Message-ID: <4916eli$9710161158@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: vickietern@aol.com (VickieTern) Subject: New TG: Fury 15/37 Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-Id: <19971016133601.JAA11924@ladder02.news.aol.com> Hell Hath No Fury Part 15 of 37 ================================ (c) Darkside@nym.alias.net If you are'nt legally entitled to read this. Don't ------------------------------------------------------------------ 7. F+ 5 Days .Fun, Fun, Fun In The Sun, Sun, Sun - DR Elizabeth Bexley's Tale. ==================================================== Since I am now effectively in exile I must now prepare a new place for me to live, both in body and habitat. I'm so glad we developed a GUI for this system. Now let me see what we need. I'm quite content to let the media have their fun with HIM. No doubt my parents are there now and HE is trying to explain. Let him try is what I say. The threat board is empty as they say. Now about my new body. I quite like the sound of being a model. I can come and go as I please, earn lots of money and generally live it up. I've still got the twelve million in New Zealand to collect but I'll do that after I've changed. I won't give myself any fixer when I'm the new me in case I want to become someone else, now how tall should I be. After about an hour I've decided that a clean six foot is the right size. I was very happy at five ten but it gives me a couple of extra inches to add to the legs. Now skin tone, Nicely tanned but not too much I think. A couple of mouse clicks later and the image of a six foot amazon rotated in 3D on screen. Hmm maybe a little more curves. Click, Click That's better. General muscle tone. Athletic but not overly muscled. Kind of Demi Moore level. Excellent. Legs maybe a little too short at the moment. Let's make them three inches longer. Perfect. About my new breasts. I've enjoyed having Kat's but maybe they would look a little small on such a tall frame. Click Ooops not that large. No about 38D is about right. Excellent. Arms. I'll keep my own I think. I have surgeons hands and don't want to lose them. Ok don't forget to change the finger prints though. Done. Now what about my new face. Hair, I've always wanted to be a blonde so blonde it is. Eyes My own again I think, blue with an everso slight hint of gray. Nose A little smaller than my old one, Hmm not that small. Yep just right. As for my voice. I really liked mine, but I can't use that one. I know I'll give tweak my old voice a little. Take out that tendency to go ultrasonic when mad. Add a little European flavor, after all the new me will have been in Europe for four years. Excellent. Face shape that's not too difficult, long and oval with high cheekbones. I know what I'll let the system choose. A couple of hours later the most incredible face I'd ever seen looked out. It went beyond the current standards of beauty and set new standards in female perfection. It was simply breathtaking. I looked at my watch I had been concentrating hard for almost twenty hours and was in need of some sleep. So after setting the drug production system running I crashed out until the following day. When I awoke sometime in the afternoon my doses were all done, now all that remains is to make a past for the new me and to change into her. A quick call to the US branch of the guild would sort out the former. "This is Hippolyte. Switch to encryption code 27.I have a request" I said I keyed in the code on my phone, now even the CIA couldn't listen in. "Yes" "I wish to create a new person". "One hundred thousand" The voice said. "Done, the Money will be in the usual place. As will a photograph. I want delivery in two days" I said. "What are the details?" said the voice. "Name: Rachel Martin, Height six feet, weight 135 pounds. Sex female, blood group O negative Born 15th May 1973 in Versailles, France". "Got that. History?" The voice asked. "Parents Rod and Angela Martin. They were US citizens working in France when Rachel was born. Killed in auto accident 10th June 1995. Rachel is only child". "Carry On"The voice said. "She attended Oxford University, England from 1991 to 1994 She gained first class honors in bio-chemistry and Human Biology. Fluent in five non English languages(French,Italian,German,Arabic and Spanish) Currently hitching around Europe doing non-descript jobs." I said. Perfect Rachel Martin now had all my skill sets so that I could slip into the role much easier. "Anything else?" I outlined some more detail, enough so that if anyone probed into my new life they would see nothing out of order. Rachel Martin brains and beauty all rolled into one. Over the next two days I ate nothing but carbohydrates and protein. Loosing body mass was easy on the body, it could just burn the excess off to fuel the change. Since I was now five seven and weighed less than Rachel Martin my body would need all the fuel it could get to grow to six feet. I stayed at a local motel noting on the news reports that the Bexley trial was still headline news. The media was still asking why?. Only I and my doppleganger knew the real reason. I took my next face pill this time as Jennifer Wilkinson. As my hair turned from blonde to red and face altered shape I rejoiced in my triumph. Soon I will be the world's most perfect woman. I picked up Rachel Martin's details from a nearby cave and studied