THE TALE OF JET & QUARTZ

By: Darian Deamos

 

Chapter Two: Live Strong

 

 

Dan and Sam walked down into their living room, and into a storm.  A storm of confetti.  There was a big sign up in the rafters, saying ‘WELCOME BACK!’ and Brian and Diane were standing on either side of the door with noisemakers, blowing them into the twins’ ears.  If they could have, they would have blushed.

“Um, thanks?” Sam muttered, feeling suddenly and unaccountably self-conscious.  If she could have blushed, she would have.

Dan just shrugged, and hit a button on the wall, making a small robot vacuum roll out of its little house and start vacuuming up the confetti.  Walking to the couch, she said, “If you’re throwing us a party, there had better be cake.  Lots and lots of cake.”  And she plopped her chalky white ass onto the couch.

Diane looked surprised.  “What, no griping about the indignity of being female?  Dave griped for weeks when MORFS turned her into Lilly.  No self-indulgent moping?”  She looked genuinely disappointed.

Sam clapped her on the shoulder and laughed, a fine, clear laugh, like but very unlike her old deep chuckle.  “Would you rather we acted like twelve-year olds?  What’s the point?  It happened.  We’re female, we’ll deal.  It’s not like we’re crippled or anything.”

Brian laughed at that, and the three of them joined Dan on the couch, with Sam sitting next to her, and Brian and Diane sitting across from them on the other couch.  “So,” Brian asked, “You don’t mind at all that you’ve joined the fairer sex.”

Dan and Sam both shrugged.  “Yeah I mind,” Dan said, “But what’s the point of getting mad.  It’s not going to accomplish anything.  There’s no-one to blame, and nothing to be done.  We’re female now, and there’s no changing it.  So I live with it, half the world is female, more or less, and they get along fine.”

Sam chimed in, “It’s a bit of a shock, and it’ll take some getting used to, sure as hell, but we’ll cope.  Just don’t try to put me in a dress.”

Dan laughed suddenly, “It doesn’t hurt that we’re hot.”

Sam joined her sister’s laugh.  “Point.  Hella point.”

Dan looked around suddenly, “Cake, we were promised cake.”

Diane laughed and got up, “I’ll go get the cake.”

Brian looked at them.  “You’re both handling this remarkably well, all things considered.”

Sam suddenly looked serious, and concern colored her voice, “No, we’re joking about the parts we can live with.”

Brian suddenly looked grim.  “So you don’t have to think about the consequences.”

Dan nodded, equally grim, “Yup, so stop bringing it up, and let’s laugh about boobs.  Compared to the rest of it, boobs are neato.”  She grinned, but everyone knew it was a mask.

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence, and then Diane burst into the room with the cake.  It was a full sheet cake, molded to look like a naked woman, with icing half black, half white.  Its proportions were exaggerated, and it was remarkably lifelike, in an obscene pose with legs spread, and hands reaching into the crotch.  There were two candles sticking right out of the woman’s vagina, burning merrily.  Diane rolled the cart she had the cake on up to the girls, and presented it with a flourish.  “Ta. Da.  Your cake, madams.” Everyone present broke out into laughter.

Dan grinned, “How did you manage this?”

Sam was laughing, “That is so neat.  I call black boob.”

Dan laughed, “Then I get the white one.”

Brian chimed in, “And since I’m the only one here without one, I call the pussy.  It’s got cream filling.”  He grinned lewdly.

Everyone broke into laughter, and before wax got onto the cake, Dan blew out the candles.  They all got their cake, and true enough the crotch was cream filled.  But much to the delight of the twins, so were the breasts.  They carved up the pastry woman, and began to consume their treat.  There was some time spent in indulgent and contented silence, as they all forgot the weighty and pressing matters hanging over their heads, and instead, had boob cake.  There are times when, no matter what’s happening, you can always smile, and they all discovered that boob cake was one of them.

 

Finally, the cake was gone, most of it having gone into the ravenous mouths of the twins, who discovered that they had a nearly unlimited appetite.  “Damn,” whispered Diane,“ where are you two putting it all,” as Sam split what was left of the cake into two pieces and gave one of the two to Dan.

Dan accepted her cake and shrugged, “Our boobs?”  This elicited another laugh from those assembled, and then she continued more seriously, “No, I think it’s an effect of our new bodies.  I’m not actually hungry, not really, but I never seem to get really full.  I think I’m finally getting close though.”

Brian shook his head, “No, I think it’s a reaction to finally being off of the medication.  Your bodies need things that aren’t energy packs.  I remember being ravenous after I woke up when I finished MORFS.”  He got a thoughtful look on his face, “but you may have an accelerated metabolism.  That would account for why you’re so hungry.”

“You mean we’re always going to be starving?”  Sam looked shocked.

Brian shook his head, “No, I just think you’re going to have appetites as bad as your old ones.  Don’t go buying girly sized meals if you want more.  Eat what fills you up.”

“Which,“ Diane chimed in, “was lots of naked chick, in this case.”

They all laughed.  Then Dan got a serous look on her face.  “Alright, enough goofing around.  We’ve got problems, and it’s time to deal with them.”

Suddenly, everyone’s expression sobered.  Sam nodded, “Right.  So, where do we start?”

Diane sat down, and looked troubled.  “I don’t know.  There’s so much to deal with…”

Dan nodded.  “Right.  We’ve got so much looming over our heads that it looks unsolvable.  But there’s a simple way to deal with this.  Old programming trick.  Take the problem, and break it into smaller problems, then break those into smaller problems, until we have everything down to its components.  Then we work on those, and the bigger ones take care of themselves.”

Diane and Sam looked unconvinced, but Brian nodded.  “Yeah, that’s a really good idea.  Let’s break this down.  We’re going to need paper.”

“And a pen,” Dan nodded.  “Look in the top drawer for writing crap, and how about this for paper.”  And so saying, she grabbed the crumb covered piece of parchment that the cake had been resting on and whipped it out, sending crumbs flying, and the little robo-vac scurrying to clean them all up.  She spread the paper out onto the low table between the two couches, and took the large marker from Brian as he returned.  In large bold letters she wrote ‘PROBLEM’ on the top of the page.  “All right,” she looked at the other three, her gaze locking on each of them in turn, “What, exactly, are our problems.”

Sam immediately chimed in. “Father.”  Dan wrote ‘FATHER’ down, and drew a line connecting it to problem.

Brian pointed out, “Your gender,” and Dan wrote down ‘FEMALE’ on the sheet.

Diane looked at them and said, “The way you look”, and ‘APPERANCE’ went down on the sheet.

Sam looked at her hands, “Our powers, if we have any.”  This time it was ‘POWERS?’ that went on the paper.

Dan looked around, “Anything else?  No?  Alright, that’s about what I got too, so good.  Now, we break this down.”  She looked down onto the paper.  “Right now, I can think of two of these that we really aren’t going to be able to do anything about.  Powers and appearance.  We aren’t going to be able to change the way we look, and trying to hide it isn’t going to work.  We’ll just have to run with it.  I mean, how do you hide a six foot tall white woman.  Aside from as statuary, which I am unwilling to imitate for long.”  This last in response to a look from Sam, as a preemptive strike.

Sam looked glum, “I don’t know, cover up as much as possible, and wear sunglasses?  Hooded sweatshirts?”

Dan looked thoughtful at that, but then Diane broke in.

“Why hide it at all.  I mean, it’s obvious you can’t, so don’t.  Flaunt it.  Wear the shades, but do it with a haircut, some flashy clothes, the right wardrobe.  You know, play it up.  You could look so, so, cool!”

Dan looked stunned, and Sam outraged.  Sam stepped in before she could start describing outfits.  “Because we’re freaks!  That’s why.  We look like freaks.  Who would associate with us, looking like this?”

Brian cut her off at that, “Me for one.”  He looked at them.  “Do you two really think you look like freaks?”

Sam looked ashamed, and Dan took a deep breath.  “Well, yeah, I mean, we hardly look normal.  Look at us.  Yeah we look good, but people don’t look like us.  We don’t look like people, we look like things.”

Diane and Brian shared a look. “Look at me you two,” Diane was insistent.  “You are people.  Don’t ever doubt that.  Everyone who sees you will see two beautiful and exotic women, and not two things.  Everyone who’s worth knowing anyways.”

Brian looked at them, “Do you think I’m not a person?”

Diane looked shocked, and Sam looked ashamed.  Dan spoke up, “Well, no, of course not.  But we’re exceptions, we know you.  Most people, seeing a guy on the street, who looked like you, would think animal, right?”

Brian looked sad, and Diane shocked.  “NO!” Diane screeched.  “People like your FATHER maybe, but most people would see someone who had MORFS and got wings.  Just as much a person as me.  Or you.”  She looked at them pointedly.

“Guys, you have to realize that the vast majority of people aren’t like your father,” Brian’s voice was calm and insistent.  “You need to trust me on this.  Most people are decent, upright human beings, irregardless of what they look like.  Most people have had at least one family member go through MORFS, and they’re understanding.  They know that no matter what you look like, you’re still human under it all.  The imbeciles like your father are just a very small, extraordinarily loud minority.”

Dan took a deep breath.  “Ok, so, what, we just ignore what we look like?”

Sam’s only comment was a snort that spoke volumes

Diane shook her head.  “Don’t ignore how you look.  Take pride in it.  You two are unique, you know.  I’ve never heard of anyone reacting to MORFS quite this way.  Especially not twins having the reaction you did.  Take pride in it, don’t be ashamed of it.”

