Copyright 2001 by George Carter
 
 

1 January 2001.  Early morning.  Sydney, Australia.

I drifted between sleep and wakefulness.  My skin was dotted with
sweat, and the sweat smelled of rum.  I was dreaming drunken
dreams in the sultry morning humidity.  It was that hour before dawn
when the human beast is at his weakest; when most people take their
last breath; when magic happens.

One minute I was there, semi-aware of my skin soaking the cotton
sheets, and the next....
 

*Elsewhen, Elsewhere*

The next minute, I was standing and awake, my familiar bedroom
nowhere to be seen.  I was naked - I always sleep naked - and I was
surrounded by a thick mist.  I couldn't see what kind of a room I was
in, but my feet were telling me the floor was like fine carpeting.  I
looked around, but everything seemed indistinct, save for what I
could see of myself.  My mind was strangely unquestioning.

Another figure slowly appeared out of the mist.  A woman, with
chestnut hair down to her shoulders, wearing something white.  She
came closer, until I could see her face.  Blue eyes, lighter and clearer
than my own.  A vaguely triangular face that spent a lot of time
smiling.  A pert nose and a mouth surely made for kissing... I knew
her.  In fact, I worked for her.  Laura McAllister, my boss at Lifeline,
whom I'd taken my leave of mere hours before, when I left the
office's New Year bash.  It looked like she'd been snatched from her
bed, too, because she was wearing a t-shirt with a teddy bear motif,
bikini panties, and nothing else.  She had great legs, I noticed.

'George?  Is that you?' she asked.  Then she saw that I was unclad,
and turned her head away, embarrassed.  I figured that this had to be
a dream, so I kept right on leering at her.  There was definitely an
attraction between us.  She was a divorcee; so was I, only it wasn't
yet official.  We'd spent some time at the party gently flirting with
each other, but I didn't want to shit in my own nest by dating my
boss, and I figured she was too professional to get involved with a
subordinate.  Flirting could be a lot of fun, though.  No big surprise
that I might dream about her.

Then the fairy appeared.  Well, I didn't know what else to call it - call
her.  She looked female, I thought.  About three feet tall, in
proportion like a scale model adult, hovering in the air on little
gossamer wings, doing little dances and aerobatics in miniature,
perfect grace.

Fascinated, I edged closer to her.  She had short red hair, straight,
with a ragged fringe, albino-pale skin, and eyes... oversized, clear,
lovely pools with violet irises.  She seemed naked, I could see no
garment on her, but she had no visible nipples or genitalia.  It was as
though the female form was only a coat she was wearing... not her
real body.  She actually had two pairs of insect-like wings attached to
her back.

I closed my eyes, and laughed.  'Cool dream... I'm never going to mix
OP rum and red wine again!'

Then the fairy spoke.  'I am Moire.  My gift is to control the form of
flesh... and you, my Chosen... your stench offends me.'  She
performed a swift, intricate aerial dance, and I felt something strange,
as if my kidneys had jumped out of my body and were cleansing me
from the outside.  There was no pain, just that weird feeling, and
when it was over, I felt clean.  Clean and sober.

'Whoa', I reacted, 'Instant hangover cure.  If you could bottle that
you'd make a fortune.'

 Moire didn't seem amused.  She flew closer to Laura, executed an
Immelmann and a pirouette, and addressed her.  'Approach him', she
said. 'Look at him. And be still.'  Commands.  It seemed ludicrous.
Laura was an inch taller than myself.  She could have plucked the
little fairy out of the sky with ease.  Instead, she walked towards me,
her eyes locked on my torso.  A skitter of fear ran down my spine as
I saw the almost pained expression on her face.

'George, I'm frightened.  I don't want to do this, but... I can't seem to
stop myself.'

'Don't worry about it', I replied, my voice deliberately light.  'It's only
a dream.  We know it's a dream, so we're about to wake up.  You'll
laugh about it soon.'  I hoped.

There was a sound like the tinkling of tiny bells.  Eventually I
twigged that this was Moire's laughter.  'This is no dream.  It is far
more real than your own world.  Accept your fate, my Chosen.  It
will not be unpleasant.'

That was twice she'd called me Chosen, and she hadn't addressed
Laura by name at all.  Something to keep in mind.  I didn't have long
to think about it though, as Moire dashed up in a zoom climb,  turned
back down in a split-s, and turned her commanding tone on me.
'Tear those ridiculous garments off her body.'  Just like that.

I knew she'd tell me to do something, and I was tensed, prepared to
resist.  I didn't know what to expect, but I'd envisaged some kind of
battle of wills, something I could at least fight, if not defeat.  I
couldn't have been more wrong.  My limbs started moving of their
own volition.  I was trying to call them back, but it was like she had a
direct link to my central nervous system, and my brain was
disconnected from my body.  She had control, I didn't, and that was
that.

Laura looked terrified as my hands clutched at her shirt.  'I'm sorry', I
said, 'I can't help it.'  The cold, sick horror of it  sank in the pit of my
stomach.  I'd been robbed of my free will... no, that wasn't quite
right.  I could still think, and even still talk.  I just couldn't act.

I could still think.  My mind started to race furiously.  How specific
were Moire's commands?  Did I have any room to move?

I was having trouble tearing the shirt.  My hands reached to the seam
at the left armpit, and tore at it.  Laura was sobbing.  'Don't move', I
begged her, 'I might hurt you by mistake.'  The seam was giving.  The
shirt was beginning to tear.  I looked down at my legs.  Could I move
them at all?

