I was about to do a repeat of my earlier stammer, but Tiffany put her slim finger to my lips. The finger was cool and soft. My eyes crossed as I tried to get a good look at it. Tiffany smiled with her sweet, kissa-ble, Cupids'-bow sable lips and took ahold of my lapels. Then she pulled me into her dressing room.

The room was like Tiffany. It was all in black and white and there wasn't a straight line anywhere. Every wall, piece of furniture, and accessory seemed to flow gently into whatever was next to it. That and the fact there didn't seem to be any shadows made the whole thing fairly disorienting.

"What'sa matter, honey, the room too much for your Real mind?" She reached up and patted me on the cheek. "Let Tiffany fix."

Abruptly everything seemed to run together. One moment I was looking at curves, and the next, the room looked like any other. I staggered to a chair, hoping it wouldn't talk to me, and grabbed hold of it.

"First time?" Tiffany purred as she moved over to me and rested her hand on my chest.

"Yeah, what happened to the room?" Reality didn't seem to be playing by the usual rules, and I was trying to figure out the new ones before the next game.

"Ooh, a virgin!" Tiffany pushed me down onto a couch that might not have been there a moment before. "Let me try to explain, sweet pants."

Tiffany straddled my lap. My first thought was that she didn't weigh as much as I had expected. My next thought went into a whole new area as she moved around to make herself comfortable. I opened my mouth to ask a question that had become very important.

"Excuse me, Miss ..."

"Call me Tiffany. And I'll call you sugar pants."

"Excuse me, Tiffany, but I wondered if you had ... I mean . . . can you ... do you have . . .?" How to ask this question tactfully?

"Oh, aren't you just the cutest little Real. You want to know if I have a p.u.s.s.y?"

"Well, it's just that when I've seen Animates in the movies, they don't seem to have any privates. I mean most of them don't even wear pants or anything."

"Baby, does it feel like there's nothing down there?"

I had to admit that right then there was absolutely no question in my mind at all that she was all woman. In fact, I got the strangest sensation that she could unzip my trousers without using her hands. She ground down on me with her hips, and I thought it was going to be all over before it even started.

"There, I like that. Now, what was I saying?" I might have been able to help her out with the question, but she did a little move and my train of thought got completely derailed. "Oh yes, I remember now. What happened to the room and do Animates have goodies?

"I'm an Animate and that means I can pretty much do what I want."

"Well, yeah, you're a star." I had to say something or this session was going to be over real quick.

"Yes I am. That's good. Move a little more like that. But that's not what I mean. I mean I can control the way things look around me, and when the need arises, I can have enough goodies for everyone."

The mind can only handle so much information at once, and my brain was slightly south of my belt buckle. Tiffany saw I wasn't paying attention to what she was saying, so she did something to refocus my thoughts.

She leaned forward and her chest began to inflate. She had a nice little set on her before, but now! They kept growing until I was engulfed in the biggest t.i.ts I have ever seen. Soft, white, and so light, you almost expected them to float her off the couch like a couple of helium balloons.

"Begin to understand, lover? I can change how I look, what I'm wearing, and the room around me, just by thinking." The t.i.ts resumed their normal dimensions.

What followed was amazing. I know I've said that a lot, but there isn't any other way to describe it. Tiffany went through a barrage of changes. She was taller, slimmer, blonder, more curves, less curves, better curves. The outfit changed from a minidress to a formal gown, to a period piece out of some swashbuckler, to a swimsuit, and for a couple of glorious seconds ... it was gone altogether.

All the time she was doing this, she was rocking up and down on my lap till I began to change shape tooa"I was getting harder and stiffen She grinned at me, and the couch was suddenly a very big bed.

"Now, honey, why are you here?"

"Morrie sent me over to see if there was anything you needed." I was very proud that I could still put two words together.

"Morrie is such a nice man." Tiffany reached down and the b.u.t.tons of my shirt got all of her attention.

I needed something to think about and I didn't like baseball. "What's the story with the little guy on the door?"

She stopped undoing b.u.t.tons (by that time she had worked down to the pants) and looked at me with big black eyes. "Jealous already?"

"No, I was just wondering if you two . . . ?"

"You don't know much about us Animates, do you?"

"I've been around." I hadn't, but I wasn't going to admit it.

"Then you should know that there is nothing like s.e.x between two of us. We can be anything and do anything, and we never get tired."

"But he was such a little guy."

"Didn't anyone ever tell you size doesn't matter?"

"Once, but I think he just felt inadequate in the shower."

"Well, to an Animate it doesn't matter at all. Twink can do more with his five little points than you can with your one." With that she reached between her legs and gave my "one" a friendly little squeeze. "Now, let's see what you can do."

