Monster's Night - Part 1

a

MAU story

by

clancy688

Susan entered the club's dance floor, grinning and even becoming a little bit aroused. She bathed in the other guests' stares, letting her hands roam over her body while she moved to the beat. All of them. All six.

This is the best thing ever! she thought, loving the sensations these six hands were giving her. I think I have to thank Martin for discovering this strange device again. And again!

Susan giggled. Martin had found the device two weeks ago, ironically right in this club, the X-Club. From time to time, he was enhancing his meager college student income by working for a moving company. Back then, they'd taken the job of carrying the furniture and stuff of a club which had formerly been located in another state to its new location over here.

There'd been rumors that the club actually was a money-laundering place for a drug-dealing biker-gang, led by the club's owner, and that he was moving town because the police was homing in on his former location. Susan was rather inclined to think that those rumors were exaggerations.

But when Martin and his team had off-loaded their cargo at the new club's location, the X-club's staff had suddenly realized that the new building didn't offer as much space for storing stuff as the old one. Therefore, the staff had begun sorting out unnecessary pieces which were to be discarded. Among these pieces, there'd also been a peculiar metal box with strange marks upon it. Michael had taken the thing for some reason unbeknownst, and then simply forgotten it in the trunk of his car.

Until he'd rediscovered it two days ago. When he'd inspected the shiny box in the apartment he shared with Susan and his fellow student Michael, he'd suddenly discovered its secret - it was some sort of magic box, it could spread out to phone-booth size! And not only that, it had turned out that the thing could actually transform your body! You just had to put your hand on some kind of ruby plate and think about the body you wanted to have, and then an image of it would appear on the plate's screen. Then you had to touch a purple knot on one of the booth's sides, to "open" a door. That is, by vanishing it! And if you stepped inside and touched a purple knot on the interior, the door would 'close' and the change would happen. It was a fool-proof system, and Susan couldn't stop grinning inwardly at Martin's excitement for this, quote, 'most ingenious human-machine interface ever designed'.  

So after they'd discovered what the machine could do, they'd started to have fun with it. First they'd changed into celebrities, movie stars and so on. Initially in their own gender, but then they had started to "cross over". It had been hilarious. Susan just couldn't get the image of Martin and her standing in front of their mirror out of her mind, she in the body of Richard Gere, Martin in the body of Julia Roberts in her slutty costume from Pretty Woman, both recreating the famous movie poster.

But then, they'd become more daring. And tried out strange changes. Martin had even become a dog once, and then, Susan had tried to procreate one of her fantasies. Having six arms. The experience had been incredible. She'd stepped out of the machine and raised her hands, first her upper pair, then her middle pair, and then her lowest pair. Unbelievingly, she'd moved all six hands' fingers, ecstatic at how easy it was. She'd immediately excused herself from her bemused roommates and started one of the longest masturbation session in the history of the human race.

But the experience had been somehow incomplete. She had wanted to be seen in her sexy, new body, with all those arms, and after a nearly hour-long discussion with Michael and Martin, who had thought of this being too risky, she'd gotten her way. She'd to compromise by transforming into a six-armed body which didn't look like her, but that was okay.

And it's great! she thought exhilarated. There is no risk! All those people simply think that I'm some sort of extremely cool birth defect.

This analysis was soon confirmed when one of the wide-eyed patrons managed to muster the courage to talk to her.

"Excuse me..." the young man said, looking at her in awe. "But... are those real?" he pointed to Susan's six arms.

"Are those real?" she purred. "Are you kidding me? Look for yourself!" grinning, she crossed her middle arm-pair, while she put her upper hands on his shoulders and her lower ones on his hips.

"Do those arms look fake?" she asked him and uncrossed her middle pair, moving one finger down his chest, and touching his chin softly with the other hand.

The young man watched breathlessly. "But... how can this be...?" he asked, and Susan smiled. "I've been born this way. I have very rare birth defect. But I like it. I can't even fathom how it would be not to have my six arms..."

Now other people began to crowd her, and Susan grinned, loving the attention the was receiving. Several people even took out their phones and began taking pictures, so Susan started to pose.

She didn't notice the bouncer who was eyeing the unnatural, six-armed figure, his brows furrowing in intent speculation.

"You're for real?" the impressive figure standing behind the large desk asked her opponent. She was heavily muscled, standing nearly seven feet tall, with an impressive bosom and short cropped blonde hair. She could easily have starred in any Amazon movie, depicting an awe-inspiring Amazon Queen. Her clothing was heavily ornamented leather of the kind bikers were wearing, with thick boots at her feet.

The other person in the room, this one a male, looked comparatively tiny compared to her, although he also had a stature which implied large physical strength, and stood over six feet tall as well.