I tried to make my left leg fold underneath me, lose my balance and
fall.  No dice.  It wouldn't move.  Then I tried something less
ambitious.  I swiveled my foot about ten degrees.  Success!  Did that
mean gradual movements were possible?

I had to figure this out more quickly.  I'd finally started a tear in the
fabric of Laura's shirt.  I watched helplessly as a stranger's arms tore
the shirt to pieces.  Then my knees flexed, as they would not before,
and my hands reached for the panties.  If I could turn just one hand
slightly... but no.  I couldn't command them at all.

Laura was pleading now for me not to do this.  All I could do was
apologise.  She yelped with pain as I tore the panties off.  My task
complete, I stood again, and realised at once that it had been my idea
to do so.  If she made no command... after I'd completed her last
command... my body was mine to control.  File it away.

There are about fifty old Star Trek episodes where Kirk and co. are
captured by godlike aliens, and they're all the friggin' same.  Kirk's
playing for his life, he's holding a busted flush, and he bluffs like
crazy, hoping to at least find out something about his captors that he
could turn to his advantage later.  It seemed like a plan, and what
else did I have?

I turned away from Laura, who was still paralysed, to confront
Moire.  'I know what you're planning.You want me to rape her, don't
you?  For your own twisted amusement.  In fact, you want to rape us
both.'

Her voice was softly mocking.  'What I want is for you to love your
woman.  You don't admit it, but you want her.'

I shook my head.  'Not like this.'

'Then do not resist me.  She wants you, too.  Why do you mortal
mayflies spend so much of your meagre spans denying yourselves?
Love her.  You will attain your desire, and amuse me at the same
time.'

'No.'

'Then I will force you.  Do not bring me to anger.  I could easily
make you kill her.'

'You can force me, I know.  But I can still fight.  I'll try anything I
can think of to thwart you. I will find a way, somehow.  I will harm
myself before I harm her.'

Moire had, almost, a respectful expression. 'Let me show you what I
mean when I say that I control the form of flesh.'   She paused to
think, then started her aerial ballet again.  'Turn to face her.  Then
cease all movement.'

I had to obey.  There was absolutely nothing ambiguous about that
order.

'Both of you.  Look at each other.'

There came a kind of shimmer in the air.  Laura's body became
slightly indistinct.  Her skin was starting to move and flow as I stared
in open- mouthed horror.

She was changing, and so was I.

She became larger overall.  Her shoulders and arms became larger,
while her hips shrank.  Hair started appearing where none was
before.  Her breasts shrank, then flattened completely.  A penis was
growing rapidly from her loins.  She was changing from a lovely
woman to a handsome man.

I couldn't see myself, but I could feel many changes in my own body.
The first thing I noticed was my skin becoming more sensitive.  My
hair was tumbling down to my shoulders.  I felt physically weaker.
My equilibrium changed, so I knew my body's shape was changing.  I
could feel my new breasts pulling at my chest.

Then the emotional rush hit me.  I had a woman's body, and that
came with a completely different balance of hormones.  My mind, on
an intellectual level, was still me; but my body was trying to shout
that it was someone else.  I feared I was going to go mad.
Desperately, just for the sake of something to think,  I mused that I
wasn't Captain Kirk after all... I was the poor bastard in the red shirt
who gets to demonstrate how the monster works by getting himself
killed.

I could see that Laura now had an erection.  God help me, my own
body was responding to the sight!  It was like a warm glow,
spreading from my belly through all of my new body.  Was this the
way it was for women?  It felt... good.

Laura was fully transformed.  Her... his  erection was... big.  Bigger
than mine ever was.  I was very, very frightened.  In fact, and I'm
ashamed to admit it, I was on the verge of panic.  I was biting my
tongue to avoid screaming, and tears were running down my cheeks.
Laura was licking her/his lips absently.  Moire must have seen this;
she laughed, and told Laura s/he could move freely.  Laura started to
slowly approach me, and I was still completely unable to move.

'Don't,' I pleaded.  'Please, Laura!'  I was shocked by the sound of my
own voice, a smoky, sexy mezzo-soprano.  Then I heard Laura's new
voice - a  quiet, low baritone - and something warm and moist started
happening to me.

'How... how do you deal with it, George?  Is it like this all the time
for men?  The urge... is so strong... and you're... so beautiful.'

Beautiful?  Me?  The sheer absurdity of the idea helped me to
concentrate.  I found I was able to speak.  'The urge is strong, but
you're stronger.  Remember who you really are.  You are Laura
McAllister, and you don't have to do this.'

Big fat hope.  I didn't believe it myself, so how could I expect him
to?  He was going to stick that thing in me, and when he did, there'd
be nothing left of my identity.  I was terrified.  I could feel my grip on
sanity loosening.

Then he touched me.  A hand on my cheek, the other in my hair, and
oh lord, it felt so good.  He towered over me, but he was gentle, and
I almost let go, and the only thing that saved me was that thing of his
poking me in the belly.  The fear returned, and it cleared my head,
and I decided it was better to bend than  to break.

'Moire', I called, 'I'll be good.  I'll do as you ask.  Willingly.  Change
us back... please... and I'll love her for you.'  I was sobbing.  'Please...
I'm begging you.  I can't...'

When it happened, it surprised both Moire and me.  Laura's face
darkened, his teeth bared, and his hand moved quicker than I could
see, and there was a red explosion in my face, and I fell to the floor,
such as it was.