Sam shook her head.  “I know what you’re saying.  It’s just that thinking like that feels so wrong.  It’s just…” she trailed off in frustration.

Brian looked at them, sudden pity in his expression.  “It’s just that everything you’ve ever been told has said just the opposite.  I understand.  I really do.  You just have to keep reminding yourselves that it’s not wrong to look like you do.”

Dan nodded, and looked at her hand.  “Right.  I hear you.  We can do this.  It’s just a confidence thing.  Like going out on the field.  Can’t let a big scary opposing team scare you into never taking the field.”

Sam nodded, looking glum.  “Yeah, but can we take it slow?”

Diane looked at them.  “Sure, you have a lot to get used to; just don’t try to hide what you are.  It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Dan sighed.  “Right, so, solution for that, two parts then.  One, acceptance, and two, self confidence.  Simple enough. In theory.  The practice isn’t going to be fun.”

Sam groaned, and nodded her agreement, “Damn right.  Next?”

“Next up,” Dan commented, “is Powers.”

Diane and Brian shared a look, then Brian spoke up, “Might as well tell them.”

Diane looked away, and the twins looked confused.  Brian pressed her, “They trusted us Diane, the least you can do is trust them back.”

Diane looked ashamed and embarrassed.  She looked at the twins, and softly spoke, “This doesn’t leave this room, all right?”

Both twins nodded.

Diane looked up, and slowly started to talk.  “I’ve lied to you guys.  I got MORFS when I was 10.  It gave me a power, two actually.”  Now that she was going, she started to speed up, becoming more animated.  “Only one of them really matters here.  I’m a telepath, but it’s really minor.  I have to be touching you, and there’s a lot of empathy mixed in.  Actually, I’m mostly an empath; the telepathy is the ride along.”  She looked really sheepish.

Dan nodded, puzzled, and then smiled slowly as something occurred to him.  “No wonder you’re such a nympho.  You use your empathy in bed.  You know exactly how your partner’s doing.  Manipulate things a little?”

Diane blushed.  “A little, yeah.  So?”

Sam laughed.  “So how did Brian find out about this?”

Diane looked down, and Brian was the one who answered.  “I saw her using her other power.”

Dan raised one delicately arched pale white eyebrow, and Diane blushed furiously.  “I’m a shape shifter.”  She sighed, and glared at Brian.  “Here, I’ll relax and go back to what I look like when I’m not using it.”  Suddenly, Diane rippled, and suddenly there was a woman with a dark tan, and violet hair, eyes, and lips.  She had the same basic body shape as Diane, save for a slightly smaller chest.  She spoke with Diane’s voice.  “This is what I really look like.  Happy now?”  She glared at Brian.

Dan was confused.  “You look good.  Exotic, and not quite as busty, but still, good.  Why hide it?”

Diane looked irritated, and closed her eyes for a moment.  “Because it’s so rare.  I like how I look, and yeah, I go out looking like this a lot.  Usually when I want to just be alone.”

Sam butted in, “Or when you wanted a little commitment free sex?”

Diane laughed.  “Or that, yeah.  The thing is, after a while, once the awe wears off, it becomes a novelty act.  I got a lot of flack for it.  ‘Diane, turn your hair blue’ ‘Diane, make your breasts bigger’ ‘Diane, turn into a black chick’ or any number of variations on that one.  I also got a lot of people trying to use it as an excuse.  You know, when the quarterback cheats on his girlfriend and gets caught, and runs, only to claim that it wasn’t really him, he was home doing homework, it must have been that shape shifter chick impersonating him.  Caused a lot of problems.  So when we moved here, I picked a perfectly normal shape,” she returned to her usual shape, “this one, and pretended that I had never gotten MORFS.  Now the point of this entire exercise was that, since I’m a telepath, sort of, I can get into your heads and look, see what powers you have.  I’ve done it before.”

Sam looked at her, then, sounding exasperated, “So what’s taking you so long?  Get over here.”

Diane laughed, and got up and walked over to Dan, “For that, you go second.”  She placed her hand on Dan’s forehead, and closed her eyes.  “Oh, god, fuck.” She dropped her hand and staggered back.  “Damn, that wasn’t fun.”

Dan looked at her, and moved to help her, and she jerked away.  “No, don’t touch me.  I don’t want to get sucked back in.”  Dan looked hurt, and she smiled.  “It’s nothing personal, it’s just you’ve got so much fear and concern running around in your head right now it’s actually painful.  Don’t worry.  Well, you definitely have powers.  Strong as hell, too.  Some kind of elementalisim, energy projection, but I’ve never seen the type before.  Safe to say, you throw energy blasts, but I wouldn’t try it now.  I have no idea just how you go about it, or what exactly you throw, or what it takes its power from.  You’ve got another two powers that I can’t quite figure out.  If I had to guess, it’s a variable physical enhancement, and some sort of damage shield.”  She turned to Sam.  “Now for you.”

Sam took a deep breath, and closed her eyes.  Diane moved over, and gritting her teeth, she placed her hand on Sam’s forehead.  She grimaced, then gasped, and drew her hand back as if it had been burned.  “Fuck.  Thanks for trying though.”  She shook her head.  “You’re both easier and harder.  Your sister, I know sorta what she can do, but have no idea of the specifics.  You, I know exactly what two of your abilities can do.  It’s the big one that I can’t identify.  You’ve got a huge ass power, and I have no idea what it does.  It’s a biggie, and it’s really rare, is all I can say.  The other two are simple.  You’re a minor precognitive, and an illusionist.  The precognition is only a few seconds in advance, a minute at most, but that’s still really fucking handy.  Especially on the football field.  Your other power is illusions, rather strong, but only visual, auditory, and olfactory.  And only within line of sight.  And no, I don’t know how you use them.

“The problem is,” Diane said as she sat down again, next to Brian, “that activating a power is rather individual.  I can tell you what you can do, and if I’ve seen someone with it before even how well, but I can’t tell you how to turn it on.  Sorry.  Oh, and I noticed something else while I was in your heads.  You’re linked to each other.  It’s subconscious, but if you can figure it out and develop the ability, it might be handy.  And, before I forget, you also both have the same power as Brian, only a lot less.  You won’t be able to fly with more than maybe a suitcase or two.”

Dan raised an eyebrow at that, “And Birdie can carry?”

Brian chuckled, “A tent, with 2 sleeping bags, a person, and all their assorted camping supplies.  We had had an interesting weekend.”

Sam shook her head, “I don’t wanna know.  So powers are dealt with.  We just gotta figure out how to use ‘em, then practice.  Easy peasy.  Next?”

Dan wrote down ‘Activation’ and ‘Control’ under powers, and circled them.  Then looked at the list.  “Next is father, not that we can control this one any.  We should at least discuss it though.”

Everyone present suddenly sobered.  Sam looked up.  “Can’t we do this one last?”

Dan shook her head.  “No, actually, I think that this one goes here.  We need to plan out some things here first.  And we should have those plans made before we start doing anything.”

Sam nodded, glumly, and Brian and Diane looked grim.  Diane spoke up, “So, what, exactly is your father likely to do?”

Dan grimaced, “Best case scenario?  Suddenly realize that his views on MORFS victims were horrendously wrong, and accept us with open arms.  That’s about as likely as me and Sam getting our dicks back.”
            “Worst case scenario,” Sam mused, “is that he sees us, denies blood ties, cuts us off from everything and goes mad with rage and attempts to take away everything, going after anyone who even attempts to aid us, in an unthinking paroxysm of blind hate and prejudice.  He may even attempt to murder us.”

Diane and Brian blanched.  “Surely not,” Brian gasped, only to be stopped by Dan’s shaking head.

“Its more likely than you think, and a hell of a lot more likely than our best case scenario.”

Sam looked grim, then brightened.  “But still, I think it’s fairly unlikely that he’ll go that far.  What’s almost definite is that he’ll disown us.”

Dan nodded soberly, “Yeah, no way in hell is he keeping two ‘inhuman freaks’ around where they might contaminate his image.  As if we were something foul that might rub off onto him.”  Brian and Diane noted with satisfaction the disgust in Dan’s voice.  She may know how her father thinks, but she doesn’t really believe it herself.  That meant that eventually she would accept herself, sooner or later.

Brian looked thoughtful.  “What would disowning you entail, exactly?”

Sam looked up, and thought.  “Taking away our access to the family accounts, stopping our stipend, and killing the trust funds.  And kicking us out of the house, obviously.”

Brian nodded, seeing a way out of this.  “Obviously.  But if his response is going to be to cut you off from everything you may one day inherit, and wipe you from the family, why not take some of it before he gets the chance.  You have personal accounts, right?”

Dan brightened.  “Oh, brilliant.  I can go you one better.  I can empty every account we have unlimited access to, it’s all our money anyway, and place it in new accounts linked to our biometrics.  New accounts that father doesn't know about.  And I’ll muddy the waters so thoroughly that only a team of professional accountants would be able to follow it, and even then, it wouldn’t hold up in court.”

Sam and Brian were grinning, and Diane was looking at Dan in shock.  “How?” was the only thing she said.

Dan grinned even more broadly.  “I’ve taken half a dozen online accounting courses.  Finance is one of my hobbies.  I’ve tripled what funds Sam and I were given, playing the markets.  It’ll take me a few hours to set it all up, but then…  Voila, we’re rich.  And it’s completely independent of father; he won’t even be able to trace it.  This is brilliant.  Brian you’re a genius.”