"Until now it's only speculation, Boss." he said and shrugged. "But for me it's pretty damn conclusive. That-" he jabbed a finger at one of many monitors showing security footage from the club's floor where at the moment a six-armed figure was dancing "-is NO birth defect. There is no birth defect which would leave that kind of symmetry. No, I'd say, whoever that is, she's found something similar to our cursed box."

With a thump, the woman let her heavy body plunge into the chair. It croaked pitifully, but somehow decided not to snap under the Amazon's weight.

"Okay..." she said now after several seconds of silence. "I want that bitch to be tailed, I want to know where she's hiding the box, and then I want you to bring it to ME! You understand me, Dan? And don't make any mistakes either, because when you do, you'll wish that you've never been born!"

The man she'd addressed as Dan nodded courteously and exited the office. Stupid, damn bitch! he thought acidly. If Mark hadn't spotted the girl and told me about it, you wouldn't even have this chance, so go fuck yourself instead of issuing fucking threads which accomplish exactly nothing!

He grinned evily. Alex Morgan, head of the biker-gang Road-Devils, owner of X-Club and also chief of the largest drug-ring in the vicinity of 500 miles, was perhaps the most vicious bitch this side of the country, but certainly not the brightest. That was what she had her lieutenant Dan Sloane for. In fact, Alex was only the gang's figurehead, to impress the members with her impressive physical stature and vicious personality. You always needed an alpha male (or female, in this specific case) to keep such a pack of brainless muscle together. 

But all the gang's criminal businesses were actually managed by Dan. He was the grey eminence behind the biker gang's leader. If something went wrong, he could shuffle all the blame off onto Alex and either go into hiding or make a deal with the authorities, offering them Alex head on a silver platter - whatever option appeared to be more prudent then. 

The arrangement had downsides, of course. For the scheme to work, everybody, especially Alex and his gang members, had to believe that Alex was the boss, and not her second-in-command Dan. This was especially frustrating when Alex had one of her macho phases and decided to reprimand her subordinate for becoming uppity. Being scolded in front of all of his subordinates by his own marionette who was too fucking stupid to realize that she was a marionette wasn't something Dan could endure readily. More than once he had been really close at getting the stupid moron assassinated, but until now, sanity had prevailed in the end. Well, everything in life had downsides, he simply had to live with it. 

And there was another peculiar thing about Alex Morgan. Until two years ago, she had been a man. Until one of his gang's members had stumbled upon this damn transformation box. Alex had been exuberant, playing with the box' power. Why he'd actually transformed himself into a big-breasted Amazon goddess, nobody knew (and wasn't prepared to comment on, at least not when Alex was in hearing range). All that mattered was that the stupid fuck had transformed himself into a woman exactly at that moment when the box had decided to stop working. He'd thrown an epic rage for three days until even he, now she, had to realize that this wouldn't impress the box to work again. So she'd bitterly accepted the reality, tried to demolish the device and, when she'd failed in doing so, flung the thing into her cellar, to rot.

Which was still a better fate than that of at least a dozen other gang-members, mostly junior ones, who had been in the shapes of all sorts of sexy women when the box had stopped working. Of course, Alex, deeply grieving for her own fate, had understood their devastation upon the revelation that they'd be stuck in these bodies, probably for the rest of their lives. So, in her magnificent generosity, she'd made sure to provide all of them with a new life and a job. By creating a new brothel and using them as the main attraction.

That was the type of human Alex was. Dan himself wasn't a saint. And capable of utter ruthlessness, if necessary. Yet there were vicious streaks in Alex' personality which appalled even him. Unfortunately, she was currently the biggest game in town, so Dan had to make do. Well, nobody had ever promised that life would be fair and easy.

So now his boss had the prospect of becoming a man again? Good for her. Or him. And if Dan managed to provide the tools for this, he'd raise enormously in her trust. And perhaps she'd be less prone to temper tantrums, something Alex had developed after the transformation episode. The second possibility, Dan decided, had a certain appeal. Whistling he walked down the hall. Now only to acquire the transformation device...  


"Hey."

"Hm?" agent D asked and looked up from the magazine he was studying. His partner, Agent C, was looking on his computer's monitor.

"Brace yourself." he said, grinning. "I think our awesome web crawler finally got something."

D raised an eyebrow. "You're shitting me. That thing is USELESS, I tell you!" he threw his hands up in exasperation. "It's supposed to look for 'abnormal' human images, humans with three breasts and so on. But get this: Every decent porn site has such images, and virtually all of them are photoshopped! So the first time we switched it on, we got half a million results in the first two seconds. And counting. And what decided ITD to do? Simply filter out all the porn-sites, that's what they did. Effectively shutting out half of the internet and something on the scale of 99,9999% of the sites where people WOULD post the crazy things they use a device for."

C endured his older colleagues rant unfazed. "You finished?" he asked and got a dark stare as a response.

