her bovine features that she quickly managed to hide. "Lori, can we save this for later?" She suggested.

Lori nodded. "You're right, it'll make an excellent snack. Thanks again, Bryce."

Bryce smiled. Then he looked startled again, remembering something. "Oh, ze rest of ze Mistress' instructions!" He shook his head. "She cannot be here zis afternoon, she is out on business. She say zat once you 'ave finished cleaning ze barn, you may go outside."

"''May'' go out?" Lori asked with a snort.

Bryce nodded, repeating the words Jera had used if not the accent they'd been spoken in. Then, reluctantly, he climbed to his feet. "As for myself, I 'ave my own chores," he sighed. "I 'ave wasted enough time already... I hope I will be able to visit you again, and not just as Bridgette. Au revoir." He picked up the bucket and headed back toward the house again, his gait noticeably more feminine and steadier on his high heels than it had been even when he'd arrived not more than half an hour ago.

Lori shook her head after they'd watched him go. "That maid spell he's under seems even more extreme than our cow ones in some ways," she murmured. "At least in how it's affecting his behavior. These elves must have stolen some bad porn or something. I hope that thing on his collar wears out soon..."

"Lori, have some bread." Maria offered Lori the loaf, a serious tone in her deepened voice. Lori cocked her head, puzzled, but took the bread and raised it cautiously to her mouth.

It was still warm, the scent strong and as far as Lori could tell delicious. She had no idea why Jera had rejected it. But all the same, she found that she couldn't bring herself to take a bite. "Um..."

"Yeah, I got that too," Maria sighed. "It's not what we're supposed to eat."

That was a very disturbing feeling. Lori gritted her teeth - big, broad teeth intended for raw and fibrous plants, not for baked goods. "God damn it. I'll eat what I like." But she still just held the bread.

Maria smiled sympathetically. "Maybe later when we're hungry again. Bryce said we could go outside now, though, how about we try that?"

Lori nodded and set the loaf aside. They'd been trapped in the barn for almost a full day now, it would be a good change of scenery if nothing else. The two cow-girls went over to the door, approaching the threshold cautiously. Lori remembered well the terrible feeling she'd got when she'd tried passing here the day before... but this time there was only their own uneasiness and they poked their heads out without any outside influences moving to prevent them.

Lori and Maria stuck close together as they went out onto the overgrown lawn, their cloven hooves muffled by the sod. The Sun was still fairly high in the sky and it took a few minutes for their eyes to adjust after the relative shade of the barn's interior. The air was fresh and warm. The sense of freedom was almost overwhelming.

''What's the catch?'' Lori wondered suspiciously, running her fingertips through her tangled black hair and rubbing her scalp in thought. Her hand came up against the base of one of her horns and she grimaced, taking hold and giving it a frustrated jerk that did absolutely nothing to dislodge it from her skull. ''Aside from the cow thing, of course.'' She knew it couldn't be as simple as just wandering off.

One problem was that she had no idea what the lay of the land was. This was the first time she'd been anywhere in this world on her own recognizance. "Let's explore a bit," she suggested. Maria nodded, taking Lori's hand.

{{Separator|d|Part 7}}

The manor house's back yard was at the eastern corner of a large and roughly triangular open field, the rolling terrain bounded in the distance by hedgerow and forest. There was a large but weedy-looking garden patch with an ornate wooden fence around it, more decorative than a serious barrier, and several large sheds and other minor outbuildings that looked like they were dedicated to storage.

Really, what was to ''stop'' them from just wandering off? There wasn't a soul to be seen, elf or otherwise. Lori took the lead as they started off away from the barn and along the edge of the field.

Ironically enough, the field turned out to have been used most recently as a cow pasture. There were still strong traces of the scent in the air that they could identify despite the rather strong background odor they'd picked up for themselves from their work in the barn. Every once in a while one of them stepped in the remnants of an old cow pie hidden in the grass and Lori tried not to think of going bare-hoofed the same as going barefoot. It wasn't really the same.

"Ooh!" Maria's approving sigh came as they topped one of the taller rises and saw a small pond nestled in the hollow immediately beyond it. Lori trailed along as Maria picked up the pace, trying to keep up while minimizing the bouncing of breast and udder. Since hers were bigger she was at a bit of a disadvantage and released Maria's hand to let her go on ahead.

Maria's hooves squelched into the soft muddy soil at the water's edge and she paused for a moment to strip off her shirt. Lori blinked in surprise, huffing "What're you doing?" As she caught up.

Maria gave Lori a 'duh' look. "I'm hot, I'm sweaty, I've been cleaning a barn all day and I feel filthy. I'm going to wash." She tossed her shirt to Lori and then started wading into the water, moving slowly to keep her balance.

Lori was aghast. The pond was clearly just a large slough, from the old hoof prints churning up the shore the water must have had countless cattle polluting it over the years. But on the other hand... she looked down at her feet, noting how similar her own tracks in the mud were.

''I am not a cow,'' Lori reminded herself firmly. ''No matter what spells these fucking elves cast on me.'' "I don't think that water's safe," she called out to Maria.

Maria was up to her mid-thighs already. "No, it's fine," she called back, continuing to forge ahead. "The slope's gentle. Kind of slippery bottom, but-" She stepped in a slight depression, stumbling a few steps, then suddenly stiffened. "Oh God! Oh! Oh!"

"What? What?" Lori dropped Maria's shirt and immediately splashed a few yards out into the water, intent to rescue her friend from whatever terrible fate had befallen her. But she skidded to a stop when Maria turned back toward shore and she saw the look on her face. She was flushed red with embarrassment but also the verge of barely constrained laughter.

"S-sorry," she stammered. "Cold water... on my, uh, my udder."

Lori blinked. It was an absurd moment, even after all the insanity she'd been through over the past day. ''Just about twenty four hours since I was kidnapped,'' she realized. ''Less than half that in this condition. I can barely accept that it's happened yet. I don't ''want'' to accept that it's happened yet.''

Lori laced her fingers under her own udder where it protruded from the open front of her jeans, hefting it gently. "Thanks for the warning," she answered with a wry grin. Maria grinned back and then resumed wading deeper.

Lori's grin faded away, uncertain how to proceed. She was standing in water up to her knees, which meant her jeans were already soaked and wicking more moisture upward by the second. She waded back to shore and moved to a patch of reasonably dry grass. Getting her pants off to was a bit of a struggle on account of having to de-thread her tail through the back while balancing on hooves, but she managed it reasonably quickly and spread them out to dry.

Maria had reached the middle of the pond where the water was up to mid-chest, her breasts bobbing slightly as she moved. She seemed to be enjoying herself and Lori really did feel hot and filthy from all that work they'd done... The water couldn't be more contaminated than what they'd just spent all morning shoveling out of the barn, could it?

She realized there was no way she was going to be able to sort out her confused feelings right now, so she might as well just go ahead and act on them. She added her own shirt to the pile and, clad only in her panties and collar, headed down to join Maria.

The water was indeed cold, causing her already ludicrously large nipples to go 'spung' the moment her lower teats dipped in. She was more prepared than Maria had been so she just gave a little gasp and forged onward. It was nice to get the caked grime and sweat off, she had to admit, and the water wasn't so bad now that she was in it.

Maria had crouched down to wash her neck and she stood back up when Lori reached her, the water sluicing down off her breasts in a glistening display that was oddly captivating. Lori found herself flushed and feeling warmer than she should have at that temperature. She averted her gaze, ears flicking awkwardly, and started rubbing the water on her arms to get cleaned off more quickly.

"Would you like me to do your back?" Maria asked softly.

Lori's heart skipped a beat. She was so confused now she didn't trust herself to speak, her altered body sending her all manner of feelings and desires like she hadn't felt before. She wanted to deny them all but some of them were so strong... She nodded hesitantly.

Maria moved behind her and gently ran her hands up Lori's spine, the touch of the cold water sending a shiver through Lori's body and setting all six of her nipples throbbing. She worked slowly, massaging as much as cleaning, and Lori tried to allow it to be relaxing. Maria leaned closer, the warm breath on the back of Lori's neck dispelling some of the chill. It was working.

"Did you know you've got a spot shaped almost exactly like the British Isles back here?" Maria asked.

Lori blinked, having actually forgotten about the patchy Holstein coloration her skin had developed. It broke the moment. She pulled away with a small gasp, though the sloshing muddy water preventing her from getting far, and turned to face Maria.

There was a look of confusion on Maria's face almost as strong as Lori's own. "I'm sorry, did I do something wrong?"

Lori shook her head. "No, I-" she broke off, considering her response carefully. Maria's expression was mixed with both longing and concern and Lori's heart was aching at the sight. "I liked it. I like ''you''. I'm just confused. I don't like what these elves have done to us and I don't know which of my feelings are really real."

"What do you mean?"

Lori didn't think Maria was being deliberately obtuse but it surprised her all the same. "I mean, uh, this feeling between us... this attraction. I feel it, I'm sure you can tell. But I'm not sure where it's coming from."

Now it was Maria's turn to be surprised. "You weren't queer? I mean, back at university, before?"

"I... I don't think I was," Lori answered awkwardly.

Maria smiled, equally awkward. "I'm sorry, all this time I was getting those vibes, and I kind of always thought... maybe if... I didn't want to say anything. But now, stuck like this, I didn't want to be alone."

The two stood facing each other in the chest-deep water for a moment, the silence stretching as Lori's mind whirled and her heart pounded. ''I've been kidnapped by elves, dammit,'' she thought plaintively. ''After everything else that's happened why is ''this'' throwing me so badly?''

''Maybe because this is about who and what I really am,'' she answered herself.

Slave. Cow-girl. Lesbian. Which of those were real? Lori actually felt like her knees were about to give out, and Maria must have picked up on that because she moved forward to catch her before they did. Lori didn't pull away this time and they stood for a long moment in an embrace, holding each other with their breasts and udders pressing together warmly in the cold water.

"How do you feel?" Maria asked at last.

Lori looked searchingly at Maria's face, the bovine nose not making her any less attractive. ''This shouldn't be romantic,'' part of her thought giddily. But the fire in her belly said otherwise and she found herself leaning forward. Maria met her in a kiss. It was tentative at first but soon grew passionate, their tongues probing each others' lips and their hands moving more intimately over each others' bodies. Maria's fingertips slid down the side of Lori's thigh and under her panties to rub lightly over her labia, stoking the fire hotter and setting Lori throbbing with desire. "Ooh," Lori moaned deep in the back of her throat. "That's good..."

The two spent a while out there in the water exploring each other further. Lori was still a little uncertain of herself, though, and so they didn't keep at it long before Maria reluctantly eased off. They were both left hot and flustered despite the Sun starting to get a little low in the sky.

"Okay," Maria finally asked, "So what do we do about this now?"

Lori shook her head. "No fucking clue. I suppose we should get out of the water at some point..." She grimaced at a sudden realization and an even brighter flush reddened her face. "I've lost my panties in here somewhere."

Maria couldn't help but chuckle. The muddy bottom had been thoroughly churned up and if they weren't floating now there was no chance of finding them. "Come on out anyway, I promise not to look."

Her shyness was silly, Lori readily admitted to herself, but even after all that had happened to her there was a difference between walking around in her panties and walking around ''completely'' nude. Well, aside from her collar... Lori trudged determinedly to shore, trying not to think about it. She and Maria stood air-drying for a few minutes in what was left of the sunlight before they slipped back into the clothing they'd left on the shore.

They were relatively clean and felt energized. Lori looked out at the hedgerow marking the far boundary of the field, where they'd been heading before getting a little sidetracked - Lori snorted at the private understatement - and considered heading onward with Maria. Perhaps something would stop them, but perhaps not; she was in the mood for testing boundaries now.

But there was a competing urge welling up as dusk approached, one she had less of an explanation for. She swished her tail restlessly at the internal conflict. "We should be getting back to the barn now," Maria finally gave the urge voice.

This was definitely the cow part of her talking, Lori realized, no question. She could recall Jera mentioning that elves enchanted their farm animals to care for themselves, and they seemed to have inherited more than just the appearance. "I don't know if we should."

Maria smiled wryly. "What, become wild cattle? I don't think I have that in me. I..."

"We're ''people'', Maria," Lori insisted. "We're not cows. This is just some spell, we'll figure out some way to break it. We don't have to do what Mistress Livremor wants."

Maria shook her head sadly. "I was paying attention in the coach too, Lori. I still don't know much about how elf magic works, don't know if I ever will, but she said that in this world enchantments can't be broken. If that's true... Maybe you should start calling me Annabell."

After feeling so good just so short a while ago it was a hard thought to have to grapple with. "We're not stuck like this forever," Lori insisted.

"Well... I guess she could have been lying." But Lori could tell from Maria's wistful sigh that she didn't really believe that. For Lori's part she was having a hard time putting herself in that mindset even hypothetically; there ''had'' to be some way out. She couldn't imagine thinking about what to do if this was forever.

With an uncomfortable silence between them now they both decided it was time to get moving, so they started off together away from the slough. It was only after they'd walked most of the way there that Lori realized she'd turned back toward the barn without a thought. For a moment she considered turning around again right then and there, stalking off into the night regardless of the consequences, but she was starting to feel a bit tired.

''Tomorrow,'' she promised herself. ''I'll look for a way out tomorrow.''

{{Separator|d|Part 8}}

The cock's insistent crowing was loud in Lori's enlarged ears, dragging her awake without the help of an adrenaline surge this time. She sat up ponderously in her hay-pile bed, yawning and stretching with a groan.

''Still a cow-girl.'' She couldn't really think of a good reaction to that any more. What was she supposed to do, wake up every morning screaming? Instead she just scratched the hairy hide on her hip and flicked the tip of her tail.

The soft clunking of hoof on wood elsewhere in the loft indicated that Maria was already up and about. Lori climbed to her own hooves and carefully slipped on her pants and shirt, wincing slightly at the sensitivity of her breasts and udder. They felt swollen, even compared to their 'normal' large size. She hoped she hadn't slept on them wrong or picked up some infection.

Lori found Maria at the far end of the loft, hefting bales of hay and moving them from one pile to another. She seemed pretty intent on the task and Lori was impressed with the strength she was putting into it. "Hey, how are you doing? And what are you doing?"

Maria looked up from her current bale and smiled in greeting. "Oh, good morning. I, uh, just felt like getting to work right away..."

Lori shook her head. There wasn't much tidying left to be done in the barn any more, rearranging the bales didn't seem particularly urgent or purposeful. But on the other hand, it did seem to be a good way to get the blood flowing after waking up. She helped Maria shift a few.

They hadn't spoken much after they'd got back the previous night. Nobody had been in the barn, though another bucket of fodder had been left for them - Jera had evidently been quite confident of their return. They had eaten their meal, rinsed themselves and their clothes as best they could with water from the rain barrel, and then had gone to bed in the loft much as they had the night before. This time Lori had spent a lot longer lying awake, though, gazing over at her companion already asleep in the hay beside her.

In hindsight she wondered if she had seen any signs that Maria was gay. Hell, she wondered if she had seen any signs about her own orientation. She probably had, but had just misinterpreted them without giving them enough thought. But at least there was the strange comfort that this wasn't the biggest change she was having to deal with right now.

Lori dropped the last bale into place in the reorganized pile with a grunt and took a moment to survey their work. "We need aprons," she suddenly announced.

"Eh?" Maria paused, shaking her head and brushing at her horns to get a snagged tuft of hay off. "Why?"

She gestured at her bulging udder. "I'm ''ticklish'', okay?" ''And tender,'' she added silently.

Maria actually gave a deep-throated chuckle at the comment. A moment later, though, their ears twitched in unison and they were interrupted by the sound of the barn door being pushed open. Then they both sighed in relief at the click of high-heeled shoes on flagstone. Those shoes meant Bryce, which meant breakfast. The two quit what they were doing and climbed down the ladder to meet him halfway.

Meet ''her'' halfway. The charm on her collar - now a black satin choker with white lace edging - was no longer glowing, having evidently finished its magical work. Her face was unrecognizable now, features fully feminine and enhanced with 'makeup.' Her figure looked almost painful, waist held in snug by the bustier and breasts pushed up close to the size of their own. Lori noted with a twinge of irony that she actually did have a frilly white apron as part of her uniform, but decided she definitely didn't want one like that.

She wasn't carrying anything else with her this time. The two girls clopped to a puzzled halt. Bryce sighed, keeping her embarrassed gaze cast down at their hooves. "Bonjour," she lilted sweetly, "ah am sorry, ah 'ave no food pour vous zis morning."

The combination of her voice's altered tone and heavy accent made it hard to tell what her attitude really was and Lori swallowed nervously. "Um, Bryce?" She asked. "Or Bridgette...?"

The maid smiled, seemingly a vacuous expression but with a definite haunted look to her eyes. "Ah am still in 'ere," she murmured quietly. "But zis magic, zis charm..." she fingered her choker. "Eet is like she ees in my 'ead, you know? Ah try to say somezing, or ah try to do somezing, but eet is Bridgét who says and does..." She trailed off with a sigh, then shook her head. "Ah cannot believe eet has come to zis, my life. But ah must live, non?"

"Yeah, I know what you mean..." Lori nodded, relieved at least that 'Bridgette' was still only just a shell over the real Bryce. She had come to realize that their earlier antagonism had really been quite petty and she regretted it. She still didn't necessarily ''like'' Bryce, though... ''Heh. He's turned into a woman and he's still not my type.'' It was a strange reassurance in a way.

"Are you bringing orders from Mistress Livremor, then?" Maria asked.

Bryce nodded. "Oui. She say zat zis morning, you will go to ze garden and tend to ze plants yourselves. She say zat ah must prepare ze casserole, I need to 'ave fresh carrot, caulifleur..." She rattled off a short list of vegetables and the two of them nodded at each.

"Where is she right now?" Lori asked when Bryce was done.

"She ees going to teach me ze casserole she likes. Ze Mistress, she ees very hands-on. And ze magic charm, eets training only goes so far..." A rueful grin tugged at Bryce's pouting ruby-red lips. "Ah 'ave not even gained ze true Français, just a few random words and zis stupid accent."

Lori shook her head, tail lashing angrily. "We're ''fashionable'' slaves. It doesn't have to make sense or be practical."

"Oui. Ze Mistress, ah think she is trés vain. Ah do not think she ees as wealthy as she likes, and so she ees putting on ze airs..." Bryce sighed. "And ah must return to her now and play along. Ah will try to learn. Au revoir, mon vache."

Bryce parted their company, heading back to the house. They gathered up a few gardening tools from around the barn that they hoped would be useful - Lori found something resembling a small plough with a human-sized yoke and hoped it wasn't intended to be used by them at some point - and made their way out as well, heading for the garden patch.

Neither of them had much experience with this sort of thing but fortunately their task looked quite straightforward. The garden was overgrown but had apparently been well planted before it fell to neglect, the vegetables they were after were all there in abundance. They pulled a few of each, setting them aside on a sheet of burlap. The vegetables themselves were off limits just like the bread had been, Lori could tell that without even trying to eat any this time, so the girls were forced to satisfy their own hunger by browsing on some of the more succulent weeds as they went.

And without having to be zapped by her collar, either... Lori rubbed the thick leather band absently while she chewed. It hadn't zapped her since they'd finished changing, now that she thought of it. She'd just somehow ''known'' what was 'wrong', and that doing the wrong thing just felt bad. It was like the magic had moved inside her head too.

"Annabell! Bess!" Jera's distant call snapped Lori out of her uncomfortable train of thought. The two hurriedly picked up the corners of the burlap and carried their haul to the house. Lori felt a strange sense of foreboding as she and Maria got close, their hoofsteps faltering as they arrived at the back porch.

Despite Jera's summons going inside the house felt ''very'' wrong. Lori reached for the door handle experimentally. ''Dirty!'' The thought made her pull her hand back and she frowned in confusion. ''Dirty? It looks clean to me... oh.''

''She'' was dirty. And she realized that no amount of washing would change that feeling. It was just not appropriate for a farm animal to go inside an elf dwelling.

Jera opened the door and stepped outside. "Ah, there you are. I wondered what was keeping you. Bridgette!" Bryce stepped out to join her, giving an obsequious little curtsy. "Take these vegetables inside and prepare what you need, I'll be back to the kitchen shortly." Bryce curtsied again and took the burlap from Lori's hand, giving her a secretive little nod of thanks that Lori barely registered.

"You two, go put down some fresh straw in one of the stalls," Jera told them. "Make sure it's done by noon. I will be coming to inspect and instruct after lunch." Then she was gone too, leaving Lori to silently fume.

Maria put her hand on Lori's shoulder and gave her a supportive squeeze, then nudged her to come along with her back toward the barn.

"I am not a cow." Lori spoke through gritted teeth, the comment aimed at nobody in particular.

"I know." Maria's soft-spoken response seemed to Lori to be meant as just a platitude, and her anger only grew. Was Maria just ''accepting'' this? It had only been a day!

But Lori found she couldn't keep her anger up for long, and certainly not at Maria. She finally yielded to Maria's nudge and the two of them walked back to the barn. It seemed that this would be their living space for the foreseeable future now.

"Even Brittney Spears never had to put up with this..." Lori sighed.

Maria blinked. "Wha?"

"On that show you liked, 'The Simple Life'"

Maria shook her head. "She wasn't on that, it was Paris Hilton."

"Oh." Lori flicked her tail, thinking for a moment. "Okay, maybe ''she's'' woken up in a barn with her boobs hanging out before." Maria chuckled and even Lori felt a little better; even in her current state she could still look down on Paris Hilton.

The two got to work, hauling down a couple of bales of straw and spreading them on the floor in the two stalls farthest to the back. The padding muffled their hooves nicely but didn't otherwise make the stalls seem very comfortable or 'homey.' "I hope Mistress Livremor isn't thinking of banning us from the loft," Maria mused, obviously thinking along the same lines.

Lori snorted. "We can't go in a real house, so for now ''this'' is our house. We'll sleep in the loft if we want." It wasn't exactly the most ambitious line to draw in the sand but Lori was willing to set her sights a bit lower right now.

Maria nodded. "Still, let's go get some rest while we can. Be a shame to have rearranged it this morning for nothing."

Lori followed Maria up the ladder, curious about what she meant. When she took a second look at the bales of hay that she'd helped Maria stack that morning, though, she chuckled. She hadn't noticed how Maria had been laying out walls into a sort of crude apartment. "Hey, nice idea."

"Thanks." Maria sat down on the other side of one of the bales and stripped off her shirt with a relieved sigh. "I thought we could use the privacy." She lightly massaged her breasts.

Lori's ears flicked back in surprise and she was momentarily unsettled. But Maria's ginger touch didn't seem intended as sexy or inviting and Lori realized she must be having the same tenderness issues that she was. "After what happened yesterday in the pond I'm not sure privacy is really a major concern..."

Maria smiled. "I don't want to rush you into anything. I know that might have been just an impulsive moment..."

"No, I'm okay." Lori pulled off her own shirt and sighed too. "And if nothing else, I've been in plenty of locker rooms." She sat down and tried to relax, her enlarged nipples throbbing but feeling a little better now that they were out from under the constraint of her shirt. She closed her eyes and leaned back, waited for the throbbing to subside.

Maria gave a quiet moan. Lori tried to ignore it, not wanting to intrude. But after a few minutes Maria moaned again, more loudly this time, and then a third time. Lori lifted her head and opened her eyes, turning slightly to glance over at Maria. "Maoooh-" Lori clapped her hand to her mouth, stifling a moan of her own.

It startled Maria too, or at least its sudden cut-off did. "Lori?"

Lori lifted her hand and spoke very carefully, keeping her voice under control. "You were mooing."

Maria snorted incredulously. "I was just-"

"Moaah!" Lori clapped her hand back in place, the interruption having welled up without warning from somewhere deep in her gut. Her face flushed bright red. ''This is new, dammit. But we finished changing already!''

Maria paused, and then resumed speaking with deliberation. "My breasts feel swollen. My udder, too. I feel full. I think..." She trailed off, not wanting to state the obvious idea out loud. Then she let out another loud moan and flinched, realizing for the first time that she had no control over making the sound.

Lori kept one hand firmly over her mouth and used the other to grip one of her lower teats. ''Stay calm, girl,'' she thought to herself. ''Now, how does this work?'' She squeezed gently, trying to find the right motion. It felt good, at least. It felt-

A squirt of white fluid shot out of the tip and sprayed on the wooden floor. "Mmph!" She barely stifled the startled exclamation, even though she'd been expecting it. ''Wrong! Wrong! This is wrong! Mustn't spill!'' She yanked her hand away and scrambled to her hooves, breasts and udder bouncing almost painfully from the extra weight that had accumulated in them since yesterday. "I'm not a cow, I'm ''not!''"

Lori glaring around the loft for a moment as if challenging the universe to an argument. Then the response came from her own mouth in the form of another moo, as unstoppable as a hiccup. She clamped her mouth shut.

"We're lactating. We need to be milked, Lori," Maria spoke quietly and with infuriating resignation from where she sat. "We filled up overnight. That must be what this lowing is about. A signal that we're ready."

Lori shook her head, refusing to believe it. ''No way is Jera milking us. That elf wouldn't get her oh-so-elegant hands dirty with something like that, anyway. Which means...'' Lori's ears pinned back and she bared her teeth. ''No way is ''Bryce'' milking me!'' She'd forgiven him for getting them caught, more or less, considering how bad his own situation had wound up. And there was no way she'd be making fun of his new accent now. But she still didn't like him - her - particularly much and the image of the maid working her teats was too much. "Mustn't spill. Damn that charm, mustn't spill... we need a pail. Maybe we can do this ourselvesmmm." She barely stopped herself from lowing again, though the sensation of doing so was as unpleasant as stifling a sneeze.

Maria got up and helped her search but to Lori's amazement despite all the junk that had been in the barn she didn't find anything that felt suitable. None of the potential containers were hygenic enough, large enough, or otherwise able to satisfy the magic compulsion lurking in the back of her brain that required her to make sure her milk didn't go to waste.

Lori kept herself muffled but Maria let herself moo freely, settling in to a frequency of about thirty seconds to a minute between each. It grated on her nerves. Finally, though, her big bovine ears picked up a different sound; a distant heavy clop of horse's hooves on the dirt road and the creaking rumble of wagon wheels. She and Maria halted their hunt and listened as it stopped for a minute out by the house. Then a smaller set of hooves started clopping closer. They stopped again just outside.

The door opened to reveal Jera Livremor. Lori tensed, reflexively pawing at the ground and snorting, and Maria put a worried hand on Lori's arm to keep her from doing anything rash.

"Good afternoon, girls!" Jera called out cheerfully as she entered. "I have brought your new charge, the start of a new herd for this farm. Her name is Clara. I hope you've prepared that stall for her."

She was followed obediently through the door by an ordinary young calf. It was still gangly and wobbly on its legs, clearly only a matter of days old. This was not at all what Lori had been expecting and in that brief moment of confusion she let her guard down, the moo she'd been holding in slipping free.

The calf perked up at the sound and began to advance toward her, giving an eager bleat of its own. Lori found herself retreating from a horror she couldn't have imagined just days ago. Jera actually let out a laugh at the scene. "Oh, don't tease the little dear, Bess! She had a long and hungry ride over here."

Maria took a deep breath. "Moooaaah!" The calf halted, turning toward her instead.

Lori halted too, locking gazes with Maria. She looked determined, and Lori realized that she'd let out that diversionary moo deliberately. Was she trying to protect her? "Maria..."