Sam looked troubled suddenly.  “But what about Duke?”

Brian snorted.  “What about Duke?  It’s no issue.  You go.  You’ve got a full scholarship.  And with your powers, you should be able to tear it up.  What’s to worry about?”

“Well, will they still take us?”

“Sure.  You may need to prove that you can still play.  But that law your father is pressing against is going to pass, even if he does bury it in other legislation so it never makes the news.  The suits in admin will know about it if they’re worth their salaries, and if they aren’t, you sue them.  Simple, and nothing to worry about.”

“So, the steps are simple, ‘Hide the money’ and ‘Brace for impact’.”  That’s what Dan said, and what she wrote.  “So, there’s father.  Put away like any other problem.  Not so scary, eh?”

Sam laughed, feeling much relieved.  They knew how to deal with father, and no matter what he did, they would be fine now.  Diane and Brian looked relieved as well.

“So that only leaves one thing left to deal with,” Dan said, looking down at the piece of paper, “and boy is it a dozy.  What do we do about the fact that we’re girls?”  She shared a look with Sam, one of embarrassment and worry.

“Well,” commented Sam, “Why don’t we break this one down.  It still seems rather monumental.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” drawled Diane, “You’ve definitely got some monumental chests.”  Everyone erupted in laughter.

“You want a better look?” dared Sam, moving as if to pull up the top of her sweats.

“No, no, not now, you’ll give Birdie a nosebleed.  Maybe later, if she’s nice, we’ll play a little,” Dan purred, putting a hand over Sam’s arm.  Diane blushed furiously at the suggestion and stammered a disclaimer, and Brian was consumed with a coughing fit.

“I have seen breasts before you know,” was Brian’s comment when he had recovered the power of speech.

“Not like these you haven’t!” chimed both twins in unison, setting off another round of laughter.

“Ok, ok, enough with the jokes.  Business people.  We have to deal with this.”  Dan was firm in her insistence.  “Sam, I know this is uncomfortable, believe me I know.  But we have to get a handle on this, and not just make stupid wisecracks about how hot we are.”

Sam nodded.  “God, but I don’t want to.  I just want to go on, joking around, and move on with my life.”

Diane smiled sympathetically, “That’s what we’re trying to do, believe it or not.”

Brian nodded.  “Think about it.  What are you going to call yourselves; Sam and Dan sure as hell don’t really match those bodies.”

Dan nodded.  “Right, so names is one thing,” and she wrote down ‘Names’ on the sheet.  “What else, Clothes?”

“Hell yes,” Diane exclaimed.  “You can hardly wear those sweats for the rest of your lives.  They’ll get stinky as hell.”

Sam nodded.  “We may as well bite the bullet and get girls clothes.  But no pink and no dresses.”

Dan nodded, and wrote down ‘Clothes’ on the paper, but Diane was shaking her head.  “The pink I can agree with, especially given your coloring.  But the no dresses?  Not a chance in hell.  You’re gonna get a skirt or two, and if you plan on going to any sort of formal event, a dress is gonna be it.  No way in hell is anyone going to accept that a tux is formal attire for those bodies.

Sam looked irritated, as did Dan, but they both saw the logic in Diane’s point.  Dan made notes under the ‘Clothes’ notation.  ‘Pants’, ‘Skirts’, Blouse’, ‘Dresses’, and then he made a new entry, and labeled it ‘Underwear’ and put down ‘Panties’ and ‘Bras’.

Sam saw this and made a yelping noise, but then groaned and said, “Right, it’s the underwear designed for this body.  No use fighting it.”  Then she groaned again, and said, “You may as well put down pantyhose, stockings, socks, and shoes.  We can’t go barefoot forever, and we may as well get used to heels.  If we want to look hot, we’re gonna have to wear them.”

Dan gave her a funny look as she wrote her sister’s suggestions down, “Look hot?  Since when do we want to look hot?”

Sam snorted.  “Since I woke up and realized I was growing hooters.  If I’m gonna be a chick, I wanna be a hot chick.  Especially with this body.  We’re gonna have to become just as confident in our gender as we are with our looks.”

Brian and Diane nodded, and Dan made a new entry under female, ‘Attitude’.  Under it, she wrote down ‘Self-Confidence’ and then looked around, grinned sheepishly and wrote ‘Sexuality’.  She looked around the table, soliciting suggestions.

“Mannerisms,” Brian suggested.  “You don’t really act like girls.  You act like guys.  I mean, when you sat down earlier, Dan, you plopped there with your legs wide open.  What girl sits like that unless she’s in the middle of a sex act?  You don’t walk like a girl, you don’t talk like one and your little gestures scream ‘Guy!’ to anyone who watches you.”

Dan nodded, and ‘Mannerisms’ went down on the page.  “Anything else?”

Negatives from around the table met her question.

“All right, then the first order of business is to decide new names.”

The four of them traded looks, stumped.

Brian raised his hand, and suggested, “Ebony and Ivory?”

“NO!” was the reply in chorus from the three women.

Dan looked thoughtful, “Well, it’s not such a bad idea, if horribly cliché.  Having our names reflect our appearance might be nice.  Might help us acclimate a little.”

Sam looked thoughtful, and then spoke up, “Well, I don’t really like Ebony.”  She looked down at herself, and examined one of her hands, “But I do look like a gemstone.  Hmmm, Onyx, Obsidian, Jet.  Hmm.  Jet.  Hi, my name is Jet.  I like it.  What do you think?”

The other three nodded, and the general consensus was positive.  Dan looked at her hand in turn.  “Well, Ivory is out.  Way to girly.  Same for Pearl.  Diamond just sounds pretentious.  How about Quartz.  Sound good?”

Everyone looked at her, and then looked around.  Brian spoke up, “If you like, but expect me to just call you Q.”

Dan nodded.  “So Quartz it is.  Good.”  Quartz looked around.  “So now that that momentous event has been taken care of, what next?”

Jet looked at the sheet, “Hmm, clothes.  Diane, do you think that you can help with that?”

Diane looked surprised, “Um, sure what did you have in mind.”

Jet laughed.  “Well, you must know more about female clothing than we do.  Hell, you prolly know more about chick duds then anyone else here, unless Birdie is a closet cross dresser.”

Brian snorted.  “No, I don’t think so, statue girl.”

Diane looked the girls over, “I think I can actually do something with you two.  But I need to go home and get some things.  You think you can keep yourselves occupied?”

Quartz nodded.  “Sure, I can start on the financials, and I’m sure that Sa… Jet can find something to do.  Physical tests?”

Jet noticed the slip, but let it slide.  The new names would take some getting used to.  “Sure, it’ll be nice to know just where I stand on the fitness end of things.  Brian, wanna spot me?”

Brian shrugged, “Sure, why not.”

Quartz nodded, and got up to head upstairs, snagging her tablet from the shelf as she went by.  Diane got up and headed out the doors, heading out to get who knows what.  Brian and Jet went down the stairs into the basement.  The stairs were right next to the ones up to the second floor.  They headed down into a large room with sanded wood floors, with paneled walls, and a great deal of exercise equipment scattered about.  There was a large clear space in the middle of the room, with a rectangle painted around it, and there was a stack of gymnastic mats piled up in one corner.  There was also a set of free weights, an electronic scale, and several different athletic machines, including a treadmill.

“First order of business, what do I weigh?” Jet was actually curious, she seemed to have lost a lot of weight, since her entire body was much leaner and thinner then before, with the notable exception of her chest, but she wasn’t so naïve as to assume that her breasts made up the weight.  So she stepped on the scale, and then exclaimed in shock, “No fucking way!”

Brian looked over, and goggled at the readout.  “Three hundred and eighty two?  No fucking way.  No godamed way.  Let me on that thing.”

Jet stepped out of the way, and Brian stepped on.  “Two ten.  That’s right.  So how the hell…”  He was stunned.  “Hold still, and spread your arms.”  Jet silently complied.  Brian grasped her about the waist, and attempted to lift.  He had done this to Diane with ease, and Jet wasn’t that much bigger, yet he couldn’t budge Jet.  She was simply too heavy.  “What the hell.  You weigh a ton.”

Jet just looked confused.  “I haven’t noticed that I got heavier.  What happened?”

Brian looked puzzled, and then got an idea.  “Jet, how much could you bench, as Sam?”

Jet just shrugged, “About three twenty, why?”

Brian nodded, “Sounds about right, for someone who did as much lifting as you did.  Lets see you do that now.”

Jet looked shocked.  “Brian, I’ve lost all my muscle mass.  Look at me, I used to have forearms the size of my biceps, and my biceps used to be the size my head is now.  How the hell am I supposed to lift three twenty in this body?”

Brian looked at her and shrugged, “That’s while I’ll be spotting you.  I want to test something.”

Jet shook her head, but walked over to the bench.  She loaded up the bar and moved to get in position.  Brian interrupted her.  “Jet, did that seem hard?”

Jet paused, and then raised one obsidian brow, “No, actually, it was rather easy.  Easier than I remember in fact.  Huh.”  She lay down and got under the bar, with Brian standing over her head, ready to spot.  She grabbed the bar, and pushed up.  The bar move with remarkable ease.  It was an effort, but not much of one.  Jet was amazed.  “I wonder how many reps on this I can do.  Lets find out.”  She began bench pressing the weight, getting in fifteen reps before she had to stop.  “Wow.  One second.”  She walked over to the wall and punched in the numbers.  “According to that, my max press is about four seventy-five.  Wow.  That’s a hell of a lot better then I remember ever being.”

