Jack Danger. Time Agent (Previously on Amazon) (Patreon)

Jack Danger: Time Agent - His First Time as a Woman

by T.G. Cooper Chapter 1

Jack Danger had never woken in the body of a woman. As he slowly drifted to consciousness after making the time jump, he'd become conscious of a hand cupping a soft mound on his chest. His brain couldn't make sense of the soft mound, and he found himself struggling with confusion as he started to become more aware of his body. He was laying on his side, with arm under his head, and he felt like he had a soft pillow pressed between his arms. He opened his eyes and looked at masses of hair, that nearly completely obscured his vision.

The hair alone did not make him aware of his womanhood, as he had jumped into long-haired men over the years. In some countries and eras it was quite common, but as he pulled the hair from his eyes he looked down and saw breasts, his breasts, squeezed together, and he felt a deep sense of shame in the pit of his stomach as he realized two things: One, that he was now a woman, and two, that the hand on his breast belonged to a man.

Jack felt sick with embarrassment. The monitors back at the Time Base would be watching, and they would see him in bed with a man, and he knew they would be laughing. Still, he needed to get up, get out and get on his mission. The sooner he got done, the sooner he'd be free of this woman's body.

He took hold of the wrist attached to the arm on his breast and lifted it, intending to slide out of bed, and he was halfway out, his mind rebelling at the feeling of his breasts swaying, his soft, smooth thighs pressed together, but then he felt the hand lock into his slender arm and yank him back down.

"Babe," the man said, his voice thick with sleep. "How about some morning glory?"

He pulled Jack's hair back and kissed him on his slender little shoulder. Jack felt his skin crawl, imagined the boys back at the command center chuckling. "Not today," Jack said, appalled at the musically feminine voice that came out of his mouth.

"Come on," the man said, climbing onto Jack, who found himself on his back, looking up at the man through wispy strands of hair. The man brushed his hand across Jack's cheek. Kissed him on the neck.

Jack felt his body responding, his nipples getting hard. No, he thought, No.

Jack searched the memory of the woman whose body he now occupied, and found the man's name. "Lyle," he said, trying to put some gravity into his small voice, pushing on the man's hard, muscular chest. "I'm not feeling well."

"You are so damned gorgeous," Lyle said, kissing his way down to Jack's breast, then taking Jack's hardening nipple into his mouth.

Jack yelped prettily, arching his back, pushing as hard as he could at the big man. "No!" He said, and then to his shame. "Please."

He felt the man's hand on the inside of his thigh, rising, squeezing, and Jack squeezed his legs together. "Asshole," he said, punching the man on the shoulder with a little fist. "Fucking stop!"

"Babe," the man said. "What?" He shifted position, moving to kiss Jack on the lips, but jack turned his head, and the man kissed him on the cheek instead. His hand continued to push its way up Jack's thigh, pressing against his slit, and the feeling filled Jack with terror. He couldn't let another man touch him ... in his...

"Get the fuck off me," Jack said in his squeaky little voice.

"What's your fucking problem?" Lyle said.

"I told you. I don't feel well."

The man stared down at Jack. He had a square jaw, bristling with stubble, and small, hard eyes. He seemed to be thinking, then his eye narrowed, and he grabbed Jack's wrists, forcing his arms above his head, straddling him, and now Jack felt the man's hard member pressing against his soft flesh, and the man smiled. "Just a quickie," he said.

Jack's eyes went wide. He struggled, trying to free himself, but he was small and weak, and Lyle just laughed as down at Jack as he wiggled and made small little high-pitched grunts.

"Mommy?" A small voice asked.

Lyle and Jack both looked to see two little kids--one boy and one girl, looking at them with wide, frightened. Jack searched her memory, the information coming quickly. This woman is a mom, he realized. These are her babies, Peter and Morgan. "What is it, honey?"

"I'm hungry," Morgan said.

Jack looked at Lyle. "I better..." he said. "The kids. I have to get them to school."

Lyle made a hissing noise and rolled off Jack, who gasped with relief, rolling out of bed and rushing over to the kids, hurrying them out of the room. "How about some..." he searched her memory... "Fruit Loops? That's your favorite, right?"

"I want waffles," Peter said.

"Me, too!" Morgan said.

"Okay," Jack said, making his way to the kitchen, unnerved by the swaying of his large, heavy breasts, the feeling of his hard nipples rubbing against his tank top, the way he felt even his butt jiggling as he walked, his long, smooth legs bare beneath a pair of very short shorts. He glanced nervously back at the bedroom, searching her memory and feeling unnerved as the images came back, the feelings he should have, not just the physical sensation of having a man force himself into him but her feelings shame, humiliation, powerlessness. He felt dizzy and stopped, putting a hand on the kitchen counter to steady himself.

"Mommy?" He heard one of the kids say.

"I'm fine," he said. "Just... it's fine."

He searched her memory, and started the waffle iron warming up, then mixing the batter. Be careful, he reminded himself. If you access her memory too much her memory and personality will bleed into yours.

It was one of the first things they taught you when you became a time agent, even before they taught you how to access a host body’s memories, they taught you to do so as sparingly as possible. The other person's memories would begin to mix into your own, their personality would start to blend, and you could eventually become someone else--an amalgam, or in extreme cases, where the host body's personality was very strong, they could take over and you would find yourself a passenger In their body and life, experiencing everything but powerless to act.

Batter done, Jack poured into the waffle iron, and soon the kids were happily eating, chatting, and he was drinking a cup of steaming black coffee, waking up this body, his mind within in, and he then went into motion, getting the kids dressed and off to school, playing mommy. At some point Lyle came out, grabbed him by the hips, pulled him back and kissed him on the neck. "Love you," Lyle said.

"Have a good day," Jack said, cringing. As soon as Lyle left, Jack gasped with relief and ran to the bathroom. He had to get to Grand Central Station and meet his partner, get going on the mission. He stripped out of his clothes and stepped into the shower. "Oh," he gasped, feeling the water against his breasts, his--the space between his legs. Ignoring the foreign sensations, he quickly soaped up, his mind reeling with the feeling of breasts in his hands, his soft thighs. The man he was felt aroused, thrilled, excited to have a pair of big firm breasts in his hands, to feel the nipples in his palms, but the man in him also recoiled in terror at the feeling of having hands on his breasts, feeling his nipples tighter, and a heat and an ache inside him...

He turned off the shower, toweled off, refused to look at himself in the mirror. Some of his hair had gotten wet, and it now stuck to his back bare back. He stopped, thinking about accessing her, letting her dress this body, but decided against it. He felt scattered, already, like this woman was pressing, fighting to gain control. And he had to be careful not to give her too much room, so instead he found one of Lyle's sweatshirts-green and white, it read NY Jets and pulled it on, shoving the too long sleeves up his tiny arms, and then he pulled a pair of Lyle's Jockeys up over his wide, fleshy hips, and then put on a pair of Kitty's sweat pants--her name is Kitty? He thought, shaking his head.

What kind of people name their daughter Kitty?

Finally, he pulled on a pair of athletic shoes not dissimilar from what he wore in the future when he ran, and satisfied he looked at the door. He would need.... money, a transit pass, keys... where...he looked around the house, then just closed his eyes and accessed... there. Hanging from a stool by the kitchen counter. A purse.

Women used to carry them. He grabbed it and slipped it over his shoulder, heading out into the world. With each step, he felt his huge breasts jiggle and sway, and he winced, annoyed, feeling the nipples rubbing against the inside of the jersey. How do women put up with this? He wondered, annoyed, brushing the hair back from his face for what already seemed like the 100th time.

Laugh guys, laugh, he thought, thinking of the folks back at the command center. Outside the apartment, he looked around, checking the street signs. 170th and Malcolm X. He thought back to the map he'd seen of the city, started walking down the sidewalk toward the subway. He felt so small. He'd been on the taller side of manhood, and now he was barely over five feet tall and felt like a child.

"Yo," a man shouted at him as he walked by, "you lookin' fine, girl!"

Jack rolled his eyes.

Later, as he was about to head down the stairs to the subway, he heard someone say, "look at the ass on that one."

He cringed. All the more reason to get this mission done, he decided, getting on the next train. He found a place to sit, letting his legs splay open, putting his purse in his lap. He started thinking about the mission. The notorious Chrono-terrorist Viachi had jumped back to this time, the early 21st Century in the reckoning of the era. They were not sure what Viachi suspected, but their task was to capture him and bring him to null time for justice.

Jack started to feel... strange, and he looked around to see a man sitting across from him, staring right at the space between his legs. "Asshole," Jack said, pulling his legs together.

"You wanna show it I'm going to look," the man said, smirking.

Jack got up and moved to another seat, feeling, uncomfortable. He kept his knees together. The man kept staring at him. He felt nervous and looked at the sign above the center of the car they showed where the train was along the subway line. Three more stops until Grand Central. He hugged his purse to his chest, looking away from the man, but he could feel the man's eyes on him. When the subway stopped, Jack felt the urge to get up and run out, wait for the next train, but then he glared at the man, and thought, I'm a man, too. You can't intimidate me.

