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The Gypsy Stone 5/5 [finally!, f, mast, magic, tra


All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
I cleaned this up a bit, so if you have this from some other source,
this may be a better copy. I didn't write this. Repost requests will
be cheerfully ignored. TG archivist, please grab this and repost at
will.

THE GYPSY STONE BY ROBIN DOUGLAS PART 5

***FLIGHT***
The open sky was an ugly bruised purple that cast a strange warm
light over the cloisters of the ruined monastery. Two figures stood in
the center of the overgrown grounds, surrounded by silent arches and
deep shadows. A short dark woman and a tall blonde girl were studying a
long written script on a yellow legal style tablet of paper.

The coal red eyes watched the scene curiously. "What were they up
to?" the creature thought through it's pain and confusion. Naomi had her
damned stone back, but she couldn't use it herself. And she would still
get only one clean wish out of this two-sexed one. What was she planning
with that wish? Walter-beast's devotion to Naomi was in direct conflict
with the deep feelings of resentment for being relegated to slave-beast
to this woman. He had constant flashbacks to the moment in his office at
the university when she had grasped the stone and said 'Now I wish you'd
be a good little slave and fly away...'

His reptilian head cocked itself to the side to get the couple into
better view. He jumped off of his cupola perch and glided to the top of
a broken column, straining to hear their voices. When he had tried to
land on Naomi-goddess's shoulder earlier she had rejected him. Now he
flew nervously from perch to perch trying to see what was happening.

". . . so that's the wish, dear." Naomi was saying with a voice that
dripped with calculated sincerity. "Do you think you can read it exactly
as I've written it? If it's read inaccurately it would be dangerous for
both of us."

The blonde said something softly that Walter-beast couldn't hear. Her
face was frowning. Maybe she didn't like what the goddess was saying to
her. If she threatened the goddess he was here to protect her. He
tensed, thinking about attack angles.

". . .it's a little confusing I said, Naomi." The girl said, raising
her voice. "You said you'd give me my wish, but there's nothing on this
paper that would make me fully female. I did what you wanted, it's not
my fault that jerk screwed it up. Please, please, pretty please."

"Practice the wish, Cat. If all goes well you'll get what you want.
Isn't it worth it? You saw that boy dance in the contest. You saw what
the stone can do."

The blonde looked at the goddess as if to say something but Walter-
beast relaxed as she read the paper over and mumbled the wish out loud.
She did that 5 more times, each time with increasing confidence and
clarity.

"You're ready, hold this stone and recite carefully at the count of
three. The timing of a wish this complex is very important. If you make
any wish but the one of the paper my pet watching us from the column
will deal with you."

Walter tensed again was the blonde girl looked up at him with a
nervous glance. He spread his wings threateningly and the girl shivered
and took the stone out of Naomi's hand.

The Goddess looked at her watch and started counting, "One, Two,
Three!"

Walter hurtled himself into the sky and circled as the blonde read
the paper, a faint glow of green in her right palm. He watched as the
sun disappeared in the western horizon in a blaze of reddish purple and
just as dramatically a soft green glow engulfed one of the archways
surrounding the cloisters.

***FOREVER***

Nick's room was lit by the warm light of the sun rising through his
east window. Julie could see the small collection of girls clothes hung
in his closet and the box of "Nick's" clothes neatly put away in boxes
on the shelf above. Nick's bed was empty. The pink bed cover was pulled
up over the sheets and pillows. The Quilters poster above his bed glowed
with color. Neatly folded over a chair by the bed was a bright pink
cotton bikini bottom and a tee-shirt emblazoned THE HIDEOUT.

Julie strolled over to the look over Nick's shoulder at the desk where
he sat. He was writing a letter. Then, in disgust, his delicate hands
crumpled the paper into a ball and tossed in the direction of the
wastepaper basket.

"Damn, I can't even hit the basket any more!" he growled in a sweet
voice. He figured the new body would take a little more compensating on
the next toss. He'd been playing basketball since he was a kid, he'd
adjust.

"What ya doin', Nick?" Julie asked her voluptuous brother.

"None of your business."

"You got home pretty late last night." Nick was silent.

"Did you get the stone back? Tell me what happened."

