Part IX

If you're under 18 or dislike Transgender stories, don't read this.

I would like to thank Anyport for his permission to write this sequel to his story, The Transformation, and use the characters he created. I would like to thank Tigger for allowing me to include a guest appearance by his character, "Aunt" Jane Thompson. I would especially like to thank Steve Zink for editing such a very long story for me.

(This story is set in the Vaingirls universe.)
©2003 Turn Right Productions

Dainie looked adorable thought Joan as they stood on the Adams Street sidewalk that ran in front of the Sears Tower, watching as the limo that had brought Dainie sped away with Rose inside it. She appeared very nervous to see her mommy driving away, but Joan knew that Rose had told Dainie that she, Dr. Joan, was in charge and that she should not worry and just do whatever Dr. Joan told her to do. Dainie gripped her hand tightly with her left hand, and clutched Sukie with the other. A round Barbie suitcase rested on the sidewalk by her feet. She seemed totally unworried about how she might appear to others, an almost six foot tall, six-year-old girl in an extra large size six-year-old's party dress.

Joan was having mixed feelings about what she might discover in the two days Little Dainie, Adain, or even grown woman Dainie - whoever the hell this person holding her hand in a Vulcan Death Grip REALLY was - would be with her. On the one hand, the old Evil Joan, still very much around, hoped that Rose and Salielah were exactly what they claimed to be, bitches just like her. That Dainie was exactly what she appeared to be, an adult male multi- billionaire business man turned into a shy and submissive little girl by two dominating women.

On the other hand, Good Joan, struggling to take over, wanted out of the shemale slavery business and hoped that Rose, Salielah, and Dainie were not what they seemed, that it was all an act. The problem for Good Joan was, an act with what goal? Was it revenge and punishment, or rehabilitation? She didn't mind rehabilitation, would, in fact, welcome it, but revenge and punishment was another matter. Like Lou and Ed, she had seen "Scared Straight" as a teenager, and wanted no part of prison. And there were worse things; if Rose was really serious about what she wanted Joan to do to Lou and Ed, what might she have planned for her when the facade of offered friendship had been stripped away? She had felt that two days with Dainie/Adain might give her the answers.

She looked at Dainie. Dainie was wearing patent leather Mary Jane's on her feet - 'Got to be at least size 10,' she thought - and ankle socks with turned down lacy tops. Her legs were bare and smooth. Just a hint of white ruffled panties peeked from under the white petticoats of her pink party dress. Despite her size, she was not a caricature. Her chest was flat like a six-year-old's would be, and she was wearing only a light pink lip gloss and maybe a touch of mascara. Her hair was in the twin ponytails Rose had said she loved. "Would you like something to eat, Sweetie? Are you hungry?" she asked.

Dainie shifted from one foot to the other, looked down, and answered in a little girl's voice, "Sukie likes toasted cheese sandwiches and tomato soup, Dr. Joan ..." she paused, and then somewhat reluctantly, "... and can we go in right now, Dr. Joan, please, I have to use the toilet." She was almost hopping from one foot to the other.

Joan picked up the Barbie suitcase, and led the way into the Tower. "Of course, dear." Then she looked at the doll. "Sukie, you are in luck. I just happen to have everything we need for cheese sandwiches and tomato soup!"

The elevator ride to Joan's floor was uneventful, once Joan explained to Dainie that she didn't have to press ALL the buttons.

Once inside her apartment, she showed a very relieved Dainie where the bathroom was and, once she was done there, where she would be sleeping, her room. "You'll be sleeping with me, in my bed, Dainie," she explained, pointing to her queen size canopy bed with the flowered bedspread. "It's big enough for the two of us AND Sukie." She watched closely to see if there was any hint of a male reaction to sleeping with her. There wasn't. Joan shook her head.

She noticed that Dainie wasn't looking at the bed, but, instead was looking at her dressing table. She was looking longingly at the makeup and jewelry on it. Suddenly, she seemed to realize that maybe she was doing something she wasn't supposed to, and turned back to Joan. "That'll be FUN, Dr. Joan. Can we have a slumber party? Will you put makeup on me?" she asked excitedly.