The man began to stick his tongue in and out of his mouth.

Jack looked away, feeling like someone had just punched him in the gut.

"Ignore him, girl," the woman next to him said. She patted him on the arm.

Jack just shook his head, thinking, I really am one of them now. "Thanks," he said.

When the train finally got to Grand Central, Jack hurried off, looking around, following the signs, until he came to the main hall and saw the ticket booth in the center. He went to one of the kiosks and bought a newspaper, folding it into a third, and then tucking it under his arm he approached the booth. There were several people waiting there, staring down at their phones. Maybe she isn't here yet? He thought, but he circled around to the other side and there it was--the folded newspaper, tucked into the arm of a tall, muscular man.

Jack froze. No, he thought, staring. She can't be...

The man looked up, spotted the newspaper under Jack's arm. The man's eyes met Jack's. and his eyes went wide, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "Hey!" He said, stepping toward Jack, looking him up and down. "How was the trip from Poughkeepsie?" The man asked, his voice deep and rumbling.

"Smooth and easy," Jack answered, in his pretty little chirp.

The man offered Jack his arm. "Madam?"

"Jerk," Jack said, feeling ridiculous. "Let's go."

They headed down a narrow hall with flickering lights and came to a shabby door with peeling paint and a sign that read, "Closed for Renovation. Warning: Asbestos." Jack punched some numbers into the keypad, and they stepped into a dark little room crowded with old metal desks and chairs. At the back, barely visible, was another door, and inside that was a glittering command center. As they entered monitors and computers flickered to life. Jack tossed his purse on a desk, turned and crossed his arms under his massive breasts. "Go ahead," Jack said looking up at his partner, Mary Beth. "Have your fun."

Mary Beth laughed. "Jack, I was just going to say that you are gorgeous."

"Okay."

"Your breasts are so huge."

"I noticed," Jack said.

"And you sound like a cartoon mouse."

"Okay. Enough!" Jack said. "Can we get to work?" He uncrossed his arms, and Mary Beth saw his breasts sway.

"You should really wear a bra."

"I said enough."

"No. I'm serious. Breasts that big..."

"Viachi," Jack said turning to the monitor and pulling up the Viachi file.

Mary Beth shrugged. He'll have to find out the hard way.

Jack was looking at the map, two lights blinking. "We know he jumped into someone at one of these two locations," Jack said, glad to be focused on the work, to be in a place where he felt strong and in control. "And someone else jumped into the other. Probably Vicki Vixen. Let's split up. I'll check this location," Jack said, pointing to a flickering light in Upper Manhattan. "You check out this one in Brooklyn."

"Jack, that Upper Manhattan address might not be safe-- for you."

Jack looked up at her sourly. "I'm still me," he said. "I have training."

"But, didn't you always skip the fighting as female classes?"

"I did," Jack admitted. He'd been sure he was too much of a man to ever jump into a woman, and he had even convinced himself that other guys jumped into women because they took the female agent training and spent time in women's bodies. "But I'm fine. Trust me. Besides, it will be easier for me to pick up my kids after school."

"Kids?"

"Yeah, I--" Jack shook his head. Laughed. "This body. She has kids."

"But you said my kids."

"Yeah, but I meant her kids. You know. We have to do our best not to disrupt their lives or harm innocents and all that."

"I know," Then she chuckled, a deep, mainly chuckle.

"What?" Jack said, brushing his hair back, grabbing his purse.

"I just can't believe that Jack Danger is a mommy."

"I'm not," Jack said. "A mommy."

"Well, let's trade numbers," Mary Beth said. "At least we have some kind of communication device in this era."

"Yeah," Jack said, fishing a cellphone out of his purse--it had a glittering pink case. What's your number?" He asked, typing it into his phone with his long, rounded red nails. He dialed the number, and Mary Beth looked at her phone.

"Got it," she said. "What's your host body's name?"

Jack cringed. "Kitty."

Mary Beth laughed. "Kitty? Are you serious?"

"Yes," Jack sighed.

"You really came up all lemons this time, didn't you? What kind of people name their little girl Kitty?"

Little girl. Ugh. But Jack nodded. "I thought the same thing." He tossed his hair back over his shoulder. "What's your name?"

"You won't believe me."

"Max Granite."

"Unbelievable. I should be in that body. Well, let's go." Jack pulled his hair back again, making a small sound of annoyance.

"You want me to tie that back for you in a ponytail?" Mary Beth said. "It'll be easier--"

"No," Jack snapped. "I'm fine. Now, let's go and get this done."

Back at the main base in null time, the monitors laughed. 'It's getting to him," Paul Brent, the watch commander said.

"I thought he was about to cry when that guy on the subway was ogling him," Kelly Kline said, biting her finger.

"How about when his boyfriend was all over him?"

"Omigod," Kelly said. "I bet that before this is over?"

"What? Jack gives it up?"

"I think he will."

"No way. Jack is too tough. He'd never let another guy do him."

"Jack is all talk and bluster, and he got away with it because he was big and strong. But now?" She smiled. "He's just a pretty little bunny."

"No. You're wrong. Jack's a man."

"Loser buys dinner."

"You're on."

"Easiest meal I ever got."

The monitors wore matching polo shirts with a logo that read Fazon Corporation, a logo which also covered the walls and danced on screen savers that floated on monitors.

"It's not...wait. Look at this."

"Interesting."

Chapter 2

Jack had arrived at the address and now stood on the street looking at a stone wall with an engraved sign that read Saint Sophia's Home for Lost Children. Beyond the wall, looking completely incongruous between two brick apartment buildings, rose what looked like a small, stone medieval church, with soaring spires and stained-glass windows. Behind it, a gold brick building that looked like a dormitory.

Clutching his purse strap, Jack walked under the arched entry way, cursing his bad luck. An orphanage? Judging by the size of it, they would have to have a dozen people working there, any one of which could be the one his prey had jumped into. Now, he would have to investigate, meet people. It could take time, though one advantage their side had was that Viachi had no qualms at all about disrupting the lives of the people he possessed, and he could often be found by the trail of chaos he left in his wake-missed work, violence, jail time.

Jack walked into the orphanage--it smelled like bleach. He saw a sign-- office--and reached for the brass handle, started to turn it and then heard a voice, shouting, with an Italian accent, "Put me down! Put me down!"

He turned to see two nuns carrying a little girl, who was writhing and wiggling, screaming. The nuns walked by, and the girl looked at Jack. "Help me, lady," she shouted, now speaking in a perfect 21st Century, Harlem accent. "Help!"

Jack tried to look surprised, watching as the nuns opened a door, deposited the girl and then quickly slammed the door and locked it shut. The door rattled, and the girl screamed, once more with the Italian accent, "I will destroy you!"

The nuns crossed themselves and one of them murmured, "Jesus, Mary and Joseph."

Jack grinned now. There was no doubt. Viachi was that little girl. This was going to be easier than he thought. All he needed was 5 minutes alone with him, and he could pull him back to the time base and get back to being Jack Danger

Damn. The nuns were looking at him, standing there. "Where do I go to talk to someone about adopting?"

"You're in the right place," one of the nuns said. "Just go right in that office."

"Thanks," Jack said, turning the handle, walking in. Behind the desk, a young nun in a habit sat, reading a magazine: Vogue. Must be some kind of religious thing, looking at the woman on the front, who wore a little gold dress. She's cute.

"Can I help you?"

"I was thinking about adopting?" Jack said. "Am I crazy?"

"Probably," the nun said. "But we have some pamphlets you might want to read, and there's a form you need to fill out." She nodded toward a rack of pamphlets.

"Perfect," Jack said, grabbing some pamphlets and stuffing them into his purse.

"Here's the form," the nun said, holding a clipboard with a piece of paper and a pen on a chain.

Jack stared at it. "This is the 21st Century," he said. "I thought everything was on the... Internet?"

"We're a little 19th Century here," the nun said, chuckling.

"These pamphlets will be a good start," Jack said. "Bye."

He let himself out, saw the hall was clear and went to the room where he'd seen them put Viachi. He checked the handle. Locked. He thought, rifled through his purse, found a hairpin. This purse is coming in handy, Jack thought as he worked the lock, heard it click.

Turning the handle, he said, "Little girl? I'm here to help."

He pushed the door open and - empty? Damn. They'd moved Viachi already? He stepped into the room, frustrated. So close, and now--

"Liberta!" he heard someone scream, and looking up he saw the little girl drop from the ceiling, and then he crashed to the ground, feeling his head slam against the ground. Jack lunged for Viachi, but he was too quick and fled the room. Jack tried to get to his feet and chase, but stars flashed in his eyes, and he stumbled and fell, dizzy, and he watched as the little feet ran away, and Jack's vision grew dark, and he fainted.

Jack slowly came out of the darkness, drawn back to the world of light by the constant pounding in his head. He opened his eyes and looked up to see a green ceiling, a crack running along it from a light fixture to the corner of one wall.