Nick turned around and faced his younger sister. There were tears in
his big blue eyes. "It's over, Julie. The stone is gone." he choked.
"I'm gonna be like this forever."

"Not forever, Nick." Julie replied sympathetically. "Just until you
die." Then she grinned and jumped back like she expected Nick to lunge
at her.

"It's not funny. It's not! You were born and raised a girl. You can
joke about it."

"OK, it's not funny. But it's not hopeless either. If the winner of
the wet tee-shirt contest wouldn't take the $50 for the stone it doesn't
mean we can't get it. I'll just call Rod and Barry and we'll go over and
convince this babe, whoever she is, to give up the stone for a few
minutes. That's all it would take. All you gotta do Nickie is tell me
who she is and I'll handle it. What kinda girl wins a wet tee-shirt
contest anyway?" Julie was getting worked up in defense of her
"brother". Her rosy cheeks we're flush with excitement. She looked so
hopeful, so determined. Nick hated to deflate her. "Well," she said,
"You've got to tell me for us to help you. Who is this wet tee-shirt
bimbo?"

"Julie. . ., I'm the wet tee-shirt bimbo."

Julie looked at her brother, shocked.

"I'm a guy, yet last night I was dancing half naked in front of a
hundred horny sleazeballs. Julie, I can't even dance and I won a wet
tee-shirt contest. The prizes are right over there."

As Julie looked through her brother's booty as Nick continued. "I
can't believe I did it! But the stone was one of the prizes and I had
the right equipment." Nick cupped the well shaped breasts under his
nightie.

"So you won the stone, where is it? And while I'm asking big brother,
what's this secret letter you're writing?"

Nick told Julie what he could about the events of the previous night.
The dance, winning the contest over the hardbody blonde ringer hired by
the Gypsy fortuneteller and the fight between Rod and Art. As Nick
related the details Julie was edging toward the wastebasket. As Nick
finished the story he suddenly realized what she was up to and dove to
push the basket away but she snatched the balled up wad of paper out of
the basket and scampered to the doorway where she was safely out of
Nicks range. She started to unwad the paper when she paused in thought.

"Nick, did anybody get any pictures?"

"I thought of that. It doesn't matter. . .wait, it does matter. If
Dad doesn't change me back then it matters a whole bunch. My God, I'll
be known as the topless slut of Watertown."

"Jeeze, Nick, that's tough. We'll have to think about what to do
about that one, but it isn't worth worrying about until we find out
someone's got pictures. There's still the fifty dollars."

"A hundred dollars. I won fifty last night. And a shopping spree at
the Quickshop."

"Well, I guess it's not all bad." Julie said reassuringly. She
straighten out the paper in her hand and started to read.

"Hey, that's private." Nick said moving towards her.

"Dear Dad," Julie started.

"Don't!"

"I hear from Mom that you're home now. I hope you had a nice trip."
Julie continued from the paper, "I'm having a great time in Ohio with
Aunt Marie and Uncle Frank. They're really treating me well. I'm making
lots of bucks at a Burger Best here in town, and Uncle Frank said it
would be OK if I stayed for a while longer.

I hate to miss you, but I'll be thinking about you every day. Give my
love to Nicole..."

Julie turned to Nick, "You'll never get away with this. You've got to

tell him. The sooner he knows, the better."

"He's my Dad, Julie. I'm his son. I can't be his daughter. I can't
play football as his daughter. I can't go hunting with him as his
daughter. He won't buy it."

"He loves you, Nick."

"He loves Nick."

"He loves me. I'm a girl. He can love you, too. You've got to tell
him and give him a little time to accept it. Boys are so dumb!" With
that Julie darted out into the hall. The called back into the room." If
you want me to go after that Gypsy with you, just holler."

**********

Nick sat down at the breakfast table across from his mother. Her
usual pert face as serious as she stared across her coffee.

"Here's a letter I want you to give to Dad when he gets home
tomorrow. It's from Nick, staying in Ohio."

"He can make the wish tomorrow, Nick. There's no need for this." his
mother stated quietly.

"There's not going to be a wish, Mom. The stone is gone."

"How could the stone be gone, Nick. You were going to get it last
night. Weren't you?"