them, the guild had excelled themselves. A quick shop for some clothes for Rachel Martin and a ticket to Paris and I was set. Still as Jennifer Wilkinson I flew to Paris where the fashion week was in full flow. It's time Rachel Martin got discovered. I checked into a small hotel in Versailles so that I could look around my 'birthplace' and took my Rachel Martin pill. I lay naked on the bed waiting for the changes to occur. I had no wish to feel anything so I had added a sedative to the pill and I began to feel drowsy and I drifted off to sleep. I awoke feeling utterly exhausted and looked down. I can only describe the view as stunning, my legs went on forever, perfect in every way. My waist was slim and hips wide enough to form a graceful curve. I stood up. Wow This is tall, I'd forgotten what a shortass I'd been. I moved over to the mirror and was transfixed by my new face. It was as though God had taken all the best parts of every beautiful woman who had ever lived and had combined them into this face. It made Helen of Troy look dowdy. I smiled. THAT face smiled, it was real, it was me. I put on my new outfit, only a pair of jeans and a silk blouse. Even in that I looked stunning. Now to get famous. I paid the bill for Jennifer Wilkinson in cash and walked out into the Paris sunshine. Even walking down the street jaws were dropping. Every male from the lusty teenager to the elderly war hero was agog. Wives and girlfriends dragged husbands away as they ogled my every curve. Women looked on in jealousy and admiration. The impact was everything I had ever hoped for. I took the subway to one of the largest fashion shows. Bluffed, bribed and flirted my way in. The show had obviously finished as people were milling around talking about it. As I walked in those who saw me stopped talking and a few whispered 'My God' and 'WHO IS THAT!'. The room soon went quiet as a chain reaction of silence took place. Estee Lauder was my chosen point of contact and their rep was still engaged in conversation with someone else, oblivious to the lack of noise in the room. Bold as brass I walked up behind her and tapped her on the shoulder and said in perfect French 'Can you find a job for me?'. She whirled round, looked up and with a 'sacre bleu' dropped her champagne glass,which promptly shattered. She called out to her supervisor and he came rushing over. His reaction was much the same as hers. Before I knew it I was being rushed into a limo and was made an offer for nine million a year to be the new face of Estee Lauder. Elizabeth Hurley make way Elizabeth Bexley is here. I made sure the contract was non-exclusive and signed. Five million up front and I start a shoot on Monday. Three weeks went in a blur. I had really enjoyed being fussed over and the media has gone Rachel Martin mad. I sat in the spa in my hotel room(The Paris Hilton penthouse of course) reading La Monde. 'Cinderella makes good' was the head line. Marcel, my agent(I even have an agent now) is fending off calls from every magazine in the world from Vogue,Cosmo and even the National Enquirer. He's had calls from Penthouse and Playboy offering multi- million dollar deals for a nude Rachel Martin. Sorry boys no deal. The assignments are mounting up but I had instructed Marcel to only accept the elite. This meant deals running into the millions, nothing else. My next assignment was a shoot for the cover of Vogue and a series of adverts for Estee Lauder. These started in a month. I could pick and choose any assignment I wished. Advertising agency's were prepared to wait for a year for a Rachel Martin shoot. That suited me just fine. I've taken a month off before I start on another assignment in the US. I'll use this time to retrieve my nest egg from New Zealand. But I'll tell Marcel it's a publicity tour for me. Everywhere I went was paparazzi. I got Marcel to book me tickets to Auckland and he delivered them and asked me to be careful. I assured him I could take care of myself and I left for Charles-de Gaule airport. Twenty four hours on a plane is a long time, even when flying first class. I should have asked for a jet I thought. Even sitting down in my most scruffy clothes people still looked. I did sleep most of the way over though. My thoughts on what I had to do when I landed. New Zealand was colder than I had expected but I guess I was in their Winter. Fortunately news of my fame had not reached here, although I had been followed by a few intrepid photo journalists. I checked into the best Hotel in Auckland, whose name escapes me and called the bank and a local security firm. I got the security firm to pick up the safe key from me and take the money and deposit it into one of my Rachel Martin accounts. I made another call to an exclusive real estate agent. Who turned up within the hour after I explained to him what I wanted. Sometime later and eleven million dollars poorer I was the proud owner of a small island in the Indian Ocean. I called the guild from a call box and arranged for the contents of Rhamnus to be shipped out and installed there. No problem they said. It should take three weeks to set it up if they airlifted it out. I wanted them to clear out Rhamnus completely, no traces. I also told them how to deactivate the traps around the system. Don't want any accidents do we. Stage two complete. The next day I flew to Male, the capital of the Maldives and