Jack tried to sit up, but his head swam, and he felt like he was going to puke, so he lay back down. Where am I? He wondered. He rolled onto his side, becoming more aware of his body, and particularly his large breasts.

Am I a woman? It didn't seem right. He was sure he was a man. He thought back, and a sense of panic started to build in him. He couldn't remember his life. Couldn't even remember his own name. It was like he'd just woken here in this--was it some kind of mid-20th Century infirmary?

He could feel something else--someone else--inside him now, trying to talk to him. It was faint, like a whisper, and kept repeating something.... But what? Yids. Yids. Get the yids.

Something came to him. Yid. Slang. Derogatory. For a religious movement. He was supposed to get them? Yes. Maybe. He was on a mission. That sounded right. But his mind then reeled back to the most pressing question of all. Who am I?"

The door to the infirmary opened. A young woman wearing a black dress entered and immediately smiled. "You're awake!"

"Yes," Jack said, returning the smile.

"How do you feel, Miss Kattan?"

"Woozy." Jack answered, thinking, Miss Kattan. So, I am a woman.

"I brought you some Tylenol."

"Tylenol?"

"It will help with the pain."

She handed Jack a cup of water and two pills. Jack eyed the girl warily, decided to trust her, and with her help he slowly sat up and took the pills.

"Do you mind if I call you Kitty?"

Kitty. Why would she? Jack thought about the way she phrased the question, and he guessed that must be his name, but he decided to test it. "That's my name, right?"

Yes, he heard that voice in his head say. That is your name, Kitty.

Jack felt relieved. He knew his name now, and that was a good start.

"You can call me Sister Angelica."

"Okay, sister."

Get the kids, the voice in Jack's head said. Get the kids!

Jack looked at the wall clock behind a metal grate, with its big and little hands, a red second hand sweeping around and around, and new information came into his awareness. He had two kids he loved more than anything. And he needed to get to school and pick them up....

"Oh my God," he said. "I'm going to be late to pick up my kids."

He stood, feeling the weight of his breasts as they swayed, tugging at his back and sternum. It felt... wrong, and he rebelled against the odd feeling of his body, the wrongness of it, and the voice was saying about needing a bra, and even though he still felt dizzy, his new sense of urgency consumed him, and he forced himself to walk toward the door so he could pick up his kids. He needed to meet with their teacher today, he'd promised, and he knew that he'd been in trouble with Protective Services, and he had to be a good mom or his kids would be taken away. "I have to go."

"We're concerned about liability," the nun said, standing, waving a piece of paper. "Will you sign this?"

"I have to go," Jack said. Your purse! The voice in his head yelled, and Jack turned, spotted his purse hanging from the bedpost and retrieved it, slinging it over his shoulder, tossing back his long hair. "I almost forgot my purse," he said, and then because he thought it, he said out loud, "I love this purse. My boyfriend gave it to me."

"Would you sign the waiver?"

"Don't know what that is," Jack said, leaving. "I have to get my kids!"

As soon as Jack stepped out of the orphanage, his eyes burned in the sun, so he fished a pair of sunglasses out of his bag and slipped them on, then looked left and right. He couldn't remember where his kids went to school, but the voice, that weird voice, said, "I'll tell you," so Jack just followed the directions, rushing along the sidewalk, a nervous little mommy determined to get to her kids.

When Jack got to the school, he went inside and his kids jumped up, smiling and shouting "Mommy!" before jumping up and throwing their arms around his waist, hugging him. Jack felt a warm glow as he put his arms on their backs and pulled them to him.

"Miss Kattan," an older woman wearing cat eye spectacles said. "Come in."

The meeting was quick. The teacher had noticed Morgan was squinting, holding her books right to her nose. "You may want to have her eyes checked."

"Thanks," Jack said, and the voice added, Where are we going to find the money for that?"

Back home, Jack made snacks for the kids and then sent them off to play in their rooms, then with a sigh he sank down on the couch, closing his eyes, glad for a moment's peace. You're doing great, the voice said.

Who are you? What is this? Am I going crazy?

No. The voice said, pausing. I'm you. Kitty. I have all your memories. Somehow, we split when we hit our head but that's totally great, right?"

How is this great?

Because I can tell you everything you need to know. Otherwise, they might put you in the hospital, and then who would take care of your kids?

My kids. Yes, Jack thought, thinking of their smiling faces, the way they ran to him, hugged him, a strong maternal glow filling him once more. A memory came to him. The hospital the day he'd given birth to Morgan, and the nurse had handed her to him--so tiny! And he'd held her to him, his own little baby, a daughter just like he'd prayed for.

It was such a special day, Kitty said. She was so beautiful!

I feel like I am remembering it for the first time, Jack answered, unnerved by the feelings, the memory of the baby slipping out from between his legs. It felt wrong, at the same time it seemed so beautiful, and a very powerful thought stabbed into his brain like a spike: You can't have given birth because you're a man.

Jack put his hands to his temples. "Ow," he said.

What is it?" Kitty said.

Jack felt a sense of panic building in him. Something was wrong. Everything was wrong. He looked around the apartment. None of it seemed familiar, and he felt certain he didn't live here.

No, you do, Kitty said. It's just from hitting your head.

Jack looked at the door, and he was about to run, but then he heard a burst of giggles from the bedroom, and he stopped, looking back. The kids. He couldn't leave them.

Music. Some sort of low grade music delivery system, coming from his purse. Jack stared at it, the feeling of terror and panic growing.

It's nothing, Kitty said. Don't answer it.

Back at headquarters, the monitors had gotten bored watching Jack play mommy, and Mary Beth wasn't doing much, so they had started to play cards, only half watching until things got interesting again.

As soon as Kitty had said nothing and don't answer, Jack had gotten a vision of his cellphone, and things had clicked. Someone was calling him, and something in him made him want to answer. He went to his purse and fished out his phone. The screen indicated the call was from someone named Mary Beth.

Over a stream of objections from Kitty, Jack answered. "Yes?"

"Jack, how are things on your end?" A deep, sexy man's voice said.

Jack felt that stabbing pain again, shook his head. "Jack?" he said, closing his eyes against the pain. "I think you have the wrong number?"

Marybeth paused, then, thinking maybe it was some kind of undercover situation, said, "Kitty?"

"Oh, yes? This is-- she."

This guy has been trying to fuck you for a long time and he's no good. Stay away from him! Kitty shouted. Hang up. Hang up!

"So, how are things? I haven't been able to locate my target yet."

Target? Locate? Jack's head was spinning. "Who are you?" He asked.

No! No! Kitty thought.

"Who am I? Jack? Are you okay?"

Tell him you're fine. Tell him you're fine.

Confused, Jack just repeated the words. "I'm fine."

You were just messing with him.

"I was just, um, messing with you?"

There was a pause, then a chuckle. "Oh. You almost had me going there. So, where should we meet tonight?"

He wants me to meet him, Jack said, panicked, unsure. He decided just to trust Kitty, to do what she told him, especially since he was pretty sure she was him. What should I say?

Kitty thought, then answered. He won't leave you alone. Tell him to meet you tonight. At work. It's a public place, so he won't be able to try anything.

"Meet me tonight. At work." Jack repeated.

"And where would that be?"

Jack repeated the address, and then he heard shouting, and said, "Oh uh. The kids. Have to go!"

And he cancelled the call, relieved, hurrying back to separate the kids.

You should probably get dinner started, Kitty said, determined to take care of her family despite this intruder in her body.

Okay, Jack said, looking warily at the kitchen. Can you help me? I don't remember anything. Not even how to cook, or where anything is." Tears poured down his cheeks.

Oh, sweetie, Kitty said. It's going to be okay.

I feel so lost and helpless, Jack said. It's so weird. I can't remember, I can't!

But you have me, Kitty said. I'm here. I'll help you, honey. There are tissues right over there.

Jack gratefully grabbed a tissue and wiped his tears, then blew his nose, collecting himself.

Now, just let me help you, and we'll have dinner whipped up in a jiff!

Thanks, Jack said, feeling a little relieved. Okay. Let's do this!

As they prepared dinner, Jack found that he could kind of just let Kitty control things or let that part of him that remembered. It felt kind of like taking a back seat, just sitting back and watching as she bustled about the kitchen, doing this and that. It was easier than having her tell him what to do, and then do it, so even though it felt a little scary at first to give up control, he got used to it and grew comfortable pretty fast.

Soon, pots were steaming, sauce boiling, and he had just put some dinner rolls in the oven when the door opened and walked Lyle. "Babe," Lyle said, walking in, taking Jack in his arms and leaning down to kiss him on the lips.

Jack winced and tried to pull away from the total wrongness of it, but Kitty still had control, and she put her hands behind Lyle's neck and stared into his eyes longingly, before kissing him again, and then saying, "dinner will be on the table in ten minutes."

When she turned to get back to cooking, Lyle slapped her on the ass, and she shrieked prettily. Jack felt violated, even as his body tingled with strange pleasure, and he felt a giddiness that seemed, again, somehow wrong.