I was curled up in a fetal position, trying to deal with the wave of
pain from my cheek, and the blood from where my teeth had
betrayed me, tearing the soft flesh.  I couldn't see. I was crying like a
baby.  I could move again, but I was no less helpless than before.
Laura could break my neck like a twig with that new body, if he'd a
mind to.  I was sure he did have a mind to.

I waited for the end.  Such a stupid, worthless, hopeless way to die.

The despair that was running through my veins like poisoned blood
lasted only as  long as it took for me to realise that Laura wasn't
going to hit me again.  It was quickly replaced by shame and self-
loathing.  Where the hell were my balls, I asked myself, lying here
waiting to be beaten?  Then I thought about what I'd said... and I
actually started to giggle.

Enough.  I had to get to my feet.  I had to act, rather than just think,
for that way lay madness.  I rose, and blinked the tears out of my
eyes.

There was Laura, now a big strong man, with his hands up over his
mouth in a very feminine expression of shock.  His erection was
gone, but the damn thing was still a monster, even on the slack.  I
was envious.

'George, I'm so sorry! I... I wanted to... and then it was like you'd
rejected me, and I just kind of... oh God, it's just so... hard.  Look
how I've hurt you.  Your poor face... I'm a ...'

I rushed to him, and took one of his hands between mine.  'It's not
your fault.  You weren't in your right mind.'  I kissed his hand to try
to show that I forgave him, and left a bloody smear on his fingers.  'It
really isn't your fault', I repeated.  'Think about it... you've been a
woman all your life, and now, suddenly, you're flooded with male
hormones. Umm... lots of male hormones, judging from your... build.
And no years of learning to deal with it, like I had.  No wonder you
lost control.  But you got your control back... thank God for that.
Are you all right now?'

'Am... am *I* all right?  Ohh, George... how can you be so... so...'

We were interrupted by the sound of Moire's voice from beside us.

'I trust that you both understand the point of the lesson.'  And with
that, and another of her little ballet routines, we got our own bodies
back.  I raised my hand to my mouth.  It was intact.  I felt a chemical
wave of strength and confidence suffusing me, and that made me
brave enough to face Moire again.

'Is there any way I can persuade you to leave Laura alone?  I know
that I'm the one you want to torment.  Well, you can.  I can't stop
you.  If you send her back... I'll... cooperate with you.  Please.'

'Why do you persist with this?'  Moire's expression darkened.  What
is she to you, to make you risk your all?'

'I... I care about her.  I don't want to see her suffer.  I...'

A warm hand touched my own.  Another hand gripped my shoulder
and turned me around.  Laura embraced me, and pressed her soft,
warm breasts against my chest.  Her eyes threatened to brim over
with tears.  Her lips were parted.  'What are you doing?' I asked.

'Saving your life.  Both our lives.'  Then she kissed me.  Her tongue
slipped between my lips.  It was a promise. She drew her face away
and spoke again. 'You're a good, decent man, and I love you for
trying, but... stop trying.  Let's give her what she wants.'

She kissed me again, harder, deeper, and things started happening in
my body.  Familiar, masculine things.  Things that made me want to
rejoice that I had my old body back and that it still worked.  Things
that made me want to celebrate this woman who was wiser than I.
Of course she was right. We were in a hopeless position, being
unable to resist the little voyeur-pixie, and having nothing to bargain
with, and it was only my pig-headed refusal to compromise on
principle that had kept me fighting for this long.  It was time to
surrender.  To each other.

Slowly we sank to the floor of this odd place.  Its texture was fine
and soft, like the finest lawn... like lying on a putting green.  It had
enough give in it to make us comfortable when we lay upon it.  Laura
had initiated this, but she lay back, passively inviting me to sample
her buffet of feminine charms, her eyes closed and a half-smile on her
lips.  Propped up on one elbow beside her, I ran a hand through the
luxurious thickness of her chestnut hair while I placed a tender kiss
on each of her eyelids.  My fingertips brushed her face, running down
the contours like a blind man's would.  One finger traced down over
her full, crimson lips - she'd never need lipstick - and as it parted
them, she moved her head forward a fraction and trapped my finger
between her teeth.  Her tongue touched my finger for a second
before she released me.  Another promise.  My freed finger splayed
her lips apart as I moved my face to hers and kissed her again, slowly
exploring her mouth with my tongue.  Sliding over her own tongue,
playing and exploring, with the intimate contact sending surges of
blood and power through my body, preparing it for the passionate
contest to come.

I ended the kiss, panting.  My hands started moving again, along the
base of her ribcage, my palms moving under her firm, medium-sized
breasts.  She was a good few years younger than I, and in better
shape.  Her skin was taut under my hands.  Her own fingers had
found my scrotum, and she was absently playing with it.

'I want you to know,' she started, 'that I want to do this.  Not
because of... her... but in spite of her.'

I nodded.  'Me too.'  My heart was full.  It was under the worst
possible circumstances... but we'd found each other.  We'd get
through this, leave this place, and then, in our own place and time we
would look into each other's eyes again.  Until that very moment, I
didn't believe in love at first sight.  Maybe it was just that I'd never
looked hard enough before.

'Touch me', she implored.  I knew exactly what she meant.  Whatever
light source illuminated this strange place was enough for me to see
the dew of arousal beginning to show in Laura's pubic thatch.  My
hand moved to it, and stroking, encouraged it further.  With every
little stroke, every little probe, she muttered and groaned, adding fuel
to my desire.  For several minutes I continued to touch her, learning
the mysteries of her secret garden, and she slowly rocked and moved
under my fingers.  She was moist now.  The hand I wasn't using to
explore her sex was on a roving commission around her body.  This
hand was stroking an erect-nippled breast when she shook all over
and gasped.