Smiling in spite of herself, Joan held up both hands. "Down, girl! We'll see about that; one thing at a time. First, let's get you and Sukie fed." And she led the way into her kitchen.

As Joan was attempting to access cooking skills very seldom used these days, she noticed out of the corner of her eye that Dainie, sitting at the kitchen table, had placed Sukie in a sitting position on the edge of the table in front of her, legs dangling over, and was apparently engaged in whispered conversation with her. Every once in a while she would cock her head as if listening to the doll's replies. All of a sudden, into Joan's mind popped the picture of Bogie holding the Maltese Falcon. 'Now, where did that come from?' she wondered. Then, all of a sudden, it made sense; she couldn't be sure, but hadn't the Maltese Falcon been hollow?!

Joan checked and saw that the sandwiches were done, and the soup steaming. She placed a sandwich on a Christmas plate - she thought Dainie would enjoy that - and ladled soup into a Christmas bowl till it was half full. She placed the plate and bowl on a Christmas tray, folded a napkin - plain white, she was out of Christmas napkins - around a spoon, and stuck it under the edge of the plate. She used a steak knife to cut the sandwich diagonally down the middle, and then cut one of the halves in half again. She carried the tray over to Dainie, and set it on the table. "You'll have to move Sukie, dear," she said. "May I hold her for a minute? She's so pretty."

Dainie looked up at Joan and smiled. She handed Sukie to her. "Sukie thinks you're pretty, too, Dr. Joan." Then she looked at the tray, which Joan nudged over in front of her, and giggled. "It's not Christmas, Dr. Joan!"

Joan moved so that her hands holding Sukie were out of sight of Dainie. As she spoke, she began to carefully squeeze every inch of the doll. "Oh, I know that, dear, but your coming to stay with me was like receiving a nice present, so I thought of Christmas. Besides, don't they tell us every Christmas that we should keep Christmas all year 'round?" There was a lump in Sukie's left foot that was not repeated in her right foot. She would have to wait till later, after Dainie went to bed, to investigate further, but she was almost sure she'd find a miniature microphone and transmitter. That was okay; she wanted Rose to know what Dainie was experiencing.

Dainie giggled again. "You're funny, Dr. Joan." Then, as if it just occurred to her, she got a sly look on her face. "If I'm your present, where's my present?"

Joan laughed in spite of herself. If this wasn't real, if it really was Adain Ben Hariesh inside the cute packaging, he was one HELL of a good actor! "That's my surprise, sweetie." She handed Sukie back to Dainie, with the comment that one of the quarter sandwiches was for the doll. "You get to pick it out; we're going SHOPPING!"

Dainie's eyes lit up. "Really, Dr. Joan? Really? Where? I love FAO Schwarz, Dr. Joan; they have really neat toys there, and about a zillion Barbies! When, Dr. Joan? When?" She was almost bouncing in her chair.

Sukie, forgotten for a moment, had slumped over and looked to Joan somewhat like a bag lady seated on a curb and about ready to puke. "FAO Schwarz it is, my dear. Although I don't know if Michigan Avenue is ready for a couple of power shoppers like you and I."

Dainie was giggling again, and it was infectious; Joan found herself starting to giggle, too. She started to reach to grab Dainie up into a hug, and then with a shock realized she'd forgotten for a moment that the little girl she was going to do that to was really a full grown man; she had been caught in the illusion.

"You talk just like Mommy, Dr. Joan," commented Dainie. "Can we go right now? Sukie wasn't hungry, so I ate her part of the sandwich." She rescued the presumably purged Sukie from her slumped over position and held her in her lap.

"We're waiting for Miss Robbie, Dainie," Joan replied. "I have to take care of some business after our 'treasure hunt', and I need both of you to help me. She'll help us shop; I think she'll love going through the Barbie section of FAO Schwarz with you. Would you like that?"