"Good, because whatever the Crawler is not searching, it is still looking on Facebook. So now get this:"

He moved his monitor so that D, who suddenly looked thoughtful, could view it. And the image of a six-armed woman dancing in some club.

"I checked the image." C said. "There's a 95% chance that it is NOT, I say again, NOT, photoshopped. So this could be the real deal."

"And you've found this on Facebook?" D asked, still not fully convinced.

"Yep." C confirmed. "And it's not only one. There are at least four different accounts posting images of this girl. And all of them are texting that they've seen her in some club where she was dancing, apparently babbling about her 'birth defect'".

Crookedly C grinned at D. "You know that we keep a database of birth defects, to filter out possible false alarm. I checked. How many girls with six functioning arms are there on the planet, what do you think?"

"Zero, I guess?"

"You got it." C's grin was feral now. "What do you say, think we should pay this girl a visit?"


Susan opened the apartment door. She'd danced and conversed for hours, therefore she was tired now, but girl, that had been fun! Grinning, she removed her coat and stretched all six arms, four of which she had to keep close to her body on her way back since the coat had only two sleeves.

Admiringly, she eyed her six arms again, playing with all fingers, moving them differently - it was like a fairy-tale gone true! Silently she walked to her room, but after a couple of steps she realized that this caution wasn't necessary. Out of Michael's bedroom, she heard loud, rhythmic moaning, one male and one female voice.

Susan grinned. Those two rascals... she thought. I was wondering when they'd try this out. I wonder who the girl is. Michael? Or Martin? Well... I can ask them tomorrow...


Dan eyed the apartment house the girl had entered. Now he knew where she lived. The lights she'd powered on had even betrayed her exact apartment to him. So now there was only to decide when to get the device. Tomorrow before noon, he determined. Most of the people would be at work, and with a little luck the girl would be as well.

"Don't take your eyes off the entrance!" he told both of his goons who would keep watch from their car. "When she's leaving the building or when something, ANYTHING, unusual happens, PHONE me. You got it?"

Both guards nodded and he knocked the drivers shoulders. "Well then, good night."


D came back from the airport's administrative building, making a face. "Damn the governor to hell." he muttered. "The idiot took the government jet for his private holidays in the Rockies. My tax money at work... now there's nothing left to get us to the girl. First commercial flight won't fly before six a.m.."

Cursing, C punched his knuckles together. "Fuck! And I thought that maybe this time we could be fast enough to keep some poor people from getting stuck in whatever crazy form they turned themselves into."

"If it would be only that..." D added, and C eyed him warily.

"I know this tone. What do you mean?"

D sighed. "You know how I'm sometimes having a 'bad feeling' before we're traveling to a device's emergence?"

"Yeeees...?" C answered. "You mean, like this sophomore party three years ago in Colorado?"

"Yep... and the rat fuck in Puerto Rico when you were still green behind the ears."

C closed his eyes. "Oh, Lord. Please don't remind me of Puerto Rico. I'm still having nightmares. But you were saying? Please DON'T tell me now that you have your ominous feeling again?"

D shook his head. "I'm sorry. But I do. And it's more like Puerto Rico than like Colorado."

Exasperatedly, C eyed his colleague. "So you're saying that we should make use of the time we have until our flight leaves to, I don't know, perhaps visit the armory? Equip ourselves with a couple of 'force multipliers'?"

"Yes... yes, I think that would be a prudent action."

"Fabulous."

To this, D had nothing to add.


Susan stood in the kitchen, making coffee. Having six hands really helped her with the task, she reflected pleased. It was already past 11 a.m., for because of the exhausting night, she'd slept until an hour ago. Thanks to her occupation as a student, she could allow herself to take a day off now and then. Not that anyone would miss her between two hundred other students.

"Good morning, that's smelling nice." suddenly a female voice said and Susan turned, whistling appreciatively as she spotted the voice's owner. It was an absolute terrific looking woman, with large breasts, an hourglass figure, long blond hair and large, kissable lips. She was dressed in some kind of office outfit, a blouse which's upper buttons where open, revealing a perfect look on her round boobs, a short pencil skirt barely covering more than half of her thighs, dark stockings and five inch heels.

"Wow." Susan exclaimed. "You looking great... Michael, Martin?" she eyed the woman quizzical, who laughed now.

"Oh, I'm Martin." she said and began walking sexily towards Susan, heels clicking on the floor. "This is, apparently, one of Michael's fantasy, the hot secretary."

"Hmm..." Susan looked at Martin. "And, how is it?"

"How is what?" Martin asked.

"Oh, come on!" Susan laughed. "I've heard you tonight. Obviously you tried out sex as a woman. How is it, compared to a man?"

"Oh!" Martin's beautiful face became red and Susan giggled. "Well, you're right. At first it was strange, sleeping with my best friend, even when he's in the body of a woman, or even stranger, sleeping with my best friend when I have the body of a woman. But then... it was great! Totally different. And... I like a woman's orgasm more."