'Did you...?' I asked.

She smiled.  'A little one', she replied.  'Are you ready?' she asked,
and moved her legs into a welcoming posture.  By way of answer, I
propped myself above her and allowed her to take hold of my erect
cock and guide it into her.  I entered her slowly, savouring every
little bit of this sweet invasion.  Once I was all the way in, I paused,
feeling her all around me, and let myself fall slowly on to her,
touching skin to skin all along our selves.  I kissed her again, and
with our mouths working in concert, I started thrusting.   In this
strange, timeless place, we reached for our moment, and found it,
and I know that when we were finished, at least one of us had tears
in his eyes.

We looked at each other, smiled, and rose to our feet.  I took her
hand in my own like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Moire was there.  I questioned her silently with my eyes.

She spoke, and I was sure some of her imperiousness was gone.
'Your part in this is now over, Laura', she said.  'It is time for you to
return to your own world.  You will remember this only as a fleeting
dream.'

Laura was rocked by this statement.  'May... may I speak to George
for a moment before I go?' she asked.  Moire nodded.  'Be quick.'

I burned the location of Moire into my memory before I turned to
Laura.  'I'll be fine, sweetheart... don't worry.  Go before she changes
her mind.'

'George', she answered, 'If you come out of this okay... and you
remember what happened... come and get me.  Be direct... be firm...
and don't take no for an answer.  I like that... but I don't let anyone
know it.   Please... if we can, let's find each other again.'

We embraced, and kissed.  Possibly my last kiss, if the desperate idea
I'd conceived didn't work.  I treated it like my last kiss, in any event.

Take your whole life in your hands and squeeze it into a ball.

 I didn't want to let her go, but I didn't want her to have to stay
either.  I looked Laura in the eyes and said, 'I love you.  I'll come
back for you.'

We parted.  Laura approached Moire and said 'I'm ready.'

Moire executed one of her little dances, and the figure of the woman
I loved folded in on itself, becoming a flat figure, like a cut-out, then
just a vertical line, which shrank to a point, then... nothing.

It looked like that little stunt had wearied Moire; she lost a little
altitude and hovered for a moment  about seven feet from the
ground.  It was now or never.

Take your whole life in your hands and squeeze it into a ball.
Squeeze damn hard.  Bowl your best ball,  make it a wrong 'un, and
hope like hell she doesn't pick it, 'cos you'll only get one chance.

Moire turned toward me, and was about to say something, but I'd
already leapt toward her.  Frantically, she flapped her wings and tried
to evade me, but she was just a moment too slow.  One of my hands
found her arm and seized it.  My  sheer mass brought her down; her
little wings couldn't support us both.

If I was right, she had to be free to dance her aerial patterns to work
her magic, so if I held on to her, she was helpless.  If I was wrong...
there'd be no telling what she'd do to me.  The next seconds would
tell the tale.

She struggled, flapped her wings, and wailed a keening noise of pain.
But I was still me.  I was feeling triumphant and mean.  So when she
begged me to loosen my grip on her, I told her to shut up or I'd pull
her little wings off.  She gasped in horror, and her huge violet eyes
filled with tears.  Her voice was tiny as she said, 'You may as well
tear me limb from limb.  It would kill me just as surely.'

And then the past hit me between the eyes, as I remembered the most
shameful thing I'd ever done.  As a small boy, I had once trapped a
small bird - a sparrow - in the garage and battered it half to death.
Just one of those things that curious small boys do.  Life was such a
mystery that I had to try to explore the other side of it.  But then I
realised that the bird was in terrible pain, that I'd maimed it, and I
hated myself so much that I was sick.  Then my father found out, and
he forced me to put the bird out of its misery by killing it.  It just may
have been the most valuable lesson he ever gave me - that actions
have consequences, and that a thinking human being should accept
responsibility for his actions.

The vicious little sadist that I always knew was lurking under the
surface of my soul had come out.  I was ashamed of myself.  But I
couldn't let her go;  I was sure she'd destroy me if I did.  I looked at
her, and I could see awful bruises under my fingers.  I was sickened
by them.

As I was debating my next move, there came a shimmering light in
the air not ten feet away from me.  A sort of hole started to appear in
the very air, and a second fairy stepped through it.  This one
resembled Moire somewhat, but had an altogether different air about
her.  While she wore no badge or other mark of station, she was
undeniably regal in her bearing.

'I would appreciate it, sir, if you would unhand my daughter.'

Out of the frying pan.  Into the blast furnace.
 

My problem is that I think quickly and I have a lot of imagination.
Usually, I count these things as strengths;  but, at that moment, they
were definitely liabilities.  Had I been slower-witted, the prospect of
immediate death might have been easier to deal with.

As it was, I could feel despair clutching at me with icy fingers.  I was
going to die, of that I was certain.  I still had my grip locked on
Moire, but the second fairy, who identified herself as Moire's
mother, no less, was free to act.  Moire was capable of transforming
my body from male to female, so a little feat like, say, pulverizing my
heart inside my chest would be no problem.  Like I implied, I have
too much imagination.

I had threatened Moire with dismemberment.  I therefore had two
chances of survival - none and Buckley's.

Never again would I walk along a beach in the middle of a hot
summer night and feel the water lapping at my toes.  Never again
would I taste really good ice cream, the kind made with buttermilk.
I promised Laura that I'd come back for her, and now I never would.
I'd never get to look into her eyes and tell her I love her all over
again.

I would never, ever see my unborn child's face.