took a seaplane to my new Island. The house was nice in a desert Island sort of way. I'd soon see that it matched my specifications but that was a much later task. In the meantime I walked around my haven in my bikini. Fuck this is a good body. There were lots of hidden caves and beaches perfect for storing things that I might not want any guests to see. If only HE was here things would have been perfect, but HE chose a different path. I debated whether to ask the guild of any news on Kat and Cathline but that would link Hippolyte with Nemises and I did not want that. I hope Kat has got the worse deal out of the two. I suspect Cathline will enjoy herself with all those women around. What shall I call this place?. I can't really call it Rhamnus as I no longer regard myself as 'Nemesis' more Helen of Troy. I know I'll call it my 'White Isle' after the place where Helen of Troy went to live with Achilles. It's also fitting as one legend says that Helen of Troy was the daughter of Nemesis. I love Mythology it provides an endless pool of names and metaphors. I spent a further two weeks on my 'White Isle' fixing things up myself but mainly just enjoying the sun,sea and surf. I lay content on the beach with my portable CD playing one of my favorite songs. The words were just so apt. "I'm the face you hoped you'd never see but always knew you would I'm the one thing you knew you should'nt do but did because you could I'm the evil in your bloodstream I'm the rash upon your skin And you made a big mistake alright the day you let me in". The music blasted out across the beach, merging into the sounds of the sea. Hmm this place is heaven. Oh well next week it's off to the states for another shoot. F+2 Months 8. F+2 Months 'Shah mat'(The king is dead) - Cathline's Tale. ============================================================= I am in what can only be described as a living hell. I have been chained up for four months or so my guard tells me. My eye is better and no longer hurts. Osman had to give me a course of anti-biotics to cure an infection soon afterwards but that has long gone. I am fed by my jailer three times a day, with a couple hours worth of exercise outside. The only good thing is that I have learned some Arabic and so can therefore talk to my captors, the worst part is when the guards come. I am raped at least twice a day. I no longer care, that part of me has been shut down. A guard walks in does his stuff with me and then leaves. Being chained spread-legged to the wall I cannot fight back. That awful day when I lost my eye has destroyed the fight in me and left me a cold automation. If I don't look keen to see them I just get slapped around, the end result is still the same though. Here comes a guard now, I must smile, look pleased to see him. The guard walks up to me and undoes my chains. He mutters a single word "out". I stagger upstairs and am almost blinded by the sun. I stare at my skin which has gone a pale white but the rest of me seems to be ok. I am dragged to a courtyard that I have not yet seen before and told to stand with some other girls. They stare at me in horror. I don't know if it's my patch that scares them or my complexion. They are talking excitedly about something. I hear Osman's name muttered followed by laughter. What has happened? I ask one of the girls in my broken Arabic "What has happened?" "Master Osman is dead" She said. "How?" I asked. "You killed him, when you bit him. He caught a disease from the wound and died in great pain". She said. Score one for the good guys. I thought. "What will happen to us?" "We are to be sold again, as part of his property. You are labelled as a troublemaker, that is why Master Osman took your eye. You should have obeyed. You will most likely go back to your pit" My heart sank. A lifetime of rape lay ahead. Hang on here comes a white limo. A tall, very handsome man got out and looked around. The driver got out and opened the farside door and I caught a glimpse of a lady with very long flowing black hair. She looked around at the courtyard and then at the girls on display. "I am saved. It is Hassan" The girl next to me said with glee. The lady turned,saw me and stared. I stared back. I if didn't know any better I would have to say she was Jasmine from Aladdin. She spoke to who I presume was Hassan and pointed at me. A guard came over and unchained me. The other girls looked on in envy as I was hustled into the limo. I sat down bewildered at had what just occurred. Somehow this Hassan and 'Jasmine' had just brought me but for what? The girl who was standing next to me seemed relieved to see Hassan but why? 'Jasmine' got in the limo and said in perfect English. "Hi, my names Jane Stephens but you can call me Kat". F + 63 Days. ------------------------------------------------------------------------- Have You Missed a Part?. The complete version of 'Hell Hath No Fury' Can be found at http://www.nifty.org/nifty/transgender under Magic-SciFi or Sapphire's Excellent website at http://www1.mhv.net/sapphire or http://www1.mhv.net/sapphire/zip/furytril.zip to go right to it. Comments etc should be directed to darkside@nym.alias.net Vickie Tern@AOL.COM -- +--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+ | story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us | | Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | \ .../assm/faq.html> /