Brian was amazed.  His max press was only three twenty, same as Sam’s was.  That this lithe, gymnast looking girl could press that much amazed him.  “Well,” he commented, “it looks like I was right.”

Jet turned and looked at him, “Huh?”

“Your density increased.  Prolly just muscle and bone.  Your tits look bouncy enough that I don’t think your fat density increased.  You have more muscle in less space.  Same with the bones.  Makes ‘em harder to break.  Most likely to keep up with the increased strength.”

Jet nodded.  “Makes sense.  Explains the weight.  Wonderful.  I’m just glad I wasn’t born female.  It would have been hell to have weight concerns.  I gotta get down to ninety pounds.  My skeleton prolly weighs that much now.”

Brian laughed.  “I can’t wait to see Diane’s reaction.  Wow.  Neat.  I wonder if your flight power takes that into account.”

“Only one way to find out, and that’s to go flying.  We’ll try it out front, tonight.”

“Why tonight?”

“Because sometime the day after tomorrow, the alarm system is going to come back up, and we have to be done by then.  That means doing measurements now, clothes tomorrow, and settling in the next day.  When that alarm system comes back up you have to be gone, father will call.”

“How do you know?”

“It’s his pattern, he will assume we had a party, and call to find out how it went.  He only does it after he knows its over, so he doesn’t embarrass us.  It’s his idea of being discrete.”

“Fun,” Brian commented.  “Nicely predictable of him.”

“One of the few things he’s predictable about at all these days.”  Jet shook her head.  “Come on, let’s finish these tests, then go see if Quartz is done with the financials, and we’ll get her down here and compare.”

 

Upstairs, Quartz was lying naked on her bed, with half a dozen holographic displays floating in front of her.  A small army of electronic gismos was arrayed before her in a semicircle, with her tablet humming away in the middle.  She was fiddling with two of the little devices in front of her when she heard a knock from the door of her room.

“Come in, it’s open”

She heard a masculine gasp of surprise, and feminine chuckles, and Brian’s voice floated to her ears, “You could have warned me, Dan.”

She looked down; saw the luscious white mounds of her breasts pressed up beneath her on the mattress, and suddenly felt mildly embarrassed.  Laughing at the unexpected discomfort of her visitor, she called out, “It’s nothing you haven’t seen before on Diane.  And it’s Quartz now not Dan.”

She heard Jet’s musical laughter from the hall, and couldn’t catch what she said, as her attention was recaptured by the program she was working on.  She got so involved that she didn’t hear someone walk up behind her, and was unaware of their presence till she felt a light blanket drape over her shoulders, covering her, and Jet called out from behind her, “It’s all right now Birdie, she’s covered.”

She looked up at the dark form of her sister, and shrugged.  “I always work in my underwear when I get into serious programming.  You know that.”

Jet laughed, “Yes I do, but Birdie didn’t.  His reaction was entertaining.”

Brian chimed in, “Damn it girl, don’t you have any shame?”

Quarts laughed as she manipulated variables in her program and watched the results.  “No, not really.”  She had almost gotten this solved, she just needed to track down the last few errors and she would be done.  “I’ve been fully female for about, what 6 conscious hours?  Do you really expect automatic modesty?  I’m busy, I’ll be embarrassed later.”

This program was a work of art.  She had had several other programs that had done parts of what she wanted.  Combining them, and then working up the parts she didn’t have and making them all jump through hoops was a relatively easy, if entertaining task.  In moments, she found the problem and had it corrected, then ran one final test.  It all worked.  She set the tablet to test and compile the program into it’s final form, and looked up at her guests again.  “There, done.  Now what did you need?”

“Your help confirming a few suspicions.  Need you to stand on a scale for us.”  Jet was laughing, if not in actuality then in her tone and expression.

Brian was curious, however.  “What was that you were working on?”

“That?   Oh, that was just the automated program to slowly move all our cash into anonymous accounts, shuffle it around, and then deposit it into the new accounts I’ve set up.  It does it all in very small transaction, in waves, over time, so that it doesn't set off alarms right away.  It should take about two days to finish, and then all our money will be hidden away, and a bunch that isn’t really ours, but I got access to anyways.  All told, it’s quite a bit of cash.”

“So,” Brian grinned, “You’re stealing your dad’s money.  Isn’t that kind of illegal?”

“Well, its not so much stealing money from father as it is moving money he decided to give us somewhere where he cant see it.  But yes, he will probably see it as theft.”  Quartz was smiling at the thought.  Her opinion of her father was never very high, and had fallen into the cellar with the discovery of what he had done to their mother and sister.  Besides which, the Carmichael estate had so much wealth floating around that taking what she felt her sister and she were due would barely cause a ripple.

Not that that would stop their father from being furious.  She thought it likely that he would attempt to beggar them on general principle, and was glad that she had been able to prevent it.  After this program had run for a few days, the only way to find this money would be with her tablet and the encryption key she had devised.  She smiled at the thought.  Then she remembered why she had an audience.

“So, Jet, what exactly did you need from me?”

Jet shrugged, “Nothing much, just to check your weight.”

Quartz was puzzled, but nodded, and moved to get up.  Brian suddenly blushed, and scrambled to get out of the room.  Jet and Quartz both looked at him, puzzled, and Brian called back from the door, “Don’t you have any modesty, woman?”

“When,” Quartz asked as she levered herself up and began putting on the discarded sweat suit, “would I have learned, in my long and sordid life, female modesty?  I’ve only been functioning as a female for about half a day.”

Jet followed her as she walked out of the room and raised a pale brow at Brian, “Shall we go?”

Brian blushed furiously.  “Doesn't that body bother you at all?”

“Jet, should we be bothered by this?”

“I don’t know Q, what do you think?”

“I think that this feels like my body.  And it feels comfortable.  Weird, but comfortable.  Why should that bother me?”

“Because it means that you aren’t masculine enough?”

“Bah, since when do I care about looking masculine?”

Brian butted in at this point, “You may not care, but there are other people who will have, huh, issues with this.  And not just the idiots like your dad.  The sexuality nazi’s might give you grief and the guys on the football squad…”

Quartz looked amused.  “Right, and if they do, I squish ‘em.  You forget, I’m rich, that gives me a certain amount of power.”

Brian just raised an eyebrow, “And when some punk on the street walks by and makes a crack about how you look sexy, you know, like, ‘Nice rack, toots’ or ‘how bout you and me practice some horizontal mambo’ or something?”

Quartz and Jet both laughed.  “You mean, like getting hit on,” Jet laughed.

“Simple, really,” Quartz gasped, while laughing.  “I already had a line picked out.  ‘You’re nice, sugar, but I like my date’s to have a bit more up top.  Though you are pretty cute.  Some nice double D cups and you’d be perfect.’  Something like that.”

“Something to note, Brian,” Jet filled in, “is that for all that we haven’t had these bodies for long, they feel very comfortable.”

“Most of the time, anyways,” Quartz interjected.

“We just feel like, even though we know that a week ago, our bodies looked radically different, the image I see in the mirror doesn't look wrong.”

“Well,” Quartz mused, “that’s not quite true.  I get disoriented when I think about it.  I know my body is different, radically so, but it all feels normal, but weird.  Nothing feels out of place.  It’s not nearly as bad as you’d think.”

Jet sneered, “Yeah, but the idea of getting all dolled up, makeup, bras and panties, dresses, ugh, that makes me want to puke.  But it’s what the world expects to see, and I suspect that we’ll get used to that eventually too.”

They had reached the basement, and at Brian’s direction, Quartz got on the scale.  “What the hell?  Three hundred and eighty two?  No fucking way.  Double you tee eff mate?”

Jet grinned.  “I’m the same.  We think it’s a density thing.  Go grab the bar and bench, I’ll spot.”

Quartz looked at the weights of the bar, “That’s how much, exactly?”  She couldn’t actually see the weights; there were bags over the plates.

Jet smiled.  “Don’t worry; I did it about 10 minutes ago, no problem.”

Quartz smiled nervously, “Right, then get your black ass over here and spot me.”

Jet did so, as Quartz took her position on the bench, and grunted softly, and picked up the bar, did a rep, then placed it back on the supports.

“That was fucking heavy!  How much was that?”  Quartz was curious, that must have been over three hundred.  It was almost her max lift.

Jet simply tugged the ties on the bags and drew them off.  “Four sixty.”

Quartz was flabbergasted.  “What!”  She had never even come close to that before.  “How in the hell?”

Brian spoke up.  “Best guess, is a muscle and bone density increase.  That would increase your lift power and physical abilities.  It also accounts for why things seem so, huh, normal to you two.  You haven’t actually lost anything, really.”  At the twins’ rather caustic looks, he amended, “Ability wise anyways.  You’re still the same height; you have about the same physical abilities, at least within normal exertion ranges.  So you don’t have any physical mismatches to confuse you.  It’s an interesting phenomenon.”

Jet nodded.  “Makes sense.  I remember when I had my surgery, I was laid up for three months, after, and I lost a lot of my mobility.  When I got on my feet again, I remember feeling so weak, so out of synch.  It made me feel like I wasn’t even in my own body.  This is like the opposite of that.  Even though the body is radically different, when I tell my body to do X, it does X, just the way I wanted it to.”

Quartz nodded, “Rather than Y, which while remarkably like X is not what you intended to do.”