Linda would come to term and give birth wondering what had ever
happened to me.  The world would keep on turning.  People would
go about their lives.  Life would go on.

Without me.

Oh, God, life was so sweet.  So damn sweet that I couldn't
bear the thought of losing it.  It was only some scintilla of pride that
stopped me from prostrating myself and begging for mercy.

I released Moire.  What did it matter any more?  I'd taken my best
shot, but it wasn't enough.  I wanted to crawl into my shell and give
up.  I had lost.  Everything.

But somehow, near the very bottom of my plunge, I found the words
I needed to stop it.

To give in to despair is the greatest betrayal of all.  Betrayal of self.
All men die in their time, and it isn't the when, it's the how one dies
that matters.  And a man with nothing left to lose has absolutely
nothing left to fear.

I think I lost it a little at that point, because I was sure I had a fierce
grin on my face when I faced the two of them and dared them to do
their worst.

The elder fairy turned to Moire and said, 'Do you see?  He knows.
He knows what all warriors come to know.  He knows now what the
Thunderer knew when he faced the Serpent.  You chose well,
daughter.'

Moire looked devastated.  'It has come to naught.  He has escaped
me.  All has come to ruin.'

I was still alive.  It made me bold.  'Talk to me, not about me.  Tell
me what's going on.'

Moire was reduced to a near whisper as she replied, 'You had me at
your mercy.  Then you released me.  By our laws, I have no power
over you now.  And so, my life is almost over.'

Over?

I turned to the elder fairy.  'So what's stopping you... I'm sorry, I
didn't catch your name.'  Not bad going, insolent and courteous at
the same time.

She actually favoured me with a warm smile.  'I am Clodagh.  And I
have no interest in harming you, or coercing you.'

I didn't understand what was going on, but I did understand that I
wasn't going to die after all.  Suddenly my strength deserted me and
I wanted to sit down.  I drew my knees up in front of me and leant
my forehead on them, shaking.  I was going to live.

After a moment or two I stood up and approached Moire.  She
wasn't afraid of me, but she seemed gripped by despair.  I shouldn't
have done it - not after what she'd done - but I  was euphoric and I
felt generous. I took her hand between thumb and finger.  I said, 'I'm
sorry I hurt you.  I wish I could make it better.'

Before my eyes, the black bruises retreated, shrank, and finally
disappeared.  I couldn't quite believe it.  'Did... I do that?' I asked.

Clodagh answered, 'In this place, honest desire is very powerful.
You wished her less pain, so it came to pass.'

Moire chose that moment to turn on her mother. 'Why did you tell
him to release me?  You have doomed me.'

Clodagh shook her head.  'Daughter, it was over as soon as he seized
you.  From there, he could only slay you or release you.  Do not
blame me for preferring you alive.'  She waited a moment,
pondering, then continued.  'Besides, your doom is far from certain.'

I'd had enough of trying to glean meaning from this babble, and I
told them so.

Clodagh nodded.  'Yes, you deserve to know the whole story.
Perhaps you should get comfortable.'

I sank to the floor again.  Clodagh gestured, and a portion of it
formed into a shape somewhat like a chair. Pretty neat trick.  I sat.

Clodagh started speaking. 'When I was young  your ancestors lived
in caves.  Moire is younger, but is still over a thousand of your years
old.  There are few of us left, since the great bargain was struck and
magic left your world, and those that remain need men such as you
to sustain our lives.  We are immortal... but immortality has always
come at a price.'

'Men such as me?  Do you mean any men?  Or particular ones?'

'The latter.  Your mother's bloodline is very strong.  Your forebears
were men and women of power... druids, skalds,  warrior poets.
Kings. Your blood has the potential for magic.  Not in your own
world, not any more,  but here... very much so.  Your healing of
Moire simply proved that.'

I didn't understand any of it, so I decided to tackle one question at a
time.  'So why did you drag Laura here?  Why did you treat us so
cruelly?  What was the purpose?'

Moire replied.  'I had to provoke strong emotions from you in order
to find out if you were suitable to sustain me.  I brought Laura here
because I had to taste the colour of your ecstasy.'

'And was I... suitable?'

'Yes.  Quite. The mere taste that I received extended my life by over
a year.'

'And if I hadn't been suitable?'

'That is why so few of us remain.  I have been watching you all your
life.  I chose you before your birth.  Had you turned out to be petty,
selfish, vain or cowardly, I would not have been able to sustain
myself from you.  And so, in a few of your years - a blink of the eye
to such as we - I would have passed on.  As... I will pass on.'

I jumped to the wrong conclusion.  'So you sacrifice men to extend
your own lives?'

Moire laughed; a bitter, ironic bark.  'You have not been listening.
When you were with your woman, did I say I tasted your blood?
No.  Your flesh?  No.  What did I say I tasted?'

'My... ecstasy?'

'Correct.  The energy that you liberate at the peak of your pleasure.'

'You feed... on orgasm?  That's the source of your immortality?'

'Correct again.'

'I'm sorry', I said, 'but that doesn't make sense.  You couldn't derive
enough energy to live for a day from one sexual act, let alone a year
or more.'

Moire was looking frustrated and annoyed.  Clodagh flew near me
and tried to explain.

'Our realm does not work on the same principles as yours.  Your
paradigm - your "laws of physics" - is egalitarian in nature.  Your
natural laws affect everyone the same way, and so they are filled
with limiting factors, like your quaint ideas about "conservation of
energy."  We work by different rules, and since we don't have a
decade to instruct you, please merely accept the truth of what I say.'