Maria shook her head. "Annabell," she murmured back. The calf nuzzled up to Maria's udder and she closed her eyes for a moment, wincing. But then the calf took her teat and began to nurse, and her expression changed to one of relief bordering on ecstasy. "Mmmooh, I needed that," she sighed.

Lori couldn't take the sight and turned, fleeing back up into the loft. The bouncing of her udder was quite uncomfortable by this point, all the moreso now that she knew there was relief for her condition waiting just downstairs. It was an unacceptable relief. Sure, perhaps she needed it right now, and she could perhaps handle it as a one-time thing. But would she be full again the next morning? And the morning after that? And...

''I am not a cow!'' She grabbed her shirt from where she'd left it and gingerly tried slipping it back on, but her swollen nipples were just too sensitive now. Not to mention the quiet, insistent feeling in the back of her mind that she really should leave them exposed for ease of access... Lori let out a deep, moaning moo, and hurled her shirt angrily into the corner. "Fine, yoou want me naked? Fine!" She stripped off her jeans too, leaving her with just the collar. She grabbed it and started trying to pull it open, but although there was no warning zap this time she knew with sick certainty that there was no way it was going to come off. It represented the elf magic that bound her, that was now fully a part of her.

It was some time before Maria eventually climbed up into the loft too, approaching as gently as she could on cloven hooves. Lori was sitting on a straw bale and didn't speak, jaw clamped tightly shut to stifle her lowing, but Maria had recovered from her need and spoke softly. "Um... are you mad at me?"

Lori met her gaze. Maria hadn't been afraid down below with that ravenous calf bearing down at her, but now she was clearly frightened. Tears were on her cheeks not from the humiliation she'd just experienced but from fear of what Lori thought of her for it. Lori shook her head.

Maria smiled, looking as relieved as she'd been when that calf had started draining her. "Thank god. I swear, I didn't want to go first, but you looked so scared... I promise, it wasn't bad. Clara was eager but very well behaved. She should be a little less enthusiastic now, too."

Lori cocked her head, puzzled. "Mmroo?"

Maria glanced over to the ladder leading down. "For your turn. Taurids aren't as big as real cows, Clara's still hungry and I'm tapped out." The calf sent a plaintive moo of its own up from below, as if in confirmation.

Lori stood up, wincing at the heavy bounce of her swollen mammaries. "Nnoo!"

"Please, Bess!"

Lori froze and stared at Maria again. She was smiling earnestly, but was there something more to her expression? ''Jera sent her up,'' she realized.

Maria gave a small nod, the fear back in her eyes again. "Mistress Livremor wants me to bring you back down," she spoke quietly. "S-she gave me these..." Maria held up a set of fine silver manacles she'd been keeping tucked discreetly out of sight. "I don't want to use them, I don't want you to be mad. But it wasn't so bad, and we have to accept..."

"Moaaah," Lori lowed, then shook her head and tried again. "Moooah..." She gritted her teeth. She needed to be milked so badly now that she couldn't even get Maria's name out without mooing.

"She said she'd send Bridgette up if I didn't," Maria added tearfully.

That did it. There was no way Lori was going to let Bryce chain her up. But Maria, at least, she trusted. And there was no escaping her need to be milked, not any more. She reluctantly held out her hands.

"Behind your back," Maria specified. Lori flushed and embarrassed red and turned around, complying. The silver cuffs clicked into place and Lori thought she felt a tingle, but shook her head. Considering all it had done to her already there was little to fear from additional elf magic.

The two descended back down to the main floor, Maria holding Lori steady as she went down the ladder without free hands. Jera and Clara were waiting. Clara had been moved to the stall they'd prepared for her, and Jera stood impatiently just outside. "Finally, Bess. I swear, you are such a disobedient one. But I see you finally got rid of the rest of that horrid clothing, good girl."

She gestured for her to come over and enter the stall. Lori grudgingly did, feeling like she was walking the last mile. When she got there Jera hooked a short chain to her collar, pulling it around behind her to fasten her to the stall's wall. "There. Now you'll take your turn, and like it. Clara's very young, you know, they're cheapest when they're fresh from the mother like that."

The calf nosed around Lori's udder and she tensed at the lips mouthing at her teats. ''Just... just pretend...'' She thought desperately, trying to come up with some less humiliating scenario to console herself with.

Clara latched on and began to suckle, milk draining from Lori's strained glands and tears trickling from her eyes. Maria stood pensively just outside the stall and tried to meet her gaze again to offer what comfort she could.

''No. I'm not a cow,'' she grimaced. Maybe Maria was right. Maybe playing along might make things easier for now. But there had to be some way out of this eventually. And until then...

Clara was insatiable but perhaps that was for the best. It took her at least fifteen minutes to empty Lori's udder. Lori kept her eyes shut for most of it, trying to ride out the experience without paying it any more attention. But when she was done she could still feel a moo lodged at the back of her throat waiting to come out, and her regular human breasts still felt just as tight as her udder had. "Lean forward a bit," Maria urged. "Clara can't reach."

Lori shook her head silently, tears streaming down her cheeks. The chain wasn't nearly long enough and she couldn't take any more of this. But then Maria's soft touch on her shoulder pulled her back from the brink of despair. Maria had clearly seen Lori's problem and gave her a nervous smile. "Mistress is out of the barn right now," she spoke quietly. "Don't know when she'll be back to fix this chain. Let me help." She leaned tentatively closer.

Lori guessed what she meant to do and held still in quiet acceptance, though she found her heart racing and she had no idea what she'd think of it once this overriding need was passed. Maria took one of Lori's engorged nipples into her own mouth and started massaging its length with her tongue, sucking gently to get her milk flowing.

A small sigh escaped Lori's throat. This was quite different from Clara's mindless urgency, a more tender ministration that Lori had to admit actually felt quite good. Maria swallowed each mouthful she drew out, careful not to spill a drop. A corner of Lori's mind wondered why this wasn't considered forbidden 'elf food' like the bread or vegetables had been, but it was a very small corner; the rest of her mind was too busy feeling various flavors of pleasure and relief.

Eventually Maria switched breasts, and then some time later finished the second one too. Lori sighed again as Maria pulled away, her nipple slipping from the warmth of her mouth. "Thank you," she murmured. Maria smiled and just kissed Lori in response. Lori kissed back. The sweet taste on Maria's lips was from her own milk, she realized, but she found herself remarkably undisturbed by that.

A plaintive high-pitched moo from Clara interrupted their kiss by actually managing to trigger a small laugh. "Maybe she's feeling cheated?" Maria mused.

Lori shook her head. "Jera's fault, this short chain-" Maria cut her off by resuming their kiss.

Still chained up and with her hands bound behind her back Lori was unable to resist. Maybe she'd never learn to accept all aspects of her situation. But right now Lori found that she didn't mind this particular one.

{{Separator|d|End}}

{{author's note|This story was written partly as a birthday gift for a friend of mine, and partly to prove that guys can so write lesbian erotica (rather than just porn). It was inspired by a pair of drawings by an artist named Baltymora, whom I can't seem to find on the Internet now.}}

[[Category:Martin Divo]]
[[Category:Bovine]]
[[Category:Story]]

Seas of the Moon

2009-06-07T02:18:46Z

Martin Divo: Finished this one just a few hours ago, hot off the presses. :)

Livremor Estate

2009-06-07T02:13:42Z

Martin Divo: Posting a story I wrote some time back.

{{XXX}}

{{title
|name= Livremor Estate
|author=Martin Divo
|user=Martin Divo}}

{{separator|d|Part 1}}

The lecture droned ever on and on. Lori took notes idly, mixing in plenty of doodles and keeping an eye on the clock. Botany wasn't one of her better subjects but it was more due to lack of interest rather than the difficulty of the material.

Maria sat next to her and had her attention much more intently focused. Every once in a while a lock of her shoulder-length brown hair would slip down to hang over her notepad and she'd brush it back without breaking her writing. Lori sighed quietly. She had known Maria from other courses they took together and hoped that sharing this lecture with her would alleviate the boredom, but although the company was nice enough Maria was not much for interacting during class. Lori glanced at the clock again. Just fifteen minutes left to go on this one, then they'd have some free time.

She considered trying to get Maria to come with her to the university gym. Maria didn't really need it - the young woman was frustratingly fit and attractive for someone who didn't exercise regularly - but Lori enjoyed a good workout and had always felt Maria would too. Maria, for her part, had always declined. She considered ''that'' to be boring.

"-and so the apical cells of the peristem respond to the light, like so, causing an ataxic behavior..." Dr. Cass's explanation and chalky scribbling on the blackboard trailed off unexpectedly. Maria was too busy catching up to that point in her notes to notice but Lori cocked her head and frowned. There was a growing sound of commotion outside, people running and shouting in the hallways. The tension was infectious; something bad was going on. Dr. Cass headed over toward the lecture hall door to check on the situation.

The door slammed open before he got to it and a panicked-looking man leaned in. "Elves!" He hollered. "It's a raid!"

That caught everyone's attention, even studious Maria's. Dr. Cass immediately started trying to say something to the class - perhaps some sort of directions or reassurances - but the reaction from the students was a split second faster. He was drowned out by the sound of a hundred people jumping out of their chairs and dropping everything as they scrambled for the door to join the throng in the hall. Lori and Maria were swept up along with them as everyone in their row of seats pushed to get out.

Definitely not the sort of excitement that Lori had been hoping for. ''Oh god, an elf raid! This is serious.''

Lori grabbed Maria's hand, trying not to get separated in the jostling press of people as she forged her way through. She wasn't sure where they were going but it occurred to her that being part of the fleeing mob was probably the worst place to be. "Come on, Maria! We have to hide!" A glance back at Maria's wide-eyed expression suggested she might not have heard or understood her, so Lori kept her grip firm and pushed onward.

Elves. Just when it had seemed like science had finally triumphed and the world had become a rational, comprehensible place, ''they'' started showing up. The first well-documented raid had been almost five years ago now, a small group that had hit a mall in Kansas, but there had been vague reports from years earlier in other parts of the world that in hindsight must have been earlier scouting parties. They wore ornately-embroidered costumes reminiscent of some sort of pseudo-Victorian age and wielded stun-bows and staves as weapons.

That was all the elves needed. Despite the best efforts the nations of humanity had been able to muster, the elves were unstoppable. They had magical abilities beyond current understanding. They appeared anywhere they liked in a flash of light, bullets and other projectiles were somehow harmlessly deflected, and their own weapons' effects passed through any armor that had been tried against them. Even when all that was overcome - Lori remembered hearing about someone who'd successfully fought off an elf by using a baseball bat and a ton of chutzpah - they could retreat at will back to wherever they came from. Taking along the spoils of their raid... ''Definitely have to hide,'' Lori thought. The idea of fighting was secretly an appealing one, but fortunately realism and fear had a more solid grip on her. There was no point in fighting if they could simply avoid it.

She and Maria broke out of the main crush of students and into a stairwell that nobody else seemed to be using at the moment. They headed up the stairs. They were in the biology building, well known around campus for its confusing floor plan, and Lori had a notion of finding a deserted office to duck into. The elves would hopefully be drawn to the big, vulnerable mass of students pouring into the quad and not bother rooting around inside for stragglers. Lori bit her lip, realizing how cold-blooded the thought was. But it wasn't something she could do anything about.

"Wh-where are we going?" Maria panted, a bit winded from the climb.

Lori shook her head, realizing that they were just running aimlessly now, and grabbed the nearest doorknob at random. "Here."

It was a lab of some sort, with rows of benches and shelves cluttered with all manner of beakers and binders. Perfect. The two slipped in and slammed the door behind them.

A young man, apparently the sole occupant of the room, looked up from his desk in surprise. "Uh, hello?" Obviously he had no idea what was going on out there.

"Elf raid," Lori told him brusquely as the two of them barged through to the far end of the room. There was a window there and she wanted to see if she could catch a glimpse of what was going on outside.

"Oh. Oh!" The man leapt to his feet. "Here? Now?" Lori didn't deign to respond but Maria nodded and her obviously frightened expression convinced him they weren't lying. "Holy shit!"

"Shh!" Lori let go of Maria's hand and peered through the venetian blinds. She winced. It looked much as she'd thought it would out there; dozens of people were lying on the grass, struck down as they'd fled by bolts from elven stun-bows. A cloaked figure was walking gracefully among them, kneeling down by each in turn and doing something in the vicinity of their heads. Lori had never seen an elf before, thank God, and couldn't help but be fascinated. There was something so elegant and compelling about the way the elf moved, and the effect was even somehow enhanced by how dangerous they were...

In her distraction Lori didn't notice the man heading for the door, but Maria did. "Hey, wait," she called, catching up and grabbing his arm as he flung it open.

Lori turned just in time to see the flare of a stun-bolt envelop them both. They collapsed without a sound and Lori clapped a hand to her mouth, stifling a yelp. ''Oh god no!'' Approaching footsteps echoed in the hall outside, and then a melodious voice with a strange accent; "Finally! Accursed maze of a building!"

Lori ducked down behind one of the benches. She kept her hand over her mouth, breathing hard and in a near panic but with the presence of mind to stay absolutely silent. She heard the elf pause at the door, presumably checking the room for other occupants. After a moment, she heard a shuffle of cloth and a pair of metallic snaps.

Then she heard the elf resume walking. Lori took a moment to work up the nerve and peered around the corner. Maria and the young man were lying in a heap just outside the door, the elf having dragged them just far enough to disentangle them. Heart pounding with fear but moving as quietly as she could, Lori got up and crept toward them.

They were both completely motionless but their eyes were open and they seemed to be breathing; they were only paralyzed. Lori met Maria's pleading gaze and winced. The elf had fastened what looked like sturdy leather collars around their necks before moving on. Lori knew what those were for. They were retrieval collars, they drew the elves' victims along with them when they finished a raid. Nobody knew how they actually worked, of course, but if she could just get it off of her... Lori didn't know how much time she had so she figured she had to hurry. The fastener was an unfamiliar design, some sort of rectangular buckle with no loose ends protruding or other obvious ways to undo it. She'd have to try cutting it off, assuming the lab had a knife or scalpel handy. She stepped out and hefted Maria up over her shoulder to carry her inside.

A stunbolt hit Lori in the small of her back, not doing any physical damage but sending an electric jolt shooting through her entire body. She let out a gasp and her knees folded, the two of them sinking back down to the floor.

She felt tingly and her muscles were completely unresponsive, but she was still fully aware of the world around her and still fully capable of feeling fear. The elf approached again, obviously not having gone as far away as Lori had thought, and knelt down beside her. She'd never thought she'd see one ''this'' close. He looked almost human.

He had a wry smirk on his lips. "Trying to steal my catch, eh? Not after such a lousy hunt, you're not." He took a short leather strap from a pouch on his belt and slipped the end around Lori's neck, pulling it snug and snapping the fastener shut with an expert hand. The loose end dropped cleanly off and he tucked it back in the pouch.

Then the elf got back up and moved on, leaving Lori alone with the others. Her head was resting on Maria's abdomen, rising and falling slightly with her breathing in what would normally be a rather comfortable and relaxing way. Far from relaxed, though, she screamed and struggled with all her might inside her mind, trying to force herself to move through sheer will. The band around her neck was a heavy presence, a ticking time bomb that could go off at any moment. She ''had'' to get it off. But the only outward signs of her effort was an occasional slight tremble and a quiet whimper.

A clock wasn't within her field of vision so she had no idea how long she actually lay there. It seemed like ages. Sweat beaded on her brow as she kept trying to move or even just call for help. ''Where is everyone? Why isn't anyone helping us?'' Anyone left was probably in hiding now just like she'd planned for herself, she realized with bitter irony. Even big raids like this seldom lasted more than an hour in densely populated areas. It could have been perhaps half an hour along already by the time she'd been shot. Any minute now it would be over..

The tingling from the collar around her neck started to grow and she let out a final desperate whimper, knowing what was about to happen. This was it; nobody had ever come back from the fairy realm, or wherever the hell the elves took people. The collar's magic flooded through her body and there was a sudden overwhelming light, accompanied by a sensation of falling helplessly through space. Lori passed out.

{{Separator|d|Part 2}}

She woke up again with a start. She was lying in a dimly-lit place with a rough wooden floor and bare beams visible in the shadowy ceiling. She could hear the quiet murmur of people talking or sobbing, and the occasional louder curse or wail of despair. She realized that her paralysis had worn off and she sat up quickly, a surge of adrenaline shooting through her.

The room was large, perhaps a hundred feet long or more, and was divided up into cells by thick iron bars. The lighting came from lanterns hung along the far wall. The cells were filled with people, all apparently people from the raid she'd fallen victim to, and she looked around in alarm.

"Lori! Lori, it's okay." Maria crouched down next to her. She was in the same cell as her, they were still together.

Lori breathed a sigh of relief at the familiar face. "Thank god. Are you, ow, are you okay?" Maria helped Lori to her feet, her muscles having become sore from lying on the hard floor for an unknown length of time. Maria nodded.

"I'm okay too, thanks," grumbled a man sitting in the corner. Lori glanced down and almost laughed; it was the guy they'd encountered in the lab. They'd all wound up in the same cell together. Taking time to absorb more detail, Lori looked around again and tried to take stock of their situation.

The three of them were alone in their cell, probably the lowest occupancy of any of the cells she could see. Some of the cells had dozens packed into them with standing room only, those must have been quite a tangle if everyone had started out unconscious like she had. Their pockets had been emptied but they were all still wearing the same clothes; Maria in cutoff jeans that showed way too much leg for this time of year, Lori a more practical set of full-length pants and a jacket, the man in his slacks and shirt. Nothing of obvious use for getting out of here. And they were all still wearing the retrieval collars that had yanked them out of their world.

Lori's hands flew to her neck and she grabbed hers, probing the strangely shaped buckle that held it and trying to loosen it any way she could. Maria shook her head and tried to pull Lori's hands away. "No, don't! We tried-"

"Ah!" Lori cringed, a terrible feeling shooting through her. It wasn't pain, exactly, but it was very unpleasant and made her muscles spasm. As soon as she let go of the collar, though, the feeling just as abruptly eased and she took a shaky breath. "Okay. Something not to do."

Maria nodded. "Seems like everyone tries that when they wake up. If you try too hard it gets really bad." She glanced over at the man sitting in the corner of their cell. He'd apparently been one of those to demonstrate this and Lori felt a pang of disappointment that she hadn't been awake to see it. She had developed an instant dislike for the man after he'd blundered out into the hall like that.

Realizing he was the center of attention, the man sighed and climbed to his feet to get level with them. "Hi," he greeted with little enthusiasm. "My name's Bryce Samson."

Lori gave a little snort but figured they were in this together now so a little civility might be in order. "Lori Yates. Maria Reese."

Bryce nodded. "Good to know the names of the girls who got me into this."

Lori's expression hardened. "''We'' got you into this? If you hadn't run out there and grabbed that elf's attention-"

A subtle change in the tone of the room's background noise interrupted their dispute over blame, the increased undercurrent of fear grabbing their attention. A door at the far end of the room opened and several people - elves - entered. They wore elaborate uniforms similar to those the hunters had worn and carried short batons that resembled the longer stun staves the hunters used. Presumably they were guards.

More elves followed, a mixture of both male and female, these wearing much more elaborate outfits. They looked like nobility, or at least like they were in the upper class of whatever social order there was around here. The assembly walked slowly down the length of the room, individual elves pausing and examining the captives as they came.

"Hey, what's going on here? What are you doing with us?" One of the men farther up the row of cells demanded. "Yeah, come on. Let us out!" Someone else chimed in.

One of the guards stepped toward them and held out his stun baton. Everyone in that cell immediately grunted in distress and staggered, grabbing their collars. The sensation evidently passed quickly but the one who'd spoken up remained very quiet after that. The glare from his cell mates probably helped that decision.

One of the fancily-dressed elves stopped three cells down from theirs, studied the occupants an unusually long time, then leaned over to quietly confer with one of the guards. The guard nodded and stepped up to the bars. The people inside nervously stepped back, but all the guard did was fasten a tag to a hook on the front. "Lot sixteen to Lord Ellewyn Devoine, three hundred florins," He announced. There was a quiet murmur among several of the elves and the one who'd indicated his choice headed for the door to leave.

"Oh my god," Maria breathed to Lori. "They're ''selling'' us."

"Shh!" Bryce shushed Maria. He had apparently taken the punishment meted out to the talkative fellow's cellmates to heart and didn't want to draw any attention. Lori didn't like being told to be quiet but she didn't actually have anything to say so she had to agree, giving Maria's arm a silent squeeze.

Slaving had, of course, been one of the main theories about the elves' motives. They rarely stole any physical objects - mostly books, grabbed opportunistically in the course of their people-hunts - and they seemed to take care not to harm their captives. But Lori had never really thought about the implications of being on the receiving end of that. It was terrifying now that she did. She would be at these elves' mercy. What did they have in mind for them?

To her relief, though, there didn't seem to be a lot of interest in her and her companions. The cells to either side of theirs were quickly claimed but theirs kept getting passed over. Lori avoided meeting the gazes of their neighbors. They had the feel of condemned prisoners about them now and she had no way to help them, she could only stand huddled with Maria at the back and hope to avoid sharing their fate. The question of what would happen to them if they ''didn't'' get sold was a worrying one too, for all she knew it meant some form of hideous disposal, but that was something she could worry about later when they got to it.

An elf-woman stopped in front of their cells and Lori flinched when she realized how intently she was sizing the trio up. Her clothing wasn't as richly embroidered or elaborate as most of the others but she had the same regal bearing that suggested she was used to getting her way. She cocked her head, examining each of them in turn. When her gaze focused on Lori she tried to stare back confidently, but something in the elf's eyes made it very hard for Lori to keep her resolve.

The elf-woman beckoned to one of the guards and leaned close when he arrived. "These ones," she murmured. "Fifty florins."

"Lot nineteen to Lady Jera Livremor, fifty florins," the guard announced, and hung a tag on the bars.

"Holy crap," Bryce wheezed, then clamped a hand over his mouth and cringed slightly. Lori shot him a sharp glance and then tried to match Jera's gaze again. ''Not afraid of you,'' she though, even though the heartbeat thudding loudly in her ears may have indicated otherwise.

A slight grin quirked the corners of Jera's mouth and then she moved on, leaving the room with the last of the stragglers. Lori let out a long and shaky breath. They'd been bought by an elf. ''God. Not how I expected to wind up finding a job.'' She almost laughed at the thought but she was too nervous and angry for that.

There were still plenty of unknowns left to worry about. Whatever was going on here, this was just the beginning.

{{Separator|d|Part 3}}

The elves were as efficient as they were elegant. As soon as the last buyers had left the room a fresh set of guards came pouring in. Each bore a length of fine silvery chain and made a beeline for a cell bearing a tag on its hook. One came for them. "Take this," he instructed, offering them the chain through the bars. They all hesitated, of course, but Bryce set his jaw and moved first to accept it. The chain was about eight feet long in total and had four hinged metal loops spaced evenly down its length. "Each of you attach one," he told them, gesturing illustratively toward his neck. "Leave the fastener at one end free."

This was the first time any of the captives had actually been ordered to do anything and all up and down the row of cells there was a swell of confusion and consternation. Some people were refusing, and the guards were being quick to deploy their magical punishments to force compliance from them or their cell mates. Bryce swallowed nervously and hooked one of the end loops through a ring mounted in his collar, fastening it with a snap. He offered the chain to Lori and Maria. "Who's next in line?" He asked gamely.

Lori seriously considered punching him since there was nobody else she could easily reach who deserved it. But while she weighed just how badly the guard would react to that, Maria stepped forward. "I'll do it," she murmured, raising her chin to proffer her collar.

Bryce fastened Maria to the chain. "Sorry," he apologized.

Lori snorted and grabbed the rest of the chain. ''I'll be damned if I let that guy chain me up.'' She connected herself after Maria, grimacing as she did so, then looked back to the guard for instruction. He opened the cell door and reached out to take the loose end of the chain, holding his stun baton at the ready in his other hand. Lori grudgingly handed it over. He took the tag off the hook by the door and fastened it to the end, keeping their group's ownership clearly marked.

Other groups of people strung together on chains were being led out of the room by now and they joined them. Lori kept looking for openings to fight back, with just three on their chain she figured they had at least a minor advantage, but the elves were professionals; at the slightest disturbance whole chains of people were shocked into submission and their chain mates strove to keep the troublemakers in line afterward. Lori didn't want to take Maria down with her in some futile gesture of defiance so she figured she'd only take a chance if there was a really obvious opening.

There wasn't one. The three of them followed the guard's lead, passing through a number of corridors and rooms with heavy wooden doors, until they reached the outside of the building. They discovered they were in the heart of an elven city.

The architecture was strongly Victorian in flavor, though with the increased elegance and artistry Lori had come to expect from elves. The time seemed to be mid-afternoon and the cobblestone street was bustling, conventional horse drawn carriages mixed with rickshaws drawn by strange bipedal horse-creatures. There were even occasional elven pedestrians. All along the front of the building large carts and carriages of various sorts were parked, obstructing some of Lori's view. Still, she couldn't help but be amazed. ''This'' was the civilization that had been terrorizing Earth for years now? Magic aside, it was all so primitive!

The guard took them a short distance down the street. The sight of people being led around on chains was evidently not an unusual one in this neighborhood, nobody gave them a second glance and Lori suspected they wouldn't help them if they made a break for it. They stopped at a small one-horse coach at the end of the row and he rapped on the door. "Your purchase, M'lady." The coach door opened to reveal Lady Jera Livremor, who nodded wordlessly to the guard and held out her hand to take the chain from him.

He hesitated. "Are you sure, m'Lady? They're uncharmed, would you perhaps prefer an escort..."

"I can control my property," she snapped imperiously, brandishing a short wand that was presumably a variant on the guard's baton.

The guard shrugged and handed the chain over to her. "As m'Lady wishes."

Lori found herself standing just two feet of chain away from Jera. The two regarded each other for a moment and then Jera gave the chain a sharp tug. "In," she commanded. "I have no time or patience to break you here in this street."

"Okay, okay, we're coming, uh, m'Lady..." Bryce gave a gentle nudge to Maria, who nudged Lori in turn and got them all moving.

Jera gave Bryce a thin smile as they climbed into the back seat of the coach. "A decent attempt. But as your first lesson in civility, I warn you never to use that title again. Lady is a title for elven lips, you will refer to me as either Mistress Livremor or simply Mistress."

Bryce nodded. "Mistress. Of course. Sorry."

It was probably a good thing Lori had wound up on the other end of the chain from Bryce with Maria in between or she would have been even more tempted to smack him. She really didn't like the idea of jumping through these demeaning hoops.

Once they were in the back seat and the door was secured, Jera turned to a sliding panel at the front of the coach and gave an order; "Home, horse." The horse whickered and then at the first break in the traffic they pulled out into the street.

Jera turned back to the three of them. "Now, I'm sure you have many questions. The hunting guilds do as little as possible to inform the humans they retrieve from Earth since every slave-dealer has his own methods and preferences for how to prepare their stock." The corner of her mouth tugged in another slight smile. "I am one who finds it preferable to do it all myself. Much less costly purchasing you lot straight from the hunter's combine, too. Unsuccessful hunters make for good bargains."