"Of course." Susan looked miffed. "There are more of them."

"There's that!" Martin laughed. "Well, we liked it, and so we're trying out more today."

"Speaking of which, where's Michael?" Susan asked.

"Oh, he's gone fetching rolls. And when he comes back, you have to leave the kitchen."

"Why is that?" Susan inquired and Martin laughed again.

Mischievously she looked at Susan. "Michael told me that once he's back he'd, quote, 'ravage my sexy body on the kitchen table, fucking my brains out'."

Both girls laughed, and would one of them have looked out of the window now, they'd have discovered two black vans with tinted windows entering the apartment building's parking space.


"Okay, let's go." Dan told his team and pulled his ski mask down. He was eyeing his team's members warily, nothing more than normal goons. They didn't even know what was going on and he feared that this operation would overstrain their tiny bird brains. They were more the kind of guys to send to a rogue drug dealer, delivering a message by breaking his bones. Not the ones you'd hire for retrieving an invaluable, magical device. On the other hand, they were the best he had currently available. As depressing as this was.

It's an imperfect world, Dan. he thought. Deal with it.


Both girls were still chatting when the front door disintegrated and Dan's shock team stormed through. The performance was, of course, pathetic compared to a professional SWAT team. But it was still overkill to overpower two surprised females.

Hm... there is the girl... and who is this? Dan asked himself, as he walked calmly amidst the wreckage, noticing his goons holding the six-armed woman and another, incredibly sexily and pleasingly clothed woman at gun point on the floor. Both ogled their assailants, shocked and totally unprepared for the sudden violence. Hm... that girl really IS hot. I wonder... is she a product of the device as well?

But then he spotted what he was looking for. In the living room, the large booth stood. Smiling, Dan walked towards it and then shrunk it. His goons gaped, but he ignored them and went to the terrified women.

"My Ladies, I'm sorry for all the excitement, but you have something which we want. Don't worry, we'll be gone soon."

He eyed the six-armed woman. "I'd like to let you change yourself back to normal before, but I'm afraid I can't do that. I really don't want to risk you doing stupid things while using the device, like giving you massive strength and trying to overpower us. Wouldn't work, of course, but it would be incredibly messy on the carpet. I hope you understand this, yes?"

Both girls looked at him shocked and fearfully and Dan smiled. "Oh, one last thing. Out of curiosity, where did you find it?"

"At... at X-Club!" the beautiful woman stammered and Dan stiffened.

"What did you say?" he asked sharply. "WHERE did you say did you find it?"

"At X-Club!" she repeated. "I was there, two weeks ago, the moving company, I was part of the team!"

Dan gestured the girl to go on. Well... so this nice butterfly was originally a man as well. Which means that my boss' isn't alone in his stupidity...

"And then they were sorting out old stuff, stuff they couldn't fit in anymore. This was part of it, and I took it!"

Dan stared at the terrified girl. That's preposterous... one part of his brain whispered. On the other hand, if this was really the device Alex had originally used two years ago, and those two had managed to reactivate it... his mind raced with the consequences. Then he made his decision.

"We take them with us!" he said and his goons grinned.

"Wha-" the six-armed girl managed to get out surprised before she, like her friend, was gagged and constrained. Then two of the guys put them over their shoulders and the team raced down the stairs towards the waiting vans.

Dan pulled his mobile phone out. "Stas? I need you to figure something out. You still know how the box looked the Boss had so much fun with two years ago? Yeah, exactly. Now go in the cellar and look for it..."


White-faced, Michael sat behind his steering wheel, numbly looking at the vans rolling down from the parking space. He'd just arrived and parked his car, had wanted to get out when suddenly those... criminals or whatever they were had come darting out of the building, apparently kidnapping Martin and Susan and taking the machine with them. Michael trembled. What should he do? Calling the police, obviously... but... what then? Susan and Martin were not in their own bodies. They were in fantasy bodies, which they had no identity for!
So there was only one choice. Michael swallowed. Relying on the police would create even more problems. But there was no alternative. He therefore put his car into gear and started following the vans in a safe distance, starting to dial on his phone.


"Just great." sceptically, Agent C eyed the battered pickup the guy from the rental car company had showed to his colleague. Normally, they would be taking a government vehicle, but today, Murphy's Law was having a field day. When their commercial plane had finally arrived after half an hour of delay and both agents had set out to cover the rest of the way via car, they had to discover that somewhere someone had entered a date wrongly, meaning that the car which should have been waiting for them would not arrive until tomorrow.

Therefore they had been forced to take a rental car. And as always in such instances, financial management had been a pain in the ass. If they had the sheer nerve to rent a car instead of using one of the government's own (which wasn't available, but that was of no concern to those bean-counters in financial management) they had to damn well take a cheap one.