Stop fighting me, Kitty hissed.

I don't want him touching us like that.

He's our boyfriend, Kitty answered.

I don't like him.

He's okay.

It doesn't feel right.

He's just a warm body. Not someone to marry. He's good in the sack.

I, but, I don't think I like guys.

Of course you do. How do you think you ended up with two kids?

Um, I don't know?

It's the bump on the head, honey. It messed us up, but just trust me, and I will get everything back to normal.

Okay, Jack said, not having any better ideas. Okay.

They sat down to eat, and right after grace, another thought occurred to Jack. What do we do? What's our job?

Kitty giggled, then said, We're an exotic dancer, and with our banging ass body, we do very well.

Can we call in sick? Jack said, feeling queasy at the thought of it, and again it didn't feel right, didn't feel like him, and he also had a strange feeling that someone was watching him, and that someone would be laughing.

After dinner, the family gathered on the couch and watched television, and then Jack put the kids to bed, reading each one a story, kissing them on the foreheads, telling them he loved them, and he did, his feelings for his beautiful children were so strong.

After, he felt terror in the pit of his stomach. I can't do this, he thought, picturing himself naked, dancing on a stage while men hooted and hollered at him.

Of course you can. You have to. We need the rent money.

We can get it some other way.

You don't want to disrupt our lives, Kitty said, remembering a thought she'd caught. Make things worse for us. That's what bad people do.

Disrupt lives. She was right--or that was right. He prided himself on not making things worse for his... for his what? Why couldn't he remember?

He let Kitty take over, and she insisted he wear a bra, a decision he found himself wholeheartedly agreeing with after she put it on, and he enjoyed the feeling of support for his breasts. The rest of her clothes were basic--deck shoes, leggings, a woman's hoodie top, and then after quickly teasing her hair, she grabbed her purse, kissed her man goodbye and got to work.

As he entered the dressing room, Jack felt himself tingling with arousal, and he could almost feel himself getting hard, and he shook his head because he had nothing to get hard, and how would he know how that felt anyway? There were women all around him-- all in some stage of near nakedness, and as much as he drank in their soft, round bodies, he felt the terror rising in him as well, but Kitty Had seized control, and so as he slipped out of his clothes and sat down in front of a mirror in his bra and panties, he just watched, nervously, glad to let her run the show as she pulled out a makeup kit from her dressing table and began to work on her face.

Men don't wear makeup, Jack thought. I don't wear makeup. Everyone will laugh at me.

Um, sweetie? Kitty looked down at their full, round breasts nestling in the black lace bra she's slipped into. Did you ever see a man with jugs like these?

No, Jack admitted. But, it just doesn't feel right.

Kitty started to apply her foundation, the cream cool against her skin, and it had a sweet, fresh smell, almost like baby powder. We need to look hot for the customers. Just relax and let me make us sexy.

Okay, Jack said, trying to ignore the terrible wrongness of it all.

Back at base, Paul and Kelly were practically rolling on the floor, laughing as they watched Jack sit down, cross his legs and then start putting on his make-up. "This is too good," Kelly said, clicking a button and catching a still.

"The poor guy," Paul said, shaking his head. "On top of everything else he jumps into the body of a stripper?"

"I can't wait to see him working the pole," Kelly said, biting her thumb. "Shaking those huge boobs of his. He'll probably give himself a black eye."

"I don't think he'll do it," Paul said. "He's just here to meet MaryBeth."

"Ten bucks," Kelly said.

"You're on."

"You're going to be sorry."

"I doubt it very much," Paul said.

On the screen, Jack's mouth was hanging open as he brushed mascara onto his already long, curly eyelashes. He looked like the very embodiment of femininity and was growing more and more beautiful as he painted his face, drawing out all of his best features.

"He's done this before," Kelly said, smirking, thinking she was getting some insight into Jack's secret self.

"What? Stripped? He'd never been a woman."

"Put on make-up," Kelly said. "He knows exactly what he's doing."

"Jack? Ya think?"

"Does he look lost to you? Like he's just figuring this out?"

"Maybe he's drawing on his host's memories."

"Maybe," Kelly said. "But I still think we would see some hesitation. Some uncertainty."

"So, what are you saying?"

"Jack has a secret side," Kelly said. "That's what I'm seeing."

Paul shrugged. He didn't think so, had never seen it, but as for secret sides, watching that beautiful woman doing her face, knowing she was Jack, Paul found himself getting a little aroused, and the realization disturbed him. He knew he had to hide it from Kelly. She would never let him hear the end of it if she caught him getting boner looking at the She-Jack.

Chapter 3

Kitty finished her make-up, then slipped into her "costume," which consisted of a tiny little sequined bra that barely managed to contain her epic breasts, a tiny little pair of sequined panties, garters, stockings and a pair of pumps. She fixed some cat ears into her long, flowing hair, and then she covered her body in glitter, and then stood in front of a three-way mirror, primping and checking herself out, and Jack again felt himself getting horny as they turned on their heels, admiring their curvaceous shape.

"Kitty. Three minutes.," a fat, bald man with a red mustache said. "You look hot as hell, babe."

Jack and Kitty flushed with pleasure at the compliment.

The phone buzzed. Marybeth. "Where R U?"

"Be right out," Kitty tapped back, smirking.

I don't want her to see me like this, Jack whimpered.

We're going to give him blue balls, honey, Kitty answered. It'll make him soooo jealous.

They made their way to the curtained area off stage. Jack could see the stage through a gap in the curtain. Spotlights searched across the scuffed black floor, and a brass pole shone in the darkness. Bass-heavy music thumped; he could feel it through his whole body, and Kitty lifted a leg, squeezing her smooth thighs together and lifting her breasts, fiddling with her bra straps.

The music lowered and the voice of the DJ came over the sound system. "Gentleman, get ready, because one of your favorite girls in the world is about to take the stage. She's sweet, she's sexy and she is going to rock your world, give it up got for the sexiest little kitten this side of the Atlantic, Honey Kat!"

The crowd roared.

The fat bald guy pulled back the curtain, and Kitty plastered a smile on her face and started to strut out onto the stage, but she found her body freezing, Jack panicking, holding them back, and their head was shaking side to side. No, Jack said. I can't. This isn't right. The club was full of men, men who would be looking at him dressed like this, lusting after him, wanting him. He couldn't.

Stop being such a little bitch, Kitty said, summoning all her willpower. Rent, remember?

I'm scared, Jack admitted.

Just sit back and enjoy the ride, Kitty said. Get out of the way and let me handle it.

Yes, fine, Jack said, pulling back, letting Kitty take control.

Good girl, Kitty said, returning the smile to her face. Then, she strutted arrogantly out onto the stage, tossing her hair, swaying her hips side to side. The men roared, a deep, animal howl, and Jack felt a thrill pass through his body. He felt.... powerful, and that surge of power made him hyper aware of the body he wore, the bouncing of his breasts in the cups of his bra, the feeling of the delicate straps against his slender shoulders, tight with the weight of his firm, perfect breasts... his legs, perched on the heels, the feeling of his panties tight against his sex, the jiggling of his plump behind....

Kitty sashayed right to the edge of the stage, leaning forward, shaking her breasts, and Jack saw some of the men now, saw their eyes, hard and hungry, and something pulled inside his body, an exquisite pleasure, and then Kitty spun on her heels, now bending over and showing her backside to the audience, bending over, twerking, looking at them over her shoulder, her hair tossing and swaying around her head. Jack saw money, thrown onto the stage, and he felt a thrill of pleasure and power again, and then Kitty stalked the pole, grabbing it with both hands and then grinding into it, thrusting her hips against the cold, metal pole while the men shouted and tossed more into the stage.

As the music rose, Kitty worked the pole, wrapping her thighs around it, climbing it, and then she spun down to the stage, landing with effortlessly grace on her heels, and the music seemed to be reaching a crescendo, and Jack found himself lost in the pleasure of his dance, of this strong, young body, and his bra seemed so tight, and he just wanted to take it off, and then Kitty was swaying to center stage, and she reached back and Jack felt a thrill of anticipation. Yes... yes... he thought.

Then Kitty in one smooth gesture pulled their bra off, and their breasts swayed free while the men lost their minds howling, and Jack and Kitty smiled and tossed their hair, swaying their hips and shoulders so their firm breasts swayed from side to side, and then Kitty was walking around the edge of the stage, letting men shove money into their garters, and Jack was smiling and flirting with all the men, and then he saw one staring at him, a shocked look on his handsome face, and he realized that this was Mary--no Max. His name was Max. Jack gave him a little wave and lifted a round shoulder to his chin, then went back to circling the stage, collecting his money, and when he and Kitty finished and were strutting backstage, he glanced back over his shoulder at Max, and he was staring at their ass, and he looked .... Scary.

Oh. My. God! Jack gasped as they made their way back to their dressing room. That was so amazing!