The bed gave a small shudder and I noticed, barely, that it was changing again. It now was a bit more severe and I saw what looked to be handcuffs hanging off one post. Tiffany smiled down at me and once more her chest expanded. This time the dress didn't and her b.r.e.a.s.t.s exploded out of confinement, so very white, though the nipples were black and tasted a little like ink. I bit down and she moaned. "Come on, lover, you can play rougher than that." I reached up and grabbed her other t.i.t and squeezed hard.

She retaliated by grinding down with her hips. I shifted my grip and caught hold of her hips. Still wearing some of my clothes, I thrust up at her. Tiffany yelled and her dress shifted to a bra with nipple cutouts and garter belt and stockings. I could feel the heat between her legs. All I wanted now was to get out of my shorts and slip into something more comfortablea"her.

I reached down to tug off the last article of clothing that kept me from entering paradise. Tiffany caught my hands, and with surprising strength forced them back to the bed. The cute little face shifted and the new one was a bit slimmer and definitely s.e.xier.

"Not so fast." She bounced up and down a couple of times and a groan escaped my lips. "You're not an Animate. Once you explode, you're no good to little Tiffany."

I tried to grab her shoulders and roll her under me, but she wasn't having any of it. Her strength was all out of proportion to her size, and I was easily outcla.s.sed.

"Oh, you want to try another position?" Her features flowed around her face and suddenly I was looking at a face that looked very doglike. She had a little snout and her hairstyle was now dog ears, but you could still see Tiffany's features. My mouth dropped open and she bent down and licked my nose with a tongue like sandpaper.

"How about . . . doggy style?" Tiffany threw her head back and did a sort of barking laugh. The features shifted into a caricature of an African native. "Or maybe . . . missionary?"

The changes were playing havoc with my l.u.s.t, and part of me began to wilt. It was not a pleasant look that crossed the face above me. "You better not be going soft on me, or I'll try something you might not like."

My imagination stalled at the threat, but it didn't help the little pointer. Tiffany saw the problem and the next change was much more human; in fact, it was the best look yet. Her raven black hair grew longer till it covered her face and t.i.ts. Once more I had lead in the pencil and she was a happy Animate.

"Look who's back." She slid down my legs, and the shorts went south for the winter. I, or at least part of me, sprang to attention. She peered through all the black hair and began little nibbling kisses at my toes and moved upward toward my exclamation mark.

I was thrashing like mad and trying to get ahold of her. I didn't want to wait another second. All I wanted was to be inside her and ride off into the sunset. Trouble was, I just couldn't get ahold of anything. She'd shake me off, or what I grabbed flowed between my fingers and left me empty-handed.

"Please," I said in a very strained voice, "Tiffany, hurry up or I'm going to die."

"Relax, you can't die from blue b.a.l.l.s." She stopped torturing me for a minute and looked at me quizzically. "Do you think we Animates will ever come in colors like you Reals?"

I screamed and grabbed her. This time she stayed solid and I thrust her down on the mattress. Her legs flew open and my arrow went right into the bull's-eye. I don't know if she was fooling with reality or if it was just me, but rockets went off, there were fireworks, and for some reason, I could picture a train hurtling into a dark tunnel. It was earthshaking and over in an eternity; at least it felt like that to me.

The earth spun for a while, and when it stopped I was lying on my back gasping for air. Tiffany ran a hand over my chest and I shivered happily. I reached over to her and noticed that while I was covered in sweat, she was still dry as a bone. Inky black eyes gazed down at me and I drifted toward sleep. She shook me.

"Don't doze off on me, b.o.o.bsie. That was great, but not nearly enough." She slid her hand between my legs and fondled the victim of hit-and-run s.e.x.

"You're too much, Tiffany. Let me rest a little bit and I'll spring back for you." I started to flop down on the bed, but I hit my head on a hard surface. I turned around and saw the mattress was gone, and we were now on a wooden table.

"I said, I'm still h.o.r.n.y. I'm h.o.r.n.y now, and I don't feel like waiting for some limp-d.i.c.ked Real to recover." Her edges looked harder and her face was becom-ing more severe.

"I want to, but I can't work miracles." I started to slide off the table, but she pinned me down. The handcuffs were back and ready to be used. Down at the end of the table was another pair. I figured this had to be the weirdness that Mack had warned me about. But I was wronga"this was a walk in the park compared to what was about to happen.

"Please, I have to go now." I tried to shake loose again, but no luck.

"Too late, sweetie, you've already come . . . too early to go. If you can't satisfy one way, then I guess you'll just have to be flexible."

Struggling wasn't doing me any good. She had a tight grip on my wrists and a leg over my waist to hold me down. s.e.x had retreated a long way from my mind, and fear was banging on the door to get in. Then she started to change again.