"Oh, yes, Dr. Joan! Miss Robbie was really nice to me AND to Sukie when we were in the car waiting for Mommy to tell us to come up to your office. Lots of people just 'nore Sukie. And then when we were riding the big elevator up, she was the only one who could reach the button for your floor, but she didn't push it; instead, she held me up and let me push it like a big girl. She's NICE!"

"Yes, she is," agreed Joan. She thought of Robbie lifting Adain- sized Dainie. 'And big enough to be a major help in a fight if things go wrong this afternoon.'

Good Joan had decided that some major fence mending was in order, and she wanted Dainie along to see it so that what she did would get back to Rose. She had already run a check on the current status of the "men" who had raped her. Much to Evil Joan's dismay, Good Joan had decided they'd been punished enough, and that she would do what she could to make life easier for them. She had contacted "Little Sissy Billie's" owner in the Middle East, and found that he had already set her free and set her up in a local dry cleaning shop. She was married to her former owner's butler, and they had several adopted children. When contacted, she had e- mailed Joan that she was quite happy. Joan had arranged a trust fund for the children's education, and sent the chemical to unfreeze her vocal chords.

Poor George - "Titerecta" - had died. "Heart attack due to overweight" had read the death certificate. Evil Joan had laughed, but Good Joan knew that George's death would weigh on her conscience; she didn't even realize the irony of using the term "weigh".

The two she'd found overseas had, after several sales, wound up in the hands of the Taliban in Afghanistan, and she had been unable to find out anything about them. More weight on Good Joan's conscience.

Stan/Stella was a different case. The price of absolution in regard to Stan required that Good Joan actually come face to face with one of the creatures Evil Joan had created. The afternoon stop on her, Dainie, and Robbie's trip today was to be the Whip and Cuff Club.

Dainie was practically bouncing off the walls by the time Robbie arrived. Both Robbie and Joan were wearing fairly conservative "Ladies who Lunch" dresses, and Dainie had changed to a plaid jumper and white blouse, keeping the Mary Jane shoes. Her hair, of course, was still in her favorite twin pony tails. Grabbing Joan's right hand and Robbie's left, she practically pulled them out the door. "C'mon, Dr. Joan, Miss Robbie, we've got SHOPPING to do!"

Both women laughed, but were reminded as they were almost yanked off their feet that they were dealing with an adult male, six- year-old girl. "Dainie!" Joan said sharply. The change in Dainie was dramatic and instantaneous. She seemed to shrink in on herself as if she expected some awful punishment. Evil Joan was all for that, but there was less and less of Evil Joan. Good Joan immediately smiled and changed her tone and, although she physically stayed standing, actually looking up, mentally she knelt down to the level of a real six-year-old. "Honey, honey, I'm not mad at you, but you have to remember that we are three ladies out for the day. Ladies do not drag other ladies around, now do they?"

Dainie, looking down at the ground, shook her head no.

"And you want to learn how to be a grown up lady, don't you?" Dainie nodded yes. "Well, Sukie does, too, and you have to teach Sukie, don't you?"

Dainie smiled, and this time spoke. "Yes, Dr. Joan." She paused a moment. "Dr. Joan?"

"Yes, dear?"

"Do you really think I can grow up to be a nice lady like you and Miss Robbie? I want to, but sometimes it's so hard. Sometimes I look in the mirror and it seems like there's a big dark shadow man behind me. Sometimes he tries to tell me things, but I turn and run to Mommy and she makes it all right. Will you help me to become a lady, Dr. Joan and Miss Robbie, so the shadow man won't visit me in the mirror any more?"

Joan's heart melted, and both she and Robbie had tears in their eyes. Evil Joan dwindled down, rolled up, and with a virtual "poof", disintegrated. "Oh, of course we will, honey!" said both women at the same time. And this time, Joan did hug her, and Robbie hugged her from the back.