Jet ignored the sarcasm, and continued.  “So, its like switching the paint job of a car.  It looks radically different, cosmetically, but it still handles the same, so driving it doesn't change at all, except for the view over the hood.”

Quartz looked down, and hefted her breasts.  “And what a hood we’ve got.”

Brian laughed at that one, and Jet shot her twin a look.  “So,” Jet continued, “We should expect the most disconnect when doing things that we couldn’t do in our old bodies, or doing things in these bodies that our old ones could do better.”

Brian nodded, “But I don’t see that second option popping up much.”

Quartz nodded.  “So, now that we’ve ascertained that we’re not closet transsexuals, how about we get dinner, I’m starving.”

Jet laughed.  “Only if you cook.”  Jet was decent cook, but Quartz had a real talent for matters culinary, and Jet usually found a reason for her twin to cook when their father was away.  Usually by volunteering to do the dishes, after.

Quartz laughed.  “Fine, if you want this woman in the kitchen, I’ll get.  But you’re washing things this time, eh?”

Jet laughed, and started up the stairs.  “Brian, are you done pondering your imponderables.  You’re gonna miss Q’s cooking, and that’s a sin.  Hurry your ass up.”

Brian laughed, and headed up the stairs after his friends, admiring the view as he did so.

 

Diane opened the patio doors and stepped into the living room of the Carmichael twins, an was immediately struck by two things. One was the smells coming from the kitchen, there was an absolutely divine aroma filling the house.  The other was a box, falling on her head, off of the stack of things she was carrying.  With an exclamation of pain, she stumbled forwards, dropping the remaining boxes into the waiting arms of Jet and Brian.

“Ya know, you could have taken two trips,” Jet scolded her.

“What is that smell?” was Diane’s very topical reply.

Brian laughed as he relieved her of most of her load, “Q’s cooking.  She’s making some kind of stew, I think.  She called it ‘Refrigerator Surprise’ and chased us out of the kitchen.”

Jet laughed, “It’s a potluck, sort of.  She takes whatever she can assemble out of the fridge in the kitchen, and makes stew.  It’s always interesting, because other than a few staples that we keep around for this kind of thing, exactly what’s in it is always a surprise.”

Diane laughed.  “I just hope it’s edible.”

Jet laughed again.  “You’ve never eaten Quartz’ cooking.  It’s always good.”

“Now what is all this,” Brian asked, placing the last cardboard box on the table.  There were four of them, all brown and unmarked.

Diane pointed to each of the boxes in turn.  “That is my sizing supplies, and few things I use when doing designs.  That is several nightgowns, bras, and panties, and they should fit you.  That is one of my few excesses, a professional design device, and this has all the outfits on sale at the big chain stores programmed into it.  It’s everything we’ll need to go on a buying trip without leaving the house.”

Jet looked both impressed and irritated.  “Neat, I guess.”  Her lack of enthusiasm for her new wardrobe was obvious.

Diane looked at her, “Look, Jet, you’ll be the one picking the wardrobe out.  You won’t get anything you won’t like.”

Jet sighed.  “It’s not that I don’t appreciate this Diane, it’s just, gha….”

Brian laughed, “Jet, don’t worry.  You’ll look fine.”

Jet shrugged, “That’s what I’m kinda afraid of.”

Diane nodded, “Ah.  Finally.”

“Huh?”  Jet and Brian were both confused.

“Finally what?”  Quartz’ voice floated over from the door.  “And grub’s on.”

Jet promptly jumped up and darted out the door into the kitchen.  Brian and Diane followed at a more sedate pace.  As they passed, Quartz raised an eyebrow at Diane.  Diane laughed, “Finally, a normal reaction from one of you two.”  Quartz opened her mouth in an ‘ah’ expression.  Then they moved into the kitchen to eat.

When then got in there, they were greeted by the sight of Jet sitting at the table, holding a fork and spoon, banging her hands on the table in a wordless cry for food.  Quartz laughed and opened the pressure cooker to serve the stew.  Everyone sat and stared as a lumpy, thick, red glop was deposited into their bowls.  Jet grinned, and dug in.  Quartz sat down and looked at Diane and Brian.  “It’s not going to bite you.”

“Yeah,” Jet said around a mouthful of stew, “ish good.”

Brian and Diane looked at the stew dubiously, then looked at each other, and tried the stew.  They looked shocked for a moment, and then dug in with obvious enthusiasm.  There was no further conversation for the remainder of the meal, as all parties involved were using their mouths for a much worthier purpose.

About an hour later, the four of them were finished eating, and were sitting around the table in the living room, discussing what their plans for the evening were.  Jet was sitting there, explaining her thoughts on the matter.

“As I see it,” she was saying, “We can go and test our wings tonight.  And then,” she shuddered, “we can try on underwear.”

Diane grinned, “Why does having breasts not bother you guys, but having to wear a bra to hold them humiliates you somehow?”

Quartz laughed weakly, “Yeah, actually.”

Jet sighed, “It’s a masculine pride thing.”

Brian shook his head.  “Are you still guys?”

Both twins looked chagrined.

Quartz looked up, “Well, no, but we still feel like it.”

“I suppose we’ll get used to it.” Jet moped.

“Yeah, you will.”  Diane was suddenly serious.  “Lilly did, it just took time.  I’m not going to force you into frilly dresses and crap.  It’s gonna be pants, shirts, that kind of crap.  Relax, and enjoy it.  Besides, tonight is going to be private, and stuff nobody will see anyways, unless you let them of course.”

Jet’s eyes widened at the implications, and Quartz just laughed, “I don’t see that happening any time soon.”

Brian coughed, feeling uncomfortable with the direction the discussion was heading.  “So, before you females get too involved in discussing your love lives, how about we go and see if you two can actually fly.”

Jet nodded, suddenly all business.  “Fine, up to my room then.”

Quartz nodded, and got up.  Brian and Diane looked confused and followed a moment later.  When they got there, Jet headed to the balcony and opened the doors out onto her balcony.  Walking out, she started to take off her shirt, and said, “I hope you two don’t mind seeing me topless, but I need to stretch my wings.”  So saying, she unfurled her wings from within her back, and then jumped off of the balcony into the evening.  “Wahoo!”

She hurtled towards the ground for a moment, then her wings caught the air, and she swooped out over the grounds.  With a cry, she flew out over the lawn, and arced up above the manor.  She glided over the manor, banked, and then folded her wings, dropping down onto her balcony with a crunch, folding her wings inside her back again as she did so.  She took her shirt back from Diane while Brian averted his eyes.

Jet was exultant.  “Q, you have got to try this.”

Quartz was already pulling her shirt over her head, and Diane caught it as she headed out the doors and onto the patio at a run, unfurling her wings as she went.  She whooped as she swooped over the grounds, and soared over the manor, making a full circuit of the house before flying up from under the balcony and dropping down onto it without so much as a thump.  She was grinning from ear to ear as she pulled her shirt back on after re-folding her wings into her back.

Brian turned back to the three women, once both the twins had their shirts on again.  “Satisfied girls?”

Quartz grinned back.  “Very.  That was so awesome.”

Brian grinned back.  “I know exactly what you mean.”

Diane piped up, “Well, now that you’re done winging around, how about we get you sized, and try on some underwear, eh?”

Brian nodded, and moved to go downstairs.  “I’ll excuse myself for this, thank you.  Which box, Diane?”

“The first one is all I’ll need,” was her response.  “Unpack the others in the living room; we’ll need them tomorrow morning.”

“Right,” Brian walked out of the room, calling as he went, “luck guys.”

Jet looked uncomfortable, and Quartz spoke up.  “Alright Diane, what, exactly, are we doing here?”

Diane sat down on the bed.  “We’re going to get your sizes, mostly.”

Jet walked over to the shelf that held her knickknacks, and started playing with a katana.  “And that means what, exactly?”

Diane laughed again, “You taking off your clothes, me with some measuring tape, and you trying on bras.  I’ve brought my sizing collection.”

Quartz leaned against the wall and laughed.  “I forgot you’re an amateur fashion designer.”

Then there was a knock at the door, and Brian’s voice echoed from the other side, “Box outside, I’ll be downstairs, see you girls in the morning.”

Diane raised an eyebrow at Quartz, who happened to be standing near the door, and she sighed and opened the door, and dragged the box over to the bed, then opened it.  “A little much?”  The box was filled with bras, all white, bundled in plastic bags.

Diane bent over, and started taking out bundles of bra’s, and setting them on the beds.  Then she got to the bottom, took out four packages of panties, and a tape measure.  Then she looked at the twins, and raised an eyebrow, “Well, strip!”

The twins looked at her and broke out into laughter, then began to extricate themselves from their clothing.

Diane looked up at them, and motioned for them to stand in front of her.  “Nice figures girls, very nice.  You’re real man bait.  Let’s see here…  “She walked around Quartz, and reached under her breasts and drew the tape measure around.  “Huh, thirty-six chest.”  She reached up and measured across her breasts, and took another measurement, “F cups too, most likely.  Nice rack.  Waist,” as she measured the girls waist, “a twenty two, hips, thirty six again.”  She took the tape measure away from the Quartz, and then went over to Jet and repeated the same measurements.  “Well, girls, you have nearly perfect figures.  I mean, there are porn stars who don’t have measurements this good.  You really got worked over bad, or got really lucky, depending on how you look at it.”

Jet groaned, and Quartz grimaced, “Both.”

