Gwendy's frown was ever-present as she made her way down to the front row of the theatre. She'd stepped on the wrong toes, and her chickenshit editor had relocated her to the entertainment beat, where she couldn't do any harm to his "insurance" rates. Now she was stuck covering Amateur Night at Chandra's, a 21-and-up club known for erotic "hypnotists," sexy magician acts, raunchy comedians and waitresses in bunny uniforms. Her camerawoman, Pat, panned across the crowd to show who was here. There was Councilwoman Sandra Terry, hopefully only watching so she could tell the others on the City Council what a horrible place this was and have it shut down. Over in one corner was Michiko Smith-Takei, the twentyish widow of Vernon Smith, the man who'd built the city from a fur-trading post of little importance into a major metropolitan area. The gold-digging bitch had inherited all of her late husband's money and was already courting another octigenarean billionaire. A smallish delegation from Put and End to Female Objectification, a local militant feminist group was seated at a nearby table. Pat drew Gwendy's attention to the fact that the group's leader, Athena Artemis (at least, that was what she'd had her name legally changed to before starting her group and entering the public eye), was attending this little function in person.

Athena smiled when she noticed the camera. Gwendy and Pat both realized that their presence here might goad the PEFO ball-busters to do something dangerous just for the free publicity.

The first act was a "comedianne" who spent her entire five minutes bragging about how she had her husband trained. The PEFO deligation hooted and cheered as the woman told of walking through the kitchen he'd just mopped with her muddy boots on just to smack him on the ass and tell him to get dinner started before she got mad.

The second act was a man "who knew his place," as Athena put it, and made light of how whipped he was. The third was a proud butch lesbian whose stance was simply that men were only useful as breeding stock, and then, only until science successfully creates a way for a child to be created using genetic material from two female eggs.

Gwendy was feeling bored by now. She spent a few minutes blowing a stray strand of her short, raven hair out of her face. Then the announcer came out to introduce the next act.

"Ladies and gentlemen, but particularly the ladies, it gives me great pleasure to introduce a man who's going to go far in the business... Aluicius Marlin!"

The man who came out next looked as if he'd just come from the office. White-collar shirt with the top button undone, brown slacks, brown loafers and gray socks, though maybe a little too muscular to be an accountant or computer programmer, unless he spent ever off-hour at the gym.

"Thank you, Larry, thank you." said Mr. Marlin. "Just let me change into something a little more appropriate." He opened his arms, and his clothing turned to smoke, swirling around until it changed into an Annikin Skywalker black sleeveless number, but with a cape. "Ah, much better!" he said. Michiko got up and tried to run. Aluicius made a gesture and all the doors slammed shut. Michiko pounded on the door, terrified, screaming and generally making a big deal out of what was little more than an impressive trick. Pat was getting the whole spazz-out on tape.

Aluicius made another gesture, and Michiko was yanked up onto the stage as if she were on a stunt harness. Her red Chinese dress fluttered in the breeze of her passing. Her captor flattened out his hand, and she stopped, and her limbs extended to a spread-eagle position. Gwendy had been to Israel, Iraq, Somalia and every nation on Earth whose name ended in -stan. She had seen terror, and it was all over Michiko's face. Pat had the sense to zoom in on that face before Aluicius turned her around so they couldn't see her.

"P-p-prease, ret me go." Michiko whimpered.

"Why are you so frightened, my dear?" Aluicius asked softly, just loud enough for the microphone to project it to the back of the room, as he caressed her pretty Japanese face.

"You... you no fake." Michiko said.

"You would prefer I were a charlatain?" Aluicius asked. "A mere illusionist? Someone for the Masked Magician to debunk on national television? I'm always disappointed by such characters. There's nothing to them, no substance, only parlor tricks I could outdo on my worst day." He gestured, and her spread-eagle posture became something more like military attention. "My dear, look at you, you're so tense. Relax. Sleep." He touched her forehead, and her eyes rolled back, then she went as limp as a rag doll, falling into his arms like a puppet with her strings cut. Four of the women from the PEFO table--everyone but Athena--got up and charged the door, trying desperately to get out. Aluicius grabbed a tophat out of nowhere and pulled out a flute, then set the hat on stage. He began to play a lively dance tune on the flute, and four ropes emerged from the hat like snakes being charmed.

At least it's not that old Snake-Charmer's Dance song. Gwendy thought to herself. Just then, the ropes extended across the stunned audience, wrapping themselves around the four PETO girls' waists and bringing them to the stage as well. Soon they lay limp and helpless on the stage beside Michiko.

"As you can see, ladies and gentlemen, I am no charlatain. Even these militant feminists fall helpless under my sway."

"YOU LET THEM GO!" Athena snarled, knocking over her table and marching toward the stage. Aluicius made a rising gesture, and Athena floated into the air. "PUT ME DOWN, YOU CAN'T DO THIS!"

"No?" Aluicius asked, sounding amused. "Such a catty creature. Perhaps I should give you a more fitting form." Athena's facial expression turned from rage to discomfort. She grabbed her behind, and her expression turned to shock. "Here, let me help you with that." Aluicius said, and her pants split. A long, furry tail unfurled from its confinement, lashing in the air just like a real cat's tail, when the cat it's attached to is angry.

"Mew?" Athena said, then covered her mouth in surprise. A thin coating of fur, barely as thick as a cheap T-shirt, sprouted on her body, and her human ears absorbed into her head to be replaced with catlike ones on top as the fur turned red-blonde just like her hair. Pat zoomed in to get a shot of her wide, catlike eyes, complete with slitted pupils. Aluicius set her roughly on the stage, and she stopped changing. She tried to pounce, her newfound claws extended as far as they would go, but was stopped in midair by a gesture from Aluicius.

"You should know better than that, pretty kitty." Aluicius said. He touched her forehead, and she went to sleep as well. Her second landing on the stage was much more gentle. Everything male in the audience, and many females, cheered. "Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. And now, on with the show!" He made a gesture, and the sleeping Michiko rose, like a puppet whose strings were being taken up. She assumed a rigid posture, as stiff as a board, and was tilted horizontally. Aluicius made a circle of fire appear, and passed it over Michiko like a magician showing that his levitating subject was not being suspended by strings. However, as he passed it over her, her clothes changed. Her Chinese dress disappeared and was replaced with red lingerie and a collar. He placed her feet on the stage and tilted her upright again, so she was standing. Then he groped her tiny boobs. Gwendy gasped, outraged at his treatment of her--then Michiko's breasts started growing, right in front of everyone's eyes. They went from barely-there to bountiful bazoombas in the time it took to inflate a balloon. Those breasts were soft and yielding, and yet defied gravity like the firmest implants. He snapped his fingers, and she opened her eyes. She screamed in horror at what she was wearing, or perhaps it was what her chest had become, or both.

Most likely both. Gwendy thought, wishing she dared try to leave. The magician touched Michiko's forehead again, and her eyes closed for a moment while her face drained of fear--or any expression of any kind. When they opened, they were featureless orbs that glowed blue. She sank down to her knees and simply knelt there, without complaint or comment or even a change in her blank expression.