"The stone was a prize in a wet tee-shirt contest, Mom. I thought I
could buy it from the winner. That's what I was going to do, really."

"But you didn't." Nicks Mother said with a serious look on her face.

"I didn't, because the Gypsy was there. And she sent this girl to
dance for her and win the stone, but the girl wasn't a girl and I won
instead. . ."

"You what?"

"I danced in the wet tee-shirt contest and won."

"Nicole, uh, Nick." Nick's Mother said in a hard voice.

"But I lost the stone when some giant bat stole it off my neck. . ."
Nick continued, "I guess this is all hard to believe."

Nick's mother paused, looking at the floor and shaking her tiny head
from side to side. Then she stopped and looked Nick straight in the
eyes. "I forgot to tell you, Art's mother called. She told me about the
HIDEOUT last night." she stated quietly, "You know what a gossip she is.
I can't believe my own child did a strip-tease on a stage and the whole
town knows about it."

Nick felt flush. "I. . .You see. . .It was for the stone. And it
wasn't a strip-tease, well... not exactly. The stone was a prize and the
Gypsy would have gotten it. I tried so hard. It was so embarrassing, but
I had to do it to try to get the stone. And I won it. I had it around my
neck and this . . .I mean the Gypsy stole it from me." Nick's pretty
face was bright red.

"It's hard for me to believe you danced in a wet t-shirt contest
young lady!" Tears welled up in Nick's mothers eyes, "It's all my fault.
You're just a boy, you don't know how to handle these things. I should
have wished to change you back when I had the chance. I don't know what
came over me. I'm really sorry, Nick. Can you ever forgive me?"

"Mom, I love you. It's not your fault."

"But it will be my fault if you go out in that tight tee-shirt
without a bra." His Mother said, brightly, trying to change the subject.

"I bought you one yesterday. Walking around with a bustline like that
could get painful without some support." Mrs. Burford got up from the
table to retrieve a purple sack. She pulled out a large beige bra and
held it out to Nick. "Put it on. With your figure you're going to need
it."

Nick took the big harness and studied it. A little white tag sewed
into the strap said it was a 36D. "You really think I should?"

"I'm not going to order you to, honey, but you really should. What
kind of reputation will you have after last night? This will protect
your modesty and be more comfortable, too. Just put it on and try it."

Nick pulled off the tee-shirt, letting the soft white globes fall
free in front of his mother. She helped him hook the bra and adjust the
shoulder straps until it was comfortable. He put the tee-shirt back on
and looked in the mirror. "OK, I'll wear it."

"I've got to go now."

"Your father will be home late tomorrow night. You should really tell
him everything."

"I can't, Mom. It's not the same now. I'm not the same. I need time
to understand, to get used to this. If I ever do."

"I feel so badly for you, Nick. I want to help. . ."

"There's nothing you can do. Please give Dad the letter. Tell him you
got it from me in the mail. I'll tell him when I'm ready. . .Please?"

Nick got up from the table and hugged his mother from behind. "It's
not your fault, Mom. I'll get used to it. I'll try." He left the house
and sighed loudly. He had a lot of thinking to do.

******

The weather had cooled and birds sang cheerfully to celebrate the end
of the heat. Fluffy clouds drifted over the sun occasionally,
increasing the cooling effect. Nick took a lung full of aromatic summer
air and watched as his full breasts straining against his light cotton
tee-shirt. He could only see the word "LIFE'S". The rest of the graphic
on the shirt "A BEACH" was hidden by his ample endowment.

As he headed down the street he thought about how it was all still so
new, so odd. A man across the street stopped mowing and watched Nick as
he walked by. 'You think I don't see you there leering at me?' thought
Nick. The man's eyes followed him until he turned the corner, then Nick
heard the lawnmower rev up and grind into gear.

Nick had lots to think about. He was a girl. People reacted to him as
a girl. Yet his past, his training, his experience was that of a boy. He
felt torn, confused. It was easy to ignore the feminine dilemma for a
few days, but a lifetime as a woman. The prospect was strange and
frightening.

Relationships had changed, too. Julie was OK. He felt closer to her
now than ever before, and his Mom seemed to open up to him more now. But
his Dad was lost. What would he think then his football player went out
for cheerleader? Nick wasn't sure he had the courage to tell his Dad
what had happened to him.

