It was early Saturday evening. It was quiet... very quiet... too damn quiet at The Blind Pig. I'd been coming here for weeks, ever since I'd contracted the Martian Flu - ever since I'd become a SCAB. I'd never seen this place so quiet.

Its almost too quiet to relax. On my other visits, I've always managed to relax... to be myself.

That is, such as I am now. I'd decided long ago that being taller wasn't bad. And above the waist, I was more or less pretty much the same. A little hairier maybe, and probably a few more muscles. My ears were furry and pointed. I haven't changed enough to be unrecognizable to my friends - its just that none of them calls me friend anymore.

Below the waist is a different story. My legs are strong and muscular, and covered with fur - there was no mistaking it for hair. And it had taken some time to get adjusted to walking on hooves.

When I look in the mirror that hangs behind the bar, I see Pan look back. It isn't that I think of myself as a Greek god. Not at all. Not even close. It is just that look -- human body (more or less) supported on goat's legs. Although, I'll be the first to admit that I've never seen nor heard of any seven-foot satyrs.

As I mentioned, the bar is quiet. I am the only patron, Donnie is tending bar, and Edwina is waiting tables. Six months ago, I'd have never believed that this gorgeous buxom woman could have ever possibly been male. But then six months ago, I'd been a "norm" and almost totally ignorant of the effects of the Martian flu. Once you're infected though, once you become a SCAB, then its really easy to believe almost anything.

I consider Edwina a friend, although sometimes I wish... No, it'd never happen, so I won't waste time dwelling on it.

Edwina had seemed awfully shy the first night she worked at the bar, but she is becoming more outgoing all the time. I guess it takes time to adjust to being a woman.

As I sit at the table, I remember back to a time, before I knew she used to be a guy. I'd come into the bar after a really bad day, ready to chew nails. Before I could order, Edwina had come up (actually snuggled up might be more appropriate) to me and said the following words, that I just might remember forever.

"Hi handsome. You happy to see me tonight, or are you carrying around a two-by-four under all that fur?"

The bar roared.

I blushed red enough to make the traffic light outside pale in comparison.

But it made me feel better. Isn't that one of the reasons for having friends?

That was also the night, just before closing, that she took me aside and told me she used to be a guy. And that she was only interested in other women. What a shame, but that's life - her life, that is. I wouldn't think of forcing her to do anything she doesn't want to do. That's another definition of a friend, isn't it?

But she did miss my "two-by-four" in action. Its the only real plus I gained in becoming a SCAB. But then again, it tended to intimidate some women.

I look up as the door opens.

She walks in.

Call me fickle, but she makes Edwina look like an underdeveloped boy. Lust quickly sets in, and I find myself quickly shifting positions in my chair. I can only hope she hadn't seen the table tip to one side.

She orders a drink, then looks around the almost empty bar. Our eyes meet. I smile. She smiles back. She starts towards my table. I'll bet my "two-by-four" is smiling.

"Hello." I say as she arrives at my table. "My name's Bill. What's a 'norm' fox like you doing in a bar like this?" Instantly, I'm ashamed that I've used this old and corny pick up line.

Not seeming to notice the old line she replies in a seductive voice "How did you know?"

"What?"

"That I was a fox once. Oh... and by the way, I'm not a 'norm.' I'm a SCAB just like you, more or less. You can call me Amber. I'm a shapeshifter."

"But I thought shapeshifters were rare, almost non-existent ..."

"We are. At least those among us who gain that ability as a result of contracting the Martian flu are rare. I'm different, maybe rarer still. After my first exposure to the flu, I transformed into a simple run-of-the-mill insectoid creature. I think I went mad and turned to a life of crime. When I was caught, I was given a simple choice - a jail cell or the laboratory. I chose to become a lab experiment - the odds of survival were better."

"Obviously, the experiment was a success." I said, as I continued to stare at her. "Just what were they trying to do."

"They were working on a cure for the flu. Not just a vaccine, a real cure. If it worked, then the innoculated SCAB would revert to a 'norm.' But the experiment didn't work out as they expected. When I was injected, I didn't revert. In fact, I didn't change at all, but I did get very sick for about a week. As I recovered, I found I could morph into just about anything I wanted to, just by willing it.

"But they weren't finished with the experiment yet. The next 'cure' attempt apparently interacted with the first. As a result, I no longer had direct control of my morphing ability. I couldn't change unless one of the doctors told me what to change into.

"Afer a while, one of the doctors took me home. He told me that I was a woman, that I had always been a woman, that I would always think and act like a woman. I knew what he told me was true, even if it hadn't been before. I couldn't remember being anything else, so it didn't really matter. He then told me, that he was my master, that I was his slave, that this had always been, and always would be, our relationship. And I knew that this was true as well."

"I am shocked by this story." I tell her. "How can you sit here so calmly and tell me these things, and not even try to escape. This must be an incredibly difficult ordeal for you. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I cannot escape, or even think about escape." she replies. "I cannot act contrary to the desires of my master. Most of the time, I do not remember any of things I've told you - only on special days am I permitted to remember. I bear no burden.