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'They are going to HAVE to give me an Oscar!' thought Adain, from the comfort of the virtual recliner. He was letting his Little Dainie persona run on autopilot and improvise. 'Shadow Man. Damn, I'm good. Let "Dr. Joan" chew on that for a while.'

'Damn, she ... oops, he's good!' thought Robbie. 'If this act doesn't fool Joan, nothing will. Hell, it's almost fooling ME!'

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Evil Joan had planned to use the trip along Michigan Ave. to try and humiliate Adain as often as possible, to get him to break character. If she could reduce Dainie to a blubbering, scared, hopeless mess without Adain "coming out", then she would know Rose was telling the truth. She could not imagine an adult male who was just acting putting up with all the humiliation she planned to inflict.

As it was, Evil Joan never had a chance. Adain had read Machiavelli and Mao and just about everyone else on military and diplomatic strategy, and had taken to heart the maxim that "The best defense is a good offense." He had planned all along to have Little Dainie launch a preemptive strike, but SHE, not he, had been the one to come up with the Shadow Man.

The morning was fun. Joan left Robbie and Dainie at FAO Schwarz and walked North to Oak St. and then several blocks west to the MAC Cosmetics outlet and treated herself to a make over; she wanted to get just the right look for dealing with Stan/Stella. She hadn't had someone else apply her makeup in years, and had forgotten how luxurious it felt.

Robbie and Dainie ooohed and aahhed over every Barbie in FAO Schwarz. Even though Joan was not present, neither felt any need to break character. If the truth be told, admiring the Barbies ceased to be an act as both Robbie and Dainie - and, yes, even Adain - took pleasure in admiring the beautiful dolls. The only crack came when Dainie mischievously looked at Robbie and said innocently, "Miss Robbie, it's too bad Auntie Barbara couldn't come with us."

The thought of the mayhem that would ensue if ex-Navy Seal, ex- CIA, Barbie-hating private investigator Barbara Dahal were to find herself surrounded by hundreds of "That Damn Doll" was too much. Robbie stuffed her fists against her mouth to try and stop from laughing, but couldn't, and as soon as she started, so did Dainie, unfortunately dropping into Adain's tonal range every once in a while. It is a measure of the tolerance of Chicagoans and their appreciation of cultural diversity that not one patron of FAO Schwarz acted in any way odd in the presence of a deep voiced, giggling, 5'10" tall little girl and her equally loud adult companion.

Joan found them out in front of the store on the sidewalk, sitting next to each other in one of the sidewalk art sculptures, a couch shaped like a Chicago hot dog, that had replaced the cows of several years ago as THE Chicago tourist attraction; they were both smiling. "Well, what have you two been up to?" she asked. Robbie and Dainie looked at each other, and burst out laughing.

"What?" from a perplexed Joan.

This just increased the fit of giggling, and Dainie stretched out her arm and pointed at the door of FAO Schwarz. "Aunt Robbie and I had fun!"

'Aunt Robbie?' Caught herself in the illusion, Robbie felt flattered that this beautiful and happy little girl would think of her as her aunt.

'Aunt Robbie?' Joan threw up her hands. "I don't even want to know!" But she was smiling, too. She walked to the curb and hailed a cab. When one pulled over, she looked inside to check out the driver and make sure the cab was clean. She noted with approval that the driver was a woman.

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Barbara Dahal had changed her hair color, stripped off her nail polish, and put on more makeup than she usually did. That, plus a rather worn black leather jacket, constituted her disguise. She could not remember ever meeting Joan Adkins, but it was better to be safe than sorry. Robbie had known of Joan's plans for the day and had informed The Group. Rose, when she had been Ross/Nick Mitchell, had visited the Whip and Cuff Club and had seen Stella; she had decided to provide backup just in case Joan's plan went awry. Barbara had also, in a professional capacity, visited the Whip and Cuff, and she was comforted by the feel of her Webley- Vickers in it's shoulder holster.

She had not seen Stella, but what she had seen convinced her that it, unlike the street sculpture, was not something the mayor would tout as a tourist attraction - at least not publicly.