'What does it matter?' Moire snapped.  'Enough of this.  We should
send him back to his world, and I should waste no more of my last
days.'

The silent tableau  lasted for a long moment.  I stood again, and
looked at the two of them.  Moire's face was the image of  despair.
Clodagh, by way of contrast, showed only patient expectation.
Perhaps she knew what was going through my mind.

I knew what Moire was feeling.  I'd felt it all myself, all too recently.
Maybe I was the world's biggest sucker, or maybe I was just curious;
or maybe I felt compassion for her, or maybe it was just that I
believed in life.   Whatever it was, I turned to her and said, 'What do
I need to do to... sustain you?'

The look on Moire's face was worth the price of admission.  I'd
cracked her cool façade and put a look of astonished surprise there.
'Do you really mean that?  But... why?'

I'd had a moment more to think about why, and I told her what I'd
concluded.  'Because my world is a little bit more wonderful now
that I know such creatures as you exist.  It would sadden me, now,
to know you were going to die and that I could have prevented it.
Having said that... this isn't going to kill me or anything, right?'

I thought I saw tears starting from her eyes.  She shook her head and
said,  'No. It won't kill you.  There is some danger if I am careless,
but... I will ensure you are not harmed.  I... thank you.'

She landed a dozen steps away from me.  Then she started to
change... to swell.  Her little wings vanished and she grew ito the
size and shape of a woman.  A human woman.  And not just anyone.

Moire had become a perfect copy of Laura.  She asked, 'Does this
form please you?  Or would you prefer another?'  She stepped
slowly toward me, and as she did, her features and form flowed like
quicksilver.

She became Linda.   Then Angela.  Then Jane.  Each one a woman
that I'd loved, some with my heart, all with my body, all within the
last few months.  What's the male version of 'slut'?   Whatever it
was, I guess I was it.  My heart was doing little flips in my chest...
and then she changed again, and I felt pierced to my core.

Standing there, staring me in the face, and stark naked, was Kate.
My wife of eight years, who walked out six months ago. I clenched
my eyes tight and said, 'No. Not her.  It's too hard to look on her.'
I waited a moment and then opened my eyes again,  and the face I
saw was Moire's own; a little rounder, the features a little softer.  It
was Moire as a human being.  I looked upon her and decided that
drowning in those huge violet eyes wouldn't be such a bad way to
go.

I looked down, and saw that Moire had adopted a body that was like
my ideal female form.  Her hair, still red, was down to her shoulders.
Her neck was longish and fine.  She was petite.  Her breasts were
firm, large-nippled handfuls, her waist small, her buttocks tight and
muscular, her legs slim, her pubic mound hairless.  In short, she was
purpose-built, quite literally, to derive arousal from me.  In turn, my
body was telling her just how successful she was in her ambition.

She looked on my erection and smiled, then turned to Clodagh.
'Mother', she asked, 'I cannot fly in this form.  Would you prepare
my Chosen?'  She then turned back to me and said, 'This won't harm
you.  It's just a necessary change to your body.'

Clodagh did her own little dance while I looked down on myself to
see what the result would be.  I wondered briefly.  A bigger dick?
Or maybe a set of washboard abs?  Then I realised that the elder
fairy had finished her dance, and that it appeared that nothing had
changed, except that I had a curiously warm feeling in my lower
abdomen.  My erection felt stronger than ever, so I supposed it had
something to do with that.

I looked at Moire.  I wanted to take her immediately.  She said as if
in answer, 'Many times, my Chosen.  As many times as we possibly
can.  The more of your seed that I can cajole from you, the longer I
will be sustained.'

It sounded like a program to me.  I took her face in my hands and
kissed her, deeply and long.  It lasted for a minute or so, then she
pulled away, grinned, and slowly brought herself down to her knees.
She grasped my cock in one hand and started to move her fingers
along the length of it.  She knew just exactly how to apply the right
amount of pressure with her fingers; it was feeling very good indeed.
Then she opened her mouth and engulfed me.  Her lips closed on the
shaft, applying gentle, tantalizing suction, and her tongue slid on the
underside of it.

I breathed in deeply, sharply.  I was getting a blowjob from out of
some carnal legend of antiquity.  For a creature that went around
most of the time without any genitalia, Moire was an utterly superb
fellatrix.  I started to groan.  She was deep-throating me, those lips
of hers right up against my pelvic bone.  I wanted this to last so
badly; hell, I wanted a movie of it I could take home to keep me
warm on lonely nights; but I wasn't getting either.  Moire was
determined to make me cum.  She was slurping and sucking along
the length of my shaft, back and forth, adding a little extra suction
when her lips met my glans.

She must have tasted the precursor to ejaculation coming from me,
because I could swear she was purring as I panted.  She started
sucking just on the end, and fisting the length of my shaft, pumping
as she sucked.  I closed my eyes and let go, crying out inarticulately
in utter pleasure.  While I came, she kept me in her mouth, drinking
up every last spurt of my seed.  I was almost sobbing as she licked
me clean and finally withdrew her mouth from my cock.  Then she
winked, grinned, and swallowed my load.  As she swallowed, she
shuddered as if having an orgasm herself.

'Mmm', she breathed, 'Your ecstasy is so... pure.'

I didn't answer. I couldn't.  I was still reeling.

'Ohhh', she continued,  'It feels so good.  It is the feeling of being
charged with life... so good.'  She was practically glowing with
vitality.

'I bet you say that to all the guys', I replied.  She shook her head.

