“Hey Donna,” called Rowan.  “Got a repeat customer for you.  Room four.”  She held out a slip of paper.

“She’s Duncan, not Donna,” protested Kelly as Duncan glanced over the slip.

Rowan glanced over Duncan’s feminine, snake-based body.  “Right, sorry.  So where’s Donna?”

Duncan paused for a moment to find her other half.  “She’s currently Gwen’s bra.  Probably going to spend most of the night that way, lucky girl.”

“Lucky?” asked Kelly.  “How so?”

Duncan smiled, her gaze distant.  “Stuck as clothing can be very nice.  I’d gladly trade places with her, but my wife wouldn’t approve.”

Kelly stared at Duncan openly.  “You like being stuck too?”

“Yeah, with the right people.  And an escape clause.”

Rowan snorted.  When Kelly and Duncan turned to look at her, she just pointed toward the door between the Blue Vixen and the Crimson Kitten.  Duncan took the hint, and Kelly tagged along behind her.  “Are you going to follow me all night?”

“Until you kick me out.”

Duncan snorted much as Rowan had.  “The club welcomes everyone.  Until you mess with the dancers or staff, anyway.”

Kelly grinned.  “So I can stay?”

“Stay out of trouble.  No, that’s probably asking too much.  Open minded, now...”  Duncan pushed open the door to one of the Crimson Kitten’s private rooms, and slithered in.

A woman was sitting at the table, a broad box and a bright red pair of pumps in front of her.

“Martin or Marie?” asked Duncan.

“Martin.  Marie doesn’t work Sundays.”

Duncan nodded to the shoes.  “Had enough, yet?”

“She’d had enough by the second day.  I spent most of the last month swapped with her, except on Sundays.  I still love her feet, but being shoes... eh.”

“And has her attitude improved any?”

Martin opened the box.  “About bloody time,” groused Marie.  “Are you really going to leave me stuck as goddamn shoes?”

“With that attitude, she should,” commented Kelly.  “Haven’t you learned anything?”

Duncan smiled.  “Good point.  Tell me what you’ve learned.”

“Not to insult the person who controls whether or not I’m human.”

“Referring to Martin, or me?”

“Both,” came the reply from the box.

Duncan looked to Martin.  “Has she been nicer?”

“Less insulting.  And every time I give the body over to her, she’s... very thankful.  I wish... er, sorry.  Cancel that.  I would like some part of that to stay.  I like it when she’s grateful.”

“It’s a start.  What have you learned about being a woman?”

Martin shrugged her delicate shoulders.  “It has been eye opening to realize how often pretty women get ogled.  The crap she puts up with at work...”  Martin shuddered.  “I’d have decked her boss long ago.”

“Can’t,” grumbled Marie.  “I’d get fired.”

“You should go work somewhere else, then,” retorted Kelly.  “Don’t put up with that.”

“I need the money.”

“If it’s just about the money, you could dance here.  The bouncers will keep the guys from doing more than ogling.”

“Martin wouldn’t like that,” said Marie.

“Says who?  I’d love to watch... or be your stockings while you dance.”

“Sorry, what?  You’d be okay with me dancing naked for money?”

“Topless,” noted Duncan.  “Ray is particular about that, even though the local liquor laws allow otherwise.  Reminds him of his favourite place back in California.”

“And yes, I’d be okay with that,” said Martin.  “Especially if it led to the occasional private performance.”

“Oh, so you’d like it if I did a sexy striptease for you... wait, why am I asking that, of course you would.”

“And her eyes open,” commented Kelly.

“Hm, yes.  This would work better if you had eyes,” noted Duncan, and the shoes started to grow.  Before long, they were obviously feet, with legs building up from them.

Before long, Marie was sitting on the table, looking as she had before her ordeal.  She hopped up and hugged Duncan tightly.  “Thank you.  Can I stay human, please?”

“Hm.  I’d like to satisfy Martin’s wish for some kind of daily cause for gratitude.”

“And can I keep the box?” asked Martin.  “It worked really well for staying focussed on the papers.”

Duncan nodded.  “Sure.  We could use it as a focus...”

“And they could have a bunch of different bodies, and Martin gets to pick,” suggested Kelly.

“Oooh, can I get stockings as one of mine?” asked Martin.  “And maybe a mini version of me about six inches tall?”

“Of course.”

“Why would you want that?” asked Marie.

“Pedicures.  Can you imagine the level of detail I could manage for you?”