That last comment seemed oddly out of place under the circumstances and Lori actually stifled a grin of her own. ''Lady Livremor is a cheapskate.'' "Um, a question," Lori asked once a suitable pause had developed. "What do you plan to do with-"

Jera cut Lori off with an upraised wand, her smile gone again. "Second lesson," she said. "Speak only when spoken to and ask no questions unless they are necessary for properly obeying the orders you are given. And do not use 'you' as a form of address to your superiors, it is overly familiar."

Lori opened and closed her mouth a few times, trying to figure out how to respond. Perhaps she could snatch the wand away... Maria saw the wheels turning in Lori's mind and put her hand on Lori's arm, stopping her from doing or saying anything they might all regret. "Of course, mistress," Lori hissed at last. "My apologies."

Jera raised an eyebrow at Lori's tone and fingered her wand, causing all three of them to tense in anticipating of punishment. But she just gave a nod. "Suitable for now. Since at this point I am sure it will be easier to simply satisfy your curiosity than teach you to control yourselves, however, I will tell you some things about why you are here. In the largest sense, do you know why we have chosen your people to enslave?" They all gave slight shakes of their heads, too nervous about saying something wrong to speak up. "It is very simple. We the elves, and this entire world that we live in, are suffused with magic. You, the humans, are not. Your world is a lower, lesser plane than ours that is completely bereft of any magic we do not bring there ourselves. In this world magic can only be enhanced, never weakened or dispelled, so we find your kind ideally controllable and adaptable in serving to our mundane needs."

It was demeaning and racist, of course, but for all Lori knew it was perfectly true. ''Still doesn't give you the right-''

"As for why you are here in the more immediate sense," Jera continued, cutting off Lori's thought before she could turn it into an argument. "I am as you have no doubt surmised a Lady of some status and means. I have come into the possession of a new country estate, one whom the previous tenants have left in some degree of disrepair. You three will be servicing and maintaining this estate." The half-smile returned to the corners of her mouth and Lori wondered if she was even capable of a broader expression than that.

They continued their rather one-sided conversation as the coach clopped along, leaving the cobbled city streets and heading out onto the dirt roads of the countryside. ''They don't even have paved roads...'' Lori grumbled to herself. She kept listening with half an ear as Jera rambled on about the wonders of elvenkind and how lowly humans were compared to them. There were some useful tidbits of information in there, no doubt, but for now she was having some difficulty paying attention; she kept thinking of how she'd actually rather be back in botany. Maria stayed quiet too, presumably lost in her own thoughts. Bryce was the only one who played along particularly well, prompting 'Mistress Livremor' to continue explaining as best he could. She was obviously taking a liking to his transparent kowtowing and that only worsened Lori's funk.

Finally, after what must have been at least an hour, the coach turned down a particularly rickety trail - it didn't deserve the name 'road' - that led through a lush patch of woods up to a fair-sized wood framed manor house. It was two stories tall, not counting the high attic and any basement that might be underneath, with ornately carved details everywhere and exotically arched architecture just like everything elvish they'd seen so far. But it was also the first visibly run-down building they'd encountered. The paint needed work, the lawn was overgrown, and Lori half expected to see a carriage up on cinder blocks out front.

"Livremor Manor," Jera announced as the coach pulled up to a stop before the front porch. They climbed out of the coach and as soon as they were out the horse took off on its own, circling around to take the coach back the way they'd come. "A fine country retreat for an artist such as myself. Once it is staffed, of course." She clapped her hands, startling the trio, and a moment later a young male elf came out of the front door. He looked about eighteen, though of course it was impossible to tell what that equated to in human years. He was wearing finery of simpler design than Jera's though it too was heavily embroidered.

"M'Lady," he bowed curtly.

She gave him a perfunctory nod back. "This is Eosin Sharelos, temporarily in my employ as master of this house," she introduced him.

"Pleased to meet you, Master Sharelos," Bryce bowed deeply. Maria gave a quick, awkward curtsy and a moment later Lori did likewise. Curtsying was definitely ''not'' her style.

Jera gave a satisfied sigh. "Well, then. I have been pondering your roles while we rode and it already seems clear to me what you're best suited for. You, there -" she pointed at Bryce - "will take over much of the household work that Sharelos has been unfairly burdened with. You will be cooking and cleaning and ultimately serving my guests." She reached over and disconnected Bryce's collar from the chain. "Go with him now. He will get you into uniform and show you some of what is expected."

Bryce blinked, as surprised by the sudden decision as the rest of them. After only a moment's hesitation, though, he gave another quick bow. "Um, okay, Mistress Livremor." Her lips quirked at the mixture of formal and informal in his speech and she watched him hurry awkwardly up the stairs to be taken inside by Eosin.

Lori was confused. That was a pretty comprehensive job description, what was left for her and Maria? "M'lady- um, I mean, Mistress Livremor," she stammered. "What-" Maria cut her off with a vigorous squeeze to the arm, shaking her head silently.

Jera ignored Lori's outburst completely. "You're probably wondering why that one got the most prestigious position. Skill is irrelevant, you will all learn your jobs soon enough. But attitude is sometimes harder to adjust. You-" she pointed at Maria "-show no enthusiasm for service like that one does. And you-" Lori's turn this time "-well, it's obvious how poorly you would fare. Fortunately there are other roles on this estate that will minimize your elven interaction and I only really need one servant in the house anyway. Come." She turned and started walking off around the side of the manor house, and when the two girls didn't immediately follow she turned and repeated more sharply; "Come!"

The two obeyed, trailing the chain that still bound them together.

{{Separator|d|Part 4}}

'Livremor Manor' was a farmhouse.

As they rounded the structure and saw the grounds spread out before them Lori's heart sank slightly. It was even more unkempt back here. A small stable and coach house was tucked away to one side, and a number of other storage sheds as well, but what dominated the view was a huge and somewhat ramshackle barn. An elvish barn, mind you, with carvings and decorations galore, but still a barn.

"As you can see my estate has a hobby-farm on its grounds," Jera explained airily. "In fact, the former owner worked it as a farm exclusively. Uncouth yokel. Maintaining the estate's grounds will be your role. For the rest of today you will work on cleaning this barn, a simple task that should require no training. I will have more time to spend on preparing you tomorrow."

There was a distinct odor in the air that suggested the place had seen use by cattle recently and when they opened the barn doors the scent rolled out over them in a wave that left them momentarily breathless. The place was a tremendous mess. Neither Lori nor Maria had ever had experience on a farm before, they'd barely even visited them, but they knew it was very labor-intensive. "Um, Mistress Livremor..." Maria began haltingly, pausing to see whether she'd spoken out of turn. Jera gave her a slight nod and Maria continued. "I'm not really in the best of shape, and there's just the two of us... I'm not sure we can handle all of this by ourselves."

Jera's smile widened more than Lori had thought possible. "You humans are adaptable, as I have said. Elven magic will help you serve me. Come here." She unhooked the chain from their collars, rolling it up and tucking it away in a pocket, then took out a small velvet-lined case. There were two identical tokens inside, each a small silvery metal square that bore a symbol resembling an upturned crescent moon with a trapezoid suspended underneath, narrow end down. She took one out and gestured to Maria, who hesitantly raised her chin again to give her access to her collar.

Jera placed the token over the fastener. There was a recess built into it that seemed specifically intended as a receptacle for the token and it clicked in perfectly. Jera held it in place with her finger for a moment and Maria developed a concerned expression, then there was a sudden spark of light and Maria gasped. The token had welded seamlessly into the fastener and was glowing faintly.

Lori moved to grab Maria in case she needed support, but Jera stopped her with a gesture and drew a second token. "You too," she ordered.

Lori set her jaw defiantly. "What did you do to her?"

Jera sighed in frustration. "I am weary of your insolence." She put away the velvet case and drew her wand, pointing it at Lori. Lori started an attempt to dodge but the terrible feeling overcame her instantly and nearly dropped her to the ground in a trembling heap. Jera kept the punishment up for a moment and then once Lori seemed to have ceased her struggle she released her again.

Now it was Maria's turn to offer support, helping Lori straighten back up. Jera held out the token again, waiting to see whether Lori would be more compliant this time. Lori still hesitated. She was getting pretty weary of Jera herself, and inflicting pain did nothing to convince her of the wisdom of complying. But Maria looked at her pleadingly, and Jera seemed ready to punish her with that terrible feeling again... Lori grudgingly raised her chin.

Jera inserted the token into Lori's collar, pressing gently but firmly against her throat. Lori felt a growing tingle, much like the one that had preceded the transition to this world when she'd first been captured, and then with a flash of light the same sort of jolt shot through her body, making her stagger. Jera took her hand away and Lori gingerly touched the fastener to explore how the token was affixed to it. ''Just great. It'll be even harder to get this bloody collar off now.''

Jera nodded. "Good. The enchantment is primed, it will develop as you work." She didn't explain that somewhat unclear statement any further, instead directing them to a corner where some shovels and other tools were haphazardly piled. She gave them vague directions on where to deposit what, showed them a rain barrel for when they got thirsty, and then retired from the stinking barn back to the house. Lori and Maria were left alone with each other and their monumental task.

It was the first time they'd been left alone since shortly after Lori woke up and they both relaxed in relief. "If only there were a river we could redirect through here..." Lori sighed. Maria grinned at the Augean stable reference. "Good god. I can't believe it. We've been kidnapped by elves, dragged across the planes of existence, and all so we can shovel old cow manure?"

Maria looked around. "Well, it does need it, obviously."

Lori snorted. "Obviously. It's, what, six o'clock? Seven? Local time, anyway. I should be home by now. Instead I'm-" she broke off, noticing Maria's trembling lip. "Oh, I'm sorry." No further words needed to be exchanged on that subject, it was obvious to both of them that they weren't going home again any time soon. They hugged instead, giving each of them a familiar touch to cling to for a little while.

"Thanks," Maria said when they separated at last. "I needed that. I'm glad you're with me."

Lori chuckled. "I guess if one of us has to be here, it's better to have both. I wonder what Bryce is up to in there, something cushy no doubt... Oh, never mind him."

"So what do we do now?" Maria's question was plaintive.

Lori glanced around, double-checking for elves. "Let's look around. Maybe there's something we can do. Jera doesn't strike me as the most together sort of elf."

"I don't know..."

But Lori was already heading back to the barn door, left ajar by Jera when she'd departed. She peered outside and didn't see any sign of observation; a quick dash around the corner of the barn would take them out of view of the house altogether. When Lori leaned out to get a better view, however, she let out a gasp and jerked her head back in.

"What?" Maria yelped, worried something horrible had happened to Lori.

Something had, sort of. She rubbed her neck ruefully. "Got zapped. Probably something automatic, like one of those invisible dog fences. I think we're supposed to stay in here."

Maria nodded. "Yeah... so what do we do in here?"

Lori sighed. Jera had evidently covered the obvious approaches and Lori didn't relish the idea of poking her head out of every opening in the barn to see if she'd overlooked anything. She also didn't see any tools that looked like they'd be capable of cutting through their slave collars, at least not quickly enough to prevent their magical safeguards from taking a terrible toll. So if escape would have to wait... She shucked her jacket and picked up one of the shovels. "I guess let's do this thing."

They got to work. After breaking through the layers of matted manure and old straw they discovered that there was actually a flagstone floor buried under it all. The fact that it hadn't been visible gave them a disheartening impression of the scope of their unpleasant task.

At first they worked half-heartedly and chatted a lot about emotionally safe topics to break the monotony. Maria had apparently been a secret fan of a reality show called 'The Simple Life', where a couple of vacuous Hollywood girls went to live on a farm for the season, and she kept drawing amusing parallels between their situations. Lori had barely heard of the show herself but didn't mind letting Maria go on about it to distract from what they were doing.

But after a while the single-minded nature of the work slowly began to grow on them and they spoke less. The steady rhythm of motion and flex of muscle actually started to feel pleasant in its own right. ''Just like a workout in the gym,'' Lori realized. She kept slipping into the 'zone' and had to actually force herself to work less efficiently. She didn't want Jera to know exactly how much work she could really do, and she definitely didn't want to ''enjoy'' doing the work.

By the time the Sun set low enough in the sky that its reddening glow became hard to see by they'd managed to clear out a quarter of the central aisle and had removed the rotten feed from most of the troughs in the various stalls. Their muscles were solid aches, they were ravenously hungry, and they'd drunk so much water from the rain barrel that they felt quite bloated. Whatever those softly glowing tokens embedded on their collars were supposed to do it didn't seem to have helped much.

They were just about ready to give up when Jera finally returned, holding a cloth over her face to filter the dusty air inside the barn. Lori and Maria had had no such protection and Lori didn't want to think about the dust her nose was stuffed with right now; her face was puffy from some sort of allergic reaction. "Well well, girls, you've given me hope yet," she told them as she surveyed their work.

Lori was so delirious with fatigue that she actually smiled at the compliment for a moment and Maria murmured a quiet "thank you, Mistress." Part of Lori was upset at that - why should ''they'' be thanking ''her'' under these circumstances? - but another part decided it was best not to challenge her on that right now. She was in no condition for a fight.

"Well, then. I suppose I should let you stop for the night. And in recognition of your effort, I've brought you some food fresh from the garden. Sharelos harvested it but you'll be tending that yourselves eventually once this place is straightened out. I'll save a lot if I don't have to import produce. Bridgette!" She snapped her fingers. A figure they hadn't noticed following Jera stepped out meekly from behind her.

In their exhausted state it took them a moment to recognize Bryce. He was dressed in a French maid's outfit, of all things! It looked absolutely ridiculous on him and his cheeks were blazing red with embarrassment. He proffered a large wooden bucket and refused to meet Lori's gaze.

Lori stifled a snicker at Bryce's predicament, but found it hard to focus on that despite how amusing the moment was. She focused instead on the bucket Bryce held. She was hungry enough to start salivating without even knowing what was in it yet.

Jera nodded to Bryce, who set the bucket down just inside the door and then stepped demurely back out of the barn. "Eat up and sleep well, girls. You'll need your strength for tomorrow." She turned to go.

Lori blinked, confusion momentarily overcoming both good sense and the urgency of her hunger. She didn't want to eat ''here.'' "Um, can't we... Mistress, may we go inside now?"

The question was probably a breach of protocol but Jera must have been in a good mood because she merely chuckled. "Heavens, no. You can't go in the house, what were you thinking?" She turned back to them and pointed up. "You'll stay in the loft. There's straw up there for bedding. Bridgette, the door." Jera stepped back and Bryce swung the barn door shut, giving them a final apologetic glance. They were left alone again.

Lori and Maria looked at each other in dismay. They were sweaty and filthy, totally exhausted, and they wouldn't even have a bath or a bed for their troubles. But at least they ''did'' have food now... Without a word the two of them turned and hurried over to the bucket. It was filled with wilted lettuce, root vegetables that looked somewhat like yams, something like celery, and had a copious helping of weeds and grass mixed in. Sharelos had evidently done a pretty haphazard job of harvesting it.

Still, eating that was better than ''not'' eating. They controlled their appetites long enough for them to carry the bucket up the ladder-steep stairway into the loft and sit among the loosely baled hay before they started picking out the edible bits. It was a rough meal but they desperately needed it and for a long while their only conversation consisted of the crunch and chew of vegetables. When they finally finished Maria lay back in the hay with a sigh. Lori noticed with some chagrin that they'd actually completely emptied the bucket of both the good quality and the bad; they'd really been hungry.

And now she felt even ''more'' bloated. Lori joined Maria in the hay, the sunlight too dim to do much of anything else. She kicked off her shoes and and unfastened her belt. Her heels had rubbed raw and her toes felt numb, she apparently needed the next size up for doing heavy work like this. Even her bra straps were chafing and she was momentarily amused by the thought that Bryce might well be having the same problem. Where had Jera come up with the notion of dressing him as a French maid? He definitely didn't have the figure for it, if nothing else.

The bra, at least, she could loosen. Unfortunately she doubted there were any good shoe stores nearby... at least, not for slaves like her. She shivered, fingering her collar. Until this moment she hadn't really had time to think about it at any length. She'd been too scared and disoriented during the sale after she'd been captured, during the ride here she'd been too busy listening to Jera ramble on about elves and trying not to let her truculence show too overtly, and then once they got to work in the barn the simple physical exertion had kept her mind pretty much blank.

She would never see her family again, she'd started working her way towards accepting that even when she'd been lying stunned on the floor back in the biological sciences building. TV, chocolate, the Internet - more things she'd probably never experience again but that she may well be able to get over in time. There might even be substitutes in this world. But being a ''slave''? It definitely wasn't her thing. There had to be some way out of this, some other place to flee to. She'd have to keep an ear open.

But after lying there thinking about it for interminable minutes and having nothing to show for it, she decided that she was officially way too tired to worry about anything right now. There would be time for that later. The soft snoring coming from where Maria lay suggested she felt likewise. Lori closed her eyes and eventually drifted off to sleep.

{{Separator|d|Part 5}}

Lori was first to wake this time, eyes snapping open to the distant sound of a cock crowing and flinching as the recollection of the previous day returned. She gave a quiet grunt and sat up, noting that she was still in the hayloft and it had all really happened. The sun was just barely starting to rise, the barn lit only by the pale pre-dawn glow of the sky. They must have only had a few hours of sleep.

Still, she felt reasonably rested. Her muscles weren't nearly as sore as they might have been, though she still felt bloated from the bad food and drink she'd had yesterday. Her nose also still felt swollen but at least it wasn't stuffed up any more. She rubbed her eyes, trying not to grind in more dirt than she removed, and scratched her itchy skin with a yawn.

Maria was evidently not sleeping very soundly and Lori's motion woke her up too. She groaned quietly and stretched in the hay before propping herself up on one elbow and blinking blearily. Lori chuckled and reached over to pick some bits of straw out of her long brown hair. It had somehow managed to avoid getting matted with sweat and tangles, something Lori's much shorter hair had had trouble with. "Good morning," she murmured.

Maria gave Lori a smile, though with a haunted edge to her expression. "We're still here."

"Yeah." Lori fingered her collar. It was not uncomfortably tight but it was snug enough that she could always feel it against her skin. She resisted the urge to rip at it in a futile attempt to get it off, though. She could see the token fastened on Maria's still glowing faintly in the dim light; there were probably all sorts of booby traps in them that she hadn't discovered yet.

The two got up and started preparing for whatever the day might hold, refastening bras and belts and slipping their shoes back on. They were still uncomfortably tight and Lori wondered if perhaps she was having a more generalized allergic reaction to something. Or was it a side effect of the token, bulking her up to deal with the hard work? She shook her head, in no mood to be pondering anything deeply. They were hungry again.

Soon they heard the barn door open and the clicking of hard-soled shoes across the flagstones they'd cleared the day before. Both of them tensed taking each other's hand in mutual reassurance as whoever it was came climbing up the heavy wooden ladder into the loft. They both sighed in relief when Bryce's lace-crowned head poked up over the edge. He certainly didn't seem happy to see them but for once the feeling was not mutual. ''Breakfast.'' Lori and Maria moved over to help him the rest of the way up. He was having shoe trouble too, the glossy black high-heels not ideal for the terrain, and was moving quite stiffly in the tight black corseted dress.

He was carrying another bucket of wilted garden greens, obviously rejects from the pantry. The girls dug in almost as singlemindedly as they had last night, though, leaving Bryce to stand awkwardly in silence until the edge had been taken off their hunger. Finally Lori had had enough to sate her and she stepped back, leaving Maria to finish off what was left. She and Bryce regarded each other.

Bryce adjusted his frilly white apron, still blushing in embarrassment but keeping his gaze firm this time; without Jera present this now felt like more of a meeting of equals. "I know you don't like me," he began, "and I certainly don't like you. But we're stuck here together and I think we should compare notes."

Lori snorted. "I'm not so sure it's a good idea to tell you anything we're up to, 'Bridgette.'"

Bryce grimaced angrily. "Okay, look. I'm not happy about any of this, I want out as much as you do. But I've been ''playing along,'' get it? I'm ''pretending'' to be all meek and compliant so that Mis- so that ''elf bitch'' will let her guard down around me!"

The outburst yanked Maria's attention up from the food and all three of them tensed, glancing around and waiting for a long moment to see if Jera's wrath would somehow be triggered. But she wasn't omniscient, it seemed, and they finally relaxed again.

"I'm sorry," Lori apologized, and found that she actually meant it. "I guess I just like having someone to blame for all this."

Bryce nodded. "Me too."

"Blame the elf who shot us," Maria interjected. They could all agree on that, at least.

"So, I don't have much time out here," Bryce continued quickly once the tension had died down. "Mistress Livremor is expecting me back and I'm probably already tardy. Near as I can figure, these elves have been picking up fads from pop culture they steal from Earth; that may explain why they've got a mix of classic Tolkien and ''this'' sort of thing." He tugged on the hem of his frilly black skirt. "Though really, I have no idea why she made me a maid rather than one of you two. I can barely move in this getup. You're lucky."

Lori snorted again. "We worked really hard yesterday."

Bryce gave a wry grin. "I can see that. But you have no idea how complicated all the rules and etiquette are that I'm having to pick up in there. It's like navigating a minefield. And doing it while wearing this outfit... You just have to shovel crap and move heavy things."

Lori grudgingly nodded, admitting that their work was at least simpler and less demeaning. Jera had probably been right about her suitability for the role of housemaid. Though demeaning outfit aside, she was still rather envious of Bryce's obvious access to hygiene. He was even smooth-shaven. Lori absently scratched her itchy leg and cocked her head slightly, noticing that Bryce had had a glowing silver token similar to the ones they'd received yesterday installed in his own collar's fastener. Peering closer revealed that its engraved symbol was different, though; a vertical line that split halfway up into a triangular brush. A stylized feather duster, she realized with amusement. "When did you get-"

"Bridgette!" Jera's distant call interrupted her.

Bryce instantly snatched up the empty bucket and hollered "coming, Mistress!" in reply. He glanced quickly back at the two of them with an apologetic expression and lowered his voice; "Gotta go. Talk again later I hope." Then he hurried over to the ladder and climbed back down it as fast as his high heels and dress would allow.

Lori went to the nearest window and looked outside, taking in as much of the surrounding countryside as she could in the early morning light. Maria joined her. She hobbled a little, obviously having developed sore feet yesterday as well. "What're you thinking?" She asked.

Lori shook her head. "I'm thinking we've been bought by a bit of a nut. I'm not sure playing along like that is such a good idea, but I guess better him than us..."

"We've got a lot of work to do ourselves," Maria reminded her. Lori sighed. Since they were at least for the moment magically trapped in the barn - she could feel her collar tingling unpleasantly even as she leaned close to the loft window without poking her head through - there really wasn't much else they ''could'' do, short of setting up an ambush or some other such extreme measure. Going that extreme didn't seem like a good idea yet considering how little they knew about their circumstances, so work it would probably be. But she'd see what she could do to shirk it, if only on principle...

Jera came out personally about half an hour later and summoned the two down out of the loft. They reluctantly climbed down and stood before her. She spent a moment just looking at them, examining them with a clinical gaze that annoyed Lori greatly. Finally she asked, "so, how are you girls feeling? Ready to get back to your task?"

Lori and Maria glanced at each other. "Actually, I'm having some trouble with my shoes," Lori complained. "We weren't exactly dressed for this sort of work when we got captured. Mistress," she added quickly, and Maria nodded in agreement.

Jera smiled her half-smile. "Take them off," she ordered. They didn't hesitate long, their heels were already getting rubbed sore again and their socks were already filthy. Jera then indicated the open barn door. "Throw them away."

This time Lori did hesitate; she'd been hoping to be provided with a pair of boots or some equivalent first. But Jera subtly readied her wand and Lori decided it was too early in the day to feel that bad. She took Maria's shoes as well and walked gingerly over to toss both pair outside, her socks providing little protection against any sharp objects she might stumble across. She hadn't had tetanus shots recently. Fortunately they'd already cleared the area she was walking through, there didn't seem to be anything the soles of her feet couldn't handle on their own.

"Now, are you having trouble with anything else?" Jera asked when Lori returned. Lori flushed bright red in anger; it seemed the elf was ''toying'' with her. But she shook her head, not wanting to lose any other articles of clothing. "Good. Now, resume what you started yesterday. I will set Bridgette to some chores and when I am sure she can handle them unsupervised I'll return to see how you're doing."

As if shoveling all this cow manure wasn't bad enough, now they had to do it in sock feet? Lori sighed in exasperation as soon as Jera had gone out of earshot. "I'm going to get those shoes. Is there a rake or a hoe I can use...?"

Maria shook her head. "Wait, maybe it's a test. Maybe she's going to bring us work boots or something when she comes back."

Lori had to admit that it sounded like something Jera might do. The two reluctantly resumed shoveling. They took great care not to step on anything harmful, taking to walking around on tip-toes to minimize the risk. Their toes started going numb but at least neither of them stumbled onto anything that hurt them.

The rest of their problems only seemed to be getting worse, however. Their work slowed as Lori felt her bra straps cutting into her back and her belt applying ever more pressure to her unsettled, bloated stomach. On top of all that she was developing a headache and a pain in her lower spine. From the pained expression and stiff movements she could tell Maria was having the same difficulties. Finally she couldn't take it any more. She tossed down her shovel with an inarticulate yell of frustration and stripped off her shirt, fumbling with her bra's snaps and almost losing her balance as she unfastened it. She'd just go without that too.

Lori closed her eyes for a moment and sighed in relief, nipples practically tingling from the release of pressure. When she opened them again Maria was staring at her chest with a surprised expression. Lori chuckled. "Whew. Sorry for the sudden toplessness, I just couldn't take..." She trailed off, looking down herself. Her breasts had definitely grown, perhaps an entire cup size larger than she was used to. She hefted them in her hands, feeling the increased weight more easily now that they hung free. But perhaps even stranger was the growth of her nipples. They were as thick and conical now, protruding a full inch out from puffy areolas. "The hell?" She pinched one lightly and winced at its sensitivity.

Maria started stripping too and Lori saw that she had the same developments. But she didn't stop there. She also undid her belt and pulled open the fly of her shorts, letting her lower abdomen bulge out of confinement. The soft bulge was even more bizarre tucked down there, looking very out of place on her otherwise fit physique. It had four small bumps protruding from it. "Oh... oh god, I need to sit down," Maria murmured and wavered unsteadily on her toes.

Lori hurried to support her before she fell, their enlarged breasts pressing firmly up against each other as she slung Maria's arm over her shoulders. The excess flesh rubbing against each other was very distracting but Lori tried to keep focused and helped guide her over to a stool. Her own pants felt extremely tight too, she hadn't tried undoing them yet but guessed she'd find a bulge under them much like Maria had. What ''else'' was happening to them? She pulled off one of her socks and was met with the biggest surprise yet.

Her toes had fused together until there were just two left on each foot, the merged toenails growing over the ends into thick masses that resembled a cloven hoof. No wonder they'd felt numb... The source of Lori's headache turned out to be two hard bumps on her scalp that were just starting to erupt into a pair of horns. Her backache, likewise, seemed to be due to the stub of a tail forming at the base of her spine. Her ears were longer, pointier, and definitely hairier than they should be, and her swollen nose was broader than could be explained by simple allergies. Once all the changes were put together out in the open it seemed pretty clear what was happening. By some bizarre elven magic they were starting to look a bit like cows.

"Ah, girls, I see you've made good progress this morning." Lori looked up from her toes to see that Jera had entered the barn again; she'd been too distracted to notice until now.