You liked that? Kitty said, genuinely surprised and also sensing another opening, herself growing stronger.

I've never felt anything so amazing, Jack sighed, teasing a few strands of his hair as they sat down at their dressing table.

See? Kitty said. Just follow my lead, and you'll get back to being the same old girl you always were.

"Great, great show, HoneyKat," the fat bald guy said, handing them their bra back, and then a fitful of crumpled bills.

"Thanks," Kitty said, Jack nodding along.

Kitty slipped her bra back on, then pulled the money from her garters before fixing her make-up.

What now?" Jack asked.

Now, we go and deal with Max, Kitty said, standing up.

Dressed like this? Jack squeaked.

Follow me, honey.

Um, okay, Jack answered.

They made their way out to the showroom, and spotted Max sitting at a table by himself, looking at his phone.

This may get a little weird," Kitty said. Just sit back and let me handle things, okay?

'kay, Jack said.

Good girl.

As she approached the table, Kitty tried to butch her walk up--at least as much as she could with her D cups and perched on stiletto heels. She thought about Lyle, how he moved and spoke and acted, so she just kind of lifted her chin as she slipped into the booth--a little too gracefully she realized, too late. "What's up?" She said, trying to talk in the flat, boring way men spoke.

"What's up?" Marybeth said, staring at her partner. "You tell me, HoneyKat."

"I know. I know. But, do no harm and all that."

Marybeth looked at the gorgeous woman sitting across from her, and her eyes drifted down to Jack's breasts, then back up to his pretty, perfectly made-up face. She felt herself getting hard, and shaking her head decided to focus on business. "Any luck with your target?"

Kitty shook her head. "No. You?"

Target? Jack said. What is he talking about?

"Nah. But you know, they always start to leave a trail. They go missing. We'll find them."

Jack's head started to pound. Targets. Find them? I thought you said he was an ex or something?

"We just have to rely on basic investigative techniques."

Kitty felt herself panicking a little. She been making so much progress, getting back control of her body from this--- invader--she couldn't let it get blown now. She shifted in the booth, moving close to Max. She licked her lips. "Would you be interested in investigating anything else tonight?"

Marybeth looked at Jack. Is he sending me the signals I think? He was so hot, and she was curious about what it would be like to do it, as a man. She'd been in male bodies before, but had never had the opportunity or inclination, but now with this gorgeous girl? "What did you have in mind?"

"Maybe spend a little time getting to know each other better?"

What are you doing?

I'm going to put this creepy in his place.

Marybeth reached out and ran her hands over Jack's shoulders, then cupped his face, tilting it back, staring into his eyes. Jack felt his whole body tingling with excitement, and he once more felt terrified at what was about to happen....

I don't understand....

Just hush up, girl. Let me handle this, and I promise it will be just like the dancing.

I don't know...

"You're gorgeous," Marybeth said, feeling a thrill to be the man, taking control, knowing this gorgeous little girl was actually none other than Jack Danger, and she thrilled to see him looking so vulnerable and needy, waiting passively for her to.... She leaned down and kissed him, putting her hand to the back of his head, holding him close, then pushing her tongue into his mouth.

Jack gasped as he felt his body reacting to the kiss, the big, strong man's hands on him, the musky smell of the man, and Kitty giggled.

"Let's go someplace private," Kitty whispered when the kiss ended.

"Are you sure about this?" Marybeth said.

Kitty reached down to the tent Marybeth had pitched in her pants, grabbing her member and squeezing. "Does that answer your question?"

"Let's go," Marybeth said, huskily.

"Don't get too excited yet," Kitty said, standing. "Or you'll blow your load before I'm ready."

As they walked to the private dance room, Marybeth instinctively put her hand on the small of Jack's back, enjoying the feeling of having him so small and pretty, walking next to her. Jack smiled up at her, clearly pleased by the gesture. They went into the private room. Jack felt his heart hammering in his chest, his whole body trembling.

They kissed again, and now Marybeth grabbed his breasts and squeezed, and Jack felt his knees go together as the pleasure shot through his body, and then Marybeth started to tease his nipple through the cup of his bra, and again he giggled with shock at all the new pleasures coursing through his body.

Pushing Jack onto his back, Marybeth reached around and effortlessly unhooked his bra, tossing it aside.

"You're good at that," Jack giggled.

"I should be. I've been doing all my life," Marybeth said.

Sit back, Kitty said. Let me.

Okay. Okay. I've just never felt like this.

Just wait.

Marybeth kissed Jack, while slipping a hand down between his thighs, and then she slipped her fingers between the lips of his vagina and, finding his clit, started to massage it.

Jack squealed in his head, but let Kitty keep running the show. She grabbed one of her breasts while Marybeth did her work and squeezed, and Jack felt the rush of sensations was going to drive him insane, but he had no idea, because then Marybeth, keeping one finger working his clit, began to kiss her way down his body, sucking and kissing his smooth, silky skin between his breasts, then on each breast, then down his belly, down, down...

Oh, my god! Is she going to...?

We are a lucky girl!

Then Jack felt Marybeth shove her head between his legs, and then he felt her rough, hot tongue licking inside him, and inside, still letting Kitty control things, he felt like he was burning, being consumed by the pleasure that seemed to rise in his whole body, trembling, curling his toes, and making him mentally start to make little chirping sounds, even as Kitty made the very same sounds from their wet mouth, licking her lips, moaning and chirping, arching her back, running their long, red fingernails through Marybeth's hair.

"This violates so many policies," Kate said, her voice hoarse, her throat dry, Paul swallowed and grunted, staring at the scene. He'd pulled his chair up to the desk to hide the bulge he could not control as he watched. Jack's nipples were hard, pointing up in the air, his firm breasts were bouncing as Mary Beth went down on him, and he was making these little noises that were driving Paul crazy. "I can't believe how much he'd enjoying this."

"I can't believe how much she's enjoying it. Like Jack ever went down on anyone like that."

"Jealous?"

"Yes," Kate said, her hand on chest, legs together.

Jack started to buck, then, and he made a humming sound and then he screamed, "Oh my god!"

"Is he...?" Paul said.

"He's having an orgasm," Kate said, shaking her head.

Marybeth kept working, and Jack grabbed his breasts and pinched his nipples, and he screamed out again.

"Multiple orgasms." Kate said. "Jack is getting laid!"

"I can't believe it."

"They aren't done."

Marybeth finally climbed up from between Jack's legs, and wiping her mouth on her discarded shirt, she said, "My turn."

Jack just smiled up, a distant, hazy look in his pretty eyes.

Marybeth positioned herself between Jack's legs, and then they saw his eyes go wide as she pushed herself into him, then he lifted his legs and wrapped them around her midsection, pulling her into him, meeting her rhythm. Marybeth put her hands on Jack's ass and pulled him, thrusting, almost gently at first, but then more insistently, harder, until she was grunting, pounding into him, and Jack was once more making those little noises, chirping prettily, his eyes closed, purple and green eyeshadow glittering in the darkness, his wet, red lips a little open, revealing a line of perfect white teeth and a wet, pink tongue.

"How long is she going to be able to keep this up?" Paul said, shaking his head as Marybeth kept thrusting into pretty little Jack Danger.

"She's a freaking stud," Kate said. "I wish she'd come back as a man and take care of me."

"I bet you do," Paul said, struggling to mentally tame his raging boner, and not even fully aware that he'd begun to imagine what it was like for Jack to be under that man, getting boned.

Marybeth suddenly seemed to stiffen, clenching her jaw.

"She's shooting her load," Kate said, covering her mouth.

Jack screamed out again, a scream of pure female ecstasy, and then Marybeth, her muscled body soaked in sweat, rolled off and lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling, smiling, feeling proud of herself. "Was that good for you?" She asked, though she knew very well she'd blown Jack's pretty little mind.

"Oh my god," Kitty said, rolling over to kiss Marybeth and then rest her head on her chest. "I've never been fucked like that before. You're amazing."

Jack was lost in a hormonal haze, drifting in a feminine glow, oxytocin and serotonin and everything else buzzing in his body's brain as he and Kitty both found themselves imprinting on this amazing man who had just been so generous and perfect and had taken them to places they thought only existed in romance novels.

Marybeth, for her part, feeling Jack's soft breasts pressing into her side, looking at his gorgeous face and seeing the blissful look of a woman who had been good and well fucked, seeing the damp edges of his long hair clinging to his smooth back, well, she just felt like she liked him this way, preferred him really, and had she ever shown him who the man in their relationship really was?

They snuggled for a time, Marybeth idly rubbing her hand over Jack's tummy, and as Jack lay there reveling in the afterglow, he found his thoughts and memories intertwined with Kitty's, as he remembered the guy who popped his cherry, and what a let down that had been, and how he'd cried because it had been a mistake, and he only knew it after it was too late.

He remembered his first kiss--in seventh grade, with an 8th grade boy, and how proud he'd been when he gone back and told the other girls, and they had all been giggling and asking him what it was like, and did they French or just regular kiss?