"Some days, I am not even human. If my master tells me that I am a collie bitch, then I become a collie bitch. If he tells me that I am in heat, then I am receptive to any male dog and could be impregnated.

"And, yes. You can help me tonight. My master has told me that I am a whore. He has told me that I exude femininity and sex appeal. He has told that that anything I want is mine. He has told me that any man I desire is mine, just by saying...

"I want your body."

The rush that flows through my body is electric. Everything she has told me has become unimportant and vanished from my conscious thoughts. Only lust is present. Lust is paramount. Lust for her controls my actions.

I reach out to her and stroke her hair.

We stand. I put my arm around her waist. As we exit the Blind Pig, I turn towards her. I pull her near. I kiss her on the lips, as lust and passion continue to grow without bound.

Without warning, I black out.

When I wake, she is still near, but I don't know where we are. But I know I'm not at the Blind Pig. And there is a man I don't recognize. I can't remember anything past the kiss. What the hell is going on?

"You were just perfect, mister satyr man." she says to me. "I've never had a better or a longer lay in my whole life. Its a shame, we won't be able to have a repeat performance in the bed just like it."

I think I see a tear trickle down her cheek. I am confused.

Turning to the man she added, "I told you he'd be perfect master."

"Yes, you did Amber. You'll be rewarded if every thing works out." says the stranger.

I try to get up, but can't. I feel dizzy and light-headed. I haven't been sick since I'd become a satyr, but I sure as hell was making up for it now. I lay back, hoping my head would clear.

I hear the man tell her "You will not remember this satyr. You will not remember being the woman who made love to him. You will not remember ever being named Amber."

"Yes, master." she says in her seductive voice.

"You will resume your base form, an attractive teenage girl. You are once again my daughter, Missy."

"Yes, daddy." I heard her voice say.

I strain to open my eyes and then watch her flow into her new form. She can't be more than than sixteen now. She's pretty, but she's certainly not her.

"It's time for you to go home, Missy."

"Yes, daddy." she repeats, but in a voice that unmistakably belongs to the teenage girl she now appears to be.

The stranger turns to me.

"Now its your turn." he tells me.

He picks up a syringe from the table next to the bed I'm in. I try again to get up, but still can't rise.

He injects its contents into my arm.

I feel dizzy... very strange...

And then the blackness returns.

When I wake up, I'm still stretched out on the bed. I'm not restrained at all. This both surprises and frightens me. I try to get up and can't, but the attempt makes enough noise to be heard by my captor.

"Ah, you're awake." he says as he moves towards the bed.

"Who are you? What is Amber? Why are you doing this to me?"

And in my confusion and anger I reach out at his throat and watch my arm stretch out several feet while my fingers lenghten.

"Oops. I nearly forgot." he says to me. "You cannot morph unless I tell you to change and I alone control what you change into."

My arm stops stretching. I try to make it stretch more and can't. I try to return my arm and fingers to normal and can't.

But when he tells me "Return your arm and fingers to normal," they do. I am growing more afraid.

"Who I am is unimportant. It's sufficient to say that I am a doctor. I was working on discovering a cure for the after-effects of the Martian flu. Instead, I found a couple of formulae, which are much more useful. The people I was working for at the time failed to recognize the advantages of these formulae, so I changed employers.

"My new employers don't really care how many SCABS die to perfect the formulae. But they do appreciate how the formulae can be used to their advantage.

"The first results in a restructuring of a very small percentage of already infected SCABS. About one in million become full morphs. Another one out of a hundred, I'd guess, are totally unaffected. The rest die horribly.

"The second makes the newly created morph SCAB totally incapable of disobeying ANY order from the person who gives him his first order.

"You had the first formula passed to you, when you made love to Amber. When I created her form and personality, which were incidentally intended to incite your passions, I made her a carrier of a new veneral disease. The virus produces the first formula as a waste product. I assume you did notice being ill when you woke up before. And the shot I gave you when you woke the first time contained the second formula."

"That's bullshit." I say, more defiantly than I actually feel.

"Oh, really? How about another demonstration? I know, your male organ. You seem to be very proud of its large size. In some circles, its been described as a 'two-by-four,' if I'm not mistaken."

"Yeah, so what."

"I believe it's unnecessary." he says. Then he adds "You have female genitalia."

My crotch feels funny. As I reach down, I can't find my penis or my scrotum - their gone. All my fingers find is a damp slit.

"Why me?" I ask in shock.

"You were a compromise to our plans. We weren't really interested in you at all. We were, and in fact still are, interested in Edwina, the waitress at the Blind Pig. You may not know it, but she is extremely powerful. In fact, she's a statistical abnormality. According to everything we know about the Martian flu, she shouldn't be capable of doing half the things she does. But then, that's statistics for you."

"So you're interested in Edwina. That still doesn't answer my question."

"I'm was getting to that. As a side effect of the first treatment, Amber, as are you hopefully, can look at a person and determine if that person can survive the treatment. Amber, as a different person, of course, took one look at Edwina and determined that the treatment would kill her. As you should guess, that was unacceptable to us. At least for the time being. We needed a new plan. And then you entered the bar.