Maria actually whimpered in fear but Lori's gaze was venomous. "What are you ''doing'' to us?" She demanded.

Jera glared back. "I should think you would be more respectful by now. Address me properly or not at all." The staring contest held for a moment, Jera's hand steady on her wand, then Lori broke it off and decided on silence. There was no way she'd call Jera 'Mistress' right now.

Jera nodded, at least temporarily satisfied, and walked in to the barn. Lori hurriedly pulled her shirt back on, the fabric stretching tight over her chest and poking out over her enormously erect nipples but giving a slight modicum of decency. Jera glanced at her with obvious distaste. "Such plain clothing you people wear, you are really better off without. No matter. Bridgette is finally accomplishing her chores with some modicum of passable skill so I finally have some time to devote to you two. I haven't had much to spare since Sharelos went to town."

Lori's ears twitched and she tried not to let the unexpected physical reaction distract her from the information that had triggered it. Jera was apparently alone on the estate right now.

"It occurs to me," Jera continued, "that aside from my description of our elven civilization during the coach ride here I have provided you with very little information about what to expect for yourselves. Heh," she chuckled and walked toward them. "I only just realized as I came out here that I did not even know your names yet."

Lori gritted her teeth. "I'm Lor-" Jera cut her off with a wave of the wand, apparently not having intended her statement as a question.

"I decided on the way over," she told them. "You-" she pointed the wand to Maria- "are Annabell, and you-" she pointed to Lori- "are Bess."

Lori blinked in surprise. It was the final indignity. As Jera continued on to her next topic Lori surged to her feet and lunged for Jera's wand. Jera dodged with effortless elven grace and in an instant Lori realized she'd underestimated Jera's reflexes. But then at the last moment Jera seemed to change her mind and moved to allow Lori to grab the wand.

Lori fell past Jera and collapsed, completely paralyzed the instant she'd touched it. Maria leapt up and stumbled to her side. "Lori!" She grabbed Lori's shoulders and rolled her onto her back, checking for injuries.

"Ah ah," Jera chided, still holding her wand nonchalantly. "Bess."

Maria looked up at the elf with a moment of incomprehension mixed with her terror, but then realized what Jera meant. "Bess," she stammered, returning her attention to Lori. "Bess, are you okay?"

Lori couldn't answer, of course; she felt like she'd been hit with another stunbolt. She was reduced to fuming silently inside her own mind and hoping Maria wouldn't do anything as stupid as she'd just tried herself.

"This sort of uncouth nonsense is unfortunate," Jera told the paralyzed woman huffily. "I was just about to provide you with some answers to your questions out of the goodness of my own heart, but I suppose this demonstration was useful as an object lesson in its own right. Magic obeys only elves." She turned to Maria. "Do not worry about her, Annabell, she will recover. Now, do ''you'' have any questions? Ask properly."

Maria paused, thinking carefully before she spoke. "Mistress, why are we turning into cows?" Her voice cracked slightly on the last word.

"It makes you more suitable for working the land. You see, before we discovered your world we would enchant our farm animals to tend to the farms themselves, and so we keep up the tradition with our human slaves." She gave Maria her half-smile. "I suppose it's mostly a fashion these days. Technically, you aren't 'turning into a cow' as you so crudely put it. If I want a cow I will just buy a cow. No, you're developing into a Taurus, a common model of agricultural slave. You'll still seem mostly human for whatever that's worth to you." She patted her pocket. "The charms carrying the enchantment were cheap but you'll still make excellent groundskeepers."

''Cheap!'' Lori managed a snort despite her paralysis. She couldn't believe it.

Jera glanced down at Lori and sighed. "You are such a troublemaker. Well, so much for hands-on training, I don't have time to wait. You'll have to muddle on by yourselves. Both of you resume your cleaning work when Bess recovers. I should like this barn to be usable by tomorrow." She turned and headed back out the door. Jera had answered only one question but that answer was a doozy. What exactly did a 'Taurus' look like? Lori dreaded finding out.

Maria stayed kneeling next to Lori for a minute, cradling her head and sniffling quietly. Lori wished she could say something reassuring. Or at least ask her to move a bit, the naked large-nippled breasts hanging over Lori's head were a bit distracting. Finally Maria seemed to pull herself together a bit. "Lori, I'm sorry," she murmured. "I don't know what to do but I won't leave you."

Lori remembered what it had been like when their positions had been reversed, with Maria paralyzed and Lori refusing to leave her side, and was surprised by the trickle of a tear of her own down her cheek. She blinked rapidly to clear her vision.

Maria noticed Lori's tear and mistook it for distress. Her confusion over what to do was overwhelmed by a desperate need to do ''something'', and without further thought she leaned down to kiss Lori on the lips.

Lori blinked, startled but for the moment unable to react. Maria's kiss was long and tender, evidently with strong feeling behind it, and Lori found herself quite moved. She twitched her fingers slightly and realized the paralysis was already starting to wear off. If Maria would just hold on for a little while longer...

But she pulled away, suddenly awkward as she realized how presumptuous her impulsive act had been. "Sorry," she murmured again. But Lori managed to give her a hint of a smile and Maria smiled back, relaxing slightly.

She remained cradling Lori's head in her lap while full control slowly returned to Lori's muscles. The moment was actually very nice and Lori knew that once it was over they'd have terrible things to contend with again. She didn't rush to get up.

{{Separator|d|Part 6}}

Eventually, of course, reality's rude intrusion forced the issue. Lori's comfort eventually began to fail as a pain in her backside grew, and she realized to her chagrin that her tail was getting long enough to have a kink. With a quiet sigh she reached up and touched Maria's arm, alerting her to her impending movement, and then with Maria's assistance rose unsteadily to her feet. She shook her head and ran her fingers through her tangled hair, avoiding the budding horns above her temples. She wanted to take these changes as slowly as possible.

"Are you alright?" Maria asked quietly.

Lori nodded absently, reaching down the back of her pants to adjust the stub of her tail into a more comfortable position. It was impossible. Her pants were just too tight with the growing bulge of her lower abdomen contained within them, and she was loathe to undo them and let it just hang out in the open like Maria had done. "Frickin' tail," she groaned uncomfortably.

"Yeah, I know," Maria commiserated. The tip of hers was already poking out of one of the legs of her shorts, it must have been approaching a foot long by now. If Lori's was the same size... she concentrated on the kinked feeling for a moment and jumped slightly when she felt it twitch.

With a little effort and prodding from the outside she was able to thread it down one of her pant legs. The soft brush of hair growing on the end tickled against her skin. "I think we'll need to cut holes for these."

Maria agreed. For the next few minutes they worked in silence on getting their clothing back in order, poking crude tail holes with the tines of a pitchfork and threading their new appendages through them. Maria put her shirt back on, but she looked somewhat uncomfortable about it and Lori figured she knew why. Without a bra on underneath the fabric of her own shirt rubbed on her nipples when she moved in certain ways, a not entirely unpleasant sensation but making it impossible to ignore how large and erect the things had become.

"Okay," Maria broke the silence after they'd got as comfortable as they could under the circumstances. "What do we do now?"

Lori shook her head. "I don't know. I... I'm feeling kind of confused." The admission slipped out before she'd fully analyzed her mental state herself. What did she want? Part of her wanted to rage, part of her wanted to cry. Those urges she understood. Part of her wanted to further explore the changes to her own body and part of her was repelled by the concept. Those were also quite understandable. Part of her wanted to explore Maria's body instead, to touch her lips again and feel the firm curve of her hips pressed-

Lori shook her head again. That part she didn't understand and she didn't want to approach it too closely right now. So what did that leave? There was one other major urge lurking in her thoughts right now, she realized.

"Maybe we should get back to cleaning up?" Maria asked, indicating it was weighing on her mind too.

Everything Lori wanted was conflicted. She definitely didn't want to comply with Jera's wishes, but at the same time the work really had started to feel good in some bizarre way. Calming, almost. And calming was something she could really go for right now. She needed to keep her mind off of all the other things competing for her attention.

The two got back to their task and as Lori had sort of hoped it soon sucked them back in to that single-minded focus again. The major part of the job - the shoveling - was finally finished after just an hour or two more, after which they did a thorough sweeping of what was left and started pulling out some of the larger debris piled in a couple of the stalls in back. Planks of wood, masses of tangled rope and rusted chain, and what looked like parts of two or three different broken carts.

And throughout it all their bodies continued to change. Lori had just enough attention to spare to keep track of that.

Their toes developed fully into cloven hooves, the shuffle of bare feet soon replaced with solid clopping on the flagstone floor. Their legs remained the same shape above the ankles but they sprouted a coat of short, dense hair from the knees down. A similar coat grew on their hips and lower back, spreading up until it just reached their ribs. Maria's new hair was brown, the same shade as her old hair, but Lori's was coming in white with large irregular black patches that were distributed all over her body. ''Like a Holstein,'' she recognized with embarrassment. Having an identifiable ''breed'' somehow made things seem even worse.

Their horns grew four inches long and their ears six, both sticking out from the sides of their heads. The pads of skin on the ends of their noses darkened and their nostrils broadened into cow-like snouts, though to their relief the rest of their faces remained essentially unchanged. Their ropy tails lengthened rapidly until the thick brush of hair at the ends almost reached the ground. They flicked reflexively, almost without conscious control, and Maria gave an occasional startled flinch when it brushed against her bare calves.

And their udders swelled, bulging out below their navels until even Lori had to bow to the inevitable and open her fly to let it out. The four teats sprouted from mere bumps to finger-length protrusions, gaining sensitivity to match their original nipples. Lori tried avoiding that part of her anatomy most of all but the way it bounced as she walked made it hard to ignore.

It was around mid-afternoon when the changes finally seemed to stabilize. Maria's breasts stopped at around C- or D-cup, large but not unmanageable, and while her udder would definitely get in the way of any pants she tried to wear it was a manageable D-cup as well... assuming that measure was actually applicable to udders. Lori's were both noticeably larger, but her breasts had started out larger to begin with so she assumed that had simply translated across.

Somewhat less significant, but still important, was the fact that they'd finally finished cleaning up the barn. The two were feeling emotionally and physically exhausted and they sat down together on their makeshift bench to recuperate, tails hanging restlessly in back and legs slightly splayed to give their udders room in front. For a while they just rested, leaning lightly against each other for support.

"Hey, your collar's stopped glowing," Maria suddenly observed. It was the first words either of them had spoken in quite a while and Lori's ears flicked in surprise at her voice's timbre; it was still feminine but it had dropped half an octave to a throatier tone.

"Yeah, yours too..." her own voice had also changed. She sighed; they even ''sounded'' a little cow-like now. "I guess the spell's run its course. So this is how a 'Taurus' looks."

Maria nodded, her expression haunted. "I... I guess it's not so bad..."

Lori snorted and her ears flicked again, this time in surprise at the increased snorting capacity of her snout. She reflexively licked the pad of leathery skin covering the end of her nose and flushed red with embarrassment. Her tongue had enlarged too, though fortunately not to as large a degree as her breasts. "I disagree," she mumbled once she'd regathered her wits.

"Sorry," Maria sighed. "I guess I was just thinking... I don't know." Tears welled and Lori realized she'd been struggling to put on a brave face. She silently kicked herself for her insensitivity and put an arm over Maria's shoulder, offering her own silent apology. Their horns poked awkwardly as Maria accepted it by snuggling in closer, resting her head against Lori.

Lori felt a pleasant tingle from Maria's closeness again, a warm sensation swelling in her gut. ''As if these new parts didn't feel strange enough already...'' She grumbled to herself in silent confusion.

They were interrupted by the sound of the house door opening and then approaching footsteps on the path outside, causing both to sit bolt upright again and turn their ears to catch any clue of their visitor's identity. The steps were slightly unsteady on the rough ground, not like Jera's graceful elven gait, so they both relaxed slightly even before the barn door pulled open.

Even though the black and white French maid's uniform was quite distinctive, both Lori and Maria did a double-take before they were sure of the identity of the person inside it. Bryce had also changed. His figure had pulled in dramatically at the waist and bulged at the chest and hips, his arms had slimmed, his legs become downright shapely in their fishnet stockings. His hair had lengthened and lightened in color and was now done up under the headpiece in - of course - a French braid. And his face was hardly recognizable, the features now clearly feminine and touched with a hint of makeup.

He, or perhaps now 'she', was carrying another bucket and blushing deeply. But when he saw Lori and Maria he did a double-take of his own, dropping the bucket in surprise and seeming to forget his own predicament for a moment. "Oh!"

Lori gave Bryce a rueful grin. "Come in, 'Bridgette.' I guess we've got stories to swap." Her stomach rumbled quietly at the thought of food but she figured she could hold off a bit under the circumstances.

Bryce's blush deepened. "Please, do not call me that," he asked as he walked over mincingly in his high heels. The pitch of his voice had raised a half octave, meeting theirs in the middle, and there was an odd cadence to his speech that Lori couldn't quite place at first. "It is bad enough that ze Mistress, uh, ''the'' Mistress, she calls me that all ze time..." He shook his head and paused for a moment, putting down the bucket again and rubbing his temples. "God, I can't keep my tongue straight. But what 'as 'appened to ''you''?"

"We're 'Tauruses' now," Maria explained morosely. "Or Tauri, maybe. We're supposed to be agricultural workers or something..."

Lori let Maria talk, too caught up for the moment in studying Bryce. He was actually developing a French ''accent.'' She noticed that his collar had changed appearance somewhat, becoming narrow and black, but the silver charm with the feather duster symbol was still in place on it and unlike their own was still glowing faintly. "Are you still changing?" She asked bluntly once Maria had finished her brief summary.

Bryce grimaced and ducked his head slightly, tugging nervously at the edges of his skirt. "Oui. Uh, yes, dammit." He sighed. "I... I am still turning into a woman, I can feel it. 'Ell, even zis clothing is changing, it becomes tighter all ze time. And worse..." He trailed off, too upset to continue.

"Worse?" Maria prompted.

Bryce shook his head. "I've just been playing along with ze Mistress, pretending to like doing ze things she asks, trying to follow all ze little silly rules... but now it is getting hard to stop." She closed her eyes and took a shaky breath, chest swelling noticeably in the cups of his bustier. "I can't ''stop'' playing along. Is it even playing along any more when I can't stop? Were... were you right about me, mon ami?"

After all that had happened to them Lori had not expected to be in a situation to give ''Bryce'' comfort, but with the way he was opening up and on the verge of breaking down she couldn't help but offer a spot on their makeshift bench. The maid sat down very carefully and with some distance between them - Lori decided not to take it personally, he had delicate petticoats to consider - and gave a few dainty sniffles. She waited for him to either recover his equilibrium or lose it completely.

"I'm sorry," he said at last. "I'm being selfish. You two are obviously in a bad way yourselves..." He sniffed one last time, rubbing the tears from his eyes and reflexively smoothing his dress and hair. "I must look a mess, am I presentable?"

The concern over his appearance was probably another part of 'playing along' that he was having trouble resisting, but Lori gave a quiet chuckle she hoped would be taken as supportive. "Quite. You didn't even smear your makeup."

"I 'ave makeup?" Bryce blinked in surprise. Lori grimaced, realizing that what she'd taken for lipstick and eye shadow were apparently just altered skin pigmentation. She supposed it was pretty minor compared to the big black splotches she'd developed on her own skin, but it would probably still come as a bit of a shock when Bryce finally encountered a mirror.

"I take it you were sent to bring us food again?" Maria asked, quickly changing the subject to something a bit closer to their own hearts.

Bryce's expression became almost comically alarmed. "Oh! Of course, ze Mistress' instructions!" Then he smiled briefly. "I suppose it's promising zat I can still have zat... that I can still have that slip my mind." Lori nodded encouragingly, though her own thoughts were turning more firmly to hunger as well and she mainly just wanted him to get on with it. "She had some other things too, but oui, ze food is pour vous. For you."

That was all the prompting they needed. They got to their hooves and crouched on either side of the bucket, digging in right there on the floor. It was even lower grade kitchen scraps this time, just stalks and leaves and peels from various vegetables, but Lori found that it didn't seem to matter. Her molars had broadened and her jaw muscles were stronger now, allowing her to grind the tough plant matter up just as well as regular food. And the taste was quite good, actually.

For a long while they ate intently and in silence, tails twitching back and forth without thought. Then, as they reached the bottom of the bucket, they discovered that hidden under the greens was a small loaf of freshly-baked bread. Lori blinked, flicking her ears and licking her nose in a moment of confusion. Then she remembered Bryce, turning to look quizzically in his direction. He was still sitting on the makeshift bench, watching them eat with a vaguely appalled expression. She couldn't believe she'd forgotten he was still there.

He jumped slightly at Lori's attention and wiped the expression from his face. "Um, a present," he mumbled bashfully. "My first attempt at baking zis morning. Ze Mistress, she say eet is no good. But she did not tell me how to dispose of eet, so I bring you some... a peace offering."

Lori was actually a little touched; Bryce must ''really'' be feeling out of sorts. "Thanks. You didn't have to do that." Though she was absolutely stuffed she was sure she could handle a bit more. Real human food would be most welcome after all that roughage.

But Maria picked up the loaf and sniffed it while Lori spoke, an expression of distaste flitting over her bovine features that she quickly managed to hide. "Lori, can we save this for later?" She suggested.

Lori nodded. "You're right, it'll make an excellent snack. Thanks again, Bryce."

Bryce smiled. Then he looked startled again, remembering something. "Oh, ze rest of ze Mistress' instructions!" He shook his head. "She cannot be here zis afternoon, she is out on business. She say zat once you 'ave finished cleaning ze barn, you may go outside."

"''May'' go out?" Lori asked with a snort.

Bryce nodded, repeating the words Jera had used if not the accent they'd been spoken in. Then, reluctantly, he climbed to his feet. "As for myself, I 'ave my own chores," he sighed. "I 'ave wasted enough time already... I hope I will be able to visit you again, and not just as Bridgette. Au revoir." He picked up the bucket and headed back toward the house again, his gait noticeably more feminine and steadier on his high heels than it had been even when he'd arrived not more than half an hour ago.

Lori shook her head after they'd watched him go. "That maid spell he's under seems even more extreme than our cow ones in some ways," she murmured. "At least in how it's affecting his behavior. These elves must have stolen some bad porn or something. I hope that thing on his collar wears out soon..."

"Lori, have some bread." Maria offered Lori the loaf, a serious tone in her deepened voice. Lori cocked her head, puzzled, but took the bread and raised it cautiously to her mouth.

It was still warm, the scent strong and as far as Lori could tell delicious. She had no idea why Jera had rejected it. But all the same, she found that she couldn't bring herself to take a bite. "Um..."

"Yeah, I got that too," Maria sighed. "It's not what we're supposed to eat."

That was a very disturbing feeling. Lori gritted her teeth - big, broad teeth intended for raw and fibrous plants, not for baked goods. "God damn it. I'll eat what I like." But she still just held the bread.

Maria smiled sympathetically. "Maybe later when we're hungry again. Bryce said we could go outside now, though, how about we try that?"

Lori nodded and set the loaf aside. They'd been trapped in the barn for almost a full day now, it would be a good change of scenery if nothing else. The two cow-girls went over to the door, approaching the threshold cautiously. Lori remembered well the terrible feeling she'd got when she'd tried passing here the day before... but this time there was only their own uneasiness and they poked their heads out without any outside influences moving to prevent them.

Lori and Maria stuck close together as they went out onto the overgrown lawn, their cloven hooves muffled by the sod. The Sun was still fairly high in the sky and it took a few minutes for their eyes to adjust after the relative shade of the barn's interior. The air was fresh and warm. The sense of freedom was almost overwhelming.

''What's the catch?'' Lori wondered suspiciously, running her fingertips through her tangled black hair and rubbing her scalp in thought. Her hand came up against the base of one of her horns and she grimaced, taking hold and giving it a frustrated jerk that did absolutely nothing to dislodge it from her skull. ''Aside from the cow thing, of course.'' She knew it couldn't be as simple as just wandering off.

One problem was that she had no idea what the lay of the land was. This was the first time she'd been anywhere in this world on her own recognizance. "Let's explore a bit," she suggested. Maria nodded, taking Lori's hand.

{{Separator|d|Part 7}}

The manor house's back yard was at the eastern corner of a large and roughly triangular open field, the rolling terrain bounded in the distance by hedgerow and forest. There was a large but weedy-looking garden patch with an ornate wooden fence around it, more decorative than a serious barrier, and several large sheds and other minor outbuildings that looked like they were dedicated to storage.

Really, what was to ''stop'' them from just wandering off? There wasn't a soul to be seen, elf or otherwise. Lori took the lead as they started off away from the barn and along the edge of the field.

Ironically enough, the field turned out to have been used most recently as a cow pasture. There were still strong traces of the scent in the air that they could identify despite the rather strong background odor they'd picked up for themselves from their work in the barn. Every once in a while one of them stepped in the remnants of an old cow pie hidden in the grass and Lori tried not to think of going bare-hoofed the same as going barefoot. It wasn't really the same.

"Ooh!" Maria's approving sigh came as they topped one of the taller rises and saw a small pond nestled in the hollow immediately beyond it. Lori trailed along as Maria picked up the pace, trying to keep up while minimizing the bouncing of breast and udder. Since hers were bigger she was at a bit of a disadvantage and released Maria's hand to let her go on ahead.

Maria's hooves squelched into the soft muddy soil at the water's edge and she paused for a moment to strip off her shirt. Lori blinked in surprise, huffing "What're you doing?" As she caught up.

Maria gave Lori a 'duh' look. "I'm hot, I'm sweaty, I've been cleaning a barn all day and I feel filthy. I'm going to wash." She tossed her shirt to Lori and then started wading into the water, moving slowly to keep her balance.

Lori was aghast. The pond was clearly just a large slough, from the old hoof prints churning up the shore the water must have had countless cattle polluting it over the years. But on the other hand... she looked down at her feet, noting how similar her own tracks in the mud were.

''I am not a cow,'' Lori reminded herself firmly. ''No matter what spells these fucking elves cast on me.'' "I don't think that water's safe," she called out to Maria.

Maria was up to her mid-thighs already. "No, it's fine," she called back, continuing to forge ahead. "The slope's gentle. Kind of slippery bottom, but-" She stepped in a slight depression, stumbling a few steps, then suddenly stiffened. "Oh God! Oh! Oh!"

"What? What?" Lori dropped Maria's shirt and immediately splashed a few yards out into the water, intent to rescue her friend from whatever terrible fate had befallen her. But she skidded to a stop when Maria turned back toward shore and she saw the look on her face. She was flushed red with embarrassment but also the verge of barely constrained laughter.

"S-sorry," she stammered. "Cold water... on my, uh, my udder."

Lori blinked. It was an absurd moment, even after all the insanity she'd been through over the past day. ''Just about twenty four hours since I was kidnapped,'' she realized. ''Less than half that in this condition. I can barely accept that it's happened yet. I don't ''want'' to accept that it's happened yet.''

Lori laced her fingers under her own udder where it protruded from the open front of her jeans, hefting it gently. "Thanks for the warning," she answered with a wry grin. Maria grinned back and then resumed wading deeper.

Lori's grin faded away, uncertain how to proceed. She was standing in water up to her knees, which meant her jeans were already soaked and wicking more moisture upward by the second. She waded back to shore and moved to a patch of reasonably dry grass. Getting her pants off to was a bit of a struggle on account of having to de-thread her tail through the back while balancing on hooves, but she managed it reasonably quickly and spread them out to dry.

Maria had reached the middle of the pond where the water was up to mid-chest, her breasts bobbing slightly as she moved. She seemed to be enjoying herself and Lori really did feel hot and filthy from all that work they'd done... The water couldn't be more contaminated than what they'd just spent all morning shoveling out of the barn, could it?

She realized there was no way she was going to be able to sort out her confused feelings right now, so she might as well just go ahead and act on them. She added her own shirt to the pile and, clad only in her panties and collar, headed down to join Maria.

The water was indeed cold, causing her already ludicrously large nipples to go 'spung' the moment her lower teats dipped in. She was more prepared than Maria had been so she just gave a little gasp and forged onward. It was nice to get the caked grime and sweat off, she had to admit, and the water wasn't so bad now that she was in it.

Maria had crouched down to wash her neck and she stood back up when Lori reached her, the water sluicing down off her breasts in a glistening display that was oddly captivating. Lori found herself flushed and feeling warmer than she should have at that temperature. She averted her gaze, ears flicking awkwardly, and started rubbing the water on her arms to get cleaned off more quickly.

"Would you like me to do your back?" Maria asked softly.

Lori's heart skipped a beat. She was so confused now she didn't trust herself to speak, her altered body sending her all manner of feelings and desires like she hadn't felt before. She wanted to deny them all but some of them were so strong... She nodded hesitantly.

Maria moved behind her and gently ran her hands up Lori's spine, the touch of the cold water sending a shiver through Lori's body and setting all six of her nipples throbbing. She worked slowly, massaging as much as cleaning, and Lori tried to allow it to be relaxing. Maria leaned closer, the warm breath on the back of Lori's neck dispelling some of the chill. It was working.

"Did you know you've got a spot shaped almost exactly like the British Isles back here?" Maria asked.

Lori blinked, having actually forgotten about the patchy Holstein coloration her skin had developed. It broke the moment. She pulled away with a small gasp, though the sloshing muddy water preventing her from getting far, and turned to face Maria.

There was a look of confusion on Maria's face almost as strong as Lori's own. "I'm sorry, did I do something wrong?"

Lori shook her head. "No, I-" she broke off, considering her response carefully. Maria's expression was mixed with both longing and concern and Lori's heart was aching at the sight. "I liked it. I like ''you''. I'm just confused. I don't like what these elves have done to us and I don't know which of my feelings are really real."

"What do you mean?"

Lori didn't think Maria was being deliberately obtuse but it surprised her all the same. "I mean, uh, this feeling between us... this attraction. I feel it, I'm sure you can tell. But I'm not sure where it's coming from."

Now it was Maria's turn to be surprised. "You weren't queer? I mean, back at university, before?"

"I... I don't think I was," Lori answered awkwardly.

Maria smiled, equally awkward. "I'm sorry, all this time I was getting those vibes, and I kind of always thought... maybe if... I didn't want to say anything. But now, stuck like this, I didn't want to be alone."

The two stood facing each other in the chest-deep water for a moment, the silence stretching as Lori's mind whirled and her heart pounded. ''I've been kidnapped by elves, dammit,'' she thought plaintively. ''After everything else that's happened why is ''this'' throwing me so badly?''

''Maybe because this is about who and what I really am,'' she answered herself.

Slave. Cow-girl. Lesbian. Which of those were real? Lori actually felt like her knees were about to give out, and Maria must have picked up on that because she moved forward to catch her before they did. Lori didn't pull away this time and they stood for a long moment in an embrace, holding each other with their breasts and udders pressing together warmly in the cold water.

"How do you feel?" Maria asked at last.

Lori looked searchingly at Maria's face, the bovine nose not making her any less attractive. ''This shouldn't be romantic,'' part of her thought giddily. But the fire in her belly said otherwise and she found herself leaning forward. Maria met her in a kiss. It was tentative at first but soon grew passionate, their tongues probing each others' lips and their hands moving more intimately over each others' bodies. Maria's fingertips slid down the side of Lori's thigh and under her panties to rub lightly over her labia, stoking the fire hotter and setting Lori throbbing with desire. "Ooh," Lori moaned deep in the back of her throat. "That's good..."