They'd had neither the time, nor the inclintion to debate this imbecility, therefore they'd accepted it teeth-gnashingly. Which had probably been a mistake, C reflected now gloomily.

"Come on in!" D told him. "We're already running late."

C sighed. "I just hope this driving shitbox won't fall apart on the highway..."

"Oh, I don't think so..." D said, but there was uncertainty in his voice... "Anyway, why don't you do something useful instead of bitching and moaning?"

"And what SHOULD I do?" C asked, rolling his eyes.

"Just listen to the damn police radio, perhaps a six-armed woman is molesting men, who knows?"

C snorted. "Yeah, right." but then he dutifully unwrapped his portable radio.


Dan sat in the moving van, barely noticing the terrified, bound and gagged girls on the opposite seats. His goons, on the other hand, were busy making up for his indifference by covering the beautiful one with leering steers. His mind, on the other hand, was busy. Suddenly his phone vibrated, and he took it to his ear.

"Yes?" he asked. "So you've looked around...? And...? No trace of it...? Uh, yeah... No, don't worry, I just got it back... I think you better get the boss and send him, err, her, to the factory... Because I have a surprise for her."

Grinning, he eyed both women. "Who'd have thought this, you were actually telling the truth." Dan shook his head, amused. "Which is actually kind of bad for you. Because the transformation thing you were playing around with, you see, the thing is actually ours. Only that it wasn't working until recently. Until you stole it."

He looked at both of them without any trace of sympathy. "And I think the boss will be veeeery interested in how you managed this feat. And if he really, really wants to know something, he's pulling out all the stops. Without bothering for little details like the fact that you're women. Although..." he mused, while eyeing the busty one "...at least in your case, one could argue that, at least theoretically, you aren't."


"Hey, get this!" C said, one ear pressed against a headphone. "The local police is in a frenzy. Apparently, someone kidnapped two people in broad daylight. This is a hillbilly police, they are not used to such shit..."

D's stomach clamped together. There it was again, the bad feeling. Oh no... "You know where the abduction took place?" he asked C.

"Yes. Why?"

"Look for security cameras. Images. Something. To see who got abducted."

C stared at his colleague. "You're kidding, right? Your feeling again?"

"Wish I were..."

Muttering curses, C opened his laptop and logged into the wireless. "At least they have good cellphone coverage out here!" he murmured. A few clicks opened a top secret program used by government agencies to connect to all security cams which had internet access countrywide.

"Okay... please, let there be some cams I can access..." he prayed. "Bingo!"

D waited, patiently driving while C was browsing through the images.

"I'll be damned."

"You got something?" D asked.

"You bet. Look at this." C circled the laptop so that D could look on the screen. There he could see the standing image of a parking space, and in the middle of the picture two vans.  Several people where climbing in the van, apparently in haste, and two of them had constrained women on their shoulder. With one of these women not having one, but three pairs of hands bound together by plastic bands.

"I hate it when I'm right, you know?" D said, but C shook his head.

"That's not all. Look at that." he replied and jabbed a finger at a figure standing besides the van, pulling out a mobile phone with one hand and... holding a box under his other arm! A box both agents only knew to well.

"Shit!" D said heartily and this time, it was C who had nothing to add.


Michael was still following the people who had kidnapped his roommates. They'd changed vehicles in a parking garage ten minutes ago, and Michael had nearly lost them then and there. But this occurence had confirmed him in his decision to follow the criminals who had taken Susan and Martin hostage. Because otherwise, the police would still be looking for vans, instead for suburbans.  

Then abruptly, the suburbans swerved left, driving onto a side-road leading to an abandoned factory building. To not arouse attention, he passed the turnoff in normal speed, continued for a quarter mile and then parked his car. There he sat, pondering. What should he do now? Of course, calling the police and telling them where the kidnapper's hide was. But then? Wait until the police was here? No, he decided. He had to made sure that this was their final destination. And when the police would finally arrive, they wouldn't let him get even near the place. But he needed to be close, to have a chance to get the box back. Therefore...

Michael reached into his car's front shelf and pulled his Beretta out. He'd been in the army before he'd begun his life as a student, and he'd even done a combat tour in Iraq. Therefore he was sufficiently trained in gun-handling. He only kept the gun closeby for emergency situations, but if this didn't qualify, then what else?

He took his phone out again and began dialing for the police, describing where the kidnappers had taken Susan and Martin to. Then Michael assured the woman on the other hand of the line that he'd obediently wait for the cavalry to arrive, hung up, opened his door and stepped out. Tentatively, he started hiking through the woods towards the abandoned factory.


"Uh oh..." C muttered and looked over to D, taking off his headphones. "Now the shit's hitting the fan."

"Meaning what?" D asked.

