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From: "Louis Nessus" <nessus29@hotmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Nessus RP:A Matter of Design Pts 11 and 12 (TG)
Date: Fri,  5 Jan 2001 09:10:04 -0500
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This story is intended for the enjoyment of adults over the age of 18 or 
whatever the legal age is in your part of the universe. It contains fantasy 
scenes of graphic sexual activity.
   Please, if you are under the age of 18, or if you will be offended by 
such material, use your intelligence and read no further - delete file.  
Otherwise ....enjoy!

Distribute freely if you wish but, please, not to minors

A Matter of Design.

by Nessus

(Part 11)

I stared at the door for a few moments in emotional turmoil until I burst 
into tears. Slumped over the table I sobbed my heart out, crying for myself 
and what I was and what I am now. Also for Barbara and how I had been used.
Mostly for Barbara.
Finally, the tears subsided and I unsteadily walked to the mirror, looking 
at my teary and messy face. After I cleaned up, I changed clothes, tearing 
the stockings and garter belt off angrily and thrusting them into the bag. 
Instead of the skirt, I chose an elegant fawn linen pants suit and cream 
blouse with sandals with my hair swept into a long pony-tail.
I picked up the card and the keys, looking at the address. At least it was 
in a good part of the city and near the beach. The suitcase had wheels so I 
dragged it behind me down the hallway to the elevator and down to reception.
"Good morning, " I smiled at the young man behind the counter.
"Checking out, mam?" he asked, trying not to openly stare at me. Could I 
ever get used to this?
"I believe that has been taken care of by the Groves Corporation? I was in 
room 426?"
He checked on his screen and smiled at me. "Yes, Ms Paul. All charged to the 
company. There's a message for you as well. Here," he said, handing me a 
thick envelope. "Do you need help with your bag?"
"No," I smiled. "Thank you anyway." I pulled the suitcase back through the 
lobby to an armchair and opened the envelope. Inside was a wad of twenty 
dollar notes and a piece of paper. `Thought this might come in handy', the 
note said and it was signed PG.
He was right, I had no money and hadn't even thought of it. I stuffed the 
money into my handbag, slung it over my shoulder and pushed through the main 
doors into the street, pulling the bag behind me. That bastard had no right 
to be thoughtful!
The doorman rushed over and took the bag from me. "Can I get you a cab, 
miss?"
I smiled up at him. "Thank you. That would be nice." A shrill whistle and a 
cab rolled up, the doorman opening the door to place my bag in. "Thank you," 
I said as I folded myself in and he shut the door.
I read the new address from the card to the driver and I settled back and 
watched the city crawl past. After a few moments, I was aware of the driver 
eyeing me in his rear-vision mirror and I smiled at him.
"Sorry," he apologised, "I'm just trying to place you."
"Place me? I beg your pardon?"
"You're a movie actress, right?" I laughed. "One of those super models?" he 
said hopefully.
I laughed again. "Sorry, I'm nobody."
"Aw come on. What do you do?"
"I'm a secretary," I smiled and it was true, I realised. I was a secretary 
and I felt good about it.
"You're kidding?"
I shook my head. "Sorry."
"Okay." He shrugged and we drove on in silence until we pulled up in front 
of large apartment building about one block from the beach.
After paying the cab driver I got out and looked up. It looked clean and was 
in a great location. The driver pulled the bag next to me. "I'm sorry," I 
said. "I didn't mean for you to do that."
"I don't usually, lady but every now and again I make an exception." He 
scratched his head. "You know, I've had some pretty famous ladies in my cab 
over the years but you are the prettiest. Hope you don't mind me saying."
I smiled at him. He was a rough looking man of about forty or so. "Why thank 
you. That's the loveliest thing I heard." He tipped his hat and drove off. 
Every now and again, I get an inner flash of reality. What is it you're 
doing, the voice accuses me? You were born a male and now your accepting 
compliments from cab drivers!
Doing the best that I can in a very strange situation, that's what I'm 
doing, I said to myself and dragged the bag to the front door. It was a 
secure building and I struggled with the keys to find the one that would 
open the security door.
Suddenly, the door opened and an elderly man in a uniform of sorts stood 
there. "Can I help you, miss?" he asked.
"I'm just trying to find which key opens the front door."
"That one," he said pointing at a strange looking key. Are you Miss Paul?" 
he asked suddenly and I nodded. "You're moving in today, aren't you. Here, 
let me get your bag." He quickly pulled the bag in and I followed. "All your 
boxes arrived today and the removalist unpacked for you. I escorted them out 
of the building," he said proudly. "So, you're from out of town?"
"Yes," I answered. I suppose it was partially true.
"You'll find this a friendly building. My name is Victor and I'm the 
building supervisor. I live in apartment 3C so anytime you have a problem, 
please come down and see me. Now," he said leading the way to the elevators, 
"you're in 7B. Nice apartment. Two bedrooms and a view of the ocean."
I realised I wasn't going be able to get a word in with Victor so I just 
nodded and followed him into the elevator. A young man followed us in and 
smiled at me. Victor ploughed on. "Neil," he said," this is Ms Paul who's 
moving into 7B." Neil nodded at me and I smiled up at him. He was tall with 
light brown hair and a tanned complexion. By the way he was dressed, he had 
just come from a run on the beach. Victor continued while Neil and I smiled 
at each other. "Ms Paul has transferred in from out of town to work for the 
Groves Corporation. Neil has just graduated as an architect and is working 
for a local firm designing beach houses. Got that one on the bluff  built 
yet, Neil?" Neil shook his head, smiling at me. He had a lovely smile and I 
suddenly realised I found him attractive. It was a shock and I suddenly felt 
very sick.
"Are you all right?" Neil interrupted Victor as I leaned against the 
elevator wall. He had an Australian accent.
I stood up and smiled weakly. "Yes, I'm fine thank you. I've been travelling 
for sometime. I suppose I'm tired."
"Hey," said Victor, "you're from England, right?" I nodded and the elevator 
doors opened at the fifth floor.
"This is my floor," Neil said. "I'm in 5D. If you need help moving boxes, 
furniture  or something, give me a call. Glad to help."
"Thank you."
He turned to go and then turned back while Victor held the doors open. "Do 
you mind telling me your name? First one I mean."
"Not at all. It's Lucy."
"Lucy or Lucille?'
"I prefer Lucy."
"Nice to meet you, Lucy." He smiled, walked into the corridor and watched me 
until the doors slid shut.
"He's a nice young man, Ms Paul," Victor said.
"Please call me Lucy," I said, happy to get a word in.
The apartment was wonderful. All the walls were painted white and the floors 
were polished hardwood. Just the sort of place Paul Groves would have hated 
and I loved it. A print of a Mediterranean court-yard scene hung over the  
cane sofa and sliding doors led to a small balcony that over looked the 
ocean. Paul Groves must really need me, I thought. This must have cost a 
packet.
Sliding the doors open, I stood on the balcony and breathed the ocean. It 
was a sunny day, not a cloud in the sky and the water looked marvellous.
Really, I thought to myself, life is not too awful.
Smiling, I went in to unpack and to explore my new home.