The two spent a while out there in the water exploring each other further. Lori was still a little uncertain of herself, though, and so they didn't keep at it long before Maria reluctantly eased off. They were both left hot and flustered despite the Sun starting to get a little low in the sky.

"Okay," Maria finally asked, "So what do we do about this now?"

Lori shook her head. "No fucking clue. I suppose we should get out of the water at some point..." She grimaced at a sudden realization and an even brighter flush reddened her face. "I've lost my panties in here somewhere."

Maria couldn't help but chuckle. The muddy bottom had been thoroughly churned up and if they weren't floating now there was no chance of finding them. "Come on out anyway, I promise not to look."

Her shyness was silly, Lori readily admitted to herself, but even after all that had happened to her there was a difference between walking around in her panties and walking around ''completely'' nude. Well, aside from her collar... Lori trudged determinedly to shore, trying not to think about it. She and Maria stood air-drying for a few minutes in what was left of the sunlight before they slipped back into the clothing they'd left on the shore.

They were relatively clean and felt energized. Lori looked out at the hedgerow marking the far boundary of the field, where they'd been heading before getting a little sidetracked - Lori snorted at the private understatement - and considered heading onward with Maria. Perhaps something would stop them, but perhaps not; she was in the mood for testing boundaries now.

But there was a competing urge welling up as dusk approached, one she had less of an explanation for. She swished her tail restlessly at the internal conflict. "We should be getting back to the barn now," Maria finally gave the urge voice.

This was definitely the cow part of her talking, Lori realized, no question. She could recall Jera mentioning that elves enchanted their farm animals to care for themselves, and they seemed to have inherited more than just the appearance. "I don't know if we should."

Maria smiled wryly. "What, become wild cattle? I don't think I have that in me. I..."

"We're ''people'', Maria," Lori insisted. "We're not cows. This is just some spell, we'll figure out some way to break it. We don't have to do what Mistress Livremor wants."

Maria shook her head sadly. "I was paying attention in the coach too, Lori. I still don't know much about how elf magic works, don't know if I ever will, but she said that in this world enchantments can't be broken. If that's true... Maybe you should start calling me Annabell."

After feeling so good just so short a while ago it was a hard thought to have to grapple with. "We're not stuck like this forever," Lori insisted.

"Well... I guess she could have been lying." But Lori could tell from Maria's wistful sigh that she didn't really believe that. For Lori's part she was having a hard time putting herself in that mindset even hypothetically; there ''had'' to be some way out. She couldn't imagine thinking about what to do if this was forever.

With an uncomfortable silence between them now they both decided it was time to get moving, so they started off together away from the slough. It was only after they'd walked most of the way there that Lori realized she'd turned back toward the barn without a thought. For a moment she considered turning around again right then and there, stalking off into the night regardless of the consequences, but she was starting to feel a bit tired.

''Tomorrow,'' she promised herself. ''I'll look for a way out tomorrow.''

{{Separator|d|Part 8}}

The cock's insistent crowing was loud in Lori's enlarged ears, dragging her awake without the help of an adrenaline surge this time. She sat up ponderously in her hay-pile bed, yawning and stretching with a groan.

''Still a cow-girl.'' She couldn't really think of a good reaction to that any more. What was she supposed to do, wake up every morning screaming? Instead she just scratched the hairy hide on her hip and flicked the tip of her tail.

The soft clunking of hoof on wood elsewhere in the loft indicated that Maria was already up and about. Lori climbed to her own hooves and carefully slipped on her pants and shirt, wincing slightly at the sensitivity of her breasts and udder. They felt swollen, even compared to their 'normal' large size. She hoped she hadn't slept on them wrong or picked up some infection.

Lori found Maria at the far end of the loft, hefting bales of hay and moving them from one pile to another. She seemed pretty intent on the task and Lori was impressed with the strength she was putting into it. "Hey, how are you doing? And what are you doing?"

Maria looked up from her current bale and smiled in greeting. "Oh, good morning. I, uh, just felt like getting to work right away..."

Lori shook her head. There wasn't much tidying left to be done in the barn any more, rearranging the bales didn't seem particularly urgent or purposeful. But on the other hand, it did seem to be a good way to get the blood flowing after waking up. She helped Maria shift a few.

They hadn't spoken much after they'd got back the previous night. Nobody had been in the barn, though another bucket of fodder had been left for them - Jera had evidently been quite confident of their return. They had eaten their meal, rinsed themselves and their clothes as best they could with water from the rain barrel, and then had gone to bed in the loft much as they had the night before. This time Lori had spent a lot longer lying awake, though, gazing over at her companion already asleep in the hay beside her.

In hindsight she wondered if she had seen any signs that Maria was gay. Hell, she wondered if she had seen any signs about her own orientation. She probably had, but had just misinterpreted them without giving them enough thought. But at least there was the strange comfort that this wasn't the biggest change she was having to deal with right now.

Lori dropped the last bale into place in the reorganized pile with a grunt and took a moment to survey their work. "We need aprons," she suddenly announced.

"Eh?" Maria paused, shaking her head and brushing at her horns to get a snagged tuft of hay off. "Why?"

She gestured at her bulging udder. "I'm ''ticklish'', okay?" ''And tender,'' she added silently.

Maria actually gave a deep-throated chuckle at the comment. A moment later, though, their ears twitched in unison and they were interrupted by the sound of the barn door being pushed open. Then they both sighed in relief at the click of high-heeled shoes on flagstone. Those shoes meant Bryce, which meant breakfast. The two quit what they were doing and climbed down the ladder to meet him halfway.

Meet ''her'' halfway. The charm on her collar - now a black satin choker with white lace edging - was no longer glowing, having evidently finished its magical work. Her face was unrecognizable now, features fully feminine and enhanced with 'makeup.' Her figure looked almost painful, waist held in snug by the bustier and breasts pushed up close to the size of their own. Lori noted with a twinge of irony that she actually did have a frilly white apron as part of her uniform, but decided she definitely didn't want one like that.

She wasn't carrying anything else with her this time. The two girls clopped to a puzzled halt. Bryce sighed, keeping her embarrassed gaze cast down at their hooves. "Bonjour," she lilted sweetly, "ah am sorry, ah 'ave no food pour vous zis morning."

The combination of her voice's altered tone and heavy accent made it hard to tell what her attitude really was and Lori swallowed nervously. "Um, Bryce?" She asked. "Or Bridgette...?"

The maid smiled, seemingly a vacuous expression but with a definite haunted look to her eyes. "Ah am still in 'ere," she murmured quietly. "But zis magic, zis charm..." she fingered her choker. "Eet is like she ees in my 'ead, you know? Ah try to say somezing, or ah try to do somezing, but eet is Bridgét who says and does..." She trailed off with a sigh, then shook her head. "Ah cannot believe eet has come to zis, my life. But ah must live, non?"

"Yeah, I know what you mean..." Lori nodded, relieved at least that 'Bridgette' was still only just a shell over the real Bryce. She had come to realize that their earlier antagonism had really been quite petty and she regretted it. She still didn't necessarily ''like'' Bryce, though... ''Heh. He's turned into a woman and he's still not my type.'' It was a strange reassurance in a way.

"Are you bringing orders from Mistress Livremor, then?" Maria asked.

Bryce nodded. "Oui. She say zat zis morning, you will go to ze garden and tend to ze plants yourselves. She say zat ah must prepare ze casserole, I need to 'ave fresh carrot, caulifleur..." She rattled off a short list of vegetables and the two of them nodded at each.

"Where is she right now?" Lori asked when Bryce was done.

"She ees going to teach me ze casserole she likes. Ze Mistress, she ees very hands-on. And ze magic charm, eets training only goes so far..." A rueful grin tugged at Bryce's pouting ruby-red lips. "Ah 'ave not even gained ze true Français, just a few random words and zis stupid accent."

Lori shook her head, tail lashing angrily. "We're ''fashionable'' slaves. It doesn't have to make sense or be practical."

"Oui. Ze Mistress, ah think she is trés vain. Ah do not think she ees as wealthy as she likes, and so she ees putting on ze airs..." Bryce sighed. "And ah must return to her now and play along. Ah will try to learn. Au revoir, mon vache."

Bryce parted their company, heading back to the house. They gathered up a few gardening tools from around the barn that they hoped would be useful - Lori found something resembling a small plough with a human-sized yoke and hoped it wasn't intended to be used by them at some point - and made their way out as well, heading for the garden patch.

Neither of them had much experience with this sort of thing but fortunately their task looked quite straightforward. The garden was overgrown but had apparently been well planted before it fell to neglect, the vegetables they were after were all there in abundance. They pulled a few of each, setting them aside on a sheet of burlap. The vegetables themselves were off limits just like the bread had been, Lori could tell that without even trying to eat any this time, so the girls were forced to satisfy their own hunger by browsing on some of the more succulent weeds as they went.

And without having to be zapped by her collar, either... Lori rubbed the thick leather band absently while she chewed. It hadn't zapped her since they'd finished changing, now that she thought of it. She'd just somehow ''known'' what was 'wrong', and that doing the wrong thing just felt bad. It was like the magic had moved inside her head too.

"Annabell! Bess!" Jera's distant call snapped Lori out of her uncomfortable train of thought. The two hurriedly picked up the corners of the burlap and carried their haul to the house. Lori felt a strange sense of foreboding as she and Maria got close, their hoofsteps faltering as they arrived at the back porch.

Despite Jera's summons going inside the house felt ''very'' wrong. Lori reached for the door handle experimentally. ''Dirty!'' The thought made her pull her hand back and she frowned in confusion. ''Dirty? It looks clean to me... oh.''

''She'' was dirty. And she realized that no amount of washing would change that feeling. It was just not appropriate for a farm animal to go inside an elf dwelling.

Jera opened the door and stepped outside. "Ah, there you are. I wondered what was keeping you. Bridgette!" Bryce stepped out to join her, giving an obsequious little curtsy. "Take these vegetables inside and prepare what you need, I'll be back to the kitchen shortly." Bryce curtsied again and took the burlap from Lori's hand, giving her a secretive little nod of thanks that Lori barely registered.

"You two, go put down some fresh straw in one of the stalls," Jera told them. "Make sure it's done by noon. I will be coming to inspect and instruct after lunch." Then she was gone too, leaving Lori to silently fume.

Maria put her hand on Lori's shoulder and gave her a supportive squeeze, then nudged her to come along with her back toward the barn.

"I am not a cow." Lori spoke through gritted teeth, the comment aimed at nobody in particular.

"I know." Maria's soft-spoken response seemed to Lori to be meant as just a platitude, and her anger only grew. Was Maria just ''accepting'' this? It had only been a day!

But Lori found she couldn't keep her anger up for long, and certainly not at Maria. She finally yielded to Maria's nudge and the two of them walked back to the barn. It seemed that this would be their living space for the foreseeable future now.

"Even Brittney Spears never had to put up with this..." Lori sighed.

Maria blinked. "Wha?"

"On that show you liked, 'The Simple Life'"

Maria shook her head. "She wasn't on that, it was Paris Hilton."

"Oh." Lori flicked her tail, thinking for a moment. "Okay, maybe ''she's'' woken up in a barn with her boobs hanging out before." Maria chuckled and even Lori felt a little better; even in her current state she could still look down on Paris Hilton.

The two got to work, hauling down a couple of bales of straw and spreading them on the floor in the two stalls farthest to the back. The padding muffled their hooves nicely but didn't otherwise make the stalls seem very comfortable or 'homey.' "I hope Mistress Livremor isn't thinking of banning us from the loft," Maria mused, obviously thinking along the same lines.

Lori snorted. "We can't go in a real house, so for now ''this'' is our house. We'll sleep in the loft if we want." It wasn't exactly the most ambitious line to draw in the sand but Lori was willing to set her sights a bit lower right now.

Maria nodded. "Still, let's go get some rest while we can. Be a shame to have rearranged it this morning for nothing."

Lori followed Maria up the ladder, curious about what she meant. When she took a second look at the bales of hay that she'd helped Maria stack that morning, though, she chuckled. She hadn't noticed how Maria had been laying out walls into a sort of crude apartment. "Hey, nice idea."

"Thanks." Maria sat down on the other side of one of the bales and stripped off her shirt with a relieved sigh. "I thought we could use the privacy." She lightly massaged her breasts.

Lori's ears flicked back in surprise and she was momentarily unsettled. But Maria's ginger touch didn't seem intended as sexy or inviting and Lori realized she must be having the same tenderness issues that she was. "After what happened yesterday in the pond I'm not sure privacy is really a major concern..."

Maria smiled. "I don't want to rush you into anything. I know that might have been just an impulsive moment..."

"No, I'm okay." Lori pulled off her own shirt and sighed too. "And if nothing else, I've been in plenty of locker rooms." She sat down and tried to relax, her enlarged nipples throbbing but feeling a little better now that they were out from under the constraint of her shirt. She closed her eyes and leaned back, waited for the throbbing to subside.

Maria gave a quiet moan. Lori tried to ignore it, not wanting to intrude. But after a few minutes Maria moaned again, more loudly this time, and then a third time. Lori lifted her head and opened her eyes, turning slightly to glance over at Maria. "Maoooh-" Lori clapped her hand to her mouth, stifling a moan of her own.

It startled Maria too, or at least its sudden cut-off did. "Lori?"

Lori lifted her hand and spoke very carefully, keeping her voice under control. "You were mooing."

Maria snorted incredulously. "I was just-"

"Moaah!" Lori clapped her hand back in place, the interruption having welled up without warning from somewhere deep in her gut. Her face flushed bright red. ''This is new, dammit. But we finished changing already!''

Maria paused, and then resumed speaking with deliberation. "My breasts feel swollen. My udder, too. I feel full. I think..." She trailed off, not wanting to state the obvious idea out loud. Then she let out another loud moan and flinched, realizing for the first time that she had no control over making the sound.

Lori kept one hand firmly over her mouth and used the other to grip one of her lower teats. ''Stay calm, girl,'' she thought to herself. ''Now, how does this work?'' She squeezed gently, trying to find the right motion. It felt good, at least. It felt-

A squirt of white fluid shot out of the tip and sprayed on the wooden floor. "Mmph!" She barely stifled the startled exclamation, even though she'd been expecting it. ''Wrong! Wrong! This is wrong! Mustn't spill!'' She yanked her hand away and scrambled to her hooves, breasts and udder bouncing almost painfully from the extra weight that had accumulated in them since yesterday. "I'm not a cow, I'm ''not!''"

Lori glaring around the loft for a moment as if challenging the universe to an argument. Then the response came from her own mouth in the form of another moo, as unstoppable as a hiccup. She clamped her mouth shut.

"We're lactating. We need to be milked, Lori," Maria spoke quietly and with infuriating resignation from where she sat. "We filled up overnight. That must be what this lowing is about. A signal that we're ready."

Lori shook her head, refusing to believe it. ''No way is Jera milking us. That elf wouldn't get her oh-so-elegant hands dirty with something like that, anyway. Which means...'' Lori's ears pinned back and she bared her teeth. ''No way is ''Bryce'' milking me!'' She'd forgiven him for getting them caught, more or less, considering how bad his own situation had wound up. And there was no way she'd be making fun of his new accent now. But she still didn't like him - her - particularly much and the image of the maid working her teats was too much. "Mustn't spill. Damn that charm, mustn't spill... we need a pail. Maybe we can do this ourselvesmmm." She barely stopped herself from lowing again, though the sensation of doing so was as unpleasant as stifling a sneeze.

Maria got up and helped her search but to Lori's amazement despite all the junk that had been in the barn she didn't find anything that felt suitable. None of the potential containers were hygenic enough, large enough, or otherwise able to satisfy the magic compulsion lurking in the back of her brain that required her to make sure her milk didn't go to waste.

Lori kept herself muffled but Maria let herself moo freely, settling in to a frequency of about thirty seconds to a minute between each. It grated on her nerves. Finally, though, her big bovine ears picked up a different sound; a distant heavy clop of horse's hooves on the dirt road and the creaking rumble of wagon wheels. She and Maria halted their hunt and listened as it stopped for a minute out by the house. Then a smaller set of hooves started clopping closer. They stopped again just outside.

The door opened to reveal Jera Livremor. Lori tensed, reflexively pawing at the ground and snorting, and Maria put a worried hand on Lori's arm to keep her from doing anything rash.

"Good afternoon, girls!" Jera called out cheerfully as she entered. "I have brought your new charge, the start of a new herd for this farm. Her name is Clara. I hope you've prepared that stall for her."

She was followed obediently through the door by an ordinary young calf. It was still gangly and wobbly on its legs, clearly only a matter of days old. This was not at all what Lori had been expecting and in that brief moment of confusion she let her guard down, the moo she'd been holding in slipping free.

The calf perked up at the sound and began to advance toward her, giving an eager bleat of its own. Lori found herself retreating from a horror she couldn't have imagined just days ago. Jera actually let out a laugh at the scene. "Oh, don't tease the little dear, Bess! She had a long and hungry ride over here."

Maria took a deep breath. "Moooaaah!" The calf halted, turning toward her instead.

Lori halted too, locking gazes with Maria. She looked determined, and Lori realized that she'd let out that diversionary moo deliberately. Was she trying to protect her? "Maria..."

Maria shook her head. "Annabell," she murmured back. The calf nuzzled up to Maria's udder and she closed her eyes for a moment, wincing. But then the calf took her teat and began to nurse, and her expression changed to one of relief bordering on ecstasy. "Mmmooh, I needed that," she sighed.

Lori couldn't take the sight and turned, fleeing back up into the loft. The bouncing of her udder was quite uncomfortable by this point, all the moreso now that she knew there was relief for her condition waiting just downstairs. It was an unacceptable relief. Sure, perhaps she needed it right now, and she could perhaps handle it as a one-time thing. But would she be full again the next morning? And the morning after that? And...

''I am not a cow!'' She grabbed her shirt from where she'd left it and gingerly tried slipping it back on, but her swollen nipples were just too sensitive now. Not to mention the quiet, insistent feeling in the back of her mind that she really should leave them exposed for ease of access... Lori let out a deep, moaning moo, and hurled her shirt angrily into the corner. "Fine, yoou want me naked? Fine!" She stripped off her jeans too, leaving her with just the collar. She grabbed it and started trying to pull it open, but although there was no warning zap this time she knew with sick certainty that there was no way it was going to come off. It represented the elf magic that bound her, that was now fully a part of her.

It was some time before Maria eventually climbed up into the loft too, approaching as gently as she could on cloven hooves. Lori was sitting on a straw bale and didn't speak, jaw clamped tightly shut to stifle her lowing, but Maria had recovered from her need and spoke softly. "Um... are you mad at me?"

Lori met her gaze. Maria hadn't been afraid down below with that ravenous calf bearing down at her, but now she was clearly frightened. Tears were on her cheeks not from the humiliation she'd just experienced but from fear of what Lori thought of her for it. Lori shook her head.

Maria smiled, looking as relieved as she'd been when that calf had started draining her. "Thank god. I swear, I didn't want to go first, but you looked so scared... I promise, it wasn't bad. Clara was eager but very well behaved. She should be a little less enthusiastic now, too."

Lori cocked her head, puzzled. "Mmroo?"

Maria glanced over to the ladder leading down. "For your turn. Taurids aren't as big as real cows, Clara's still hungry and I'm tapped out." The calf sent a plaintive moo of its own up from below, as if in confirmation.

Lori stood up, wincing at the heavy bounce of her swollen mammaries. "Nnoo!"

"Please, Bess!"

Lori froze and stared at Maria again. She was smiling earnestly, but was there something more to her expression? ''Jera sent her up,'' she realized.

Maria gave a small nod, the fear back in her eyes again. "Mistress Livremor wants me to bring you back down," she spoke quietly. "S-she gave me these..." Maria held up a set of fine silver manacles she'd been keeping tucked discreetly out of sight. "I don't want to use them, I don't want you to be mad. But it wasn't so bad, and we have to accept..."

"Moaaah," Lori lowed, then shook her head and tried again. "Moooah..." She gritted her teeth. She needed to be milked so badly now that she couldn't even get Maria's name out without mooing.

"She said she'd send Bridgette up if I didn't," Maria added tearfully.

That did it. There was no way Lori was going to let Bryce chain her up. But Maria, at least, she trusted. And there was no escaping her need to be milked, not any more. She reluctantly held out her hands.

"Behind your back," Maria specified. Lori flushed and embarrassed red and turned around, complying. The silver cuffs clicked into place and Lori thought she felt a tingle, but shook her head. Considering all it had done to her already there was little to fear from additional elf magic.

The two descended back down to the main floor, Maria holding Lori steady as she went down the ladder without free hands. Jera and Clara were waiting. Clara had been moved to the stall they'd prepared for her, and Jera stood impatiently just outside. "Finally, Bess. I swear, you are such a disobedient one. But I see you finally got rid of the rest of that horrid clothing, good girl."

She gestured for her to come over and enter the stall. Lori grudgingly did, feeling like she was walking the last mile. When she got there Jera hooked a short chain to her collar, pulling it around behind her to fasten her to the stall's wall. "There. Now you'll take your turn, and like it. Clara's very young, you know, they're cheapest when they're fresh from the mother like that."

The calf nosed around Lori's udder and she tensed at the lips mouthing at her teats. ''Just... just pretend...'' She thought desperately, trying to come up with some less humiliating scenario to console herself with.

Clara latched on and began to suckle, milk draining from Lori's strained glands and tears trickling from her eyes. Maria stood pensively just outside the stall and tried to meet her gaze again to offer what comfort she could.

''No. I'm not a cow,'' she grimaced. Maybe Maria was right. Maybe playing along might make things easier for now. But there had to be some way out of this eventually. And until then...

Clara was insatiable but perhaps that was for the best. It took her at least fifteen minutes to empty Lori's udder. Lori kept her eyes shut for most of it, trying to ride out the experience without paying it any more attention. But when she was done she could still feel a moo lodged at the back of her throat waiting to come out, and her regular human breasts still felt just as tight as her udder had. "Lean forward a bit," Maria urged. "Clara can't reach."

Lori shook her head silently, tears streaming down her cheeks. The chain wasn't nearly long enough and she couldn't take any more of this. But then Maria's soft touch on her shoulder pulled her back from the brink of despair. Maria had clearly seen Lori's problem and gave her a nervous smile. "Mistress is out of the barn right now," she spoke quietly. "Don't know when she'll be back to fix this chain. Let me help." She leaned tentatively closer.

Lori guessed what she meant to do and held still in quiet acceptance, though she found her heart racing and she had no idea what she'd think of it once this overriding need was passed. Maria took one of Lori's engorged nipples into her own mouth and started massaging its length with her tongue, sucking gently to get her milk flowing.

A small sigh escaped Lori's throat. This was quite different from Clara's mindless urgency, a more tender ministration that Lori had to admit actually felt quite good. Maria swallowed each mouthful she drew out, careful not to spill a drop. A corner of Lori's mind wondered why this wasn't considered forbidden 'elf food' like the bread or vegetables had been, but it was a very small corner; the rest of her mind was too busy feeling various flavors of pleasure and relief.

Eventually Maria switched breasts, and then some time later finished the second one too. Lori sighed again as Maria pulled away, her nipple slipping from the warmth of her mouth. "Thank you," she murmured. Maria smiled and just kissed Lori in response. Lori kissed back. The sweet taste on Maria's lips was from her own milk, she realized, but she found herself remarkably undisturbed by that.

A plaintive high-pitched moo from Clara interrupted their kiss by actually managing to trigger a small laugh. "Maybe she's feeling cheated?" Maria mused.

Lori shook her head. "Jera's fault, this short chain-" Maria cut her off by resuming their kiss.

Still chained up and with her hands bound behind her back Lori was unable to resist. Maybe she'd never learn to accept all aspects of her situation. But right now Lori found that she didn't mind this particular one.

{{Separator|d|End}}

{{author's note|This story was written partly as a birthday gift for a friend of mine, and partly to prove that guys can so write lesbian erotica (rather than just porn). It was inspired by a pair of drawings by an artist named Baltymora, whom I can't seem to find on the Internet now.}}

[[Category:Martin Divo]]
[[Category:Bovine]]

User:Martin Divo

2009-06-07T02:04:08Z

Martin Divo: I've accumulated a number of stories since uploading True Reflection, adding links.

Haven't written a lot and most of what I've written isn't worth showing. But a few are so I'll put them here.

*[[True Reflection]] - An oldie of mine. Once once featured on a site called the "Slaughterhouse" that pointed out how cliche it was, but I happen to think cliches can be popular for a reason. :)
*[[Livremor Estate]] - This was written for a friend of mine on the occasion of her birthday. It was inspired by a pair of pictures by an artist named Baltymora, whom I can no longer easily find on the net.
*[[Caught in a Squeeze]] - A short story with little point or plot. I had no idea what was going on myself until it was over.
*[[Seas of the Moon]] - Inspired by a sketch.

This one was by a friend of mine who didn't want to post it anywhere, but who graciously allowed me to do so anonymously here on his or her behalf:

* [[The Mission to Delph's Hollow]]

{{author page|Martin Divo}}{{DEFAULTSORT:Martin Divo}}

User talk:Martin Divo

2007-09-18T06:01:35Z

Martin Divo: thanks

Category:Martin Divo

2007-09-18T01:01:26Z

Martin Divo: New page: {{author category}}

True Reflection

2007-09-18T00:59:06Z

Martin Divo: adding templates and another category

[[Category:Story]] [[Category:Martin Divo]] [[Category:Anthropomorphic]]
{{byline|author= Martin Divo|user=Martin Divo}}

{{dropcap|T}}he carpet had a deep enough pile that sleeping on it was not entirely uncomfortable, and so it took Karen several minutes from the point when she first began to regain consciousness to when she realized that something was wrong. Her eyes flew open at that point and she sat up, blinking in confusion as she looked around at where she was.

Someone's living room... a very large, richly-furnished living room, at that. She didn't recognize it, though, or remember falling asleep here. She didn't really remember falling asleep at all, for that matter; the last thing she could recall was being on her way home after work. And now she was here. Coughing nervously to clear her voice, she called out a cautious "hello?" She didn't see or hear anyone, and nobody responded to her call. ''Perhaps I should just leave, and figure out what's going on when I'm somewhere familiar...'' Climbing to her feet, using the couch she'd been sleeping in front of to prop herself up on, she looked around for the most likely exit.

She felt an odd band clinging around her neck at that point, and when she reached up to touch it her plan to depart was momentarily forgotten under a surge of surprise and concern. She felt a thick leather collar on her throat, complete with decorative metal studs and a ''tag'' hanging from the ring in front. "Okay, this is getting too weird," she grumbled as she tried to undo the buckle. She was still wearing all the clothing she'd had on when her memory ended, right down to her shoes, but who knew what else had been done to her? If someone could bring her to a strange house and put a collar on her without her notice...

Karen's heart began to hammer with fear, and her attempt to undo the buckle started turning desperate. ''Why won't it come ''off''?'' The strap seemed glued to itself, the collar fused into an inseparable loop. ''Dammit! I'll have to cut this thing off when I get home.'' The fingers of one hand still hooked around the side of the collar, she picked a door and headed for it. She was halfway when she suddenly heard a faint high-pitched whistle that sent a strange shiver down her spine. She hesitated at the sound, turning to look for the source.