"Meaning that one equally gutsy and insane guy apparently tracked the kidnappers to an abandoned factory just outside the town's outskirts. And informed the police."

D swore softly. "Jesus. These are criminals and they have a device. When the police storms the building and one of these buggers decides to get creative with it, there's going to be a bloodbath!"

C nodded, lips pressed firmly together. Such a thing had happened several years ago. They'd located a still active device an especially clever criminal had used to produce drugs. Unfortunately, the police had been a little faster in locating the new drug dealer than the agency. And even more unfortunately, additionally to being a notorious criminal, the drug dealer had also had an animal transformation fetish. Later on, the agents had found a camera tripod in his apartment, the memory containing photos of all kinds of animals the drug dealer apparently had used the machine to transform himself into. So when the SWAT team had been storming through his door, they'd had the misfortune of startling him during exactly the moment when he'd just transformed himself into a fully grown Siberian Tiger, jumping right into the charging officers. They'd pumped the beast-turned man with bullets, but a 500 lbs animal charged to the hilt with adrenaline isn't that easy to stop. Before he'd perished, he'd ripped out two officer's throats and injured three more, two of which had lost limbs in the savage and desperate attack. The scene of carnage C and D had stepped into then had been incredible. Bodies, parts of bodies, and the dead tiger on top, the walls riddled with bullets and sprayed with blood and gore - this wasn't something any of them needed to experience again. And since this incident, special instructions had been given to all agents in the field in case such a situation would arise again. Therefore, D took out his phone and began dialing.

"I need to talk to P." he said in a hard voice. "We're having a situation here. I need her to cancel an ongoing police deployment in..."


Nervously, Michael crouched on the little ridge in front of the abandoned factory. Except for the small access path, the factory was entirely surrounded by forest. By now, the sun was setting and there was still no sign of the damn police!

What the hell's those idiots keeping from doing their fucking job? Michael thought scathingly. Hell, I've phoned them hours ago. And still nothing...

He glowered at his phone. Which, quite unimpressed by its user's antics, kept showing the black, lifeless screen indicating an empty battery. And by now, the bad guys had gotten impressive reinforcements. Additionally to the half dozen or so men who had organized the kidnapping, now an entire pack of bikers had arrived. Thankfully, most of them were staying in the open, resting and chatting. But there'd still been several who had entered what looked like a former administrative building, led by a woman of impressive stature.

That had been nearly three hours ago. So by now he was getting more than antsy. At least he thought he'd figured out where they were keeping Susan and Martin - on the administrative building's last floor, there was apparently a large conference room or something similar. Over the time, he'd spotted movement there and now, with night approaching, there were lights being turned on. Best of all, there was a fire escape staircase leading up to the conference room, with its exit only a couple of dozen yards away from Michaels current position and the building being directly between it and most of the bikers. Therefore it would be absolutely no problem for Michael to climb up the stairs to the room's door unseen.

And there was another plus to the emergency staircase - the administrative building had some kind of side wings, stretching out rectangular from the main body and reaching out until they connected to large warehouses. That meant that everyone who wanted to follow them into the woods after an escape had to either walk around the entire complex - which would take up to 10 minutes - or needed to go through the administrative building. Therefore all those goons sitting in front of the complex wouldn't be able to cut off his escape route.

And that's what I'll do. he decided coldly, gripping his gun tighter. If the cops were too stupid to do their job properly, then he'd need to free his friends. Who knew what those animals were doing to them right now?

I'll wait until it's completely dark, shouldn't take more than half an hour. And then I'll try to get my friends back!

Unbeknownst to him, barely three hundred meters away from his position, two more grim-faced people eyed the complex.


Dan was standing in front of the large office which had once housed this factory's director and now had the dubious pleasure to have become Alex Morgan's drug-dealing-ring's main office. And he was not a happy man.

Members of their gang had discovered the abandoned factory several years ago, and when the police began crowding in on Alex' criminal enterprise in the other state, Dan had had the idea to simply change location and set up shop in a new town. Only this time by separating night club and drug-laboratory. Even if the lame excuse for a police in this state managed to get its lazy ass up and examined the X-Club, they wouldn't be able to find any law infractions - besides the criminally bad adulterated beer, that is.

So when the neat little smash-and-grab operation had escalated into a kidnapping, Dan had changed the plan on the fly and, instead of bringing the box directly to his boss, rather played safe than sorry and made for their secret lair. Of course, Alex had been immensely irritated. In fact, she'd been outright furious.

The asshole spent two fucking years as a bitch, one could have thought that another extra hour won't carry any weight! he thought scathingly. But of course it had been unacceptable for Alex. And she'd pissed and moaned and yelled and it wasn't until Dan's little revelation that this was actually Alex' box, mysteriously working again, that she'd stopped. And that she'd finally been able to change her female shape for his original male body again had done additional wonders to his mood.

