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|Xanadu story universe|
People ask us all the time how we survive in the anonymity of having no faces, no fingerprints, and barely anything that remains of what we would consider humanity. So many problems can be fixed with a will, and the services that have sprung up to assist the Xanadu refugees have been a help.
And people ask what's the thing that we miss the most, and that's different for each of us, because Manda was wearing a different Zentai costume to me, and clearly had a different image in her head. I miss people seeing my eyes the most. She misses her feet.
We had decided that we'd go to the Xanadu event a long time ago, and because our friend Sam had been to something similar last year and been caught on camera in the background of a news clip, endlessly repeated for a day, he was recognised by his work colleagues and they had made fun of him, we decided to go in something that would not show our faces. Manda had a leopard pattern lycra dance unitard from a theatre production a couple of years ago which she liked to wear, so we went on the internet together and bought a similar patterned zentai catsuit, one hundred percent coverage and thin enough to see clearly out of. She is brilliant at making costumes, and had all the stuff needed to make the high heel shoes part of the catsuit. She cut a hole in the foot at the right point to allow the heel through, and then glued the lycra to the shoe, and added a rubber sole to the bottom of the shoe. the effect was that apart from the steel high heel she was completely covered in leopard print. She looked fantastic when dressed up, and wore a black satin corset outside the suit to give her the feeling of tightness that she loved. Fortunately she doesn't pee too often, as the corset needed to come off and the suit come down to do so. She had always been a fan of form over function and the form was very pleasing to see.
I wish now I'd bought the shiny black 100% coverage suit that was also on the internet in my size, but I didn't, I'd chosen a flamboyant snakeskin print but instead of gloves it had mittens - I don't know why. I have never been a cross-dresser and putting it on for the first time was my first experience of the smoothness and slipperyness of a skintight hugging garment. I felt great, Manda thought I felt great, I thought she felt great and it was all rather lovely. I was concerned that my male member was too easily seen through the thin material, and entirely uncharacteristically Manda suggested I wear one of her black lycra skating skirts - it wasn't really odd as no-one would know it was me, and I had tried some of my shorts on, but none of them went with the outfit. I wore some black army boots on my feet.
Xanadu is a well publicised event, and suffice to say that we were involved in the chaos that immediately erupted when the magic shook the event.
I ran from the hall following Manda through the corridors until we were ourside, and away from the immediate danger. When we stopped running, in the dappled sunlight that streamed through the branches of the overhanging trees, and with the sounds of alarms in our ears we first took stock of the changes. Mandy seemed to have changed the most - the leopard print was now etched in a very short fur across her entire body, which must feel lovely if either of us were able to feel it properly. The material was no longer stretched across her face, she had eyes, a nose, human ears and a mouth, and looked exactly like Manda used to look except every part of her skin was now fur leopard print, including her eyelids and lips, and her eyes were those of a cat with vertical stripes. Her long once blonde hair was again hanging down her back, and every strand was the colours of the leopard-print, as if at the moment of change her blonde hair had imprinted a leopard pattern on it, and from the running the fibres had all mixed up. Looking further down she was clearly naked, her breasts unchanged in size but patterned the same, her corset still bound tightly around her waist. Her legs unchanged as well, but her feet were still in the shoes, except that they were not in the shoes at all, her feet were now shoe shaped and the heel still held her heels way above the ground. Almost all furry animals have pads of some kind to allow them to feel textures properly, thanks to millions of years of evolution, but this wasn't evolution, and her fingers had no such pads, the relentless leopard patterned fur extended over her entire body, from the soles of her feet to the scalp on her head - the only places where it did not cover being the high heels and her eyes.
I had not fared so well. Now that the participants understand why some poeple changed in some ways and others in other ways I now know that I did not have much of an idea of what I was in mind - other than the notion that I was quite snakelike and from what I had seen in the mirror. The lycra had become part of me, but I was not substantially changed. I could see and breathe through the material, I could talk through the material and I could see that my arms and hands were unchanged through the material. After a few seconds I asked Manda to unzip me, and that's where the problem began, because while it was obvious to Manda that she had changed, it was not obvious to me that the suit had become part of me - there was no zipper. Manda rubbed her furry hands over the suit where the zips used to meet at the nape of the next, I did too, there was simply no zipper.
I could see perfectly well through the material, and we just stood under the tree for a bit, checking each other and ourselves out. Manda discovered that she was effectively completely naked apart from the corset and asked me to untie it, which I did. There was not the usual relaxation when the knot was undone - and we discovered that she was now permenantly the shape the corset had pulled her into. There was no second skin for me to get out of, despite searching around.
Life has had to be adapted, and we are known around the township where we live as the Xanadu Couple - people have to call us something. The medical screening caught me in it's net as we were trying to leave, and I am grateful to them, as they identified that I would be unable to eat, drink or defecate without surgery. Adreneline had kept me going and I simply had not noticed. Manda and I were taken to a distant hospital where I was examined by a team of doctors, who recommended swift surgery - the most painful being the cut they made to my lips. The material was a part of me, a part of my skin and therefore a part of my nervous system, and as soon as they realised this they gave me an anasthetic. The lycra has grown painfully slowly inside my lips, my nostrils and my anus, but they decided to leave everything else as it is. When I pee it makes a big wet stain no matter what I do, and I have to wash every time, and drying takes ages.
The doctors have decided that my fingers are inseparable - looking at how slowly and poorly the lycra seems to heal, and from others who have a similar affliction they have decided that my thumbs and fingers make an adequate claw for me and the discomfort would be extreme as I heal too slowly. They can do nothing for my eyes - I can see out fine, but no one can see in - others cannot see my emotions, they see just a blank snakeskin patterned face with a mouth and nose.
Manda seems to be fine, although we are going to split up. She's still got her receptionists job although her days of track athletics and dinghy sailing are completely over thanks to the permanently attached heels. We both miss the more physical side of our relationship, and since I am effectively now unable to consummate our relationship, she's going to move out and find someone else.
I move on my own through the world - just because they can't see my eyes, doesn't mean I can't see them, and I can see that the eyes are the window to my soul. I live in a one way mirror, I can see out, but without others being able to see in, they stay away.