"Oh, shit!" Jack said, sitting up, tossing his hair. "I have another performance!"

"Wait? When?"

"I have to go!" jack said, getting up, putting his heels back on, grabbing his bra and giving Marybeth a quick kiss, rubbing his fingers across the bristle of her five o'clock shadow, before hurrying to the door, bare breasts swaying.

Marybeth watched him go, admiring his incredible ass. It was like two cantaloupes, hard and firm, but soft at the same time, and jiggly, and as he walked in his heels, it swayed back and forth seductively, and rose up to the tiniest waist, and she felt herself getting hard again as she wondered what it would be like to take him doggy-style.

Jack made it back to the dressing room with just barely enough time to fix his hair and makeup, refresh his body glitter, and when he pranced out onto the stage this time he saw Mary Beth standing right at the edge to the stage, staring at him like she would like to eat him, and his whole body tingled with pleasure.

After, Jack showered, getting the glitter off, then once more fixed his makeup and hair. I guess I better get used to it, he thought as he primped.

Girls like us take a lot of maintenance, Kitty agreed.

After, Marybeth walked him home, her arm around his shoulder, pulling Jack to her protectively. Jack loved the feeling of being walked home by her man, and he couldn't stop glancing up at her and grinning, feeling so proud, his high heels clacking. "Okay," Jack said. "This is me."

They turned to face each other, Jack perched on his heels, looking up at Marybeth, his breasts almost brushing against her chest. She looked down at her pretty little partner, leaned in for a good night kiss.

Jack put his hand on Marybeth's hard chest. "We better not. My boyfriend is upstairs."

"You have a boyfriend?"

"This body has a boyfriend, I mean," Jack said, biting his lip. "I don't want to mess up my makeup."

Marybeth put her arms around Jack and pulled him, smothering his objections with the most passionate kiss yet. One of Jack's legs kicked up, and Marybeth let her hands slide down to that incredible ass of his, and she squeezed, hard, and Jack saw stars when the kiss ended, falling into Marybeth and clinging to him.

Marybeth smelled his hair--strawberries and vanilla--held his face. "Let's meet tomorrow. Early. Make some progress on this stupid case."

"Okay," Jack said. "Whatever you think is best."

"Night, honey."

"Goodnight."

In the foyer to his building, Jack pulled out his compact and fixed his lipstick, then went up and let himself into his apartment. Lyle was asleep--thank god-so Jack just slipped into Kitty's pajamas and plunged into the kind of blissful sleep only a girl who has been truly and completely satisfied will ever know.

In the morning, Jack got up early and had breakfast already made when the kids came blearily out of their rooms rubbing the sleep from their eyes. Jack felt his heart swell with maternal warmth and love for his babies, and when they said, "Good morning, Mommy," he smiled and tousled their hair.

Getting the kids off to school was a chore, and getting Lyle off to work, but when he was finally done, he sighed and took a quick shower, then said, Kitty, you take over now.

Take over now? Kitty said. Jack, I've been running the show all morning.

These are cute Jack said as Kitty wiggled into a pair of pink panties with a little bow on the waistband. Really?

I know. So cute. Our new boyfriend will love them.

Jack giggled, and then oooohed when he saw the bra that went with the panties-- pink with white lace trim, and little bows on the shoulder straps. You said you were in charge?

Yeah. The whole time.

But I felt like I was in charge.

Weird, Kitty said, as she hooked the bra, turned it around and then slipped the straps over their round, little shoulders. She turned to check out their profile.

Our boobs look so good in this. Wow.

It's an underwire bra and really lift them, Kitty said.

I feel like I am doing all this, Jack said. The bra. The panties. Like I am controlling our body. Something's going on.

Kitty sensed the tension in Jack's voice, the edge of panic and maybe some kind of hysteria-drive hissy fit. She didn't know what was happening, but she liked it. She felt like maybe Jack was becoming subsumed into her, becoming part of her, a passenger just as she'd been when he'd first hijacked her body. She thought, and then said, This is a good thing.

Good?

It means we are merging again. Becoming one.

I feel more like I am disappearing, Jack said, once more feeling that sense of wrongness about the whole thing.

"You're not," Kitty said out loud. "You're just remembering who you are."

I don't know, Jack said.

Oh, Kitty said, sitting down at her dressing table and opening a tube of deep, wine red lipstick. Look at this. It's drive Max crazy.

That, Jack answered, feeling insanely in love with the shade of red, is such an amazing color.

Wait until you see how it looks on us.

Max will want to kiss it right off.

Say. Let me teach you all about doing your make-up. It will help you remember.

Jack nodded, ignoring some small voice that was screaming objections, wanting him to focus on the question of who was in control, and why this all felt wrong, and what Max had meant talking about targets and all that stuff, but something else much stronger pushed all that aside. He remembered how as a little girl he'd always looked up to his mom and aunts, and how they always looked so perfect and pretty with their long lashes, perfect eyebrows, shadowed eyelids and glossy lips. He'd begged and begged his mom to let him wear makeup, but she'd made him wait until he turned 13 even though a lot of the other girls were already wearing it. Finally, when he'd turned thirteen, his mom had sat down with him and done his make-up, teaching him all about the brushes and powders, the glosses and blushes, and he'd made it his mission to learn everything, and to always be on the latest trends, and he'd always had the best make-up of any girl he knew...

"That was such a special day," Kitty said.

What?

When Mom started to teach us, did our face.

It's one of our favorite memories, right? Jack said, feeling nostalgic.

"And let's relive it now. Ready, girlie?"

Ready, Jack said.

Okay, then.... And Jack watched, rapt and happy, as he learned all the things a girl needs to know about making herself pretty.

There'd been a shift change back at base. Now, Carol and Janet watched, smirking. "Jack seems to be taking his role very seriously," Carol said.

"Right? I never expected it out of him. Look at that bra."

"Look at his boobs."

"Hopefully, it will him less of an asshole."

"I doubt it."

While Jack endured the lengthy, complicated process of getting ready as a woman, Marybeth work up, took a shower, shaved, dressed and was out the door in less than 30 minutes. Not that much different than her usual routine; women in null time had largely done away with things like make-up unless for a very special occasion. Consequently, when she saw Jack walk into the coffee shop where they'd agreed to meet, he looked to her like a woman advertising her submissiveness to the world; the heels, the tight blouse that hugged her firm and impressive breasts, the short skirt, the sparkling, flashing jewelry at her wrists and around her neck, the earrings, and especially the way she'd painted her face, it all said to the world I am a pretty, helpless thing to be pursued and protected.

Marybeth found the man in her bowing up, feeling strong. She loved having Jack like this, and when he glanced around the room, saw her and then gave her a little wave and a bright smile, she stood, feeling very much the stud, and greeted him with a hug and a peck on the cheek. "You look great," she said, wanting to encourage his blossoming femininity.

"Thanks," Jack said, hooking his hair behind his ear. "You're--I guess I should say--handsome?"

"Yeah. Let's go."

"I thought we were going to talk about--um, the case?"

"I got a lead. Come on." Marybeth took Jack's hand and headed toward the door. He hurried behind, struggling to keep with his shorter legs, tight skirt and heels.

"Um, could you slow down a little?" Jack said in a small voice. "I can't--these shoes?"

Marybeth slowed down, squeezing his hand, glancing back and saying, "You are such a girl."

Jack flushed with pleasure at the compliment and squeezed back.

They hurried down a series of streets and then came to a narrow, dark alley. Letting go of Jack's hand, Marybeth pulled out the tracker, and it was flashing, showing close proximity. "Down here," Max said, starting down the alley.

Jack grabbed her hand, peering warily down the alley. "I'm scared."

Marybeth looked at him, with confusion and also-- passion. It was such a turn on to see him like this. "I'll protect you," she said. 'You'll be fine."

"Okay," Jack said. 'I'm sorry. It's just--" He glanced down at his body.

"You should have taken the fighting as female courses," Marybeth said, brushing her hand against his smooth cheek.

Jack didn't know what that meant, but he nodded. "I know. I'm sorry."

"Let's go," Max said, pulling jack along down into the alley. It smelled of rotting garbage, and jack wrinkled his nose. Max was following her tracker, moving confidently along the alley, back, back, toward a door--metal, rusty, peeling green paint. "I have to let go of your hand now," Marybeth said, in a calming, soothing voice. "But I'll be right here."

"Okay," Jack whispered. When Marybeth let go of his hand, he grabbed his purse strap, clinging to it for comfort.

Marybeth tried the door. It was locked, so she found a plank of wood from a shipping pallet, and taking it she slammed it against the handle until it broke and fell to the ground. Then, she grabbed the empty hole in the door where the handle had been.

Jack moved to stand next to her, but slightly behind. They could hear something inside, making a noise like scratching. Jack's heart was racing, and then Marybeth pulled the door open. Sitting there on the old, stained concrete entry way was a huge, fat, black rat with a pink nose, sniffing the air.