As Joan had approached the two on the sidewalk, Robbie had activated her pager to send a signal to Barbara two blocks away, and now here she was picking up the three. "Where to?"

"Do you know The Whip and Cuff Club on Fargo?" Joan had entered last, and answered the driver's question with her own. The driver nodded. 'She thinks we probably belong there,' thought Joan as she settled into her seat and looked over at LARGE little Dainie between her and Robbie. Dainie was positioning the middle seat belt around herself and Sukie.

Joan smiled. "That's a good girl, Dainie, to think of Sukie's safety; that's what a mommy does." She tried to make her voice serious but not scary. "Well, your mommy isn't here, but I'm sort of taking her place, right?"

Dainie nodded.

"I'm going to tell you some things, Sweetie, and you need to listen carefully so you can do exactly what I say. Remember when you and Mommy came to see me, and she made you do some things you didn't like? Remember how you felt good when they were over and you knew Mommy had made you do them for your own good?" Again Dainie nodded, although a bit nervously. "Well, we're going to what may be a very scary place because Dr. Joan has some business she has to take care of, and she needs you to see what she does, so you can tell Mommy. You need to be a big girl and do exactly what I tell you, even if you're scared. I'll be there, and Aunt Robbie will be there; we won't let anything bad happen to you. Can you do that, be a big girl for us?"

Dainie looked at both women apprehensively, but then sat up straight. "Yes, Dr. Joan, Aunt Robbie, I CAN be a big girl!" she stated proudly, but she gripped Joan's left and Robbie's right hands tightly. ('Bigger than you think, Joan,' thought Adain. 'Bigger than you think!')

The cab pulled away, leaving Joan, Robbie, and Dainie standing on the Fargo Street curb looking up at the building that housed the Whip and Cuff Club on its 13th floor. The building had been built in the late twenties as a hotel. The owner had been a devotee of 19th Century romances, and the building looked like it belonged in the Carpathian Alps. Robbie, who had never seen the building, thought it looked like something out of a Bram Stoker novel; all it needed were bats flying in and out of the upper windows. Joan, who, of course, had been there before, found the exterior appropriate, giving hints to what lay inside.

The gothic theme was carried on inside, where a huge fireplace framed by gargoyles dominated the lobby. A stone arch framed the elevator doors. Inside the elevator, the button for the 13th floor was surrounded by a miniature black handcuff. There were no buttons for floors 14 and 15.

When they exited the elevator, they found themselves confronted by the entrance to the club, which took up the whole 13th floor and the two above it. The overly large door was framed in red, and covered with black leather. About three quarters of the way up and in the middle was a single relatively small oval window, it's frame in the likeness of a coiled whip. The door knocker was in the likeness of a single handcuff. The entire front of the establishment, with the exception of the door frame, was black. The only disclosure that this was indeed their destination was a stainless steel plaque by the door with "Whip and Cuff Club" etched in black gothic lettering into the shiny metal along with the club logo. As they approached, the door swung silently open without any action on their part. Robbie's, "What, no squeaking door?" did NOT get alaugh from either Joan or Dainie.

They stepped over the threshold into a dark corridor lighted by lamps made to look like flaming torches; Dainie scrunched herself up against Joan, and both Joan and Robbie were about to say something to the effect that she had to lessen the vise-like grip on their hands when panels in the ceiling lighted up, giving the corridor a much more normal appearance.

"Joan!" a voice boomed, and into the corridor stepped a gentleman who, except for the fact that he was wearing a normal navy pin striped business suit, looked exactly like Santa Claus. He opened his arms, and Joan stepped into them for a hug.

"Jack, you old reprobate! Nice to see you, too." Jack released his hold, and she stepped back and turned to Dainie, mentally kneeling down again to a normal six-year-old's level. She was about to introduce her friend when she saw the look of wonder on Dainie's face; she was looking right past Joan.

"S-santa?"