“Right, well,” Diane walked over and opened a package of grey panties, and handed one each to the twins, “Put these on and see how they fit.”

The panties were grey, and very plain.  The twins looked at them dubiously, and then with identical expressions of resignation, slipped them on.  They fit fine.   The twins said so.

“Right, so, know we know what size panty you wear, I had gotten four, but we got it right on the first try.  Now bras.  You two are going to hate this.  But since there are two of you, I can do this twice as fast.  Each of these bags is a different bra, in both style and manufacture.  We’re going to try on each and every one until we find your sizes for all of them.  I fully expect you to be in the 36 band, F cup range, but we need to know.  Basically, this is like trying on shoes.”

“Only on our chests,” Quartz commented.

“Well,” Jet sighed, “the sooner we start, the sooner we’re done.”

It did take a long time, and they both were heartily sick of the entire exercise by the time they were done, but it did accomplish one simple goal.  By the time the twins were done, they no longer had any discomfort with wearing a bra, and had come to realize that it was both necessary, and comfortable.  At least when the bra fit right.  So they had no problem with helping Diane pick out their favorite styles, and were even grudgingly taking her advice on what styles they should select.  When all was said and done, they had quite the list of bras, and a commitment from Diane to get them full wardrobe of female underwear.  Quartz got her tablet from her room and Diane put in the order at several local stores, to be ready for pickup the next day.

“Alright, now that that’s done, time for all of us to crash.  Tomorrow is going to be busy, and you two are going to need your sleep.”

Jet yawned, and Quartz looked tired, but asked, “What, all we’re doing tomorrow is picking out clothes, that’s not so hard.”

“You’ve never bought clothes as a female,” Diane laughed.  “It can take forever, and we’re going to be getting you two a whole wardrobe.  Now get some sleep.”

The twins decided that sleep sounded like a good idea, and Quartz headed into her room.  Before she left, Diane handed her a silk garment, and told her to wear it.  It was a black silk nightgown, barely long enough to reach below her crotch.  She raised an eyebrow at it, but went along with it.  She hadn’t even remembered she was wearing panties not briefs until just then, they had felt comfortable.  They should, she realized, because they were designed for a body shaped like this.  Just like the nightgown was.  She shook her head, but put the nightgown on, and waked back to her room

Once she arrived there, she plugged her tablet into its charger, and cleaned up her peripherals from off her bed.  Then she sat down and stared at her hands for a while.  She felt her breasts through her nightgown.  Her pale white skin was offset dramatically by the black of silk.  She rather liked the effect.  It emphasized her uniqueness.  It made her feel nervous, but also confident.  She was different, exotic.  She made a conscious decision to like that fact.  It was a good thing.  She lay down and closed her eyes, curling up under her covers and falling into her first undrugged sleep as a woman.  Her dreams were filled with flying.

 

Quartz woke to the sound of buzzing.  The buzzing of her alarm clock to be exact.  She rolled over and hit the off button, rolling herself out of bed, and felt the slip of silk against her skin.  She sighed, and fingered the hem of her nightgown.  She really liked it, and wasn’t sure if she liked that fact.  Shaking her head, she decided that it didn’t matter.  It felt nice, so she was going to keep wearing it.  She hauled herself out of bed and into the bathroom.  She had beaten Jet into wakefulness, so she had the shower to herself.  She smiled slightly, and climbed in.

The water felt divine.  She reveled as the spray from the showerhead pulsed over her chest and onto her breasts, sending shivers of pleasure through her.  She smiled, and murmured to herself, “Mmmmm, this part of being a girl, I like.”  She massaged herself, moaning as the sensations of her new body coursed over her.

Half an hour later, feeling very clean and very satisfied, she walked out of the shower and started to pat herself dry.  She winced at her hair.  Wet, it weighed a ton.  She thought about drying it with the towel, but then noticed the box on the counter.  Walking over, she had dark thoughts about just finding scissors and hacking it all off, but decided against it.  Picking up the package, she found it was a brown cardboard box.  Inside, she found two hairbrushes, a hairdryer, and a note.  The note was short, it read, ‘Girls, I’ve noticed your hair, and provided you with a dryer for the hair, as well as some brushes.  Brush the hair out, while hitting it with the dryer.  You’ll catch on.  Diane.’  She smiled, and set to work.

She was several minutes in when Jet walked in, looking ravishing in her white nightgown.  Quartz said so.  Jet just grumbled, “Wait till after shower,” and grouched over to the shower, stripped down and got in.  Quartz smiled, and finished her hair.  She had finally finished her hair when Jet got out.  She just smiled at her sister, and gestured with the hairdryer.  Jet shook her head, pretended to collapse under the weight of her hair, and then laughed.  “I am so going to chop this all off.”

“No, I don’t think so,” Quartz responded.  “You know full well that you look far too hot with it long to ever chop it off.  Restraining it though…”

“Heh,” Jet laughed as she took the dryer from her sister, “Your right, of course.  Maybe I should learn to braid it…”

Quartz laughed, “Sure, good idea.  I’ll just get a scrunchie.”  She headed back into her room.

A sarcastic voice followed her back into her bedroom.  “You do that.  Remember your panties.”

She laughed, and snagged the package of panties off her desk.  She slipped a fresh one on, and snagged a new pair of sweats from her closet.  Sliding herself into the sweatshirt, she winced as the materiel slid over her breasts.  Much as it galled her, she needed a bra.  Grimacing, she headed downstairs to get some breakfast.  On her way, she poked her head into the bathroom, and noted how her sister was doing on her hair.  She seemed to have just gotten it figured out.  Smiling to herself, she headed down to the living room to see what the gruesome twosome had done during the night.

The first thing she noticed was the large imager sitting on the floor.  The second was Diane and Brian curled up together on the sofa bed, with his wings around her.  She was in her purple haired natural form.  They were both also nude.  “sheesh, get a room.”  She walked around the sleeping pair and headed to the kitchen.

Several minutes later, a sleepy eyed, and clothed, Diane poked her head into the kitchen, wearing a ‘what smells so good’ expression, that was quickly followed by a “What smells so good” from her mouth.

“I’m calling it a Quartz special.  It’s a cheddar, steak, Taylor ham, crumbled bacon, and egg omelet.  A specialty of mine.  I make it with eggs and whatever beef and pork products I can lay hands on.  It’s good.”

Brian walked past Diane and into the table nook, “After that stew last night, I doubt you not.”

Diane sat down and raised an eyebrow, “Taylor ham?”

“A seasoned pork roll out of jersey, it’s this local thing that my mother was in love with, and me and Sam, crap, Jet,” she corrected herself, “got addicted to.  The chef gets it shipped in for us.  Handy thing, a staff.”

Brian laughed.  “Yeah, wealth has its perks.  So where is the night to your day?”

Quartz laughed, “When I came down before, she had just figured out how to dry her hair.  Thank you for the gift, by the way.”  She nodded at Diane, then suddenly turned her full attention to the pan, and began sliding around a large gooey mess, and moments later slid the entire mass onto a large platter.  She took the platter over to the table, and then grabbed four plates from the cabinet above the sink, and set them down on the table.  Everyone grabbed plates, and dished themselves up some of the gooey egg, cheese, and meat concoction.  Jet joined them several minutes in, and for some time there was little conversation.

After things were settled, they were all sitting around the table relaxing in the afterglow of a good meal eaten in good company.  Jet was lounging back, wiping her mouth, while Quartz asked, “So, what’s that gizmo in the living room.”

Brian and Jet also shot interested looks at Diane, who grinned, and explained, “It’s a toy I got from F.I.A.  It’s a sizing and design imager.  Useful for seeing how designs play out on a specific model.  I can use it to check out how clothes look on your frame.”

Jet looked intrigued, and Quartz just laughed.  “So we don’t have to humiliate ourselves by trying on eighty billion different things?”

Diane looked hurt, and Brian collapsed into laughter.  Diane harrumphed, “You two are so not female.”

Jet laughed back, “My chest says otherwise.”

“Alright,” Quartz laughed, “let’s get this over with.  How long is this going to take?  Two, three hours?”

Diane looked stunned.  “A full wardrobe, in three hours?  Are you insane?  This is going to take all day!”

The twins shared a look that was part horror, and part disbelief.  Brian just sighed.  “Right, so one full day of ordering stuff, and then me going and picking it up.  Wonderful.”

Diane grinned, “Why how nice of you to volunteer.  That reminds me, I ordered a bunch of stuff from Vickie’s and the local malls, could you go get them?”

Brian groaned, and slid away from the table.  “Well the sooner I go, the sooner I get back.”  He strolled out of the kitchen and out of the manor.

Quartz looked around.  “Well, might as well get this over with.”

Jet got up, and with a bow that was both mocking and graceful, escorted the others into the living room.

Once they were seated on the couch, with the projector in front of them, Diane made an odd request.  “You want me to do what?”  Quartz’s voice was shocked.

“I want you to strip to your panties and stand with your arms out.  What’s so difficult about this?”

Quartz sighed, and began to remove her sweatshirt.  Jet just stared, and smirked at Diane.  “Are you sure you don’t have lesbian leanings?  I mean, this is the third time in two days you’re having one of us strip.”

Diane laughed.  “I’m quite sure of my sexuality girls.  Now stand still.”  She picked up a imaging wand and started moving it up and down the pale woman.  She covered every angle of Quartz, front and back.  After several minutes, she plugged the rod into the base of the projector, and the device hummed to life.  A white glow spread up from the projector on the floor, and then there was n image of Quartz, standing in her panties, with her arms out to the side, hanging there in midair.  “There we go. Now, extend your wings, please.”