His friendships had changed, that was for sure. Already Art Sandusky
was jealous and Rod seemed a lot more interested in him than before. A
lot more! He thought about the kiss at the table in the HIDEOUT,
shivered and put it out of his mind. Too confusing!

Nick looked up. He was surrounded by the green space of Edgerton
Park. He'd walked all the way across town without realizing it or
sensing the passage of time. He sat on a park bench in front of the pond
and watched joggers plod around on an asphalt surface circling the
water. A group of children played at the edge of his vision. Boys
throwing a baseball, girls jumping rope and giggling every time someone
missed. He'd never jumped rope. He'd never giggled. He'd grown up
throwing the ball, hitting the ball, shooting the ball. He leaned back
on the wooden seat feeling the July sun warm his hair, putting all
thought out of his mind.

"Nicole."

Nick jumped. Only the hand on his shoulder held him on the park
bench.

"Daydreaming?" Rod Thomas's face was close to his, a gentle smile on
his lips.

"Oh. . .Rod. It's you."

"Ever play any basketball back in Ohio, Nicole?"

"A little." Nick said cautiously, thinking about his 19 point reserve
game for the Muskies last winter.

"Want to meet some guys?" Rod grabbed Nick's slim hand in his. Nick
felt the hard muscle of his fingers grip him gently as he tugged him off
the bench."

"Hey, no crutches. I thought you'd gotten it pretty bad last night."
Nick observed as he was pulled across the park toward a group of boys
playing basketball in a wire enclosed court.

"It's getting better. I can almost put my full weight on it. In fact
I've been trying to play a little b-ball on it, but it's not quite
ready."

They headed inside the high wire fence that enclosed the basketball
court. Three boys, all familiar faces, watched them from the court as
they approached. Rod put his arm around Nick, pressing him forward in
front of the group. "Nicole, meet Mits."

A short oriental boy threw the basketball he was holding to another
player and put out his hand to greet Nick. Nick remembered him from
school last spring. He had transferred from Minneapolis mid-year, had
trouble making friends at first, but his quiet intensity had won him a
small group by the end of the spring quarter. "It's nice to meet you,
Mits ." Nick said politely. The boy stared in his eyes wordlessly for
what seemed like an unusually long time, then offered, "Wow, you're a
knockout. You comin' to Watertown this fall?"

"Maybe." Nick answered. He looked over at Rod who raised his eyebrows
hopefully.

"This is Jazz Johnson, Nicole." A lean black smiled broadly and
bowed. "Pleased to meet you, ma'am. Any friend of Rods is a friend of
mine. . .anyway!"

Nick giggled and said "Hi, Jazz. Boy you're tall!"

"And growing," The smile broadened as if there was more meaning to
that intended than Nick understood, but he let it go and smiled back.

"And last but also least, this is Mike Voss."

Voss had played football with Rod and Nick, so he shook hands
nervously looking for recognition in his eyes but only saw the
nervousness returned. Why was this blonde farmboy nervous? Then he
remembered. Mike Voss had always been nervous around girls. Nick tried
to put him at ease. "How's the game going Mike?" he asked innocently.

Mike hesitated and looked around for some kind of escape. "Uh, fine."

"What's the score."

"It's Rod and me, 24, and Jazz and Mits, 28. Rod's been havin' a
little trouble with that ankle." Mike said, gaining confidence that Nick
wasn't going to bite.

"Yah," interjected Rod "I've had it. Want to finish the game up for
me, Nicole? You're dressed for it."

The three players looked at Rod and Nicole in surprise. Nick wasn't
sure what to say. . .The players regained their composure and apparently
decided that basketball with a gorgeous girl might be a lot of fun.

"Come on, Nicole." Said Jazz, Mike needs a player, not a cripple."

"I haven't played for a while," apologized Nick.

The other three quickly agreed that that was quite alright. "Your
ball." said Jazz as he threw the ball to Nick at the top of the circle.
"Half court. We're playing to thirty so you shouldn't have to get too
sweaty."

Nick watched Mikes husky body bull it's way into towards the basket
tried a pass over Mit's head. The pass went right into the wiry
Oriental's hands.