Dan's plan of operation from thereon would've been grilling the girl, or transformed boy, however one wanted to regard her situation, for which trick she'd used in order to make the box work again.

Alex' plan of operation from thereon had been a little different. It had started with an joyous exclamation that he'd finally been reunited with his cock and therefore needed to properly celebrate occasion and ended with him dragging the busty girl in his office, raping her until he was tired. Which, considering that she had been the first girl he'd been able to ravage with his cock since two years, had taken quite some time. 

Dan was practically fuming. During the first minutes, he'd still heard the girl's screams through the door. But for the last 10 minutes, there'd been utter silence - besides Alex' grunting of course.

I don't care if this imbecile asshole is raping a stupid cunt, but what if she totally shuts in after the rape? Then we'll NEVER get to know the trick she used. If he'd at least had the decency of first probing her for information and THEN raping her, but no...

Then the door opened and Alex stepped out, now a mountain of man, certainly not less impressive than his female form. And this had been his birth form!

Nature had, Dan decided, definitely done something wrong when it had designed him. Too much muscle, too less brains.

"I had nearly forgotten how god it feels to ram your cock into a tight cunt!" Alex boomed and grinned. "I'm finished with her." he said and jabbed his thumb in direction of the door behind him. "You can get her and make her tell us what she did to reactivate the box."

"If she's still responding after you raped her, that is." Dan responded darkly, and Alex laughed.

"So what? If she doesn't want to talk, torture her. That'll make her sing."

Dan sighed. It would do no good to try to explain his boss why emotional scars inflicted by rape could even make those measures ineffectual. Instead, he hoped for the best and entered the office.

The girl was lying in a corner of the room, clutching her torn clothing and trying to cover her body which already began shining in the red and blue of recent bruises.

He silently examined the wreck of a woman, then took a blanket and went to her. "Here's something to cover yourself." he said and threw it over to her. "Now cover your body and then... we'll talk."

He made a step closer and suddenly, the woman's eyes sparkled with fire. "DON'T YOU DARE TO COME NEAR ME, YOU ANIMAL!" she screamed and Dan started smiling

Well, good. She's still there. If she'd gone silent, no chance. But a rape victim who's still alive, still kicking... that I can work with.


C and D lay on a ridge similar to that of Michael's. Both were sporting large binoculars and had changed their suits and ties for utilitarian khaki.

"What do you think?" D asked now, putting his binocular down.

"Well... I think we've evaded the bullet - so far." C replied. "No sign of any strange changes which would pose a problem for normal police operations."

D nodded. His partner was right. So far it was indeed looking as if they'd been lucky. After he'd informed his boss, P, of the evolving situation, she'd called the governor, whistling back the police assault on the abandoned factory. Of course the local police chief had been furious. Not only had he been ordered NOT to help two of his citizens in danger, no, the order had come from obviously somewhere out of the intelligence community - and yet nobody had had the slightest inclination to either tell him the reason WHY, or even tell him WHICH agency had issued the stop.

By now, he was livid, and P had informed D an hour ago that she would be able to restrain him for the rest of the day, but NOT for longer. Actually, she COULD restrain him, she had the power to do so, but if she'd overuse it, there'd be all kinds of nasty questions popping up. The last thing any agency of which's existence not even the President was informed of wanted.

Therefore the confirmation that this time there weren't any Siberian Tigers - or worse - running around should have been a relief. An endorsement that it would be possible to release the police from its leash and let it do its job. And yet...

Yet my feeling's getting worse... D thought gloomily. "Let's wait another hour to make sure, okay?" he asked his partner.

C wanted to reply with an approval, when suddenly he froze, pressing his binoculars to his face.

"What's happening?" D inquired while C muttered an obscenity.

"At nine o'clock, the administrative building, fire stairs." he added, and D took his own binoculars to his face. His face tightened as he saw a man with a gun climbing up the stairs, judging from his clothing probably NOT a member of the biker gang which had commandeered the compound.

"Dear Lord, that is a roommate of those two people who have been abducted!" D suddenly realized.

"WHAT?" C blurted out startled. "Are you sure?"

D nodded. "Very sure... I've looked at the victim's data on the laptop before we hiked up here, and there were photos of all three roommates. The photos of the other two didn't fit to the images of the girl which were actually taken captive, but that's be expected when they have been using the device. But this boy down there... that's him, all right."

"And what the hell is he DOING there?" C hissed.

"I guess he has decided to take justice into his own hands, since the police apparently failed to deploy..." D groaned. "He's trying to free his friends and, probably, get the device back."

"But that's INSANE!" C was baffled by so much chutzpah. Going in alone against up to 40 hardcore bikers. Yup, sounded like a fair fight.