Quarts did so, with Diane watching her back intently the whole while.  “There you go, happy?”

“Quite.”  Diane turned and fiddled with the controls on the base of the projector.  Soon, there were a pair of blue arcs on the back of the model, and there were two blue disks coming out of them.  “This will tell us if whatever you have on the model will obstruct your wings.  Nifty toy, eh?”

“Quite,” Quartz deadpanned as she retracted her wings and grabbed her shirt.

“So,” Jade asked, as her sister pulled her shirt over her head, “now what?”

“Now,” Diane looked smug as she pulled out a large book filled with paper and data disks, “we go shopping.”

Confused looks graced the twins’ faces.  “Huh?” was the mutual reply.

Diane laughed.  “This is the catalogue from every major chain designer out there.  As well as some fun of my own design.  With it, we can see how everything you want to buy will look on you before you buy it, without even walking into the store.  Neat, eh?”

Jet looked lost, but Quartz was grinning ear to ear.  “Virtual dressing room in 3-D.  Neat.  Patent this thing?”

Diane grinned.  “Duh.  I’m not that stupid.  Eventually somebody important will take to the idea, and I’ll get rich off of ‘em.”

Jet finally figured it our.  “Oh, that is so fucking cool.  You two are such nerds.”

“Yeah,” Diane countered, “but nerd’s get rich.”

“Yup,“ Quartz agreed, “but are we going to make insulting small talk all day, or are we going to do this?”

Since they were all in agreement, they spent the next hour or two engaged in trying on literally hundreds of outfits, from demure to outlandish, conservative to exhibitionist.  They had a great deal of fun, and the twins were able to get their minds wrapped around the sight of themselves in female clothes, some of them very feminine, in a variety of ways.  It was a surprisingly entertaining experience.  When Brian arrived, it was to the sound of female laughter, giggles actually.

“I can’t believe my ears.  I’m hearing the gruesome twosome giggling.  I must be hallucinating.”  Brian’s tone was light, but he was only half joking.

“Yes you twit,” Quartz jabbed back, “we’re giggling.  And if you’d been here, you’d’ve seen why.  It was just…”

“I think that we should settle down and sort this out.”  Diane was holding her stomach, but her voice was steady.  “I want to show you girls something.  This is called the tee shirt model.”  She inserted a dist into the base of the projector, and the model’s shirt switched to a blank white tee, rather baggy.  She fiddled with the interface, and the pants turned into simple denim jeans.  “We can adjust the shirt almost any way we like.  We can make it smaller,” she touched a few buttons and sudden the shirt shrank until it was stretched to almost breaking over the models breasts, and fell no more than an inch below them, “or change the color,” a few more buttons and now it was black, “or even make it a pattern,” and with a final button push, a large pink Venus symbol appeared on the chest of the shirt, badly distorted by the stretch of the fabric over the breasts.

“Neat, so, we can use this to see how tee’s from wherever will fit us and get sizes?” was the immediate question from Jet.

Diane gave an affirmative, and the two of them bent over the projector and began playing with the controls, writing down sizes and fits on a piece of scrap paper lying on the table.  Quartz helped Brian bring the boxes of underwear up to the bedrooms, and divided the lingerie up into two batches, one for her and one for Jet, and dumped them on their beds.  While she was in her room, she grabbed her tablet.  Then they headed back downstairs.

“So,” Jet was saying, “about four or five of each of these, in white for me, and black for Quartz?”

Diane was nodding, and Quartz looked over their shoulder at the list, “What am I getting now?”

Jet looked up at her twin, “Tee shirts.  Basic building blocks of any good wardrobe.  I don’t plan on going all artsy fartsy any time soon, so we get utilitarian wear first.  Then we can do the fancy stuff.”

Quartz looked at the list, and then looked at Brian, “Can you head over to the mall?  I can order everything online for store pickup, and you can grab it.  I’ll call you with each order, and you can run them out to your truck.”

Brian nodded.  “Sounds like a plan.  Just don’t stick me with the bill.”

They laughed at that, and then Quartz set to work getting the shirts that Jet had picked in the right sizes and colors.  Then they sat down and looked at each other.

“Pants,” was the first thing out of Quartz’s mouth.

Jet nodded, and they dialed the tee into a simple, but snug, fit.  Then they started going through denim catalogues.   It took about 3 hours, but eventually they had settled on a dozen pairs of jeans each, and Quartz had placed the order.

“Flying outfits?” Jet looked embarrassed while she suggested it.

“Good idea, actually,” Quartz mused.  “It would be a little strange to have to strip our tops off every time we want to go flying.”

“Oh, I’m sure the boys would enjoy the show.”  Diane’s voice was strangled with mirth.

“Right, not my idea of a good time,” Jet was firm.  “Coats?  Halters?”

“Both good, actually.”  Diane looked thoughtful.  “Give me that a moment.”  She took the controls and started playing with them, inserting several disks as she did so.  Suddenly, the tee shirt morphed into an athletic halter top, and the marks showing where the wings were turned blue again.  “Good, that style of top leaves your wings clear.”  Quartz summarily ordered two dozen, one for her in black, and one for Jet in white.

Diane was still fiddling with the controls, and suddenly a large leather trench coat appeared on the model.  The wing markers suddenly turned black.  Diane nodded, got up, looked at the back of the coat, and started fiddling with the controls again.  Suddenly the wing markers turned blue again.  Diane nodded firmly, and the twins gave her confused looks.  “I gave it some custom modifications.  I can place this order with a friend of mine, and it’ll be ready by tonight.  I’ll call this in, while you two give Brian the last pickup, and tell him to come back.  We have enough for you two to get into some real clothes, and then we’ll do the fancy shopping.”  She walked off into the kitchen, pulling out her E-Com as she went.

Jet looked at her sister, and shrugged.  “Fast food?”

Quartz called after Diane, “Chicken or burgers?”

Moments later Diane’s voice floated back, “Burgers, a number 1 with no tomato, diet soda, medium.”

“Usual,” Quartz asked her sister, and received a nod in reply.  She quickly composed an message to Brian, telling him about the last pickup, and asking him to head back, and grab food.  She included Diane’s order, as well as hers and Jet’s.  She told him to save the receipt; she would pay him when he got back.  A few minutes later, before Diane finished her call, her Tablet beeped, and she read the message from Brian telling her that the pickup was done, and he was grabbing the food and heading back.. He would be there in twenty minutes.  “Brian’s on his way.”

When the food arrived, the first thing that the girls did was take their new clothes up stairs and change out of the sweat suits.  Quartz grabbed a simple black cotton bra and after a few minutes of wrangling, figured out how to slip it on.  She then grabbed one of her black tees and a pair of simple jeans and slipped them on.  She went into the bathroom to check her reflection in the mirror, and smiled at the sight.  She looked like an ordinary young woman.  Well, if ordinary young women had chalk white skin and hair and F cup tits.  Still, she was pleased with the effect as she tied her hair back in a tail.  The black of the shirt offset her skin, and made her unusual appearance seem exotic, and not freakish.  She smiled into the mirror as she headed downstairs to go get her food.

The lovebirds were sitting at the table eating their food, and Diane looked up as Quartz sat down.  “Nice look.  Simple, yet feminine, but not overly so.  You know, what you two really need is a trip to a salon.  A day of getting pampered and primped would do you so much good.  Plus, you could get an expert to give you makeup advice.”

Quartz nearly choked on her hamburger.  When she recovered, she responded wryly, “Maybe later.”

Jet chimed in as she walked down the stairs, “Much later.”

Diane looked sad, and Brian laughed.  “That figures.  You two really should do the whole salon/spa thing at some point though.  It might help you come to terms with the whole girly thing.”

Quartz looked around, “There has got to be something we’ve forgotten.  What haven’t we done…”

Diane laughed.  “Desperate to change the subject?”

Jet mumbled something around a mouthful of hamburger that sounded remarkably like ‘hell yes!’  The others just laughed.

“Well,” Diane mused, “we haven’t done shoes yet.”

Quartz looked up, “Shoes, now there’s a quandary.  What size are we anyway?”

Diane looked at the readout on the interface for the projector, and fiddled for a bit.  “I would guess, about a 11 or 12, maybe a 13.  You’ve got small feet, relatively speaking.”

“Yeah, we wore size 15’s before.”  Quartz looked down at her feet.  They were indeed quite dainty.  “I guess I never noticed.  Hard to see my feet under these boobs.”

Jet swallowed the hunk of hamburger she had been chewing and asked Diane, “You have a shoe catalogue in there?”

Diane looked chagrined.  “Sorta.  It’s only high heels though.”

Jet gave Quartz a resigned look.  “Why does that not surprise me.”

“Well, why not.  Let’s take a look at the options.”  Quarts looked intrigued.  “There may actually be something decent in there.”

There were nods all around, reluctantly from Jet, but there was a consensus.  The next hour or so was spent looking at shoes, from strappy heels to sandals to boots.  There were actually two that the girls liked in the catalogue.  A high heeled combat boot, with a five inch heel, and a sandal with a low one and a half inch heel.  Both were utilitarian, the boot being both attractive and sturdy, and the sandal being comfortable and easy to get on and off.  Then they went through and sized several tennis and running shoes, and settled on a simple sneaker for everyday wear.  By the time they managed to settle on the specifics, it was late afternoon, and Diane and Brian headed out to pick the stuff up.  Diane went to get the coats, and Brian to get the shoes.