Got to adjust for this body thought Nick. The arms aren't as strong,
and I'm shorter. "It's OK, Nicole." shouted Mike.

Mits dribbled the ball out to the top of the key and charged back in
towards the bucket, but Nicole had placed herself in his path. As he
charged at her his eyes left the basket and lit on Nick's generous
chest. Distracted for a moment, Mits let the ball hit his foot and Nick
snatched it, taking it to the top of the key again. This time he bounced
a pass off the asphalt surface to Mike under the basket.

Mike grabbed it and threw a clumsy hook over Jazz who was closing in
fast. "Two" shouted Rod and the ball rolled around the hoop and in.

"Damn," said Jazz with feeling.

"Very lucky shot." added Mits and grinned at Nick. "But a good pass."

Jazz took the ball to the top of the key and tried a long jump shot.
the ball bounced off the rim and into Nick's hands off to the right side
of the free-throw line.

"26 to 28" Rod stated, "With a chance to tie."

Mike moved in the backcourt underneath the basket and Nick remembered
that he liked to alley-oop. A play where a ball was thrown in the air
near the basket and tipped in by a nearby player. Nick put the ball up
towards the basket out of reach of Jazz who was on the other side of
Mike, giving it a little extra omph to compensate for the weaker muscles
in his feminine arms. Mike tipped the ball. It bounced against the metal
backboard, hitting the front of the rim, rolled around and in."

"All tied up." called Rod.

"We knew that, man." said Jazz. He looked at Mits and said, "let's
put this one away."

Suddenly Nick wanted to win more than anything in the world. To prove
to these boys, to prove to himself, that a girl could be whatever she
wanted to be. Play basketball if she wanted. To prove to himself that
maybe he hadn't changed as much as it seemed.

Mits took that ball to the top of the circle and dribbled around to
the right, protecting the ball with his wiry body. He looked at Jazz,
towering over Mike, near the basket and Nick saw his eyes look to
exactly where the ball would be passed. He went for the ball as the pass
was thrown, deflecting it. He ran nimbly after it and caught it with a
quick dribble. This isn't bad he thought, I'm more coordinated than I
used to be. Nick crossed over the top of the circle as the rules of
half court say you must do before shooting a stolen ball. Without
thinking he dribbled toward the basket, big breasts bouncing. Jazz went
into the air to block Nick's shot, so he ducked under him continuing for
the basket instead of stopping to shoot where Jazz blocked his path.

He took a short jumper about 5 feet from the basket, but the ball it
the rim and bounced away. Just like the wastepaper basket, thought Nick.

Mike grabbed the rebound in a struggle with Jazz who had been
watching Nick dribble toward the basket with flatfooted awe. He threw
the ball out to Nick.

Nick ran toward the corner, then turned and tore down the baseline
under the basket, turning at about seven feet from the basket for a jump
shot. Don't forget to compensate, Nick, he thought to himself. You're
not as tall or as strong as you used to be. Nick imagined the path the
ball would take to the basket and put a little extra oomph on the ball
to make sure it followed that path.

He wondered if he had shot too hard. It went in cleanly without
hitting the rim.

The three boys and Rod converged on Nick, who was panting from the
exertion by the basket. They all congratulated him and Mike gave him a
big hug. "Hey, you're good." he offered. "You can play with me any
time."

Nick caught his breath and looked around. The warm sun still lit the
afternoon scene. He felt the exhilaration of the moment. Maybe this
wouldn't be so bad he thought. He could still do all the same things he
had done before. Some things he could do even better. This whole thing
would be OK.

Rod and Nick joined Mike, Mits and Jazz at the edge of the pond to
skip stones and talk.

They spent the rest of the afternoon trying to teach Mike to make a
flat stone skip and falling into convulsive laughter every time he tried
and the stone dove like a submarine instead of flying off the water in
neat little hops.

The group walked to the exit of the park together and chatted about
the football camp to start tomorrow and Watertown's chances in the in
the conference next fall. Nick had never felt so close to any of his
friends as he felt right now to these four boys.

As they parted Rod caught him and took him aside. "Want to go out
tomorrow night? I have a surprise. A favorite place I'd like to show
you, but we've got to leave before dark. Maybe four o'clock."