"Who knows?" D whispered. "So far he's doing it clever. Taking the backdoor. If he somehow manages to silently knock out the guards - if there are any - he may pull it off without those clowns down there-" he jabbed a finger at the squatting bikers "realizing what's going on."

C gasped. "You're not serious! The chances are still incredibly slim."

"Yes, they are." D said calmly and stood up, taking out his weapon and cocking it. "And that's why we'll cover his back."

Now C could do nothing more than gaping.


Slowly, Michael peered up through the window. It was indeed some kind of old conference room. He looked around and couldn't believe his luck. There was no guard to be seen! And there was the transformation booth, standing right in front of the entrance!

Michael opened the door and stalked into the room, scanning for threats. Suddenly, he heard a muffle from the left and turned. His eyes became wide as he looked directly at Susan, sitting bound and gagged beneath one window. No wonder he hadn't seen her! She'd always been below the windows, shackled to a heater!

He put a finger to his lips and then began removing Susan's shackles.

"Damn." he muttered wryly "Why did you have to make yourself six-armed? That's tripling the time needed to free you!"

As soon as Susan's first arm-pair was unbound, she used it to remove the gag. "You should have heard my captors!" she said huskily. "They said practically the same about shackling me in the first place!"

Then her last bound fell, and Susan threw all six arms around Michael.

"Oh, Michael..." she cried. "You have no idea how relieved I'm to see you. I was SO scared!"  

"Dear, dear..." he comforted her. "I know, I know... but tell me, what do these guys want from you? And where's Martin? And where's the machine?"

Teary-eyed, Susan looked at him. "I don't know!" she sobbed. "They were saying that this was their machine. And somehow, they want Martin to explain how he activated it. That's why he isn't here. Their boss, I think, took him with him before. But he was still in his secretary body. The guy watched him like some piece of flesh!"

Again she sobbed. "I fear he's done... bad things to him... we have to find and help him!"

An icy trickly ran down Michael's spine as he contemplated his friends predicament. "We will!" he assured Susan, but inside, he wasn't so sure about what to do now... furiously, Michael kept thinking. He could escape with Susan, but then Martin would still be at the kidnapper's mercy. Then what could he...

All his thoughts became moot when suddenly the door opened one of the bikers came in. "Hey, freak!" he sneered. "Dan wants to see..." his speech abruptly stopped as he saw Michael and Susan crouching there. Understanding flashed in his eyes, and his hand darted inside his jacket. Unfortunately for him, Michael already had his gun drawn. And therefore managed to fire before the biker got his own weapon out.

The shots boomed loudly inside the abandoned building and the man's body flew back in a spray of blood, three crimson flowers blooming on his chest.

Michael darted to the door just in time to see another startled biker coming around the corner. Four more shots terminated this menace, but now all hell was breaking loose. More bikers began to appear around the corner and Michael again fired in their direction, but now they were starting to be cautious and this time, nobody was hit by his shots. Even worse, he was nearly out of ammo!

Counter-fire began to flow back and Michael looked desperately around, searching for a way out. Taking the stairs was out of the question now. They'd never be able to get down and cross over into the forest until the bikers would enter the conference room from which they'd have a perfect line of fire.

There has to be a way! he thought frantically and then his gaze fell upon the transformation booth. And suddenly, he had an idea.

Oh, my... he thought numbly. That's crazy. Absolutely crazy... but maybe, just maybe it works. And even if not, it should buy enough time for Susan to escape.

"Susan!" he shouted, bending his gun around the corner and firing his last shots. For a moment, the enemy fire faltered, and he used this pause to dart towards the machine. As soon as he was there, he touched the interface, concentrating hard on the body he wanted to change into.

"What? What are you doing there?" Susan cried, huddling in the corner near the fire stairs.

"I'll buy us time!" he shouted back. "I'll transform into something which will be able to keep them busy long enough for you to escape. And then I'll escape with the booth!"

Incomprehensible, Susan stared at Michael, but he was already focused again on the task at hand.

"He's out of ammo!" someone shouted outside on the floor. "Go get him!"

Shit, out of time. Michael thought as he heard boots lumbering down towards the conference room's doors. I hope to God that I got all the details right!

The booth's door disappeared and Michael darted into the machine.


As Michael had started touching the interface plate, the Gamalfi Corporation's Morphic Adaption Unit, Mark 5's quantum computer had begun analyzing the data which had been flowing over the user's mind link into its temporary memory.
The computer noted that this time, while the user had specified a sufficiently detailed outer shape, the desired target body was lacking important information regarding its physiology, metabolism and sensory capabilities. Therefore it began interpolating data. The Unit triggered its wireless access and started looking for clues in this world's primitive datanet. It took nearly 1.5 seconds for it to discover an essay about the user-specified form, providing most of the missing information.

Satisfied, the computer added this interpolated information to the data block containing the transformation's details and signaled readyness to proceed.