The twins killed the time playing mindless shooters on their various game consoles.  When Brian and Diane returned, the twins tried on the shoes and the coats.  The coats were a big hit.  Jet got a white coat, and Quartz a black.  Both coats were leather dusters, and came down to nearly their ankles.  There were slits cut into the back, hidden in the vents in the back of the duster, perfectly placed to allow their wings to unfurl through the back of the coat.  It was really a very clever design.

“Diane,” Jet gushed, “you are brilliant.”

“As much as it galls me,” Quartz mused, “I have to agree with my darker sister.  This is brilliant.”

Diane smiled.  “If I’m so very brilliant, then you can show your appreciation by trying on these.”  She held up the boots.  “I’ll love to see you pull these off.”

“Ah,” Jet grinned.  “The skyscraper boots.  This’ll be fun.”  She grabbed one of the black pair and started pulling them on.  As she was lacing them up her calves, she made a comment, “Interesting feeling.”

Quartz grunted in agreement.  “Definitely unique.”  She swung to her feet.  “Whoa.  Unique and unusual.  This is definitely a new feeling.”

Jet swayed to her feet and tried a few steps.  “Not what I expected, but I think I can manage.”  She staggered a few steps, and then centered herself, and slowly began to walk across the room.  As the other three watched she went from a unsteady wobble to a slow walk, to a steady stride.  Her gait altered to accommodate the heels, forcing her into a very feminine walk that seemed very out of place to her friends.  They stared at her in surprise.  “What?”

“How did you do that?”  Diane was stunned.

Jet grinned.  “All that fancy martial arts dancing did me some good then, eh?”

Brian laughed as Quartz shook her head.  “So, I’m going to have to learn to dance now?”  The expression on her face was one of mingled amusement and dismay.

“No,” Diane laughed.  “No, I don’t think so.  Just wear them.  All of tonight and tomorrow.  Take it easy the rest of the night, get some practice walking in those things tomorrow, and you should be fine.”

“Not up to any dancing fine,” Jet interjected, “but you should stop falling over.  It’s easier then it looks.”

Brian laughed.  “Think of it as coordination training.”

Quartz looked sour, and slowly started to stagger around the room.  After a few minutes, she grunted, “Right, well, I’m gonna make dinner, and then you two can scram.  I’m sure that your own bed are starting to look really nice after a week on our couch.”

Brian and Diane laughed, and started going about packing up their bags.  The dinner was Quartz’s usual fare, which is to say, excellent, and the two lovebirds left, leaving the twins alone in the house.  Quartz looked at Jet and smiled grimly.  “Only one thing left now.”

“Father,” Jet agreed.

“He’ll call tomorrow.”

“Most likely.”

“Just chill till then?”

“Enjoy the peace while it lasts.” Jet agreed.

The two of them headed into the house, to entertain themselves with movies and video games until late in the evening, and when they collapsed into bed in their nightgowns, they slept a dreamless sleep.  The next morning, the twins woke, dressed themselves in their new clothing, put on their boots, both deciding that they needed the practice, and continued their amusements from the night before.  But there was an uncomfortable tension under the merrymaking.  A sense of impending doom filled their day, as they played the hours away.  It was actually a relief when the house phone rang, and the caller ID said it was their father.

 

The image on the screen was not that of a happy man.  The senator’s stately, gentlemanly face, normally the perfect image of compassion and patience was distorted into a purpling grimace of irrational rage.  He wasn’t taking this well at all, was the thought crossing Quartz mind.  He had called them at a little past 4:30 in the afternoon, and things had gone south from the moment that she and Jet had answered the phone.

“Hello father.”  Their greeting had been usual and formal, completely automatic.  The response was not.

“What the hell are you things doing in my house?!?!  Where are my sons?”

Jet tensed, and Quarts could tell she was suddenly terrified.  Quickly she moved to calm their father.  “Father, it’s us.  It’s Daniel and Samuel.  We caught MORFS.”

Their father stared at them for a long moment.  Then he exploded.  “NO!  My blood breeds true!  You are not my sons.  You are terrorists, criminals, seeking to exploit me.”  He was ranting, raving.  Quartz tried to get a word in edgewise, but could not.  The ranting continued, and the senator’s face began to purple.

The two of them stood there and endured the verbal abuse, the cursing, the insults, all the while trying to get through that they really were his sons.  He refused to believe them.  “Enough,” he screamed, “you two have till tonight to give my sons back, and that’s all the head start I’m going to give you.  If you’ve harmed them, I’ll hunt you down and exterminate you, vermin!”  The connection was abruptly cut.

 

“Well, that went well.”  Jet’s tone held enough sarcasm to sink a small ocean liner.

“Yeah.”  Quartz sighed in resignation, “Well, we might as well wait up.  He’s probably gong to call the security detail and report a kidnapping.  We just wait till they come by and pick us up.”

Jet nodded.  “Right.  Then we use an identity test to match us to him, and we’re good idea.  Then we get disowned.”

“Right.  Can’t say we didn’t see this coming.”

“Nope.”

“Pack?”

“Small, what we can carry by hand.”

“Just the new stuff then, and the essentials.”

They got to it.  All of their new wardrobe went into self sealing vacuum storage packs.  They got their entire wardrobe, what there was of it, into a duffle bag each.  Then they started on the essentials as they called it.  Quartz got her tablet and its charger, most of her rarer and hard to get paraphernalia. Then she grabbed her books, and started storing them in travel boxes, and taping them and labeling them for mailing.  Next, she grabbed her movie collection, stored in binders, and packed that with the tablet.  The video games and consoles went next.  Then she was done.  It all fit in two duffels, save for the books, which filled four large mailing boxes.  She set the labels on the boxes, wired the postage, and set them in the manor mail room.  Each box included a letter to the recipient, Diane, telling her to hide the boxes until Quartz could come and get them.  Then she went to see her sister.

They were both in their nightgowns.  They had set out one set of clothes, the ‘flying clothes,’ for tomorrow.  They had decided that those were their most impressive.  Quartz had her two duffels, and Jet had a duffel and what looked like a golf bag.  Quartz eyed the longer bag.  “Taking the cutlery with?”

“Hell yeah.  This stuff is expensive.”  Jet was furious.  Her shock had worn of, and now her anger at their father was obvious in her expression.

“Point.  Pun intended.”

“Keep that up and I’ll give you a point.”

“Well, it’s almost midnight.  One would think that if they were coming…”

“They would be here by now.  Put this stuff in the hall closet.  We’ll grab it in the morning.”

“Right.  Lets get some sleep.  Tomorrow promises to be a fun day.”

They both retired to their respective rooms, laying down for a rest, weary from the emotional toll of the day.  Outside, the green glow of a night vision visor glowed eerily in the dark.

 

Malcolm Stark observed the manor from his vantage point on their transport.  This whole op stank.  They were here to take out some terrorists, but from what he saw these were just some kids.  They moved around that house with an ease that implied intimate familiarity, and that made him doubt the claim that they were terrorists.  There wasn’t nearly enough wariness in them.  He looked at his troop mates, and saw none of his doubts reflected in their faces.  Their briefing had been unusually short.  The commander had come in and told them that terrorists had kidnapped the Carmichael twins and had put impostors in their place.  They were to go in and eliminate them.  It was assumed that they had some sort of telepathy that would allow them to get others to assume that they were indeed the individuals in question.  They were simply to go in and kill them at the most convenient moment.

The whole operation stank.  This wasn’t what he had signed up in the special forces for.  He got into the Delta Forces to protect people, not execute kids.  But orders were orders, and he had no choice.  He sighed, and muttered under his breath, “This sucks.”

“What was that solider.”  His commander’s voice was a harsh whisper in his ear.

“Nothing sir, just a quick prayer for success.”  His response was automatic.

“Good.  Stark, you take James, Di’Orio, Nielson, McDowell and Lasher and take them out.”  The command was quiet and brutal.  “Make it quick, and don’t let them talk to you.  No warning.”

Malcolm took his weapon, slung it over his shoulder and grabbed one of the repelling ropes, and the craft came to a hover over the balcony on the south side of the manor.  He slid down the rope, and silently landed on the balcony.  The five other members of his team landed just as noiselessly around him.  He motioned them to the door, and stood there with his weapon ready while Di’Orio opened the glass door, and he quickly stepped into the room.  It was a large bedroom, mostly empty, with posters on the wall, and a large desk and bookshelf.  There was a large bed set next to the glass doors, with a window over it.  Lying on the bed was a young woman, most likely under twenty-one.  She was thin and lithe, with just barely visible muscle tone under her supple skin.  Her incredibly ample breasts rose and fell softly with her breathing, making her black nightgown ripple slightly.  Her pale, chalk white skin gleamed softly in the moonlight.

He motioned for James, Nelson, and Lasher to head through the hall to the other room to take care of the other one.  He shouldered his weapon, and walked over to the bed, while signing to Di’Orio and McDowell to cover him.  He slowly drew his sidearm and placed its barrel just a fraction of an inch away from the bridge of her nose, right between her eyes.  Softly he whispered, “I’m sorry,” and blinked back tears.

 

Then he pulled the trigger.

 

END CHAPTER TWO

 

 

The entire MORFS  Universe can be found at http://morfs.nowhere2go.org/Encyclopedia.html

 


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