"If my Mom lets me, she's pretty mad about the HIDEOUT."

"Unless she says no, we've got a date then."

"Unless she says no, I say yes." Nick said smiling.

He walked across town and thought about the day, the last two weeks
and his life ahead. Everything was going to be fine.

***FORM FOLLOWS FUNCTION***

Nick turned over in the cool sheets. A bright spot of light caught
her in the eye and she had to scoot over on the mattress to avoid it.
She drifted back to sleep feeling like her veins were filled with warm
molasses. Sweet and warm. She straightened the powder blue babydolls she
had worn to bed last night and turned again to get more comfortable. She
hugged herself and felt her soft breasts yield to her arms below them.
Her hands wandered to her nipples. Slim fingers played delicately on
their surface and they jutted out like tiny mountains during the
formation of the earth. Out of the lavaflows rose the mountains thought
Nick. Nick spread her legs to get more comfortable. The bottoms of
nightie seemed damp so she slid them down to her knees and pulled her
right foot up to catch it in the leghole of the panties. She grinned to
herself as she pulled the panties down to her feet with her toes. She
felt the new place between her legs with her fingers. It was wet and
soft and very sensitive. Just a finger lightly brushing the edges of the
moist portion sent shivers up and down her body. Her beautiful body she
thought.

She grabbed the ruffled bottom edge of her babydolls and pulled them
over her head. She decided to check out this body that boys had found so
interesting for two weeks.

She pulled her foot up close to examine it, bending her knee. Nicole
was amazed at how close she could get it. She had never looked closely
at her foot before the change, but this foot was obviously very
different. The toes were long and slim, like her new fingers, and the
foot was short. She wiggled the little toes in delight at the delicate
feminine appendage before her. Her hands slid on either side of the
smooth slim leg she held and felt the firm calf. As a boy her calves had
bulged out but this one was almost a cylinder with no obvious muscular
definition. In fact Nicole noticed no real muscular definition anywhere
on her body. It all seemed hidden beneath smooth, soft poreless skin.

Nicole continued running her hands up her leg, feeling the buttery
skin yield under her fingers. Her thighs were tight, but not hard as
before. They seemed to grow larger as her hands neared the juncture of
thigh and hips. Her hands would have run into a male organ by now, but
instead she could feel increasing warmth and dampness.

Nick's shop teacher had always said "Form follows function." She
thought about that. What function did this form follow. Her hips were
wide compared to her thin tapering legs. Why? Her cock and balls had
been replaced with a moist slit, for what purpose? She put her hands at
her narrow waist and asked herself what a tiny waist had to do with
being female? Was it all fucking and babies? Or were their other talents
women were meant to have? Somehow Nicole felt she had more talents, and
more options than she ever had as a boy.

Like never before, Nicole felt she could do and be anything she
wanted to be. She could still be the athlete her father wanted, she had
proven that to herself yesterday. She had made close new friendships
that had eluded her as a boy and her special friendship with Rod was
like nothing she had experienced. It scared and excited her. She hoped
it would continue and grow because it made her feel so good! Life itself
seemed filled with promise. She didn't have to live up to someone else's
role for her any more. She could define her own role. If she wanted to
be passive and lean on Rod, it was alright, but she could be assertive,
too.

Nicole got up and looked at herself in the mirror attached to the
inside of her closet door. Her naked body was indeed of Playboy caliber.
Blonde shoulder-length hair framed a round, pretty face that only
faintly resembled the old Nick. Nick was gone. That was OK. Nicole's
life would be much better than Nick's, she was certain of that. She put
her hands under the grapefruit sized globes of soft flesh on her chest
and brought the nipples close to her face. They were a bright rose color
sharply contrasting the pale skin of her breasts. At the end of each
nipple she could see a tiny depression. She turned the nipple in her
fingers and they hardened, sending little shivers through her body
again. She watched the colored area around the nipples grow bumpy and
wrinkled. Through her fog of pleasure and concentration she suddenly
heard a knocking at her bedroom door. A cold rush of guilt ran through her
body as she hurriedly grabbed her nightly top off the bed and pulled it
over her head. She was fishing the bottoms out of the sheets when the
door swung open.