Immediately picking up on the name, Jack gave Dainie his best, "Ho Ho Ho!" and came closer. "You must be Dainie. Your Dr. Joan told me that you were coming today. I'm afraid I'm not Santa, but I do occasionally like to think that I help him out." He looked at Sukie, and quickly glanced up at Joan who silently mouthed "Sukie" at him. "And this must be Sukie." Dainie nodded. "Well," he continued, "Santa did want me to tell you that you and Sukie are both on the 'nice' list ..." and in a serious voice belayed by a smile, "... so far."

He held out his hand, and Dainie shyly took it and shook it.

Joan really regretted what she was going to have to put Dainie through, and wished she could just leave her with Jack. For a man who operated the most extreme bondage and sado-masochistic club in the Midwest, Jack had a real soft spot for children. He was almost single-handedly responsible for and thoroughly behind the mayor's current push to destroy Chicago's child porn industry. His people were trained to spot even the best fake ID's, and he was one of the few club owners who couldn't be bribed to let those underage into his club. Unfortunately, she needed a witness who would tell the absolute truth to Rose about what she was about to do and be believed. Dainie, exactly because of her childlike qualities, was that person.

Jack turned to Robbie. "Jack, this is my friend, Robbie Saunders." Joan made belated introductions. "Robbie, this is my long time friend, Jack Thompson. Jack runs the Whip and Cuff and ..." here she winked at Robbie, "... helps out Santa from time to time."

Jack took Robbie's hand and instead of shaking it, he bowed and kissed it. As he straightened up he said, in an entirely different tone of voice than that he had used with Dainie, "You, my dear, are on the naughty list! But then ..." and he grinned, "... that can be quite nice."

Then he turned to Joan, and pulled what looked like a TV remote control out of his pocket. He handed it to Joan and turned serious. "Here's Stella's control. I agree with you that she's been punished enough, more than enough, but are you sure you want to take ..." and he gave an imperceptible nod toward Dainie, "... with you? You don't know how she will react once the control is deactivated and she sees you. Dainie could stay here with me."

"Thank you, Jack, but I have to take her. Personal reasons. I have Robbie with me, and she'll protect us. Believe it or not, she's a Marine."

Jack smiled. "Well, that's all right!" He turned to Robbie. "Me, too. Vietnam. We'll have to talk. Semper Fi! I'll leave you to it then," he said, turning back to Joan. "She's the second door, third floor. You'll give her my offer, then?"

"Sure will, Jack," said Joan, and turned toward the stairway. "Come on, ladies."

Jack watched as they mounted the stairs. He was basically a nice guy, who believed that what consenting adults - accent on the "consenting" - did in the privacy of his rooms was their own business. He had met Joan in college, and the two had become friends. He had already had a wife he adored, and, being an intelligent man himself, he was not put off by Joan's intellect. Both he and his wife had sensed that there was something sad and dark behind Joan's almost fanatical drive for success. In the course of events, she had told them, and they had agreed to help her if they could.

After college, they had lost track of each other for awhile, as he and his wife stayed in their college town while Joan moved away. When his wife died, Jack had moved to Chicago and, with her insurance money, had started the Whip and Cuff. He hadn't seen Joan since the funeral, and did not know she was in Chicago. He was surprised when she contacted him, but they easily resumed their former friendship.

He did not know of Joan's transsexual slavery business, and would have been appalled if he had. Knowing what Stan had done to Joan was the only reason he had agreed to keep Stella, and he had told Joan that he would not tolerate any outright physical harm to her. She had, he had to admit, made quite a bit of money for him; half of it was in a trust fund for her if Joan ever relented, as it appeared she was doing now. His offer was for Stella to remain at the Whip and Cuff, but as a regular employee at a substantial salary - and as a domme. Joan had said she would destroy the remote control and remove the receiver from her body, but she had also told him there was no way she could return Stella to being Stan. He hoped Stella would see his offer as an acceptable alternative. Just in case she didn't, he went to get his shotgun. He wasn't too worried, now that he knew there was a Marine up there, but even a Marine might need backup.