There was a man standing in the door behind her, one which a moment earlier had been closed. He was dressed in a dark but comfortable-looking casual suit, and he held a small silver whistle to his lips. Karen fought the urge to flee in terror, staring at him in the hopes that she'd recognize him from somewhere. But she drew a blank. He looked about thirty years old, with brown hair and plain features that could belong to any average joe.

"I don't think you should go out just yet, Amber," the man said calmly.

"My name's Karen," Karen snapped, and then grimaced as she realized she shouldn't have given out her name like that. "Who are you, and where am I?"

The man smiled, and ignored her question. "Amber's the name on your tag," he countered, "and I think it suits you better. I chose it for you, after all."

Karen flushed angrily, and yanked her hand away from the collar. "Look here, mister mysterious. I don't know how I got here, but I'm damned well ''leaving''."

The man's smile didn't waver. "I thought you might feel that way. I'll just have to teach you otherwise. Sit!" The man's firm command caught Karen by surprise, but that was nothing compared to how surprising her own reaction to it was. Without a moment's hesitation her legs folded, and she sat down crosslegged on the carpet. She was so stunned by her unintended compliance that she remained sitting there for almost ten seconds before she tried to scramble back to her feet. "Stay!" The man's second command cut off her attempt before she even reached her knees, and Karen found that for some unknown reason she just ''couldn't''.

Karen's fear finally broke through to the surface, and she looked at the man with terror in her eyes. "What did you do to me?" she whimpered.

"Hey, it's okay, Amber. Don't be afraid." The man's tone was soothing, but it didn't help all that much. He walked into the room from the door, heading over to the couch Karen was sitting in front of and sitting down himself. Karen was literally trembling as he approached, but even with the force of her fear behind the desire to run away she simply couldn't bring herself to stand back up. Her legs weren't paralysed, she just couldn't make them do what she wanted them to do.

"The collar you're wearing is a magical artefact" the man began to explain, his voice as calm as if he were discussing something perfectly sane. "It's a collar of control, a relatively minor and common enchantment in its day. But, of course, very rare now. This whistle," he held the small silver whistle up, "imprinted it on me. That means you have to obey my commands. Have to. Don't bother fighting it, you might as well just go with the flow."

Karen shook her head in disbelief and denial. "You're crazy. Let me go, I promise I won't tell anyone, just... just let me go!"

"Come now, if I was going to do that would I have gone to all the trouble to bring you here in the first place?" The man leaned back in the couch and chuckled, grinning. "No, I'm not going to let you go. You're mine now, for as long as I want you. Be good and obey me willingly, and things will be easy. I'm sure you'll learn to love it here, Amber."

"People will notice I'm missing! ''Please''!"

The man sighed and shook his head. "I figured this might happen. The collar only forces your body to obey; I guess I'll have to let your heart follow on its own in due time." He stood back up. "Amber, heel!"

Karen leapt to her feet, suddenly able to command her legs to do so again... but found herself unable to carry out the second half of her desire and run away from this madman. "No! Oh god, please let me go!"

"Quiet!" The man snapped, and Karen suddenly found her voice silenced. She could only sniffle quietly and wipe tears from her eyes as the man walked out of the room into a hallway, and she followed closely behind him. She wanted to run, she wanted to punch and kick and scream... but meekly following felt totally natural, and that was all she could bring herself to do.

The man brought her to a small, windowless bedroom and led her inside. "Very nice. At least the obedience part works as it should. Okay, Amber, this will be your room for now; there's a bathroom through that door over there and I'll bring you some food a bit later. I'll leave you to get comfortable here, and calm down a bit. Stay!" Backing out of the room, the man closed the door behind him. Karen heard the lock click, and then the sound of the man walking away. Tears welling in her eyes and blurring her vision, Karen stumbled over to a small chair and sat shakily. She still couldn't make a sound, but at least she was free to move around again... within the confines of this room, of course.

It took Karen a while to pull herself back together again, although her watch was missing so she didn't know exactly how long. Eventually, though, she was collected enough to look around and start thinking seriously about her situation.

She was in the hands of a madman... but at least one with the comfort of his prisoner in mind. The room was quite nice, furnished simply but richly. The bed looked very comfortable, but Karen couldn't bring herself to lie down on it despite a wave of fatigue from the stress she'd been under. The attached bathroom was also small but good quality, with only a toilet, sink, and mirror. No razors in the drawers, of course... Karen returned to the bedroom again and paced restlessly, trying to work out what to do.

Escape, of course, or at least call for help. But how to get through the door? It was just an ordinary wooden door, she realized. Flimsy. She could probably smash it down with the chair, perhaps quickly enough that the man wouldn't get here in time... But no, she realized, she ''couldn't''. As much as it galled and terrified her to admit it, she was prevented from even trying to turn the doorknob by the man's firm instruction to stay here. He might as well have not even locked it, though in a way she was glad that he had at least allowed her that illusion. Or perhaps he simply wasn't sure if the command alone would be enough.

Karen angrily yanked on the collar, frustrated beyond words even if she hadn't already been ordered not to speak. It didn't feel uncomfortable or tight, though it wasn't loose enough to slide up or down her neck very far, but it was so damned ''restrictive'' in every other sense! Normally Karen wouldn't have given the slightest credibility to anything described as a "magical artefact," but given the evidence she couldn't imagine any more reasonable explanation. Opening the door may be trivial, but in order to escape she first had to get this thing off.

Examining it in the bathroom mirror was no help; the buckle looked completely normal, but was nonetheless frozen solidly shut. She did discover one interesting thing in the process, though. After becoming annoyed with looking at the name "Amber" engraved in her tag hanging underneath, she'd turned the tag over and discovered that "Property of Zeiss" was engraved on the back. An alias, perhaps, but at least now she had a name with which she could label the man behind all of this. She just wished it didn't say "property of," that was even more demeaning than a new name being forced un her like this...

Upset by her failure and the writing on her tag, Karen returned to pacing. She'd searched the room from top to bottom three times now and found nothing useful, and then had carefully tidied everything back the way it had been for lack of anything better to do. She was now both worn out from stress ''and'' bored. Sighing, she sat down on the floor and leaned her back against the side of the bed. After staring at the wall for a few minutes, she lay down on her side. Perhaps a quick nap would help, she thought wearily, and squirmed a little as she tried to get comfortable. She didn't feel quite right, somehow...

The thought that perhaps sleeping ''on'' the bed rather than on the carpet beside it again didn't occur to her. Instead, she unbuttoned her blouse and then removed her bra. That wasn't quite enough, though, so she took off her jeans too. "Hmmm," she sighed in relief, and curled up at the foot of the bed. She felt much more comfortable now. Within minutes, she had dozed off.

{{separator|j}}

Karen snapped awake again at the sound of the lock turning. Sitting up, confused but instantly alert, she looked at the door and sniffed the air. She caught a whiff of something delicious even before the door opened to reveal Zeiss bearing a tray. Her mouth watered, and for a moment all that crossed her mind was that she was hungry, and happy he'd brought her something to eat.

Then, quite abruptly, she realized that she was totally naked. With a strangled, startled yelp she snatched up her discarded blouse and held it tightly against her chest as she scooted away from him to hide behind the bed. She was torn between total embarrassment and sheer terror; how would this madman react to a naked female captive?

He laughed. "Oh, Amber, there's no need to be shy. You look quite beautiful, I assure you." Karen tried to say something in response, but since she still hadn't been given leave to speak all that came out was another whimper. Zeiss laughed again. "This is fascinating... absolutely fascinating. Come on over here, Amber, let me see you... Come!"

She couldn't stop herself from approaching Zeiss once the command was given, but Karen remained crouched down with the blouse hugged tightly to her chest in a desperate attempt to maintain her modesty. He reached down and patted her condescendingly on the top of her head as she huddled at his feet, and then ordered "Give." Miserably, she handed over the blouse she'd been clutching. She just hoped he wouldn't order her to stand up, too...

Zeiss looked her over, examining her body in a manner that was both clinical and admiring. "Well now," he said once finished, "Looks like we may be experiencing some side effects, hm? The texts weren't entirely clear on how this collar would affect a human, just that it ''could''. Looks like obedience to commands isn't the only behavior it's imposing." Setting the tray of food down on the small table by the chair, Zeiss quickly picked up the rest of the clothing Karen had thoughtlessly shed before dozing off. He tossed them out the door, and Karen could only look mournfully after them. She was beginning to realize what Zeiss meant, and the concept horrified her.

Zeiss stood silently for a moment, looking down at Karen's crouched form thoughtfully, and then headed out the door himself. "Let's try a little experiment, shall we?" He closed the door, and Karen heard the lock click shut again. She didn't move until she was sure he'd walked away again, though, at which point she put her face in her hands and shuddered.

Dog collar. It kept running through her mind, over and over. The collar was obviously meant for dogs, and only dogs; it made dogs behave like obedient dogs. Made ''her'' behave like an obedient dog... ''No! I'll ''not'' act like an animal for him!'' she beat her fists firmly against the sides of her head, and forced herself to stand up straight and tall despite her nakedness. ''I am not an animal. I'm human.''

Her stomach growled, and she sniffed the air again. ''Hungry human,'' she amended, looking at the tray he'd brought in. The plate had a stake on it, thankfully well-cooked, and a serving of mashed potatoes; a very hearty meal. She definitely wanted it, and licked her lips in anticipation.

But she couldn't eat it. Something was holding her back; some nagging concern... ''Oh god,'' she thought numbly. ''It's on a table. That's why I can't...'' Sinking to sit heavily on the floor again, Karen stared at the food on the table for many long minutes. She just couldn't bring herself to touch it, as much as she wanted to.

Until, finally, Zeiss returned. He didn't say a word, he just took the plate off of the table and placed it on the floor. Then he left, and Karen stared at it for several more long minutes trying to hold herself ''back''. But in the end, she couldn't really do that either. When Zeiss finally came back to pick up the plate, she had licked it completely clean.

"Good girl," he murmured with a lopsided grin. Karen just curled tighter where she lay, on her side in the far corner of the room, trying to hide her shame within herself. Zeiss left her to work out her thoughts on her own.

{{separator|j}}

For the next few days the situation didn't develop into anything much worse than that, though it was certainly bad enough that Karen retreated into denial for a while. Zeiss didn't bring her any replacement clothes, not that Karen would have been able to wear them for any length of time anyway. Dogs did not wear clothes. Nor did they eat food on tables using utensils, drink from glasses, or sleep in beds unless explicitly permitted to curl up on top of the covers. Zeiss didn't permit her to, of course, instead putting a large padded dog basket in her room for her to sleep in. He left the bed there too, though, perhaps to test the strength of the collar's conditioning or perhaps simply because it was too much bother to remove.

The only thing Karen was thankful for, and she was ''very'' thankful for it, was that nothing seemed to stop her from using the toilet or walking around normally like the human she was. It was all that allowed her to keep her self image as such, and left her with a kernel of hope that she might yet manage to get out of this bizarre hell. She was very careful to keep her hygiene up, too, washing herself every day in the sink and keeping her hair as tidy as possible. It was all she could do to maintain her dignity.

It was while she was washing up on the seventh day of her captivity, however, that she discovered something which very nearly drove her over the edge of despair completely. In hindsight she realized it must have begun earlier, and only gradually progressed until she noticed it now, but... she was starting to change into a dog ''physically'', too. Her nails were thicker and darker than usual. The tips of her ears were pointed, and fringed with a slight fuzz of hair growth. The tip of her nose was slightly upturned, her canine teeth seemed a bit longer than they had been before, and her irises were larger than they used to be. Their color was changing too, from her normal dark brown to a lighter, yellower... amber.

Zeiss must have heard her sobbing, since it was nowhere near time for her daily meal when he came into her room. He'd been leaving her alone for the most part, only coming in to test his control over her a couple of times in the past week and only for short periods; Karen had ended up spending most of the time lying in her basket or doing mild aerobics to keep in shape. It had left her genuinely puzzled over his motives in keeping her here, though it was clear he must be fairly far over the edge in ''some'' way to be doing it.

This time, he seemed downright sympathetic and tender. He had sat down next to Karen's bed and gently stroked her head; she'd shuddered in revulsion at his touch at first, but eventually the canine elements in her psyche began to respond and she slowly calmed down. Finally, she uncurled and looked pleadingly into Zeiss's eyes.

His expression was inscrutable. He must have been able to see the changes in her face by now, but he gave no indication; perhaps he'd already noticed some time earlier. But instead of saying anything to her about it, he simply told her "Speak."

It was the first time he had given her leave to talk since the first day, and at for a moment she had no idea what to say. "I don't want to be an animal," she mumbled at last. "I want to go home."

Resting his hand reassuringly on her shoulder. "It's okay, Amber. You ''are'' home."

Squeezing her eyes shut against the tears, Karen whimpered "Please. My name is Karen. I live at 121 Maple Street. I don't want to forget..."

"You won't," Zeiss murmured reassuringly, petting the back of her head again. "I've been doing some more research, now that I know what to look for. And I am certain that you ''will'' be happy here. Just go with the flow, as I have always told you."

"Why? Why are you doing this to me?"

"You'll find out. Eventually, you'll understand."

Zeiss continued to stroke her head for a few more minutes, until finally Karen couldn't bear how good it felt any longer. "Go away," she told him softly, and without another word he stood and left. Karen stayed curled in her basket, emotionally drained, and didn't realize that he'd left her with her voice back until almost an hour later. She was starting to recover by then anyways, and that cinched it. She stood back up and walked over into the bathroom again.

"Subtle changes," she muttered to herself as she stared at her reflection. "Subtle changes... but I'm watching. I know it's happening." It was an oddly reassuring thought.

{{separator|j}}

The physical changes began to abandon subtlety shortly thereafter, as if perhaps sensing it was no longer relevant; within two more days Karen had developed a soft fuzz of a pelt over her entire body and the skin on the tip of her nose had begun to turn dark and leathery. On the one hand it was horrifying to see it happen, but on the other at least Karen was beginning to feel a little more comfortable with her nakedness. The downside was that she could no longer sweat, and she discontinued the aerobics routine she'd developed to pass the time. Panting kept her cool easily enough, but she just didn't like the image it projected.

Karen had already become quite thoroughly confused about her self-image by that point, and the thickening coat of fur certainly didn't help matters. She acted so much like a dog under the influence of the collar, and now she was starting to ''look'' like one too, that she was beginning to wonder if it might be easier to think of herself as an animal rather than a human now. She continued to resist that, though, and kept reminding herself that she'd only been here for ten days so far. She didn't want to crack just yet, there were still too many unknowns about what Zeiss had planned for her.

But soon the boredom started getting to her, leaving her pacing incessantly or spending hours endlessly running her fingers over her body to explore the alterations happening to it. Zeiss finally seemed to notice she was going over the edge, or at least the ''wrong'' edge according to whatever plans he might have for her. He came to her again the next morning, after she had finished her habitual grooming in the bathroom, and asked how she was doing. Karen didn't answer at first, wondering whether he knew he'd left her with he ability to talk still and not wanting to tip her hand, but then Zeiss added "Would you like me to let you out of this room for a little while?"

"Yes! Yes yes, oh please, just a little," Karen pleaded excitedly. In the back of her mind she grimaced at herself, at the eager tone and lack of self-control; she was sure that if she had had a tail it'd be wagging at this point. Thank god for small mercies.

Zeiss chuckled at her response and reached over to ruffle Karen's hair; she shied away, and he didn't force the issue. "Alright, Amber, let's go for a little walk. Heel." Falling in behind him as he walked out the door, Karen wondered if this was really a good idea. But she didn't have a choice in the matter at this point anyways, and if nothing else she really ''did'' want to see someplace different for a change.

Zeiss took her on a short tour of part of the house, including the living room where she'd first awakened. Karen followed with nervous excitement and trepidation, wondering if she'd run into anyone else around the place. She knew it was unlikely Zeiss would let her see anyone that could rescue her, of course, and in her current condition the embarrassment would be unbearable...

They finally stopped back at the living room again, and Zeiss watched Karen for a minute thoughtfully as she stood next to him. She was curious and alert, sniffing the air incessantly and looking around the room, but remained firmly by his side. "Alright, you can stay in this room for an hour," he said at last. "I'm going to go run an errand. Don't leave this room, and be a good girl. Show me I can trust you."

Karen blinked at him in surprise, then nodded cautiously. Zeiss turned and left the room, closing the door behind him. ''Okay... what do I do now?'' Karen looked around the room again. She couldn't use any of the furniture, her collar would prevent such behavior, but she didn't feel like sitting down just yet. This was the most promising thing to happen to her so far! She set about exploring the room thoroughly, rifling through drawers looking for anything that might contain useful information.

There wasn't all that much. A few books lying around, some old newspapers, nothing to tell her the address of the large house or the true identity of her captor. The view out the window wasn't much help either, the yard outside was large and surrounded by tall trees and fences. She could be practically anywhere.

The thought of leaving the room did occur to her, of course, and she wasn't entirely certain the collar would prevent her from doing so in this case; Zeiss hadn't used the word "stay", and the collar had so far seemed to be tuned to traditional canine commands like that. But eventually she decided against it. For all she knew Zeiss was waiting just outside to see if she'd try that, and if she proved trustworthy ''now'' his guard would be down ''later''. The room explored and the decision made, Karen stretched out on the plush carpet and turned on the TV to wait. She turned to the news channel, wondering if perhaps her disappearance had been noted, and spent the rest of her hour watching attentively.

Zeiss came back an hour later, as promised. Karen turned off the TV with the remote, but remained stretched out on the carpet where she was and watched him as he briefly surveyed the room. She'd been careful to put everything back exactly where it had been, and evidently nothing seemed out of place to Zeiss. He smiled down at her. "Good ''girl'', Amber!" he praised. Karen grimaced; that had been the reaction she'd hoped for, but nonetheless it still grated a little. She hoped her expression wasn't too apparent through the short fur on her face.

Zeiss took her back down to her room again right afterwards, but promised her he'd let her out for a while again soon. Karen looked forward to it; if this became a regular thing, she'd no doubt soon have more information and better opportunities to make a break for it. She just had to keep playing along, acting the role of the faithful pet above and beyond what the collar itself was forcing on her. She resolved to swallow her pride from this point on to accomplish that end, and only hoped that there would ''be'' an opportunity resulting from that sacrifice. She had no idea how long she could keep it up, otherwise...

{{separator|j}}

Zeiss' treatment of Karen began to change almost as much as her appearance over the next week. Soon he was regularly giving her the run of the house's main floor for hours on end, letting her wander around unsupervised after giving her careful instructions not to touch telephones or go beyond her boundaries. Karen continued to comply willingly, expecting that at this rate she'd have her perfect opportunity any day now.

She just hoped she'd be recognizably human when that time came. Her pelt had finished growing out into a thick, soft coat of light brown fur; it was a slightly darker shade of her own original hair color, though that original hair had been replaced by the fur by this point too. Her nails had developed into blunt black claws, her ears were fully erect triangles that twitched reflexively to catch sounds, and her lower face was beginning to thrust outwards into a short muzzle. Black leathery pads covered the palms of her hands and the soles of her feet. She'd even sprouted a tail stub from the base of her spine, an addition to her physiology that felt as much a part of her as her fingers were.

On the twentieth day of her captivity, Zeiss took Karen outside into the back yard for the first time. The sensory stimuli nearly overwhelmed her initially; the scents and sounds were especially intense to her new nose and ears. Zeiss gave her a while to get used to it, sitting quietly on a deck chair while she blinked and sniffed. Then, once she was accustomed to it, he cleared his throat to catch her attention.

"Would you like to play a little game, Amber?"

Karen pondered the question for a moment, and then nodded warily. "Okay, I guess."

Zeiss grinned. "Excellent. It's very, very simple." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a large red rubber ball. Karen felt a sudden sinking sensation as she realized what game he had in mind.

"Fetch!" Karen sprang into motion, a surge of excitement rushing through her and blotting out the moment's reluctance. ''Chase chase chase chase... there!'' Pouncing on the ball, Karen scooped it up in her hands and sprinted back up the yard to Zeiss. She handed it to him, panting slightly from the exertion. "Good girl, Amber! Now... fetch!" He threw it again, and again Karen couldn't stop herself from bounding instantly after it. She quickly lost count of exactly how many times the cycle repeated. It was hard to think about it much under the circumstances.

Finally, after dropping the ball into Zeiss' hands for the umpteenth time, he relented. "Good job, Amber. Take a break." Karen collapsed to the ground in relief, stretching out on her belly in the cool grass and panting heavily. Her tongue lolled out between her lower canines, longer and broader than used to be, and she couldn't spare the breath to lick up the drops of saliva that fell to the ground from its tip. She was exhausted.

She was also exhilarated. She had felt totally ''alive'', thrilled to simply run and run and run while chasing a stupid rubber ball. She felt too good to even be disturbed by that fact; it was enough right now simply to accept it. Then Zeiss leaned over in his chair and began scratching her lightly on the back of her neck, right behind her ear, and she found it blissful to simply accept that too. Sensing no resistance on her part, Zeiss kept up the scratching. He slowly increased his efforts into a full backrub, scratching her all the way down her spine to the base of her tail, and with only a slight nudge to prompt her Karen rolled over onto her side and let Zeiss rub her belly. He chuckled out loud when Karen's leg started twitching reflexively in true canine fashion.

Through the warm, murky haze of pleasure, Karen could only sigh in contentment and think to herself that she had got him to totally trust her now. It was a good feeling, knowing that.

{{separator|j}}

Karen vaguely remembered Zeiss carrying her totally relaxed body back inside and laying her down gently on the floor back in her room. She had rolled onto her back and displayed her belly invitingly to him again with a somewhat goofy smile spread across her muzzle; he'd looked down at her thoughtfully, stroking his chin, and then had finally knelt down to give her a final scratch behind her ear.

She had licked his hand. She had actually ''licked'' his hand at that point! Karen shook her head in horrified amazement at the memory; what had possibly come over her? She hadn't been ''ordered'' to, and although the collar had forced canine mannerisms on her it surely couldn't force her to ''like'' them...

He may have come to trust her, but ''she'' had also come to trust ''him'' in some strange and twisted way. Karen climbed to her feet and patted down her ruffled fur, the pleasant memory of all that rubbing still fresh in her mind. "What am I thinking? What am I ''feeling?''" she mumbled in confusion. She wandered over into her bathroom, toe-claws ticking lightly on the tile floor, and stared into her reflection as if searching her face for an answer.

Her face was a dog's face. It was still human in general outline but all the canine features were fully developed now. And dogs love their masters, of course... Karen shuddered, turning away. ''The man may have shown me kindness but remember that he ''did'' kidnap me,'' she reminded herself. He forced me into this. He put this damned collar on me. He's responsible for turning me into this ''animal.''

Her perspective restored, at least for the moment, Karen turned back to the mirror and examined herself again. She could almost swear the physical changes had progressed significantly even in the short time she'd been awake that day; her tail was over a foot long now, and she herself was almost a full foot shorter than she had been before. Her fingers seemed shorter too, a little stubbier, and she began to dread the day her hands were no better than paws. Would she be reduced to walking on all fours, too? Was she going to lose her voice for good, perhaps even her mind as well?

Karen retreated back to her room and sat on her haunches in the corner, hugging her knees to her chest and whimpering slightly. She felt no closer to escaping, if anything the chance seemed more and more distant, and her time had almost run out...

She was composed again when Zeiss returned a few hours later, curled up in her bed and resting off the remainder of her exhaustion from the run. He brought a bowl of food; Karen could tell from the scent that it was dog food, the stuff he'd started feeding her a few days back. She hardly even protested or hesitated at the time, she recalled miserably. In fact, she'd been pleased with how easy it was to eat directly from the dish compared to most human foods. "Thought you'd like to build your energy back up," he told her. "And here, for your effort." He set a milkbone down beside the food bowl. Karen just stared at it and drooped a little in dejection.

Zeiss noticed her reaction. "What's the matter, Amber? You don't like being given a treat?" he asked with mild surprise.

Karen couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not, but took it at face value and shook her head slightly. "It's not that... I, I... it smells good..." tears welled up in her eyes, and her voice momentarily choked off in a despairing whine. "I had fun!" she wailed. She hated to admit it to Zeiss, of all people, but she had to tell it to someone.

He didn't respond, at least not in words. Instead he stroked and petted the fur down her back, gently scratched her behind the ears, and when she began to lean into him he hugged her head to his chest and she buried her nose in his scent. Despite herself, it felt calming and wonderful; she had soon sobbed herself dry. Once her breathing had become slow and regular, he carefully disengaged from her and stood back up. Karen remained sitting on the floor, leaning wearily on her hands to support herself. "I'm... sorry," she sniffled quietly.

"It's okay, I think I understand," Zeiss assured her. "But I know you can handle it. You're a good girl, Amber. Now, why don't you eat a bit? You'll feel better on a full stomach."

"Later," she mumbled. "Soon. Please, just... I need to think."

Zeiss nodded and withdrew from the room, closing the door behind him. Karen just sat and stared dully at the milk bone, her mind whirling with the same pair of thoughts over and over. ''He can make me behave like a dog but he can't make me like it,'' was one. The other, much more reluctantly admitted but just as fundamentally true as far as she could see; ''I did enjoy myself out there. I did like it...''

She just couldn't face the logical conclusion of those two facts, not yet at any rate. Zeiss was right; she needed to fill her stomach. It'd take her mind off of things for a little while, if nothing else. Crouching over the food dish on her hands and knees, Karen lowered her head and methodically ate the entire serving. Afterward, she munched up the milkbone as well. It was delicious.

{{separator|j}}

Karen slept very soundly that night, despite the intensely troubling thoughts she went to bed with. When she woke up late the next morning she felt fully recharged again; she stood and stretched, then shook herself vigorously and walked over to the bathroom for her morning grooming.

She didn't wash much any more, without sweat glands her fur didn't get dirty as rapidly as her skin and hair used to, but brushing her coat to a fine gloss more than made up for that hole in her schedule. She took the opportunity to do a full self- examination to see what changes the collar had wrought during the night, as she did each morning, and this time she found that the results of her survey were almost encouraging. She hadn't changed quite as much as she'd feared, based on how quickly she'd been changing during the day.

Her tail had passed the two-foot-long mark, as she had kind of expected; comparing its proportions to the rest of her body suggested that it was just about done growing now anyways. The light brown fur had sprouted especially thick and long on it, and she brushed it thoroughly; she found herself thinking it made a passable substitute for the long hair she'd originally had on her head. She wanted it to look nice.

The rest of her body had also undergone alterations, but it was all a matter of incremental degree; her fingers just a bit stubbier, her muzzle just a bit longer, her ears a bit higher and her overall height a big shorter. Her breasts had become greatly reduced in profile lately, but despite her fears still managed to hang on; in fact, as she ran her claws through the fur on her belly, she discovered that they'd been joined by four new ones. The extra nipples that had appeared a few days back, hidden under the fur, had small but definite swellings under them. They'd developed more nerve endings too, she noted with interest as her exploring fingertips sent a pleasant tingle through her gut.

Karen sighed, and sat down in the corner of the room by her bed. Now that her head was clearer and the emotions distanced a bit she needed to do some more thinking. She was slipping into acceptance, she admitted to herself; she must have subconsciously decided that there was no escape, that she should make the best of her situation as it was. But what could she do about it? She didn't want to suddenly start making things as difficult as she could at every step; not only would it make Zeiss raise his guard again after letting it slowly drop so far, but if Zeiss decided to throw the hardball back at her he could make her life ''extremely'' difficult. As things were, he was being kind and generous to her. Caring, even.