At the sight of it, Jack screamed, and then the rat ran-right toward him! Jack felt him seized with absolute terror that the rat would climb his leg, get under his skirt, and he lifted one heeled foot, practically climbing onto Marybeth's back, trying to get away from that horrible, ugly little rat!

Shocked, Marybeth grabbed Jack, then turned him onto his back and cradled him like a child, while they both watched the rat scurry away down the alley, knocking over some metal cans someone had piled into a small pyramid.

When Marybeth sat Jack back down on his feet, she was looking at him with concern. "Jack," she said. "I should have seen this sooner, but you are melding with your host."

Jack felt himself splitting off from Kitty again, felt himself splitting off from himself, and he swayed, putting his hands to his head. "Jack? What are you talking about?"

And he felt himself being shoved back, back into the passenger seat.

"Shit," Kitty said. "I have to go!"

Marybeth grabbed jack's arm. "What's your name? What's the code word?"

'I'll scream!" Kitty said, struggling to free herself.

But Marybeth raised her tracker, pushed a button and it flashed, once, twice, three times.

Jack blinked. Shook his head. Wobbled as he forgot how to walk in high heels. "Holy crap," he said, putting a hand against the wall to steady himself. "I was almost gone."

Chapter 4

"I didn't realize until just now," Marybeth said, feeling guilty and also very unprofessional. "Sorry."

"You didn't--? Bullshit," Jack said.

"I didn't think you were melding."

"Really? Because the fact that I let you fuck me should have been a sign."

"I just thought you wanted to experiment."

"You're so full of shit," Jack said, annoyed at his high-pitched voice. He could hear Kitty shouting angrily, but she'd been pushed back to a whisper, and he could tune her out fairly easily. "They saw it. Back at base."

"Yeah," Marybeth chuckled. "They heard it, too. You're quite the little screamer."

Jack clenched his fist, thinking to punch her, but he knew it would just seem feeble and weak, so he just swallowed his embarrassment and said, "Let's get back to the mission, so I can get out of this crap." He gestured at his tight, impractical and uncomfortable clothes.

"Sure," Marybeth said.

Eager to reestablish himself as leader, Jack walked past her, uncertain in his heels, but getting the hang of it.

"Right. Yes," Marybeth said. "Your ass does look great in that skirt, though."

Jack flipped her off, climbing the stairs, clinging to the banister as he got the gist of maneuvering a set of stairs in pumps. Why did women ever wear these ridiculous shoes? He wondered, and then he remembered his mother telling him--because they make men crazy.

My mom? Uh oh. Jack realized that he had some memory bleed. Protocol was for him to bail on the mission, get back to base, but he ignored all that. He couldn't go back now having been banged by his partner and also bailing on the mission. He had to save face somehow.

The reached the top of the stairs and made their way down a dingy hall lines with doors. A single light flickered. A window at the end of the hall, smeared with filth, let in some tepid light. The tracker led them to a door at the end of the hall. A lusterless faux brass number hung crookedly on the door: Apartment 9F.

Jack knocked. He heard someone moving inside.

"Maybe I better---" Marybeth started to say, taking Jack's arm.

He shook her off. "I got this."

"Who is it?" A man asked gruffly from the other side in what Jack thought he recognized as a Russian accent.

Jack, remembering his debriefing on the era, said, "Amazon fulfillment."

They waited as latched and locks were opened, and then the door opened a crack and a young man poked his head out. He had short, golden hair and the prettiest blue eyes Jack had ever seen plus--those lips! Jack wondered what it would be like to kiss him even as the man let his eyes drift from Jack's face to his breasts. Jack hooked his hair behind his ear and smiled. "Hi," Jack said, looking up at the man, subconsciously bringing his knees together.

But the man, seeing Jack had no packages and was not dressed as a delivery person, sensed danger, and started to slam the door.

Marybeth shoved herself forward, knocking Jack down, and wedging herself into the door. The man turned and ran back into the apartment. Jack, struggled to get to his feet, and when he finally did he hurried into the apartment to see Marybeth and the man exchanging blows. The man slammed his fist into Marybeth's side, and then she delivered a haymaker to his jaw.

Jack, clinging to his purse strap, called out "be careful!" In a pretty little voice of concern, watching the men fight, feeling so helpless!

The Russian, it had to Vicki Vixen, got in two really solid blows, and Jack saw Marybeth reeling, woozy from the shots, kind of stumbling backwards. Vixen grinned, and bull charged Marybeth, slamming her into the wall and then delivering a barrage of blows that sent her plunging into unconsciousness. Vicki looked at Jack, who felt himself trembling. Turning, he ran for the door, but in his tight skirt and heels all he could manage was a feeble trot, and he screamed as Vixen grabbed him around the waist and pulled him back into the apartment. Vixen's hand went over Jack's mouth, and she lifted him off his feet. One of his heels came off, clattering to the floor.

Jack struggled in Vixen's arms for a moment, but he was too small and weak, and he found himself filled with a sudden new terror, one he'd never felt before--the terror that this big, strong man was going to--fuck him.

"Stop fighting," Vixen said. "Don't make a sound. If you cause any trouble, Jack is gonna get it." She nodded toward Marybeth, crumpled in the corner. "Understand?"

Jack nodded. Vixen grabbed Jack's purse and tossed it across the room, then shoved him down onto a wooden chair. "Put your hands behind your back." In moments, she tied him into place with a chunk of electric cord she's ripped from a lamp, and Jack was sitting, silently, trying to figure some way out of it all, when he heard a door open and a little girl walked bashfully into the room. "is it safe now?" She asked.

Jack recognized her right away. Viachi!

The girl was holding a doll dressed in a bikini - a doll of a woman with long blonde hair voluptuous breasts and legs that went on forever.

"Yeah," Vixen said. "Now get back in there, stop playing with your dolls and work on the code."

"Okay," Viachi said, turning and going back into the room.

Vixen saw Jack staring at the door where Viachi had gone and chuckled. "Yeah. This one may have been too much for Viachi. I think he's had a break down and just - lost it. Just wants to play with his dolls and watch Sailor Moon all day."

"Serves him right," Jack said, aware of the irony, but glad that if he had to jump into a female he was at least a grown-up.

Vixen's face darkened. "You're lucky I don't just kill the both of you."

"Why don't you?"

"I need hostages for the next pair of time agents they send this way."

Jack scanned the room while also working on loosening his bindings. "So, what's the big plan this time?"

"Oh, just to once and for all free humanity."

"How?"

Vixen, who'd sat down at an ancient looking computer, glanced back at Jack. "Trying to get me to reveal Viachi's evil plan?"

"Yes," Jack said, smiling.

"It's very simple. Fazon doesn't exist yet. They haven't created their one world monopoly, invented time travel, set up their base in the null zone. In fact, they are still two different companies, in this era known as Facebook and Amazon. We destroy one of those companies, we destroy their tyranny over time and all mankind."

"But you were born After Fazon. You'll probably cease to exist."

"I know," Vixen said, and now her eyes glimmered with a zeal bordering on madness. "This is a suicide mission."

"But what about all the others whose timelines will be erased? Who will never be born, or who will not be the people they are but some other person?"

"Always the same old bullshit from you people," Vixen said, chuckling. "But it's never about all those people and their time lines. It's only about preserving Fazon."

"Vick," Viachi called from the other room. "Can, you, um, come in here, please?"

Vixen smiled. "He's adorable. Wouldn't you agree?"

Jack didn't answer, but just kept working on loosening his bonds.

Vixen went back and forth between the two rooms. Marybeth woke to find herself bound and gagged, and though she made eye contact with Jack did her best to make Vixen think she was still sleeping. Jack was worried about his kids. There was no conference, so they could get themselves home okay, but he didn't like them being home without any supervision, and if this plan worked? They would cease to exist! His babies!

Oh, hell, he realized. Those aren't my kids. But, he felt a deep, aching sadness at the thought he might lose them nonetheless. He had to save them. Somehow.

Finally, they heard a shout of triumph from the other room, and Viachi came skipping into the room, clapping his little hands. "Triumph!" He said.

"It's done?" Vixen said.

"Done."

"I'll initiate the start sequence now," Vixen said, tapping some keys on her computer.

"Goodie," Viachi said. "Is it okay if I play with my Barbies now?"

"Of course, sweetie.'

Viachi scampered off to play with his dolls, his ponytail swaying from side to side.

"One hour," Vixen said, triumphantly. "One hour and the software will have destroyed Facebook forever."

"How?"

"Viruses in every server. A massive hack that begins posting all kinds of embarrassing and illegal things to every single profile. Then, while they are busy trying to correct that problem, another virus spreads that in three days will crash every server, and when they get them back up, all the profiles will be scrambled, and then it just keeps on from there as all the advertisements are associated with child pornographers, neo-Nazis, Justin Bieber. The company will collapse, and the future saved!"

"Oh my god," Jack said. "You've done it. You've really done it."

"Yes, we have, and you will be here to see the end of Fazon right along with us."

