Chapter 7: A New Broomstick To Ride

Stiletto heels echoed down the long corridors of BimboTech's Los Angeles office. Willow was being lead to her fate. It seemed to make the bimbos around her insane with high-pitched laughter.

They fawned over the redhead like she was the newest toy.

"Like, almost there, honey," Tittiefuck sang in her sweet voice, and continued to strut down the hallway. Willow breathed in the clouds of bimbo perfume. It made her lips curl in a carefree smile.

Of course, there was this nagging feeling.

Deep down she knew things were wrong. An irritating little voice kept telling her that. She resisted the irritation to make it go away. And it did. The damn voice got weaker and farther between.

Is there anything that a good giggle can't fix?

Then there was the numb hurt over Tara's apparent lack of interest in her. It had made her feel so... inadequate. She remembered the wave of warm welcome she had felt when the girls came to fetch her.

She so wanted to belong. It made her ache.

Willow sighed. There were so many good reasons to find her new self as soon as possible. To be one with her new sisters. To giggle with them. Be desired again. Soon, real soon. Mmmmm...

Willow wouldn't fight. Willow would go along with everything.

She had done her fighting. She felt tired. She did not want to feel tired anymore. She'd rather go with this new sweet energy that had suddenly come over her suggestible mind. If she became a new and happy Willow, then maybe Tara — Titya - would want her again?

Willow giggled along with the bimbos' brainless banter. It felt good. It just seemed the thing to do.

Only when they arrived at their destination, shards of reality re-entered Willow's mind. She took in the room. It was white and light. Two men were waiting. The first welcomed her and said he was Fink. He was well dressed. He rubbed his hands together. He also rolled from his heels to his soles and back again.

The man smiled.

But it was a poor and transparent diversion from his predatory eyes. Deep inside the old Willow felt repulsed by him. But who listened to the old, nagging Willow anymore? Quite a more attractive Willow told her that she should have a deep loyalty for the man.

He deserved her gratitude for the glorious service he did to women. He gave them life and joy. He made them beautiful and wanted.

He made them happy.

Willow looked across the room. She narrowed her eyes a bit. There, in a tall chair sat a giant of a man. It resembled a throne that enhanced his imposing presence.

He looked as strong and masculine as anyone Willow had ever seen. If Willow were a straight woman, this might be an ideal male specimen for her. But as it was, she wrinkled her nose at the Adonis before her. And she gulped as she laid her eyes on the large lump in his tight leather pants.

Then she gasped. She realized who he was.

Truly he had been transformed beyond belief. But Willow could still make out the face of her longtime best friend, Xander Harris. A flash of pain hit her. An acute sense of loss.

She remembered all the fun times they had had growing up together in Sunnydale. Tears burnt at the rims of her eyes. She knew that all those fond memories would soon be gone.

They would be the memories of two dead people.

Xander had always been one of the funniest people she had known. But in this new Xander's changed face there was no sign of humor. There was an otherworldly coldness in his eyes. It sent chills up Willow's spine. While Xander's eyes were a warm brown, this new creature's eyes looked a most unnatural blue.

They seemed to pierce her very soul.