(Part 12)

All my clothes had been hung in the closets and the kitchen cupboards and 
the refrigerator were full of food. They, the Groves Corporation, had 
thought of everything.
I changed into running shorts, a loose top and Nike runners. I pulled my 
hair into a pony tail and threaded it through the hole at the back of my 
cap. Sunglasses on and I headed down to the lobby.
Running along the beach was fantastic. I felt my muscles stretch as I paced 
through the soft waves and powered down the sand. I really needed this, this 
exercise. Somehow, it fed me, kept me going, kept me alive.
Stopping at the breakwater, I bent over to regain my breath. Every muscle in 
my body was alive and I felt great as I strolled along the waters edge 
towards the apartment.
Back in my apartment, I opened the pantry and surveyed the contents. "Now, " 
I said, tossing my cap on the bench. "Let's see what kind of cook I am." 
Paul Groves hated to cook but now, Lucy Paul enjoyed it and, with the 
assistance of the memories and skills laid down by Winston, I was a good 
cook.
I took the small plate of pasta and a green salad to the small table on the 
balcony and enjoyed my lunch there. A sea breeze ruffled my hair and, I must 
admit, I felt happier than I had for a while. Was I happy with my life? I 
could honestly say I was definitely happier as Lucy than I was as Paul. 
Paul's life had been narrow and, I could see now, insular. But I didn't know 
what would make me happy as a woman. Was it a meaningful career? Good 
friends? A good man and children? Strangely, the thought of me and a man no 
longer made me ill. In fact, an image of Neil's smile flashed before me and 
a strange warmth spread through me. This body, this female body, was taking 
over.
Suddenly, the phone started ringing and I dashed inside to answer it. First 
I had to find it. Thankfully, it kept ringing until I found the cordless 
phone on the bed-side table next to the large bed in my bedroom.
"Hello?" I said. My new voice sounded strange in the phone.
"Lucy, don't hang up. It's me, Barbara."  Images of last night and her dark 
eyes.
"What do you want?" I said coldly. "How did you get this number?" As a 
matter of fact, I wondered what the number was.
"I got it from Paul. Lucy, " she said hoarsely. "I'm so sorry I lied to 
you."
"I believe  you got what you wanted," I snapped.
"That prick!" she said. "Yes, " she rushed on, "I did but I didn't plan for 
us to be..."
"I thought we had become friends?" I brutally interrupted.
"We did. We are! Oh Lucy, I'm so sorry." There was a muffled noise and I 
realised she was crying.
I sat in silence, listening to her tears and felt sorry for her. The old 
Paul, and possibly the new one as well, would have sworn at Barbara, slammed 
the phone down and carried a grudge for life. Now, I realised that close 
friends were important.
"Barbara," I said softly.
"What?" she sniffled.
"I'm not angry with you any more."
"Oh Lucy," she said and promptly burst into tears again with a loud sobbing. 
Soothing her over the phone, I got her to at least stop sobbing.
"Barbara, it's okay. We're still friends. I think I understand why you did 
it but you did hurt me."
"I know, I know," she wailed and I thought she was going to start sobbing 
again so I quickly ran on.
"But friends are important and, at this stage in my life, I need a good 
friend and that's you."
"You're my only real friend, Lucy," Barbara sniffled. "Can we talk 
sometime?"
"Of course. Sometime soon."
"Okay," she snuffled and I heard her blow her nose. "Lucy?" she said after a 
moment.
"What?"
"Thanks." And she hung up.
As I put the used crockery and utensils in the dishwasher, I thought back 
over what Barbara had said. I was her only friend? Well, she was certainly 
my only close friend. Very close. I smiled as I remembered last night.
I freshened up with a shower and dressed in jeans, a blue and white striped 
sleeveless top and pink loafers. Slumped on the sofa, I flicked through the 
TV channels in an attempt to find something to watch. The sports programs 
didn't hold the interest they used to and I found myself enjoying an old 
Spencer Tracy and Katherine Hepburn movie, `Desk set' followed by a repeat 
of `The American President' with Michael Douglas. Michael J. Fox was as cute 