Nicole saw Julie's silhouette in the door. She was saying "Boom baba
Boom Baba Boom," and swinging her slim hips.

As Nicole's eyes adjusted she saw Julie in the tiny pink cotton
bikini and "Go-Go" tee-shirt that Nicole had worn at the wet tee-shirt
contest.
"Julie what are you doing?"

"You've been a bad influence on me, Nick. I want to be a wet tee-
shirt contestant when I grow up, just like my big sister."

"You. . . you, twerp! I'll show you wet!" Nicole grabbed Julie's arm,
pulling it behind her back. She pushed Julie in front of her and lead
her to the shower.

"No, No. You'll mess up my hair." she squealed.

"You should have thought of that before your new career choice.

Nicole turned on the shower and pushed Julie in, but as she fell into
the stream of ice cold water, laughing, she grabbed Nicole who lost his
balance and inadvertently joined her.

They both charged out of the shower, giggling uncontrollably, Julie
running, Nick chasing.

"Nick, no," Julie screamed as she ran.
Nicole stopped and sat down on the top of the step that went down to
the front hallway. "Julie, call me Nicole. I think I like that name
better now."

Julie looked up the steps at her beautiful sister, sitting at the top
step in a soaking wet pair of powder blue baby dolls. She looked very
lovely and at peace with herself.

"OK, Nicole," she said, "You got it!"

END

EPILOG

***FUZZBUSTER***

Earl Theigpin looked over at his partner Marv Simpson as he turned
the Watertown patrol car onto the county road that lead to the old
monastery. He grabbed the microphone of his radio and hit the talk
button.

"Car to base. Turning onto county road 167 to check out the apparent
firelight seen in the local of the old monastery. Base. Base are you
there?"

Damn it, Marge, are you on coffee break?"

"If she's on coffee break, how can she hear you, stupid?" said Marv
riding shotgun.

"She keeps doing that when we got important business, I'm hirin' a
new secretary."

"Hell, you'll never do that. Where'll you find a doll like Marge to
Boom Babwork for $4.50 an hour?"

"Ya," Earl sighed, "That's the problem alright. Hey look, there's
still a light comin' from the buildings. Looks kinda green."

"Could be one of those camp lights, they're kinda' a weird color."

Earl pulled up close to the ruined east wall of the old complex. he
opened the door, got out of the door and pulled his gun.

"You're gonna carry that gun?"

"Police Journal's full of obituaries of officers who didn't." Earl
said seriously.

Earl and Marv peeked around the arched entry into the outer walls of
the monastery and slid through the doorway into the inner gardens. The
silhouette of the old chapel loomed to the west as then kept low and
silently scampered across the open gardens area to the archways of the
cloisters.

"There, look." Marv pointed at the green glow that seemed to come
from an archway just across the cloisters, 20 yards away.

"You see anybody?" Earl whispered.

"Nope." Answered Marv.

"What the hell is that?" Marv cried to Earl.
A huge batlike shape beat it wings as it flew down towards the entire
2 man Watertown Police force.

"Damn." said Marv and the two ran toward the center of the cloisters
to avoid the strange creature. Earl fired a warning shot into the night
air, turning around looking for the creature in the night sky. It
appeared flying at them from the archway they had entered the cloisters
from. He drove them closer to the glowing green light of the arch across
the yard. The two now had their guns drawn and stood back to back just
ten yards from the glowing light. The beast came at them again.

Marv turned to Earl as the ducked and shouted, "Let's run for cover."
Earl and Marv dashed through the arch towards the safety of the building
walls .

As he hit the plane of the arch, Earl heard a sharp crackling and
felt an warm shrinking sensation. He looked over in surprise to see
Marv's blue Police uniform grow loose as the body inside seemed to
change in shape. Marv's prominent beer belly shrink and disappeared as
his bald head sprouted hair. Marv's new slim figure allowed no purchase
for his huge pants and Earl watched in wonder as the pants fell down. He
looked at what was underneath and fainted dead away.

They supplied us with a Browning automatic. The deal came with a
100-round drum. I heard about a gunsmith. He knows how to drill
holes in the receiver for the autosear.

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