As Joan, Robbie, and Dainie were ascending the stairs inside the Whip and Cuff, Edwina Porter and Louise Edwards were approaching the back door, having gotten off a bus on Michigan Avenue and Touhy and made their way through back alleys. Barbara, in the cab in front of the club's Fargo Street entrance, was not aware of their presence.

After their kidnaping, they had been taken to the sub-basement of Vaingirls and locked in. The next day, under the watchful eyes of G.A., they had made statements to the Chicago Fire Department officials and signed the necessary paperwork required by the City of Chicago from victims of a fire. They had then been taken back to Vaingirls and locked back in the sub-basement.

They managed to get free the next day by the oldest trick in the book; Ed had stripped and used her clothes to pad her bunk so that it looked as if she was lying under the covers; then she stood out of sight of anyone looking through the small rectangular window in the door. Lou, cradling her injured wrist, making it look as though she were in more pain than she actually was, sat on the bed. In point of fact, so good had Barbara's aim been with the throwing knife, that despite the fact that it had passed entirely through Lou's wrist, it had done almost no damage, and she had almost the full use of her hand and arm back already. They patiently waited for someone to open the door and give them a chance to escape. Their experience with Rose had convinced both of them that making an escape attempt, however much a long shot it turned out to be, was most likely the lesser of two evils compared to what she had planned for them. Fate, for the moment, was on their side.

Only Bethany, Elizabeth, and Jessica were at Vaingirls that afternoon. Adain and Robbie were, of course, occupied with Joan, Barbara was in the cab in front of the Whip and Cuff, and Rose, with Joyce, G.A., Steve, and Salielah, was in Karen's minivan parked on Halsted, about two blocks south of the club; Karen, although not officially a part of The Group, as G.A.'s wife was an auxiliary, and had insisted on driving. They were backup, if necessary. Georgieanne and Stephanie had been relegated to their respective virtual lounge chairs, as it was felt that, in the event backup was needed, it would be a "testosterone moment". Both Rose and Salielah would have preferred to be in the cab instead of Barbara, but Joan would have recognized them; as it was, they were both extremely nervous, and worried about Adain.

Worry about Adain, and the preoccupation with the "Project Joan" part of The Plan, had, in fact, caused The Group to be a bit careless in regard to Lou and Ed; neither woman had survived and become as successful as they had by being stupid. None of the three girls left at the store had any military background, and, while they had all taken basic street self-defense classes, had no martial arts training. Neither had Lou and Ed, but they were bigger women, and stronger than any of the three, and would have the advantage of surprise.

While Jessica, as usual, ran the boutique, Bethany and Elizabeth, who were between make-overs, brought lunch down to Lou and Ed. As they were descending the basement stairs, they were preoccupied with a discussion of their last make over, a teenage boy whose mother had brought him in as punishment for constantly teasing and harassing his sister. As usual, Joyce had investigated the situation before agreeing to it. She had talked to both the mother and the sister, and then, separately, to the boy, and had felt that a feminine experience would do the boy good. Vaingirls did forced feminization, but only after careful investigation had convinced Joyce that it would be good for the forcee, and was not just a matter of revenge; she was almost never wrong.

While not a particularly effeminate looking young man, Casey, after the efforts of Bethany and Elizabeth, who could make Arnold Schwarzenegger look like a passable woman, and Jessica, who had picked out "her" outfit, had been positively adorable! As they reached the door to the sub-basement cell, both ladies were in the process of agreeing that, while the look of disgust in "her" eyes when she had been allowed to see herself for the first time was priceless, years of experience had whispered to them that "Caitlin" was not going to just go away after today; the mother may have started something she had not bargained for.