Jack knew he had to do something, anything, and as much as it shamed him, he knew he had to do everything to save the world, to save his babies. He drew on his feminine wiles. Tears started to pour down his cheeks. "I'm going to die," he said in a tiny voice. "Cease to exist."

Seeing Jack crying caused something to melt in Vixen, and her new masculinity made her want to comfort this sad, weeping woman. "Oh, it's okay. Come on."

"How is it okay?" Jack said. "Tell me."

"It'll be over in a flash. No pain. You won't even know you're gone."

"But that's what makes it so terrible."

"Oh, come on now," Vixen said, desperately trying to figure out how to get this silly woman to stop crying. 'How about a drink? That'll make you feel better."

Jack nodded.

Vixen went and got a bottle of champagne and popped the cork, white foam pouring from the bottle. "I thought I was going to have to drink this alone."

She poured some in a glass, and then put the glass to Jack's lips so he could sip. "It tickles my nose," Jack giggled. "That's good."

Vixen tossed back the rest of the glass, then another, before giving Jack another drink. Jack bit his lip. "Um, since the world is ending, at least for us, and we're about to cease to exist, do you want to...? You know?"

Vixen looked at Jack. Shrugged. "Why not?" She knelt to untie him, and then said, "Try anything, and I will break that pretty little neck."

"Understood."

"You don't stand a chance against me anyway. You're such a tiny little thing--except for those huge tits of yours."

"This girl didn't train at all," Jack said, looking at his scrawny little arms.

Vixen kissed Jack, then again. And then she took his hand and led him to the couch., pulling off her shirt while Jack undid his blouse. Seeing Vixen's rock hard chest and the deep, cut ridges of her abs gave Jack a thrill, and he felt his nipples tightening as he looked at her hard body. He remembered what it had been like to have Max inside him, thrusting into him, and the orgasms he'd had echoed in his mind, making his mouth dry and his body grown hot.

Kitty was growing stronger, too. He could hear her more clearly now, but he ignored her.

Vixen pushed Jack onto his back, putting one hand roughly on Jack's breast, squeezing it through the stiff cup while she kissed him again. Jack moaned, and glancing at the clock ticking down on the laptop thought--what the hell? Why not get a quickie before saving the world? He grabbed Vixen's biceps and squeezed the bulging muscles, then ran his hands along her back as she continued to squeezed his breasts, kissing him again and again before shifting down to suck and kiss his neck.

Jack pushed his skirt down, and his panties, then started to undo Vixen's pants, pushing them down and then pulling her junk out of her underwear. Vixen climbed on, getting into position, and lifted his legs and shifted his hips. He could feel her hard shaft against the inside of his thing, and it was driving him insane--he wanted her inside him so bad!

"Fuck me," Jack whispered into Vixen's ear.

"You're such a dirty girl," Vixen said.

The phrase dirty girl sent a thrill through Jack's body and he giggled, reaching down to grab Vixen's penis, and then guiding it between the lips of his vagina. Vixen started to grind, and Jack threw his head back, making those little sounds again, and as they worked towards climax he dug his long nails into Vixen's back, raking her flesh.

Vixen laughed as the pain mixed with her pleasure, and she felt the pressure building in her, building.

"Hold it back," Jack begged. "Hold it back. I'm not there - yet---- uuuunngggg"

He felt Vixen pouring into him, hot and sticky, but instead of the explosion of orgasmic pleasure he'd experienced with Marybeth, this time when Vixen rolled off, tumbling to the floor, he just felt... empty. Deprived. Asshole, he thought, looking down at the smug, self-satisfied male, who had a hazy look in his eyes and already seemed to be drifting off to sleep. Men!

"Was that good for you?" Vixen asked in her sleep muddled voice, the tone flat and disinterested.

"You were amazing," Jack answered, trying to sound like he meant it.

Back at time central, all four agents now watched, but now with a new interest. The world around them had started to... break and fade.... Pieces of the room suddenly vanished, and they felt themselves flickering in and out of existence... "Come on, Jackie!" Paul said. "You have to save us."

Jack pulled his panties back up, wiggling into them and then pushing down his skirt. He sat up, knees together, tossing his hair. "I'm going to get a drink. You want something?"

Vixen grunted a no. Not used to being the guy, she hadn't expected to feel so drowsy and tired, and allowed herself to just drift off. Jack saw a knife rack in the kitchen, and he pulled a long knife with a sharp edge that glittered wickedly. But as Jack walked back toward Vixen, he looked at his slender arm, felt the weight of his heavy breasts jiggling in his bra, and turned and walked over to MaryBeth. He needed a man to handle this for him.

"Thank God," Kate said as the room cheered. "I thought she was going to try and take care of this herself."

As soon as Jack cut her bindings, Kate took the knife from him. Jack, his hands to his cheeks, watched as Kate walked over and plunged the knife right into Vixen's heart. Shocked, Jack let out a tiny scream. "Why did you do that?"

Marybeth didn't answer, instead she stalked toward the door where Viachi had gone to play with his dolls. "Don't you dare hurt her," Jack said.

Maybeth pushed him out of the way, kicking open the door. A loud explosion greeted her, and she spun and hit the floor as a bullet slammed into her shoulder. Jack hurried to her, looking up to see Viachi on his back, shaking his head, having been knocked off his feet by the recoil of the pistol.

The gun lay on the floor, smoking, next to a doll house, where Barbie and Ken sat having tea.

Jack looked at the gun. Viachi looked at the gun. They looked at each other.

Jack sprang into the room, breasts bouncing, but free of his heels he could move much better. Viachi crawled toward the gun. They got there at the same time, lunging for the cold, black steel of the pistol, and they both hit it and sent it careening off across the hardwood floor. Viachi started to get up and run toward the gun once more, but Jack, remembering how he'd handled his own kids through the years, grabbed him under the armpits and lifted him into the air, kicking furiously. "Put me down!" Viachi huffed. "Put! Me! Down!"

Jack plopped Viachi down on the bed, and then shouted, "Listen, young lady!"

Viachi, reacting to the imperatives of his host body's imperatives, froze, his mouth hanging open. The little girl in him knew that tone very well; it meant he was in big trouble.

"You are going to march right over there to that computer, and you are going to undo the viral attack you started."

Viachi crossed his arms and frowned. "Will not!"

"Have you thought this through?" Jack said. "Don't you realize that you are going to disappear? You will lose.... Your dolls! All your toys!"

A look of concern grew in Viachi's eyes as he struggled to fight against the girlish impulses controlling him. "Really?"

"Yes." Jack picked up Viachi's Barbie. "What's her name?"

"Barbie."

"You will never see Barbie again. Never ever."

Tears started to build in Viachi's eyes.

"is that what you want?"

"No," Viachi admitted, shaking his head dramatically. He held out his arms.

Jack handed Viachi his doll, and immediately a look for pure relief spread over his pretty face. She's so cute! Jack thought. Then, Jack picked up the little girl and carried her over to the computer. She worked fast, occasionally pausing to tug on her ponytail, and after what seemed like an eternity, but still left 4:01 on the countdown to extermination, she clapped and did a little dance in her seat. "Did it!"

Jack picked her up, hugged her, and said, "You're an amazing little girl!"

Viachi hugged her and said, "Thanks, Mommy."

Poor thing, jack thought, give her another hug, remembering she was an orphan. She must have been so lonely all these years!

Back in the living room, Marybeth had tied something around her wound and reconfigured her Tracker for extraction. On the floor lay--a pool of blood. "Vixen?"

"I must have missed her heart," Marybeth said. "While I was watching you win the mommy of the year award, she slipped away."

"Lucky you," Jack said. "She just saved you from a trial and, probably, jail time."

"Whatever."

Men! Jack thought.

"Are we going back to the future?" Viachi said.

"Yes."

"Am I in trouble?"

"Maybe a little, but don't worry about that, honey. You saved everything, so that counts for something."

Epilogue

Kitty Danger had never woken in the body of a man, though she remembered some part version of herself had been one. When she first opened her eyes back in her former self's apartment, she'd sat up hoping to find her familiar soft, curvy body, and had been disappointed and disgusted to see she had a flat, hairy chest, and a dumb looking thing dangling between her legs. It would be best to just pretend she was still Jack Danger, she'd decided, so she could keep working, and hopefully jump back into the past and be a woman again. In the meantime, she would be spending a lot of time in the female training modules!

Viachi had come back still in the shape of the little girl. She'd been too far gone. Jack's heart went out to her, and he missed Kitty's kids so much, missed being a mother, that he'd adopted Vichi, as she liked to be called, and begun the challenging and rewarding task of raising a genius little girl with an anarchist' heart. But he still missed Kitty's kids, and many nights went he felt lonely he would turn on the time monitor and look in on them at different ages and times, and on Kitty as well, because he was pulling for her, because he was her.

As for sex, well, Marybeth had brought back some new habits and impulses as well, and on certain nights, when Vichi was out on a sleepover at some friend's house, she would come over and she and Jack Kitty would... have some fun.

Only she was Max, and he was Kitty.

The End