''He kidnapped you,'' she berated herself abruptly with a shake of her head. ''Kidnapped you, kidnapped you, kidnapped you. It is not 'caring' simply to be nice about it.'' Still, she couldn't shake that feeling despite intellectually knowing better. The man had her completely within his power, but not once had he forced himself on her or forced her to do anything truly unpleasant. Other than making her act like a dog all the time, of course, but that was the collar's fault and not his...

Unable to get her feelings about Zeiss' behavior straightened out in her mind, Karen finally decided to see if he was in the house at the moment. Perhaps seeing him would help. Leaving her room, to which she had not been confined at all for many days now, she padded quietly through the hallways looking for him. She heard him moving around upstairs, but upon realizing that he was in one of the rooms to which she was still forbidden access she decided to wait for him in the living room.

The living room had become her favorite room in the house, despite the bad memories associated with waking up there back when she'd first been kidnapped... so long ago now, it seemed, though it was really still no more than a month back. She could watch TV there when he was out of the house or gave her specific permission, though she didn't do so very often any more; it seemed somehow pointless to try to keep up with what was going on in the outside world. She couldn't get out there, after all. It was more relaxing and of more immediate relevance to instead lie on the floor in front of the picture window, curled or outstretched as the mood suited her, and watch the front yard for activity.

She'd never spotted another human, though recently she'd startled herself by barking vigorously at birds or other small animals that came into view. Yet another embarrassing but irresistible canine urge that she'd been forced to quickly accept, and fortunately Zeiss hadn't been bothered by it yet. He seemed to find it amusing, in fact. She settled down in front of the window to wait.

Eventually Zeiss came downstairs and entered the room to find her lying in her usual spot. He smiled at her, and her tail gave a halfhearted wag that betrayed her uncertainty over how to think of him. ''But I've never wagged my tail at ''all'' in his presence before,'' part of her reflected. ''In fact, have I ''ever'' wagged my tail before?''

"Good morning, Amber," Zeiss greeted her, interrupting her thought. "Feeling better, I hope?" Karen shrugged noncommittally and turned her face back to the window. She studied her faint reflection in the glass, ignoring the world beyond it. ''What am I feeling now?'' she asked herself silently. ''Do I hate him? He did this to me deliberately! What should I do now?''

"Well, you still seem a bit unhappy about something to me," Zeiss interrupted again. "That's no good; I can't have you moping around the house all day like that. Since you liked your trip outside so much yesterday, how about we go for a little walkies?" Karen cocked her head at him and emitted an incredulous "erf?" Zeiss laughed and pulled a rolled-up leather leash out of his pants pocket. "Just to get out and about for a while, extend our territory a bit. Come, Amber." The commanding tone injected into the order left no doubt that he expected her to obey, so she set her introspection aside and rose to her feet. She waited with resigned patience while he clipped the leash to her collar, and then fell into step beside him at his clipped command to heel.

Zeiss led her out the front door this time, into the yard that Karen had so far only seen from the window. The overall reduction in size that she'd undergone so far was made quite apparent by how she had to trot to keep up with him, and how the short leash hardly angled upward at all leading from his hand to her neck. She estimated that she must be around four feet tall by this point next to his almost-six-feet. It acutely reminded her of how much she was at his mercy, and she found herself once again considering herself fortunate that he was kind to her. She put the thought out of her mind and focused on watching her surroundings.

It was fairly easy to do; with her enhanced senses and the amount of time she'd spent cooped up in the house, everything around her felt almost electric with interest. It was all she could do to keep from tugging on the leash as she tried to examine every shrub or rock they passed, even with the order to heel still fresh in her mind. But she managed to resist and keep up with Zeiss' steady pace as they walked out onto the road beyond the driveway. It was obvious that the house was fairly far from any city, although the narrow road was well-maintained. There were no signs of nearby neighbours either.

He took her only a short distance down the road, to Karen's disappointment, before turning off of the pavement and leading her through a simple wooden gate in the fence. Beyond the dense rows of trees behind the fence lay a large open field bordered by hedges, perhaps a disused horse pasture. The grass wasn't very tall, but it was wild and weedy underfoot; Karen was glad of the tough black pads that protected her soles. Zeiss stopped just inside the gate and undid Karen's leash, rolling it back up and putting it in his pocket while she watched him with puzzlement.

Then he withdrew his hand from his pocket and held up the bright red ball with an equally bright grin. Karen groaned inwardly, but the unaccustomed sense of freedom and anxiety from being in this marginally public space had left her so charged with nervous energy that she instantly tensed for the throw. Zeiss hurled the ball as hard as he could and Karen sprinted the entire length of the field to retrieve it for him.

The field was much larger than the fenced-in back yard of the house, and after only four chase-and-retrieves Karen was starting to pant vigorously again. She tried hard to be resentful of this treatment, but it was just no good; between the attention she had to devote to finding the ball in the grass and the sheer exhilaration of it all she barely had time to reflect on how fortunate she was not to have to carry it in her mouth. Even the provisional "yet" tacked onto the end of that thought couldn't bring her down from the high. Finally, Zeiss wound up for one last throw... and Karen was halfway down the field when she realized that it still hadn't landed anywhere in front of her. She turned in breathless confusion to see Zeiss still holding the ball with a huge grin on his face. He'd faked her out.

They both laughed aloud, and then Karen jogged back to him with her tail curled in amusement. He put the ball back in his pocket, took out the leash again, and reattached it. Her tail remained curled as she panted all the way home.

{{separator|j}}

The next morning, Karen was quite pleasantly surprised to discover that her body hadn't changed at all since the previous day. The thought that just ''maybe'' she wasn't going to change all the way into an animal was enough to keep her tail curled that day too, and on top of that good news Zeiss also gave her permission to go into the back yard whenever she wanted. "Just don't track mud or water in if it rains," he'd warned. "And don't leave the yard under any circumstances." He gave no indication that he noticed her lack of physical changes overnight, and Karen decided not to volunteer that information.

That day was also the first time Karen saw Zeiss doing any activity unrelated to her in any way; as she'd lain on the living room carpet watching the front yard that afternoon he'd come down and read a newspaper on the couch behind her. After reading the rest of the paper, he'd lingered intently on the business section and then made a brief phone call to an apparent stock broker with a few purchasing orders. Karen had watched it out of the corner of her eye with an intentness of her own; this was the first time she'd seen Zeiss do anything that made him seem like any other normal person. After he'd left, she'd sat on the floor and flipped through the discarded newspaper simply out of curiosity about what the man read.

The next day was another without further physical changes, and the same for the one after that. Karen knew Zeiss couldn't help but have noticed by now, but he still gave no reaction and she didn't want to risk eliciting one. He was letting his guard down more and more as the days had passed; that day he'd told her outright that he'd be out of the house for a few hours in the afternoon. He told her to heat up some leftover chicken from the fridge for him before he got back at six o'clock, and also to fix herself dinner at the same time. She did so, microwaving the leftovers as nicely as she could and pouring a helping of dog food into her dish.

Her mouth had watered copiously at the scent of the chicken she'd set on the table for Zeiss, but of course she couldn't eat any of his food unless he gave it to her. She was just a dog, after all.

Another week later things were still going quite smoothly. Her physical transformation had obviously stopped dead, and she had Zeiss exactly where she wanted him; he trusted her obedience almost completely. As the days passed he'd told her to do more and more household tasks; fixing simple meals, cleaning and tidying the house, even bringing him the telephone once when it had rung and his hands were full. He also seemed to grow quite comfortable with simply being around her, often working for hours in the living room on whatever it was he did while Karen lay curled up on the floor at his feet. He even allowed her up on the couch next to him a few times, reached over to idly scratch her ears or stroke her back while she watched and listened to what he was doing. Her life, she was beginning to secretly admit to herself, was actually pretty good here.

And then one morning, quite suddenly, her growing complacency was shattered by a totally trivial and unexpected accident. She was brushing out the fur on her neck, as she did during every morning's grooming, and the bristles of the brush caught her collar's buckle on the downstroke.

The end of the strap woven through the buckle was pulled slightly out of place.

Karen froze, brush held in mid-stroke down her chest, and stared at her collar in the bathroom mirror. The memories of how she had struggled and struggled to get that collar off in her first days at the house came flooding back, and of how the buckle had at the time refused to budge a millimeter no matter what she did. But now...? Setting the brush down on the edge of the sink, her hand shaking so much that she nearly knocked it onto the floor, Karen reached up and tried to undo the collar. Her claws made the buckle somewhat tricky to tease open, but even so it only took ten seconds.

Heart pounding like a jackhammer, she carefully removed the collar from her neck and stared at her reflection in the mirror. ''What's going on?'' she thought, ''How... why... and what's going to happen now? Am I going to change back? Am I finally free?'' Nothing seemed to be changing in the mirror, and she felt no obvious unusual sensations other than the urge to pant from the tension.

And also that for the first time in almost a month she felt totally naked.

''I've got to hurry,'' she suddenly realized. ''I have to make breakfast in half an hour. If I don't show up...'' her collar still clutched in one hand, she turned and hurried out of her room. She hesitated for a moment before going into the hallway, both out of fear that Zeiss would spot her as soon as she went out there and to cast last glance back at her sleeping basket. ''Perhaps if I put it back on I can choose a better time,'' the thought flashed through her mind. She almost went with that, despite not knowing if it'd ever come off this easily again, but then she heard Zeiss moving around upstairs somewhere and she knew she was at a make-or-break decision point if she wanted to escape. Her brain flipped a coin and she ran down the hallway towards the front door. Then Zeiss' footfalls also burst into a run upstairs and everything became a stress-induced blur.

The next thing she knew she was standing in the foyer facing Zeiss, who was standing in front of the doorway leading out. He was breathing hard from the run, but she was literally gasping for breath; the tension was nearly unbearable. ''He caught me,'' she thought frantically. ''Oh god oh no I did something really bad and he caught me I'm gonna get it now why did I ''do'' that!? Bad! Bad, bad!'' She began to cringe already at the mere thought of what might be coming, shying away from Zeiss with her tail tucked firmly down between her legs.

"Stay, Amber," Zeiss ordered as he caught his breath. "Stay." He recovered his composure quite rapidly, though he remained alert to any sudden moves she might make.

"How?" Karen finally panted, forcing the question out past the wall of fear in her mind.

"Hidden camera behind the mirror. I saw that you finally figured it out. Or part of it anyway."

"N-no... how... my collar?" She clenched the collar tighter in her hand. "It came off!"

Zeiss actually ''grinned''. "That's not your collar, Amber. Not ''the'' collar, the one that changed you."

"Not magical?" She rubbed her throat, thoughts whirling in a confused maelstrom. "Not..."

"Not for about two weeks now. Remember the first time we played fetch, Amber? You slept so soundly that night, all worn out... and then the next day, you hadn't changed much at all while you slept? I switched it for a nonmagical double that night. You were fast asleep, never noticed."

"Why?"

"I didn't want you to become a dog ''physically''. I could have just bought a real one for that. But I needed to make sure it had finished changing your ''mind'' enough that it'd stick. And it did. I've been testing you since then. You passed them all beautifully."

Karen felt as if the world was dropping out from under her. The two weeks since then, obeying Zeiss' every command without reservation, trusting him and earning his trust, and at every moment behaving as much as possible like a dog on two feet... they had all been purely her own actions. No magical coercion involved.

"You had plenty of chances to escape, Amber," Zeiss continued to speak in the background. "The very next day, I took you to an open field and let you run all the way to the end and back off your leash, remember? You've had free run of almost the entire property for weeks now... why didn't you leave at any point? You must have thought about it, once or twice..."

She barely heard him, but enough got through to resonate with her own questions. She had been resentful, was still resentful... but at the same time, she had been willing. Was still willing. Had the collar really permanently warped her mind as well as her body? How could she possibly tell any more?

Zeiss stepped aside from the front door, unlocking it and holding it open. "Go ahead," he said softly, watching her expression intently. "If you really want to. Consider it your final test, if you like... and make me proud."

With a yelp of anguish she turned and ran back the way she had come, slamming the door to her room behind her and lunging into the bathroom. She stared at the reflection in the mirror, vision blurred by tears but clear enough for her to plainly see the dog- woman that she had become. The image in the mirror matched the image of herself in her mind... almost.

Almost tenderly, Amber placed the collar back around her neck and fastened the buckle again. ''Now'' the image was complete, the person that she truly was. The leather strap was a very good copy of the first one, too good for her to see a difference, and the tag was probably the original; it had her name engraved on it, after all. And on the back, "Property of Zeiss."

True Reflection

2007-09-17T23:50:07Z

Martin Divo: New page: Category:Story Category:Martin Divo True Reflection By Martin Divo The carpet had a deep enough pile that sleeping on it was not entirely uncomfortable, and so it took Karen seve...

[[Category:Story]] [[Category:Martin Divo]]
True Reflection

By Martin Divo

The carpet had a deep enough pile that sleeping on it was not entirely uncomfortable, and so it took Karen several minutes from the point when she first began to regain consciousness to when she realized that something was wrong. Her eyes flew open at that point and she sat up, blinking in confusion as she looked around at where she was.

Someone's living room... a very large, richly-furnished living room, at that. She didn't recognize it, though, or remember falling asleep here. She didn't really remember falling asleep at all, for that matter; the last thing she could recall was being on her way home after work. And now she was here. Coughing nervously to clear her voice, she called out a cautious "hello?" She didn't see or hear anyone, and nobody responded to her call. ''Perhaps I should just leave, and figure out what's going on when I'm somewhere familiar...'' Climbing to her feet, using the couch she'd been sleeping in front of to prop herself up on, she looked around for the most likely exit.

She felt an odd band clinging around her neck at that point, and when she reached up to touch it her plan to depart was momentarily forgotten under a surge of surprise and concern. She felt a thick leather collar on her throat, complete with decorative metal studs and a ''tag'' hanging from the ring in front. "Okay, this is getting too weird," she grumbled as she tried to undo the buckle. She was still wearing all the clothing she'd had on when her memory ended, right down to her shoes, but who knew what else had been done to her? If someone could bring her to a strange house and put a collar on her without her notice...

Karen's heart began to hammer with fear, and her attempt to undo the buckle started turning desperate. ''Why won't it come ''off''?'' The strap seemed glued to itself, the collar fused into an inseparable loop. ''Dammit! I'll have to cut this thing off when I get home.'' The fingers of one hand still hooked around the side of the collar, she picked a door and headed for it. She was halfway when she suddenly heard a faint high-pitched whistle that sent a strange shiver down her spine. She hesitated at the sound, turning to look for the source.

There was a man standing in the door behind her, one which a moment earlier had been closed. He was dressed in a dark but comfortable-looking casual suit, and he held a small silver whistle to his lips. Karen fought the urge to flee in terror, staring at him in the hopes that she'd recognize him from somewhere. But she drew a blank. He looked about thirty years old, with brown hair and plain features that could belong to any average joe.

"I don't think you should go out just yet, Amber," the man said calmly.

"My name's Karen," Karen snapped, and then grimaced as she realized she shouldn't have given out her name like that. "Who are you, and where am I?"

The man smiled, and ignored her question. "Amber's the name on your tag," he countered, "and I think it suits you better. I chose it for you, after all."

Karen flushed angrily, and yanked her hand away from the collar. "Look here, mister mysterious. I don't know how I got here, but I'm damned well ''leaving''."

The man's smile didn't waver. "I thought you might feel that way. I'll just have to teach you otherwise. Sit!" The man's firm command caught Karen by surprise, but that was nothing compared to how surprising her own reaction to it was. Without a moment's hesitation her legs folded, and she sat down crosslegged on the carpet. She was so stunned by her unintended compliance that she remained sitting there for almost ten seconds before she tried to scramble back to her feet. "Stay!" The man's second command cut off her attempt before she even reached her knees, and Karen found that for some unknown reason she just ''couldn't''.

Karen's fear finally broke through to the surface, and she looked at the man with terror in her eyes. "What did you do to me?" she whimpered.

"Hey, it's okay, Amber. Don't be afraid." The man's tone was soothing, but it didn't help all that much. He walked into the room from the door, heading over to the couch Karen was sitting in front of and sitting down himself. Karen was literally trembling as he approached, but even with the force of her fear behind the desire to run away she simply couldn't bring herself to stand back up. Her legs weren't paralysed, she just couldn't make them do what she wanted them to do.

"The collar you're wearing is a magical artefact" the man began to explain, his voice as calm as if he were discussing something perfectly sane. "It's a collar of control, a relatively minor and common enchantment in its day. But, of course, very rare now. This whistle," he held the small silver whistle up, "imprinted it on me. That means you have to obey my commands. Have to. Don't bother fighting it, you might as well just go with the flow."

Karen shook her head in disbelief and denial. "You're crazy. Let me go, I promise I won't tell anyone, just... just let me go!"

"Come now, if I was going to do that would I have gone to all the trouble to bring you here in the first place?" The man leaned back in the couch and chuckled, grinning. "No, I'm not going to let you go. You're mine now, for as long as I want you. Be good and obey me willingly, and things will be easy. I'm sure you'll learn to love it here, Amber."

"People will notice I'm missing! ''Please''!"

The man sighed and shook his head. "I figured this might happen. The collar only forces your body to obey; I guess I'll have to let your heart follow on its own in due time." He stood back up. "Amber, heel!"

Karen leapt to her feet, suddenly able to command her legs to do so again... but found herself unable to carry out the second half of her desire and run away from this madman. "No! Oh god, please let me go!"

"Quiet!" The man snapped, and Karen suddenly found her voice silenced. She could only sniffle quietly and wipe tears from her eyes as the man walked out of the room into a hallway, and she followed closely behind him. She wanted to run, she wanted to punch and kick and scream... but meekly following felt totally natural, and that was all she could bring herself to do.

The man brought her to a small, windowless bedroom and led her inside. "Very nice. At least the obedience part works as it should. Okay, Amber, this will be your room for now; there's a bathroom through that door over there and I'll bring you some food a bit later. I'll leave you to get comfortable here, and calm down a bit. Stay!" Backing out of the room, the man closed the door behind him. Karen heard the lock click, and then the sound of the man walking away. Tears welling in her eyes and blurring her vision, Karen stumbled over to a small chair and sat shakily. She still couldn't make a sound, but at least she was free to move around again... within the confines of this room, of course.

It took Karen a while to pull herself back together again, although her watch was missing so she didn't know exactly how long. Eventually, though, she was collected enough to look around and start thinking seriously about her situation.

She was in the hands of a madman... but at least one with the comfort of his prisoner in mind. The room was quite nice, furnished simply but richly. The bed looked very comfortable, but Karen couldn't bring herself to lie down on it despite a wave of fatigue from the stress she'd been under. The attached bathroom was also small but good quality, with only a toilet, sink, and mirror. No razors in the drawers, of course... Karen returned to the bedroom again and paced restlessly, trying to work out what to do.

Escape, of course, or at least call for help. But how to get through the door? It was just an ordinary wooden door, she realized. Flimsy. She could probably smash it down with the chair, perhaps quickly enough that the man wouldn't get here in time... But no, she realized, she ''couldn't''. As much as it galled and terrified her to admit it, she was prevented from even trying to turn the doorknob by the man's firm instruction to stay here. He might as well have not even locked it, though in a way she was glad that he had at least allowed her that illusion. Or perhaps he simply wasn't sure if the command alone would be enough.

Karen angrily yanked on the collar, frustrated beyond words even if she hadn't already been ordered not to speak. It didn't feel uncomfortable or tight, though it wasn't loose enough to slide up or down her neck very far, but it was so damned ''restrictive'' in every other sense! Normally Karen wouldn't have given the slightest credibility to anything described as a "magical artefact," but given the evidence she couldn't imagine any more reasonable explanation. Opening the door may be trivial, but in order to escape she first had to get this thing off.

Examining it in the bathroom mirror was no help; the buckle looked completely normal, but was nonetheless frozen solidly shut. She did discover one interesting thing in the process, though. After becoming annoyed with looking at the name "Amber" engraved in her tag hanging underneath, she'd turned the tag over and discovered that "Property of Zeiss" was engraved on the back. An alias, perhaps, but at least now she had a name with which she could label the man behind all of this. She just wished it didn't say "property of," that was even more demeaning than a new name being forced un her like this...

Upset by her failure and the writing on her tag, Karen returned to pacing. She'd searched the room from top to bottom three times now and found nothing useful, and then had carefully tidied everything back the way it had been for lack of anything better to do. She was now both worn out from stress ''and'' bored. Sighing, she sat down on the floor and leaned her back against the side of the bed. After staring at the wall for a few minutes, she lay down on her side. Perhaps a quick nap would help, she thought wearily, and squirmed a little as she tried to get comfortable. She didn't feel quite right, somehow...

The thought that perhaps sleeping ''on'' the bed rather than on the carpet beside it again didn't occur to her. Instead, she unbuttoned her blouse and then removed her bra. That wasn't quite enough, though, so she took off her jeans too. "Hmmm," she sighed in relief, and curled up at the foot of the bed. She felt much more comfortable now. Within minutes, she had dozed off.

<hr/>

Karen snapped awake again at the sound of the lock turning. Sitting up, confused but instantly alert, she looked at the door and sniffed the air. She caught a whiff of something delicious even before the door opened to reveal Zeiss bearing a tray. Her mouth watered, and for a moment all that crossed her mind was that she was hungry, and happy he'd brought her something to eat.

Then, quite abruptly, she realized that she was totally naked. With a strangled, startled yelp she snatched up her discarded blouse and held it tightly against her chest as she scooted away from him to hide behind the bed. She was torn between total embarrassment and sheer terror; how would this madman react to a naked female captive?

He laughed. "Oh, Amber, there's no need to be shy. You look quite beautiful, I assure you." Karen tried to say something in response, but since she still hadn't been given leave to speak all that came out was another whimper. Zeiss laughed again. "This is fascinating... absolutely fascinating. Come on over here, Amber, let me see you... Come!"

She couldn't stop herself from approaching Zeiss once the command was given, but Karen remained crouched down with the blouse hugged tightly to her chest in a desperate attempt to maintain her modesty. He reached down and patted her condescendingly on the top of her head as she huddled at his feet, and then ordered "Give." Miserably, she handed over the blouse she'd been clutching. She just hoped he wouldn't order her to stand up, too...

Zeiss looked her over, examining her body in a manner that was both clinical and admiring. "Well now," he said once finished, "Looks like we may be experiencing some side effects, hm? The texts weren't entirely clear on how this collar would affect a human, just that it ''could''. Looks like obedience to commands isn't the only behavior it's imposing." Setting the tray of food down on the small table by the chair, Zeiss quickly picked up the rest of the clothing Karen had thoughtlessly shed before dozing off. He tossed them out the door, and Karen could only look mournfully after them. She was beginning to realize what Zeiss meant, and the concept horrified her.

Zeiss stood silently for a moment, looking down at Karen's crouched form thoughtfully, and then headed out the door himself. "Let's try a little experiment, shall we?" He closed the door, and Karen heard the lock click shut again. She didn't move until she was sure he'd walked away again, though, at which point she put her face in her hands and shuddered.

Dog collar. It kept running through her mind, over and over. The collar was obviously meant for dogs, and only dogs; it made dogs behave like obedient dogs. Made ''her'' behave like an obedient dog... ''No! I'll ''not'' act like an animal for him!'' she beat her fists firmly against the sides of her head, and forced herself to stand up straight and tall despite her nakedness. ''I am not an animal. I'm human.''

Her stomach growled, and she sniffed the air again. ''Hungry human,'' she amended, looking at the tray he'd brought in. The plate had a stake on it, thankfully well-cooked, and a serving of mashed potatoes; a very hearty meal. She definitely wanted it, and licked her lips in anticipation.

But she couldn't eat it. Something was holding her back; some nagging concern... ''Oh god,'' she thought numbly. ''It's on a table. That's why I can't...'' Sinking to sit heavily on the floor again, Karen stared at the food on the table for many long minutes. She just couldn't bring herself to touch it, as much as she wanted to.

Until, finally, Zeiss returned. He didn't say a word, he just took the plate off of the table and placed it on the floor. Then he left, and Karen stared at it for several more long minutes trying to hold herself ''back''. But in the end, she couldn't really do that either. When Zeiss finally came back to pick up the plate, she had licked it completely clean.

"Good girl," he murmured with a lopsided grin. Karen just curled tighter where she lay, on her side in the far corner of the room, trying to hide her shame within herself. Zeiss left her to work out her thoughts on her own.

<hr/>

For the next few days the situation didn't develop into anything much worse than that, though it was certainly bad enough that Karen retreated into denial for a while. Zeiss didn't bring her any replacement clothes, not that Karen would have been able to wear them for any length of time anyway. Dogs did not wear clothes. Nor did they eat food on tables using utensils, drink from glasses, or sleep in beds unless explicitly permitted to curl up on top of the covers. Zeiss didn't permit her to, of course, instead putting a large padded dog basket in her room for her to sleep in. He left the bed there too, though, perhaps to test the strength of the collar's conditioning or perhaps simply because it was too much bother to remove.

The only thing Karen was thankful for, and she was ''very'' thankful for it, was that nothing seemed to stop her from using the toilet or walking around normally like the human she was. It was all that allowed her to keep her self image as such, and left her with a kernel of hope that she might yet manage to get out of this bizarre hell. She was very careful to keep her hygiene up, too, washing herself every day in the sink and keeping her hair as tidy as possible. It was all she could do to maintain her dignity.

It was while she was washing up on the seventh day of her captivity, however, that she discovered something which very nearly drove her over the edge of despair completely. In hindsight she realized it must have begun earlier, and only gradually progressed until she noticed it now, but... she was starting to change into a dog ''physically'', too. Her nails were thicker and darker than usual. The tips of her ears were pointed, and fringed with a slight fuzz of hair growth. The tip of her nose was slightly upturned, her canine teeth seemed a bit longer than they had been before, and her irises were larger than they used to be. Their color was changing too, from her normal dark brown to a lighter, yellower... amber.

Zeiss must have heard her sobbing, since it was nowhere near time for her daily meal when he came into her room. He'd been leaving her alone for the most part, only coming in to test his control over her a couple of times in the past week and only for short periods; Karen had ended up spending most of the time lying in her basket or doing mild aerobics to keep in shape. It had left her genuinely puzzled over his motives in keeping her here, though it was clear he must be fairly far over the edge in ''some'' way to be doing it.

This time, he seemed downright sympathetic and tender. He had sat down next to Karen's bed and gently stroked her head; she'd shuddered in revulsion at his touch at first, but eventually the canine elements in her psyche began to respond and she slowly calmed down. Finally, she uncurled and looked pleadingly into Zeiss's eyes.

His expression was inscrutable. He must have been able to see the changes in her face by now, but he gave no indication; perhaps he'd already noticed some time earlier. But instead of saying anything to her about it, he simply told her "Speak."

It was the first time he had given her leave to talk since the first day, and at for a moment she had no idea what to say. "I don't want to be an animal," she mumbled at last. "I want to go home."

Resting his hand reassuringly on her shoulder. "It's okay, Amber. You ''are'' home."

Squeezing her eyes shut against the tears, Karen whimpered "Please. My name is Karen. I live at 121 Maple Street. I don't want to forget..."