Thus, Bethany was not paying very close attention when she looked through the small rectangular window and was completely taken in by Lou and Ed's ruse. Bethany unlocked the door, opened it inward, and stepped in, followed closely by Elizabeth with the lunch tray. Ed, from behind the edge of the door, pushed Bethany as hard as she could toward Lou, still sitting on the edge of her cot. She then grabbed Elizabeth's tray and used it to pull her all the way into the cell, jerked the tray out of Elizabeth's hands, and hit her on the head with it as hard as she could. Elizabeth went down, out cold. Lou grabbed Bethany by the shoulders and pulled her down; using Bethany's own momentum, she guided her head into the wall, and she rebounded onto the floor. The two bad girls high- fived. "Whip and Cuff?" Ed asked. Elizabeth heard, and saw Lou nod just before unconsciousness claimed her.

While Lou checked Bethany and took her keys, Ed checked Elizabeth. Both women were breathing and neither was bleeding. Leaving the two in the cell, they locked the door behind them and hurried up the stairs into Vaingirls' salon area. A quick check yielded them little in the way of weapons, but each grabbed a pair of scissors and Lou snatched the twenty-five dollar tip that "Caitlin's" mother had left. Ed grabbed a compact, a lipstick, and a hairbrush. They exited through the back door, made their way a few blocks east to Sheridan Avenue, and caught the CTA bus up to Rogers Park; with only twenty-five dollars, a cab was out of the question.

Unknown to anyone in the group, Lou and Ed were no strangers to the Whip and Cuff Club. Indeed, they were such frequent visitors that they maintained an apartment above the club on the 16th floor of the once-upon-a-time hotel. There were clothes, food, and foremost in their thoughts as they made their way northward, weapons in that apartment.

Jessica never saw them. She assumed that Elizabeth and Bethany, after delivering lunch to Lou and Ed, were in the salon cleaning up from the last make over. When she finally went into the salon to ask them a question, found them missing, searched and discovered them just regaining consciousness in the Lou and Ed- less cell, and called Joyce, it was almost too late.

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Joyce threw her cell phone down on the floor of the car, shouted, "DAMN!" and grabbed it up again. "Karen, get this bucket of bolts moving!" she shouted as she clicked speed dial. "Whip and Cuff Club. Drop G.A. and Salielah at the front. Barbara!" she spoke urgently into the phone. "We need to go up, fast! Lou and Ed are loose, and they are on their way to the Club - no, probably already there. They must have a hidey-hole in the building. As far as I know, they don't know Joan, Dainie, and Robbie are there, but if they see Jack, he'll tell 'em; he's no reason not too. Wait, 'cause I'm dropping G.A. and Salielah with you. Rose, Steve and I'll go up the back!"

As she finished speaking, Karen squealed to a halt in front of the club, and G.A. and Salielah jumped out, joining Barbara on the sidewalk. As the van pulled away, they could all see the two ladies drawing their weapons as they entered the building. G.A. never carried a gun. Joyce gave instructions to Karen as they circled the building. "Stay in the van, keep it running. Call Jessica and tell her to get her butt in gear and bring the Vaingirls' van up here quick. Tell her I know all about her little 'secret' Glockenspiel 7mm; tell her to bring it, but not to come up unless one of us calls. Keep your phone on and ready. Rose is in charge once we're upstairs, but I am for now because I know the building." She glanced at Rose, who nodded her confirmation; then she turned her attention back to Karen. "Are you armed?"

Karen reached under the dash and pulled out what apparently was the females' weapon of choice that year, a Glockenspiel 7mm. "G.A. doesn't know I have it. I have a tazer in my purse, also."

Joyce nodded, and as the van stopped at the rear entrance, she, Rose and Steve jumped out. Rose started to run ahead, but Joyce grabbed her collar and stopped her. Rose wheeled on her. "If they've hurt Dainie ..."

"I know, honey," Joyce soothed, "but you can't help her if you get lost; you need to stay with us." Rose visibly pulled herself together, and nodded.

Steve, who had come up alongside the two, looked at Joyce in amazement. "When the Hell did you become one of Charlie's Angels!?" He shook his head. "I knew you could make 'em beautiful, but where did you learn to make 'em dead?!"

Joyce smiled at him. "Long story, Steve, long story." The smile vanished. "Let's go!"