"I was going to place Amber in the bar as a waitress and let her get to know Edwina, if you know what I mean. It messed up my other plans, but Edwina was more important. That's where you come in. I'm going to use you to keep an eye on Edwina. Hopefully, you'll be able to get her to join our side."

"But Edwina isn't going to let me get that close to her. She used to be a guy, and doesn't let herself get involved with guys."

"Yeah, I know. But then, Amber used to be a guy, a long, long time ago." he smiled evilly. "Go and stand in front of the mirror."

I stand up with no difficulty and walk over to the mirror.

"You will retain your satyr form, but your upper body is that of a gorgeous and buxom female."

As I stare into the mirror, my body changes. My legs stay covered by goat's fur, but they appear less muscular. more slender. My hips widen, as my waist contracts. Each side of my chest begins to inflate. The dark hair on my head now rests on my shoulder. My beard disappears, as if it had never been. A girl, who could be my sister, is reflected in the glass of the mirror.

"Not exactly what I had in mind." he says, then adds the commands, "You have 44DD breasts. Your hair is sandy blond and reaches down to cover your breasts. Your face radiates femininity and does not remotely resemble your former male face."

As he has commanded, it becomes. I feel my breasts expand. I watch my hair become sandy blond and flow down over my breasts. My face itches as the bones re-arrange. The body reflected in the mirror is extremely sexy. No one who ever knew me would recognize this body as me.

"And now," he says, "You should rest. You need to go to sleep. There are things that must be done before you wake again."

I turn away from the mirror.

I stagger clumsily to the bed.

I lay down, and blackness overtakes me once again.

When I wake again, I think I've been dreaming... How could these things really happen?

It's a thought that doesn't last long. I move my hand to my chest, and cup the large breast there. As I sit up, I feel my long hair come to rest both on my back and across my breasts. A long strand of blond hair has fallen across my face.

This is no dream.

I stand up and walk to the mirror. As I stand in awe of my reflection, I realize I'd walked gracefully, almost femininely, to stand in front of the mirror. As I stare, I begin to pose. "Stop that." I think.

"Awake once again, I see." says the doctor as he enters the room.

"Yeah. I'm awake, for all the good it's going to do you."

"You'll be surprised." He grins. "But we really must do something about that gruff masculine voice. I know. You have a soft, sultry feminine voice that oozes sex appeal."

"What are..."

I stop. My voice has changed. I sound like a whore.

"Much better. Your new voice really goes much better with your body. Don't you agree?"

"I guess so." I sulkily reply. "But its not going to help you at all. I'm not going to help you. I'm not a girl, and I don't want to be a girl. And you can't make me."

"You are stubborn, aren't you? Oh, very well, then." He looks at me for few seconds, then says "You have always wanted to be a girl, even when you were a young boy. When you transformed after catching the Martian flu, you were extremely delighted to become a female satyr, even though there had never been a female satyr before. You are very sexy. You are not overly concerned about anything. But you do want to help us in our mission, whatever and whenever it is. Don't you?"

"Yes, I want to help." I answer, trying hard to suppress a giggle.

"Pick a female name for yourself. Tell me your name."

"My name is Linda."

"Excellent. Linda, this is your base form. It is your true and natural form. Anytime you are told to become "Linda," this is the form and personality you will assume."

"Yes." I respond.

Just then, the door opens.

Another female satyr enters. I thought I was the only one. She has long flaming red hair, but I'm prettier and better endowed than she is. She's no competition and can be ignored.

I hear the new female tell the doctor "It's all set. I, or rather she, has a job waiting tables at the Blind Pig."

"Very good." says the doctor.

He walks over to me. "Linda," he says. "Become the physical double of the female standing over there."

I change. We are now identical twins, although I find it hard to believe that he would want me to look like her.

He looks back at her. "Missy, resume your base form."

I watch in amazement as my "twin" becomes a teenage "norm" girl. I don't remember ever seeing this change before.

"Go to your room, Missy."

"Yes, daddy."

Then the doctor returns his attention to me.

"Your name is Lanara. You are female. You have always been female. You are sexually attracted to other women, but will not hesitate to bed a man, if it becomes necessary. You are a waitress at the Blind Pig. While you sleep, more information will be supplied to you. Now, Lanara. Sleep."

I slump to the bed, asleep before my head hits the pillow.

When I wake, I'm in my bedroom.

I get out of bed and walk to the mirror. I strike a seductive pose, and smile at my reflection.

"Lanara," I say out loud. "You're one hell of a fox." I chuckle at my joke. "Well, fox from the waist up."

I comb my red hair and apply my makeup.

I look at myself in the mirror. I know this face, and this body, will excite the men at the Blind Pig. Its a shame I won't be interested, but I grew up a homely girl that the boys wouldn't even talk to. And the Martian virus built off that. The homely girl became gorgeous. The girl who couldn't get a boy to talk to her, became the woman who couldn't care less if a man spoke to her.

I hope to get a chance to speak to Edwina tonight. She's beautiful, and I hope that another woman coming on to her won't bother her. I hope she won't be upset, if I offer to share my bed with her.

Oh, well. We'll see.

Website Copyright 2004,2005 Michael Bard.  Please send any comments or questions to him at mwbard@transform.com