'No.  It is seldom, if ever, as good as this.  I did indeed choose
wisely.  I wish there was some way I could properly reward you.'

Was she joking, or what?  I was about to ask her when the odd
feeling came over me.  My body was acting strangely.  I could still
feel the familiar post-coital tingle in my loins, but there was
something else.

I could have sworn that I was ready to ejaculate again, as much as
before.  I could feel - almost hear - my prostate filling up.  I couldn't
decide if it was exciting or frightening, so I compromised by
laughing nervously.  It seemed that Moire was going to get her
money's worth- and then some.

Then I was distracted again by Clodagh, flying near me.  'There is
something I can do to express a mother's gratitude', she started.  'I
can only have very slight influence on your world, but there is
something I can affect.'  She paused, seeking my attention, and then
realising she had it, she continued.  'Your friend carries your unborn
daughter in her womb.'

Linda.  She was talking about Linda.  My... daughter?

'Your child is unformed, and able to be affected by my influence.  I
give her my blessing, and this is no small thing.  Your child shall
have beauty, grace and wit.  She will be healthy and strong, and take
the best aspects of both her parents.'

'In other words', I said, 'she'll be the image of her mother.'  We
looked on each other.  Our eyes met, we both grinned, and I knew
that Clodagh was as good as her word.  Then I fully realised the
value of her gift, and I breathed, 'Thank you.'

'It is I who thank you, O man, and now I will take my leave of you
both.  Look after him, my child, and farewell.'

Then she was gone.
 
 

*****
 

Moire was on her hands and knees, urging me on with obscene and
inventive  imprecations learned who knows where as I fucked her
roughly, dog-fashion.  Need I say, her pussy felt incredibly silky,
moist and tight?  Of course it did!  I knew by know that she could
read my mind, or at least the part concerned with desire, so
everything about her was perfectly made to satisfy me.  Her
knowledge of me and her shape-shifting ability made it so.

She wasn't much for foreplay, though.  She wanted sex, pure and
simple, and she wasn't much concerned about how long each act
took.  I laughed to myself.  She was using me.  Boo hoo, my feelings
were hurt.  Like hell.  I was a male slut and loving it.

I grasped her hips harder, and thrust hard and deep into her, making
us both gasp.  I went faster, knowing I was near to orgasm, and
whispered to her, 'How do you like that, you horny little bitch?'

She responded in kind.  'Yesss... fuck me harder... oh!  yes,
HARDER, you fucking bastard, cum in me... cum in me... now.'

Sure enough, on the word 'now', I came inside her with a
tremendous surge.  I shouted, cursed, and shook as I spewed my
load into her.  She shrieked with her own pleasure, which was, I was
sure, not your actual orgasm but instead, the feeling of being fed
new life.

I stayed inside her for a minute or so after my orgasm; then we
separated and lay near each other.  I held her, and once again I could
feel that my body was ready to go another round.

'You swear like a sailor', I said, pleased. I liked women who were
'verbal' in bed. 'I suppose you learn a few things in a thousand years.'

'My Chosen, it all comes from you.  From that delightfully obscene,
inventive mind of yours, where I can see so many pleasures you wish
to explore with me.'

Uh-oh.  Busted.  Up till then I was strictly  'MF, Cons', but, after all,
Moire wasn't human, so what we were doing was, strictly speaking ,
bestiality.  So, I'd blown it already. Why not get some more 'story
codes' into the mix?  Why not indeed.  It wasn't like there were
going to be any hurt feelings or other consequences, after all.

I held her down, her back to me, and wet a finger with saliva.  I
probed her anus, and said, 'This might hurt', in a mock-menacing
tone.  She squealed in anticipation.
 

*****

Well, it went on for quite a while.  I took her anally.  Curious to see
if she was fully functional, I ate her bald pussy, to find that she was
quite satisfactorily orgasmic.  I lay back and let her ride me.  We
screwed standing up, sitting down, and lying down.  I stopped
counting after the first ten ejaculations, and I was going just as
strong as  I was before the first.  I was a perpetual motion sex
machine, the envy of porn stars everywhere;  no fatigue, no soreness,
no limit to the semen supply.  I had no real feeling for Moire, not
love like I had for Laura, at least, but that was okay.  From fearing
and hating Moire, I'd come to like her.  She'd only been trying to
survive, like we all do, and it was quite pleasant after all.

The only disturbing thing was that the tingling feeling in my loins
was building with each new orgasm, and that my chest seemed to be
getting a little tight; not physically, you understand, but emotionally.
It wasn't unbearable, or even unpleasant yet, but it was different to
my normal experience.  I had to keep an eye on it.

I decided I wanted to make Moire helpless and tantalize her body,
but the landscape, of course, was devoid of anything I could use.
Once again, Moire answered my unspoken question.  'Remember
what you did before to heal me', she said.  'In this place, your blood
gives you power.'

'So', I answered, 'if I desire something enough, I'll get it?'

She nodded.  'Try.'

I closed my eyes and imagined what I wanted.  The picture in my
mind's eye took shape and form.  After a moment, I opened my eyes.
Several lengths of what appeared to be raw silk were there for me,
as well as a convenient, sturdy tree.

Too cool.   I bound the smiling Moire to the tree, blindfolded her,
and teased her mercilessly until she screamed her release.
 

*****
 

We'd gone another round or so, and then Moire decided that
turnabout was fair play.  The tree and the silk bindings were still
there, so she tied me to the tree just as I'd tied her.