as ever. Restless, I freshened my make-up, brushed my hair, slung the strap 
to my bag over my shoulder and took the elevator down to the lobby. For 
about half and hour, I wandered around the beach area watching the families 
pack up for the day and the young lovers walking hand in hand by the water. 
I think I felt envious of them all.
"Hi," a deep voice said and Neil smiled at me, a little nervously. What's he 
got to be nervous about, I wondered. "Remember me?" he said.
"Of course," I smiled. "You're Neil the architect."
His smiled deepened and he sounded relieved. "I didn't want you to think I'm 
some kind of nut. Although," he added, "you're probably used to it."
I laughed. "Used to nuts? Whatever do you mean?"
"No, no," he quickly said. "That's not what I meant. I mean someone like 
you, as beautiful as you, is probably used to strange men trying to start a 
conversation." I looked at him quizzically. "Ah shit, "he muttered. "I'm 
digging a deeper hole, aren't I?"
I giggled. "Walk back with me?" I asked and he quickly moved next to me as I 
started walking back to the apartment. After a moment, I looked up at him as 
the sea breeze moved his hair across his forehead. "I love walking on the 
beach, don't you?" I asked.
"Yeah, I usually run on the beach in the morning. It's great."
"How long have you been in the States?" I asked.
"'Bout two months. I've only got another four months on my visa. I came here 
for some international experience after I graduated. My father had some 
contacts here, arranged a job for me. It's been great. Is this your first 
time?"
"No. But I'm seeing it differently this time," I said truthfully as we 
paused at the front door to the building.
Neil fumbled for his keys, then stopped and turned back. "Look," he rushed 
out, "I know it's early, I mean a girl like you probably eats late but, I 
was wondering," he stumbled. "There's a good little Italian restaurant 
around the corner. Cheap but good food. I mean, if you're not got plans, 
if..."
"That sounds wonderful," I said, putting him out of his misery. "Dutch 
treat, though, okay?"
"Sure," he said happily, taking my arm and escorting me back down the steps. 
The touch of his fingers on my bare skin made me tingle and I looked up at 
his deep eyes and full lips, wondering what it would be like to kiss him. 
And that thought no longer seemed strange to me.
We ate cheap pasta, drank cheap wine and talked for hours. Neil talked about 
Australia and his home in Melbourne, why he wanted to be an architect, his 
family and his dreams. Me? I listened. And avoided questions about England 
with a smile and a question abut him. It never failed. Men are so focused on 
themselves, even nice ones.
We split the bill, walked slowly back and took the elevator to my floor as 
Neil insisted on coming up.
"Goodnight", I said and he appeared nervous. He wants to kiss me, I realised 
and, suddenly, I was very frightened.
"Lucy," he stammered, "Tomorrow's Sunday. Would you like to, if you're not 
busy, go for a drive or something. It's okay if you've got plans or 
something," he stumbled on and it hit me like a sledge hammer. He was asking 
me out! A date!
"I don't want to be out late as I have a lot to prepare for my first day on 
the job," I rushed, suddenly very nervous.
"That's okay," he said red faced. "It was a silly idea, I know."  My god, I 
thought, he thinks I've said no. Well, I asked myself, do I want to say no?
I decided I didn't. "As long as we're back by say, three?"
His face shone. "You mean it?" I smiled and nodded. "I'll come by about 
eleven?" the smile faded again. "Lucy, I don't have a sports car or 
something, just a pick-up."
"I don't care what sort of car it is, Neil," I said softly and looked up 
into those big brown eyes. "I'll wear something casual, okay?"  he nodded 
slowly, looking like he had been struck dumb and, On an impulse, I stood on 
my toes and lightly kissed him on the cheek. My lips touched his warm, male 
face and tasted of him mixed with salt from the sea. Quickly, I unlocked my 
door and darted inside. He was still standing in the corridor, gently 
touching his cheek when I slowly started to close the door. "Goodnight, 
Neil," I said and he smiled.
I leaned back against the closed door and hugged myself. What a day.



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