“Oooh.  So I guess I have to pick some non-human bodies?”

“And one to wake up as, yes.  If you want to add something to talk Martin into, that’s fine.  All the various things will be available to both of you.”

Marie giggled.  “I could be a little guy?  Hah, that’d be...  Um...  Can we have a little version of me added to the pile?  I just got this image of the two of us cuddling in an enormous bed, or using the sink as a hot tub...”

Figurines appeared on the table, as did a pair of stockings.  “Anything else?  Martin, if you wanted to pick the form Marie would wake up every morning, what would it be?”

“A cat.  But maybe more of a plush one, but still able to move and talk... softly.”

“And purr,” added Kelly.  “Got to be able to purr.”

Marie giggled softly.  “Oh!  I... can it be the one at home?  I saved one of my plushies from when I was a kid, and I always imagined...”

“Done,” said Duncan.  “Anything else?”

Marie shot a smouldering look at her twin.  “I want him back to male... but maybe not until morning?”

“Done.  Martin will wake up in his old body.  Martin?”

“Um...  Maybe a, um... toy?  For the two of us to use?”

“You want to be able to turn me into a sex toy?” asked Marie, arching an eyebrow.

“I was thinking... me.  Though the idea of stealing your body and making you my toy appeals now that you’ve put it in my head.”

“Okay.  But no turning me into the stockings.”

“Fine.  How should I wear you if not as stockings?” asked Martin with a grin.  “A pretty blouse, a skirt, perhaps a cute little purse?”

“Oooh, that last one.  Especially if ...”  Marie blushed.

Duncan smirked.  “Done.  Have fun, you two.”

Martin scooped up the pile of things on the table, tucked what would fit into the purse, and took his wife’s hand.  “I think we will, at that.  It’ll be... interesting.”

As they left, Kelly watched them go.  “Wow.  I hope I find someone like that one day.”

“Willing to indulge your fantasies?” asked Duncan.

Kelly nodded.  “Got so many that need someone with just the right amount of wicked.”

“We could talk with Rowan, there are wicked fantasies on a regular basis.  Not a lot of girls keen on it, so...”

Kelly twisted her hands together.  “God, what would Dad think?”

“I thought you were trying to get a rise out of him.”

“Yeah, but...  A private show for some creepy guy?  Ugh.”

“How about a not-creepy woman?”

Kelly’s eyes lit up.  “You get those?”

Duncan nodded, and slithered toward the door.  “Once in a while.  And the full Moon brings out all sorts of people.  Let’s see what Rowan has on tap.”

Kelly followed along, and flicked through Rowan’s list of fantasies with a curious eye.  “Wow.  All kinds of singers and such.”

“Yeah, Vanessa mostly does the singers.  Quite often, she doesn’t even end up stripping, they just want personal attention from their favourite singer.  She also leads the choir.”

“You have a choir?” asked Kelly, puzzled.

Duncan chuckled softly.  “Sort of.  Sometimes she gets the girls to sing for me.  It helped a lot after Toronto.”

“So this place really is a church, then.  Dad joked about me being off to the ‘Church of the Moon Goddess’, but...”

Duncan shrugged.  “I healed dozens of people earlier tonight, and transformed that last couple to make them happier.  Between us, Gwen, and Ray, all kinds of fantasies will come true tonight.  So your father has a point.”

“Can I try out for the choir?  I don’t have much of a singing voice, but I bet you could change that.”

“If you liked.  Mostly it’s a matter of practice.  I’m not great at it, myself.  Hey, Vanessa!” Duncan waved to a woman who’d just entered the green room.

“What is Dolly Parton doing here?” gasped Kelly.

Vanessa chuckled warmly, and then shifted to her own voice.  “She’s about the only singer where they don’t ask for a bigger chest.  Kelly, right?”

Kelly nodded.

“She’s not really keen on the more carnal aspects of the work,” said Duncan.  “Perhaps you could show her some of the more fun stuff you do?”

“Not sure I need an assistant.”

“How about a prop?” asked Kelly, eyes alight with mischief.

Duncan grinned, and snapped her fingers.  A glittering microphone appeared in Vanessa’s hand.  “She’s stuck in that, and since it’s mostly magic, you have more than enough power to change it into whatever you need.  Have fun.”  She carefully guided Kelly’s inert body to a chair, and sat it down.

Vanessa twirled the object in her hands, and it turned into a sparkling headband.  “I’m sure we will.”