"You won't," Zeiss murmured reassuringly, petting the back of her head again. "I've been doing some more research, now that I know what to look for. And I am certain that you ''will'' be happy here. Just go with the flow, as I have always told you."

"Why? Why are you doing this to me?"

"You'll find out. Eventually, you'll understand."

Zeiss continued to stroke her head for a few more minutes, until finally Karen couldn't bear how good it felt any longer. "Go away," she told him softly, and without another word he stood and left. Karen stayed curled in her basket, emotionally drained, and didn't realize that he'd left her with her voice back until almost an hour later. She was starting to recover by then anyways, and that cinched it. She stood back up and walked over into the bathroom again.

"Subtle changes," she muttered to herself as she stared at her reflection. "Subtle changes... but I'm watching. I know it's happening." It was an oddly reassuring thought.

<hr/>

The physical changes began to abandon subtlety shortly thereafter, as if perhaps sensing it was no longer relevant; within two more days Karen had developed a soft fuzz of a pelt over her entire body and the skin on the tip of her nose had begun to turn dark and leathery. On the one hand it was horrifying to see it happen, but on the other at least Karen was beginning to feel a little more comfortable with her nakedness. The downside was that she could no longer sweat, and she discontinued the aerobics routine she'd developed to pass the time. Panting kept her cool easily enough, but she just didn't like the image it projected.

Karen had already become quite thoroughly confused about her self-image by that point, and the thickening coat of fur certainly didn't help matters. She acted so much like a dog under the influence of the collar, and now she was starting to ''look'' like one too, that she was beginning to wonder if it might be easier to think of herself as an animal rather than a human now. She continued to resist that, though, and kept reminding herself that she'd only been here for ten days so far. She didn't want to crack just yet, there were still too many unknowns about what Zeiss had planned for her.

But soon the boredom started getting to her, leaving her pacing incessantly or spending hours endlessly running her fingers over her body to explore the alterations happening to it. Zeiss finally seemed to notice she was going over the edge, or at least the ''wrong'' edge according to whatever plans he might have for her. He came to her again the next morning, after she had finished her habitual grooming in the bathroom, and asked how she was doing. Karen didn't answer at first, wondering whether he knew he'd left her with he ability to talk still and not wanting to tip her hand, but then Zeiss added "Would you like me to let you out of this room for a little while?"

"Yes! Yes yes, oh please, just a little," Karen pleaded excitedly. In the back of her mind she grimaced at herself, at the eager tone and lack of self-control; she was sure that if she had had a tail it'd be wagging at this point. Thank god for small mercies.

Zeiss chuckled at her response and reached over to ruffle Karen's hair; she shied away, and he didn't force the issue. "Alright, Amber, let's go for a little walk. Heel." Falling in behind him as he walked out the door, Karen wondered if this was really a good idea. But she didn't have a choice in the matter at this point anyways, and if nothing else she really ''did'' want to see someplace different for a change.

Zeiss took her on a short tour of part of the house, including the living room where she'd first awakened. Karen followed with nervous excitement and trepidation, wondering if she'd run into anyone else around the place. She knew it was unlikely Zeiss would let her see anyone that could rescue her, of course, and in her current condition the embarrassment would be unbearable...

They finally stopped back at the living room again, and Zeiss watched Karen for a minute thoughtfully as she stood next to him. She was curious and alert, sniffing the air incessantly and looking around the room, but remained firmly by his side. "Alright, you can stay in this room for an hour," he said at last. "I'm going to go run an errand. Don't leave this room, and be a good girl. Show me I can trust you."

Karen blinked at him in surprise, then nodded cautiously. Zeiss turned and left the room, closing the door behind him. ''Okay... what do I do now?'' Karen looked around the room again. She couldn't use any of the furniture, her collar would prevent such behavior, but she didn't feel like sitting down just yet. This was the most promising thing to happen to her so far! She set about exploring the room thoroughly, rifling through drawers looking for anything that might contain useful information.

There wasn't all that much. A few books lying around, some old newspapers, nothing to tell her the address of the large house or the true identity of her captor. The view out the window wasn't much help either, the yard outside was large and surrounded by tall trees and fences. She could be practically anywhere.

The thought of leaving the room did occur to her, of course, and she wasn't entirely certain the collar would prevent her from doing so in this case; Zeiss hadn't used the word "stay", and the collar had so far seemed to be tuned to traditional canine commands like that. But eventually she decided against it. For all she knew Zeiss was waiting just outside to see if she'd try that, and if she proved trustworthy ''now'' his guard would be down ''later''. The room explored and the decision made, Karen stretched out on the plush carpet and turned on the TV to wait. She turned to the news channel, wondering if perhaps her disappearance had been noted, and spent the rest of her hour watching attentively.

Zeiss came back an hour later, as promised. Karen turned off the TV with the remote, but remained stretched out on the carpet where she was and watched him as he briefly surveyed the room. She'd been careful to put everything back exactly where it had been, and evidently nothing seemed out of place to Zeiss. He smiled down at her. "Good ''girl'', Amber!" he praised. Karen grimaced; that had been the reaction she'd hoped for, but nonetheless it still grated a little. She hoped her expression wasn't too apparent through the short fur on her face.

Zeiss took her back down to her room again right afterwards, but promised her he'd let her out for a while again soon. Karen looked forward to it; if this became a regular thing, she'd no doubt soon have more information and better opportunities to make a break for it. She just had to keep playing along, acting the role of the faithful pet above and beyond what the collar itself was forcing on her. She resolved to swallow her pride from this point on to accomplish that end, and only hoped that there would ''be'' an opportunity resulting from that sacrifice. She had no idea how long she could keep it up, otherwise...

<hr/>

Zeiss' treatment of Karen began to change almost as much as her appearance over the next week. Soon he was regularly giving her the run of the house's main floor for hours on end, letting her wander around unsupervised after giving her careful instructions not to touch telephones or go beyond her boundaries. Karen continued to comply willingly, expecting that at this rate she'd have her perfect opportunity any day now.

She just hoped she'd be recognizably human when that time came. Her pelt had finished growing out into a thick, soft coat of light brown fur; it was a slightly darker shade of her own original hair color, though that original hair had been replaced by the fur by this point too. Her nails had developed into blunt black claws, her ears were fully erect triangles that twitched reflexively to catch sounds, and her lower face was beginning to thrust outwards into a short muzzle. Black leathery pads covered the palms of her hands and the soles of her feet. She'd even sprouted a tail stub from the base of her spine, an addition to her physiology that felt as much a part of her as her fingers were.

On the twentieth day of her captivity, Zeiss took Karen outside into the back yard for the first time. The sensory stimuli nearly overwhelmed her initially; the scents and sounds were especially intense to her new nose and ears. Zeiss gave her a while to get used to it, sitting quietly on a deck chair while she blinked and sniffed. Then, once she was accustomed to it, he cleared his throat to catch her attention.

"Would you like to play a little game, Amber?"

Karen pondered the question for a moment, and then nodded warily. "Okay, I guess."

Zeiss grinned. "Excellent. It's very, very simple." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a large red rubber ball. Karen felt a sudden sinking sensation as she realized what game he had in mind.

"Fetch!" Karen sprang into motion, a surge of excitement rushing through her and blotting out the moment's reluctance. ''Chase chase chase chase... there!'' Pouncing on the ball, Karen scooped it up in her hands and sprinted back up the yard to Zeiss. She handed it to him, panting slightly from the exertion. "Good girl, Amber! Now... fetch!" He threw it again, and again Karen couldn't stop herself from bounding instantly after it. She quickly lost count of exactly how many times the cycle repeated. It was hard to think about it much under the circumstances.

Finally, after dropping the ball into Zeiss' hands for the umpteenth time, he relented. "Good job, Amber. Take a break." Karen collapsed to the ground in relief, stretching out on her belly in the cool grass and panting heavily. Her tongue lolled out between her lower canines, longer and broader than used to be, and she couldn't spare the breath to lick up the drops of saliva that fell to the ground from its tip. She was exhausted.

She was also exhilarated. She had felt totally ''alive'', thrilled to simply run and run and run while chasing a stupid rubber ball. She felt too good to even be disturbed by that fact; it was enough right now simply to accept it. Then Zeiss leaned over in his chair and began scratching her lightly on the back of her neck, right behind her ear, and she found it blissful to simply accept that too. Sensing no resistance on her part, Zeiss kept up the scratching. He slowly increased his efforts into a full backrub, scratching her all the way down her spine to the base of her tail, and with only a slight nudge to prompt her Karen rolled over onto her side and let Zeiss rub her belly. He chuckled out loud when Karen's leg started twitching reflexively in true canine fashion.

Through the warm, murky haze of pleasure, Karen could only sigh in contentment and think to herself that she had got him to totally trust her now. It was a good feeling, knowing that.

<hr/>

Karen vaguely remembered Zeiss carrying her totally relaxed body back inside and laying her down gently on the floor back in her room. She had rolled onto her back and displayed her belly invitingly to him again with a somewhat goofy smile spread across her muzzle; he'd looked down at her thoughtfully, stroking his chin, and then had finally knelt down to give her a final scratch behind her ear.

She had licked his hand. She had actually ''licked'' his hand at that point! Karen shook her head in horrified amazement at the memory; what had possibly come over her? She hadn't been ''ordered'' to, and although the collar had forced canine mannerisms on her it surely couldn't force her to ''like'' them...

He may have come to trust her, but ''she'' had also come to trust ''him'' in some strange and twisted way. Karen climbed to her feet and patted down her ruffled fur, the pleasant memory of all that rubbing still fresh in her mind. "What am I thinking? What am I ''feeling?''" she mumbled in confusion. She wandered over into her bathroom, toe-claws ticking lightly on the tile floor, and stared into her reflection as if searching her face for an answer.

Her face was a dog's face. It was still human in general outline but all the canine features were fully developed now. And dogs love their masters, of course... Karen shuddered, turning away. ''The man may have shown me kindness but remember that he ''did'' kidnap me,'' she reminded herself. He forced me into this. He put this damned collar on me. He's responsible for turning me into this ''animal.''

Her perspective restored, at least for the moment, Karen turned back to the mirror and examined herself again. She could almost swear the physical changes had progressed significantly even in the short time she'd been awake that day; her tail was over a foot long now, and she herself was almost a full foot shorter than she had been before. Her fingers seemed shorter too, a little stubbier, and she began to dread the day her hands were no better than paws. Would she be reduced to walking on all fours, too? Was she going to lose her voice for good, perhaps even her mind as well?

Karen retreated back to her room and sat on her haunches in the corner, hugging her knees to her chest and whimpering slightly. She felt no closer to escaping, if anything the chance seemed more and more distant, and her time had almost run out...

She was composed again when Zeiss returned a few hours later, curled up in her bed and resting off the remainder of her exhaustion from the run. He brought a bowl of food; Karen could tell from the scent that it was dog food, the stuff he'd started feeding her a few days back. She hardly even protested or hesitated at the time, she recalled miserably. In fact, she'd been pleased with how easy it was to eat directly from the dish compared to most human foods. "Thought you'd like to build your energy back up," he told her. "And here, for your effort." He set a milkbone down beside the food bowl. Karen just stared at it and drooped a little in dejection.

Zeiss noticed her reaction. "What's the matter, Amber? You don't like being given a treat?" he asked with mild surprise.

Karen couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not, but took it at face value and shook her head slightly. "It's not that... I, I... it smells good..." tears welled up in her eyes, and her voice momentarily choked off in a despairing whine. "I had fun!" she wailed. She hated to admit it to Zeiss, of all people, but she had to tell it to someone.

He didn't respond, at least not in words. Instead he stroked and petted the fur down her back, gently scratched her behind the ears, and when she began to lean into him he hugged her head to his chest and she buried her nose in his scent. Despite herself, it felt calming and wonderful; she had soon sobbed herself dry. Once her breathing had become slow and regular, he carefully disengaged from her and stood back up. Karen remained sitting on the floor, leaning wearily on her hands to support herself. "I'm... sorry," she sniffled quietly.

"It's okay, I think I understand," Zeiss assured her. "But I know you can handle it. You're a good girl, Amber. Now, why don't you eat a bit? You'll feel better on a full stomach."

"Later," she mumbled. "Soon. Please, just... I need to think."

Zeiss nodded and withdrew from the room, closing the door behind him. Karen just sat and stared dully at the milk bone, her mind whirling with the same pair of thoughts over and over. ''He can make me behave like a dog but he can't make me like it,'' was one. The other, much more reluctantly admitted but just as fundamentally true as far as she could see; ''I did enjoy myself out there. I did like it...''

She just couldn't face the logical conclusion of those two facts, not yet at any rate. Zeiss was right; she needed to fill her stomach. It'd take her mind off of things for a little while, if nothing else. Crouching over the food dish on her hands and knees, Karen lowered her head and methodically ate the entire serving. Afterward, she munched up the milkbone as well. It was delicious.

<hr/>

Karen slept very soundly that night, despite the intensely troubling thoughts she went to bed with. When she woke up late the next morning she felt fully recharged again; she stood and stretched, then shook herself vigorously and walked over to the bathroom for her morning grooming.

She didn't wash much any more, without sweat glands her fur didn't get dirty as rapidly as her skin and hair used to, but brushing her coat to a fine gloss more than made up for that hole in her schedule. She took the opportunity to do a full self- examination to see what changes the collar had wrought during the night, as she did each morning, and this time she found that the results of her survey were almost encouraging. She hadn't changed quite as much as she'd feared, based on how quickly she'd been changing during the day.

Her tail had passed the two-foot-long mark, as she had kind of expected; comparing its proportions to the rest of her body suggested that it was just about done growing now anyways. The light brown fur had sprouted especially thick and long on it, and she brushed it thoroughly; she found herself thinking it made a passable substitute for the long hair she'd originally had on her head. She wanted it to look nice.

The rest of her body had also undergone alterations, but it was all a matter of incremental degree; her fingers just a bit stubbier, her muzzle just a bit longer, her ears a bit higher and her overall height a big shorter. Her breasts had become greatly reduced in profile lately, but despite her fears still managed to hang on; in fact, as she ran her claws through the fur on her belly, she discovered that they'd been joined by four new ones. The extra nipples that had appeared a few days back, hidden under the fur, had small but definite swellings under them. They'd developed more nerve endings too, she noted with interest as her exploring fingertips sent a pleasant tingle through her gut.

Karen sighed, and sat down in the corner of the room by her bed. Now that her head was clearer and the emotions distanced a bit she needed to do some more thinking. She was slipping into acceptance, she admitted to herself; she must have subconsciously decided that there was no escape, that she should make the best of her situation as it was. But what could she do about it? She didn't want to suddenly start making things as difficult as she could at every step; not only would it make Zeiss raise his guard again after letting it slowly drop so far, but if Zeiss decided to throw the hardball back at her he could make her life ''extremely'' difficult. As things were, he was being kind and generous to her. Caring, even.

''He kidnapped you,'' she berated herself abruptly with a shake of her head. ''Kidnapped you, kidnapped you, kidnapped you. It is not 'caring' simply to be nice about it.'' Still, she couldn't shake that feeling despite intellectually knowing better. The man had her completely within his power, but not once had he forced himself on her or forced her to do anything truly unpleasant. Other than making her act like a dog all the time, of course, but that was the collar's fault and not his...

Unable to get her feelings about Zeiss' behavior straightened out in her mind, Karen finally decided to see if he was in the house at the moment. Perhaps seeing him would help. Leaving her room, to which she had not been confined at all for many days now, she padded quietly through the hallways looking for him. She heard him moving around upstairs, but upon realizing that he was in one of the rooms to which she was still forbidden access she decided to wait for him in the living room.

The living room had become her favorite room in the house, despite the bad memories associated with waking up there back when she'd first been kidnapped... so long ago now, it seemed, though it was really still no more than a month back. She could watch TV there when he was out of the house or gave her specific permission, though she didn't do so very often any more; it seemed somehow pointless to try to keep up with what was going on in the outside world. She couldn't get out there, after all. It was more relaxing and of more immediate relevance to instead lie on the floor in front of the picture window, curled or outstretched as the mood suited her, and watch the front yard for activity.

She'd never spotted another human, though recently she'd startled herself by barking vigorously at birds or other small animals that came into view. Yet another embarrassing but irresistible canine urge that she'd been forced to quickly accept, and fortunately Zeiss hadn't been bothered by it yet. He seemed to find it amusing, in fact. She settled down in front of the window to wait.

Eventually Zeiss came downstairs and entered the room to find her lying in her usual spot. He smiled at her, and her tail gave a halfhearted wag that betrayed her uncertainty over how to think of him. ''But I've never wagged my tail at ''all'' in his presence before,'' part of her reflected. ''In fact, have I ''ever'' wagged my tail before?''

"Good morning, Amber," Zeiss greeted her, interrupting her thought. "Feeling better, I hope?" Karen shrugged noncommittally and turned her face back to the window. She studied her faint reflection in the glass, ignoring the world beyond it. ''What am I feeling now?'' she asked herself silently. ''Do I hate him? He did this to me deliberately! What should I do now?''

"Well, you still seem a bit unhappy about something to me," Zeiss interrupted again. "That's no good; I can't have you moping around the house all day like that. Since you liked your trip outside so much yesterday, how about we go for a little walkies?" Karen cocked her head at him and emitted an incredulous "erf?" Zeiss laughed and pulled a rolled-up leather leash out of his pants pocket. "Just to get out and about for a while, extend our territory a bit. Come, Amber." The commanding tone injected into the order left no doubt that he expected her to obey, so she set her introspection aside and rose to her feet. She waited with resigned patience while he clipped the leash to her collar, and then fell into step beside him at his clipped command to heel.

Zeiss led her out the front door this time, into the yard that Karen had so far only seen from the window. The overall reduction in size that she'd undergone so far was made quite apparent by how she had to trot to keep up with him, and how the short leash hardly angled upward at all leading from his hand to her neck. She estimated that she must be around four feet tall by this point next to his almost-six-feet. It acutely reminded her of how much she was at his mercy, and she found herself once again considering herself fortunate that he was kind to her. She put the thought out of her mind and focused on watching her surroundings.

It was fairly easy to do; with her enhanced senses and the amount of time she'd spent cooped up in the house, everything around her felt almost electric with interest. It was all she could do to keep from tugging on the leash as she tried to examine every shrub or rock they passed, even with the order to heel still fresh in her mind. But she managed to resist and keep up with Zeiss' steady pace as they walked out onto the road beyond the driveway. It was obvious that the house was fairly far from any city, although the narrow road was well-maintained. There were no signs of nearby neighbours either.

He took her only a short distance down the road, to Karen's disappointment, before turning off of the pavement and leading her through a simple wooden gate in the fence. Beyond the dense rows of trees behind the fence lay a large open field bordered by hedges, perhaps a disused horse pasture. The grass wasn't very tall, but it was wild and weedy underfoot; Karen was glad of the tough black pads that protected her soles. Zeiss stopped just inside the gate and undid Karen's leash, rolling it back up and putting it in his pocket while she watched him with puzzlement.

Then he withdrew his hand from his pocket and held up the bright red ball with an equally bright grin. Karen groaned inwardly, but the unaccustomed sense of freedom and anxiety from being in this marginally public space had left her so charged with nervous energy that she instantly tensed for the throw. Zeiss hurled the ball as hard as he could and Karen sprinted the entire length of the field to retrieve it for him.

The field was much larger than the fenced-in back yard of the house, and after only four chase-and-retrieves Karen was starting to pant vigorously again. She tried hard to be resentful of this treatment, but it was just no good; between the attention she had to devote to finding the ball in the grass and the sheer exhilaration of it all she barely had time to reflect on how fortunate she was not to have to carry it in her mouth. Even the provisional "yet" tacked onto the end of that thought couldn't bring her down from the high. Finally, Zeiss wound up for one last throw... and Karen was halfway down the field when she realized that it still hadn't landed anywhere in front of her. She turned in breathless confusion to see Zeiss still holding the ball with a huge grin on his face. He'd faked her out.

They both laughed aloud, and then Karen jogged back to him with her tail curled in amusement. He put the ball back in his pocket, took out the leash again, and reattached it. Her tail remained curled as she panted all the way home.

<hr/>

The next morning, Karen was quite pleasantly surprised to discover that her body hadn't changed at all since the previous day. The thought that just ''maybe'' she wasn't going to change all the way into an animal was enough to keep her tail curled that day too, and on top of that good news Zeiss also gave her permission to go into the back yard whenever she wanted. "Just don't track mud or water in if it rains," he'd warned. "And don't leave the yard under any circumstances." He gave no indication that he noticed her lack of physical changes overnight, and Karen decided not to volunteer that information.

That day was also the first time Karen saw Zeiss doing any activity unrelated to her in any way; as she'd lain on the living room carpet watching the front yard that afternoon he'd come down and read a newspaper on the couch behind her. After reading the rest of the paper, he'd lingered intently on the business section and then made a brief phone call to an apparent stock broker with a few purchasing orders. Karen had watched it out of the corner of her eye with an intentness of her own; this was the first time she'd seen Zeiss do anything that made him seem like any other normal person. After he'd left, she'd sat on the floor and flipped through the discarded newspaper simply out of curiosity about what the man read.

The next day was another without further physical changes, and the same for the one after that. Karen knew Zeiss couldn't help but have noticed by now, but he still gave no reaction and she didn't want to risk eliciting one. He was letting his guard down more and more as the days had passed; that day he'd told her outright that he'd be out of the house for a few hours in the afternoon. He told her to heat up some leftover chicken from the fridge for him before he got back at six o'clock, and also to fix herself dinner at the same time. She did so, microwaving the leftovers as nicely as she could and pouring a helping of dog food into her dish.

Her mouth had watered copiously at the scent of the chicken she'd set on the table for Zeiss, but of course she couldn't eat any of his food unless he gave it to her. She was just a dog, after all.

Another week later things were still going quite smoothly. Her physical transformation had obviously stopped dead, and she had Zeiss exactly where she wanted him; he trusted her obedience almost completely. As the days passed he'd told her to do more and more household tasks; fixing simple meals, cleaning and tidying the house, even bringing him the telephone once when it had rung and his hands were full. He also seemed to grow quite comfortable with simply being around her, often working for hours in the living room on whatever it was he did while Karen lay curled up on the floor at his feet. He even allowed her up on the couch next to him a few times, reached over to idly scratch her ears or stroke her back while she watched and listened to what he was doing. Her life, she was beginning to secretly admit to herself, was actually pretty good here.

And then one morning, quite suddenly, her growing complacency was shattered by a totally trivial and unexpected accident. She was brushing out the fur on her neck, as she did during every morning's grooming, and the bristles of the brush caught her collar's buckle on the downstroke.

The end of the strap woven through the buckle was pulled slightly out of place.

Karen froze, brush held in mid-stroke down her chest, and stared at her collar in the bathroom mirror. The memories of how she had struggled and struggled to get that collar off in her first days at the house came flooding back, and of how the buckle had at the time refused to budge a millimeter no matter what she did. But now...? Setting the brush down on the edge of the sink, her hand shaking so much that she nearly knocked it onto the floor, Karen reached up and tried to undo the collar. Her claws made the buckle somewhat tricky to tease open, but even so it only took ten seconds.

Heart pounding like a jackhammer, she carefully removed the collar from her neck and stared at her reflection in the mirror. ''What's going on?'' she thought, ''How... why... and what's going to happen now? Am I going to change back? Am I finally free?'' Nothing seemed to be changing in the mirror, and she felt no obvious unusual sensations other than the urge to pant from the tension.

And also that for the first time in almost a month she felt totally naked.

''I've got to hurry,'' she suddenly realized. ''I have to make breakfast in half an hour. If I don't show up...'' her collar still clutched in one hand, she turned and hurried out of her room. She hesitated for a moment before going into the hallway, both out of fear that Zeiss would spot her as soon as she went out there and to cast last glance back at her sleeping basket. ''Perhaps if I put it back on I can choose a better time,'' the thought flashed through her mind. She almost went with that, despite not knowing if it'd ever come off this easily again, but then she heard Zeiss moving around upstairs somewhere and she knew she was at a make-or-break decision point if she wanted to escape. Her brain flipped a coin and she ran down the hallway towards the front door. Then Zeiss' footfalls also burst into a run upstairs and everything became a stress-induced blur.

The next thing she knew she was standing in the foyer facing Zeiss, who was standing in front of the doorway leading out. He was breathing hard from the run, but she was literally gasping for breath; the tension was nearly unbearable. ''He caught me,'' she thought frantically. ''Oh god oh no I did something really bad and he caught me I'm gonna get it now why did I ''do'' that!? Bad! Bad, bad!'' She began to cringe already at the mere thought of what might be coming, shying away from Zeiss with her tail tucked firmly down between her legs.

"Stay, Amber," Zeiss ordered as he caught his breath. "Stay." He recovered his composure quite rapidly, though he remained alert to any sudden moves she might make.

"How?" Karen finally panted, forcing the question out past the wall of fear in her mind.

"Hidden camera behind the mirror. I saw that you finally figured it out. Or part of it anyway."

"N-no... how... my collar?" She clenched the collar tighter in her hand. "It came off!"

Zeiss actually ''grinned''. "That's not your collar, Amber. Not ''the'' collar, the one that changed you."

"Not magical?" She rubbed her throat, thoughts whirling in a confused maelstrom. "Not..."

"Not for about two weeks now. Remember the first time we played fetch, Amber? You slept so soundly that night, all worn out... and then the next day, you hadn't changed much at all while you slept? I switched it for a nonmagical double that night. You were fast asleep, never noticed."

"Why?"

"I didn't want you to become a dog ''physically''. I could have just bought a real one for that. But I needed to make sure it had finished changing your ''mind'' enough that it'd stick. And it did. I've been testing you since then. You passed them all beautifully."

Karen felt as if the world was dropping out from under her. The two weeks since then, obeying Zeiss' every command without reservation, trusting him and earning his trust, and at every moment behaving as much as possible like a dog on two feet... they had all been purely her own actions. No magical coercion involved.

"You had plenty of chances to escape, Amber," Zeiss continued to speak in the background. "The very next day, I took you to an open field and let you run all the way to the end and back off your leash, remember? You've had free run of almost the entire property for weeks now... why didn't you leave at any point? You must have thought about it, once or twice..."

She barely heard him, but enough got through to resonate with her own questions. She had been resentful, was still resentful... but at the same time, she had been willing. Was still willing. Had the collar really permanently warped her mind as well as her body? How could she possibly tell any more?

Zeiss stepped aside from the front door, unlocking it and holding it open. "Go ahead," he said softly, watching her expression intently. "If you really want to. Consider it your final test, if you like... and make me proud."

With a yelp of anguish she turned and ran back the way she had come, slamming the door to her room behind her and lunging into the bathroom. She stared at the reflection in the mirror, vision blurred by tears but clear enough for her to plainly see the dog- woman that she had become. The image in the mirror matched the image of herself in her mind... almost.

Almost tenderly, Amber placed the collar back around her neck and fastened the buckle again. ''Now'' the image was complete, the person that she truly was. The leather strap was a very good copy of the first one, too good for her to see a difference, and the tag was probably the original; it had her name engraved on it, after all. And on the back, "Property of Zeiss."

User:Martin Divo

2007-09-17T23:47:39Z

Martin Divo: starting a user page

Haven't written a lot and most of what I've written isn't worth showing. But a few are so I'll put them here.

[[True Reflection]]