She'd done a good job with the blindfold.  I couldn't see a thing, and
it wasn't for want of trying.  Something was happening... it was like
a feathery touch along the length of my cock.  It wasn't her fingers,
and it wasn't her tongue.  It was tentative, then insistent, teasing,
then gripping.  The texture of it didn't change... it was still that odd,
feathery sensation.  Whatever it was, it was going to bring me off
again quickly.  The many orgasms I'd had had done nothing to
reduce my sensitivity; if anything, that had increased instead.

This was driving me nuts.  My curiosity was getting the better of me.

'Moire', I called, 'I want to see what you're doing, babe.  Take the
blindfold off me, please.'

'No fucking way', she laughed.

Okay, Miss Smarty-Bitch, I thought, we'll just see.  I tried to close
myself off to the pleasure running through me enough to concentrate
on making the blindfold disappear.  It wasn't easy, but I managed it,
feeling the silk vanish off my face, then seeing again.

Moire was still a full sized human, but she had her wings back, and
with her back to me, she was using them to milk my cock.  They
were prehensile.  She had perfect control over them, and their tips
were caressing me like the finest fingertips.

To think I'd threatened to tear them off.   The sight, combined with
the feeling, and the kink factor, gave me probably my biggest orgasm
of the whole session.  I moaned. I sobbed.  I came like a volcano
over her wings and back, making her shudder again in a familiar
paroxysm all her own.

I slumped, only the bindings holding me up.  My heart was
palpitating.  I was wheezing.  My skin was tingling all over, like pins
and needles.  I felt like there was a huge clutching hand in my chest,
and emotionally, I was in turmoil.  Obviously, something was very
wrong.   I fought to catch my breath.

Moire walked up to me and touched my face.  'It is time for you to
return, my Chosen.  It would be dangerous for us to continue.'

I didn't want it to end.  I was addicted.  And there was something
left for us to do that we hadn't yet done.

'Once more', I asked.

'I can feel the storm building in your soul, my Chosen.  While I can
keep your body  able and safe, your inner self is something I cannot
touch.  There's a limit to how much ecstacy you can feel in a short
time before you just... fray.  I owe you too much to let you be
harmed like that.'

'My name's George', I observed.  'And just how long have I given
you so far?'

She smiled.  'Centuries.  By the time I need further sustenance, your
people may have exterminated themselves.'

'So... I'll never see you again?'

'Perhaps in your dreams.'

'Then I'm begging you.  One more time.  There's something that I'm
so curious about... something I'll only ever get this one chance to
experience, and you can do it for me.  Please.  You owe me.'

'Your sense of self is extraordinarily strong.  You should be able to
weather one more.  But I can't read your desire, such is your current
state.  What do you want?

'Can't you guess?  You turned me into a woman before.  I want to
know what it's like.  Make me a woman.  Then make love to me.'

'No.  That would be too hazardous to your psyche.  You nearly lost
yourself when I did it before, just at the threat of being penetrated.'

'That was different', I argued.  'I was panicking.  I was about to be
raped.  I was afraid.  Here and now, I'm safe.  I'm comfortable.
Please... I just want to know.'

Somehow I talked her into it.  She turned back into a fairy and
started flying around, and I felt myself changing.  As I became
smaller, the silk bindings reacted as though alive, keeping me bound
tight to the tree.

'Can... can I see myself?'

Moire gestured, and the mist in front of me turned solid and
reflective, and I could see the damsel in distress that I'd become.

My hair was the same colour, a very dark brown.  My eyes were the
same; a dark, deep blue.  Otherwise, I was unrecognizable.  As a
man, my looks were average.  As a woman, I was sensational.
'Is this... what I looked like before?'  Moire nodded.

No wonder male Laura couldn't resist me.  I looked at Moire, and
saw that she was shifting her own shape.  I gasped as the fairy
became Adonis.  My new body was reacting to the sight.  I could
feel the fist starting to form in my chest again.

He was beautiful, and he was kissing me... caressing me.  I closed
my eyes, but I couldn't stop a pair of tears forming tracks down my
cheeks.  He untied me, but I was still helpless in his arms.  Slowly he
lowered me to the 'ground'.

He splayed me, opened me, and I was in turmoil.  Part of me was
ashamed, the rest wanted to beg for his cock.  I couldn't talk,
couldn't think, and I knew I'd made a terrible mistake.  The essential
'me' was drowning in a female ocean.  I was fraying, just as Moire
had predicted.

Then he was inside me, fucking me gently and slowly, and it was so
good, and so bad, and so much I couldn't... couldn't hold... my...
thoughts.  I was splintering; the 'me' was like a shattered raft trying
to ride out a storm.

I went away.  From a tremendous distance, I heard myself crying
uncontrollably.  Then I felt a hand on my cheek, gentle and warm,
and a voice whispering,  'Farewell... George.'
 
 

1 January 2001.  Early morning.  Sydney, Australia.
 

I sat up with a start.  My mouth was wide open in a silent cry.  I was
hyperventilating.  I was covered in sweat which I knew was only
partly due to the heat.

A dream.  A nightmare.  Had to be.  Didn't it?

I stood and ran out of the bedroom.  I was already starting to forget
details.  I had to write this up.  It was too important to lose.  I had to
write it up.
 

2 January 2001.  0845.  Sydney, Australia.
 

I knocked at Laura's office door.  It was ajar.  Laura was working on
something.

'Oh, hi, George.  I'm really busy right now... can it wait?'

'No.  There's something I've got to tell you.  It's very important.'

The door closed behind me with a slight, definite click.
 

THE END
 

Written Jan-Feb 2001.  Completed 9th February 2001.

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