Her face stayed the same, but her body was flowing into new formations. The shoulders got broader, arms thickened, and there seemed to be more than two. I could feel her legs changing, and not for the better. It felt like she had coa.r.s.e fur, and something like a claw scratched me.

It was then that I felt ita"between her legs it was still hot, but now there was a bunch of writhing things growing down there.

I struggled upright to see what I already knew. The face was still the Kewpie doll I had just had s.e.x with, but the body wasn't even remotely human anymore. My eyes popped open, and if I'd been an Animate, they would have rolled out onto the floor. Tiffany had parts I'd never seen anywhere before, and they were growing larger by the second.

"Like I said, if you can't get me off one way .. . I'll have do something else to get my kicks."

She let go of one wrist to reach for a set of handcuffs. I screamed and thrashed with all my might and bucked her/it off of me. I hit the floor running toward the door. The room whirled and the exit now looked about a mile away.

"Give it up, sweetie. You're not going anywhere. Just relax. h.e.l.l, you might even enjoy it more than the last one did." A chair stuck a leg out to trip me, and a lamp cord slithered across the floor like a snake.

I just kept running and eventually got to the door. Out of breath and too terrified to look back at what might be gaining on me, I grabbed for the doork.n.o.b, but it slid across the surface of the door and out of my grasp.

"k.n.o.bby, don't you dare let him out of here till I'm through with him." The Tiffany creature was up and the room reverted to normal dimensions. It started toward me and its appendages almost reached to its chest. They were very white, very thick, and very, very frightening.

"Please," I said to the doork.n.o.b, "let me out."

It made a face and slid to the other side of the door. "No way, buddy. I want to watch this."

"Pervert!" I clutched at it again and missed. Behind me I heard Tiffany moving slowly and deliberately toward me. There was a weighty thump at each step and a sound like something heavy dragging behind it. My mind raced and an idea came to me.

I looked up at the door and cried, "What a set of knockers!"

k.n.o.bby, the doork.n.o.b, stopped sliding all over the place and tried to look up to see what door knockers I was talking about. While he was distracted, I grabbed the k.n.o.b and wrenched the door open. Then I ran like a thief into the hallway.

Behind me I heard a scream of pain from k.n.o.bby and one of rage and frustration from Tiffany. Both were music to my ears.

I ran onto the lot buck naked and didn't stop till I reached my apartment, where I threw my things in a bag and caught the next train out of Hollywoodland. Didn't care where I was going, just so long as it was far away from anyplace that had Animates.

That was years ago. I settled back East in a boring, but safe and sane job. I married a nice girl who doesn't change shape when we make love, at least not any more than anyone else does.

We've been married for years and we have three great kids. I'm lucky; the three boys think I'm just about the best dad in the whole world. We do everything together; well. . . almost everything.

Even though it's been more years than I can count, there are just some things I'm never going to be able to do with them. I'm never going to take them to an Animated movie and I'm never going to be able to explain to them why I get the shakes every Sat.u.r.day morning when they turn on the television.

And now there is a new horrora"cable. All those channels, all those choices. And hidden somewhere among them, lurking, waiting for me ... I know she's out there.

Maybe I can get my kids interested in reading.

HANDYMAN.

Jeff Gelb.

Rob Parvis overheard snippets of their conversation from three barstools down, and decided to move closer. As he edged past the other men and women seated around the bar, he was thankful for its no-smoking rule. It kept the bar from becoming too noisy or crowded, and seemed to bring in a better clientele. His kind of clientele: attractive, single, h.o.r.n.y women.

He placed his Cabernet on the gla.s.s countertop, which was lit from beneath by neon, giving nearby patrons unusual flesh hues. The women he was spying on were both attractive. The shorter one was a dirty blonde with a tomato face, a cute smile, and small b.r.e.a.s.t.s, dressed in a conservative white silk blouse and drawstring pants. The taller one next to her was a brunette with a strong chinline, thin eyebrows, which he disliked, and who also, he noted, had small b.r.e.a.s.t.s, concealed under a leotard top tucked into blue jeans. He dubbed them the Itty Bitty t.i.ttie Committee as he leaned closer to hear more.

"I haven't been laid in years," the blonde complained. "But it's so scary out there these days, I just can't see picking up just any guy. I'm going crazy!"

"What do you mean, 'going'?" Her friend laughed.

The blonde ignored her. "You're better off married, Vickie, even if you're not getting along with Jack right now."

Her friend answered, something Rob couldn't hear, and then they both laughed. Rob waited till the laughter died down before handing the blonde his business card.

"What's this?" she asked, straining as she read it aloud by the room's dim light. " 'The Handymana" Your s.e.xual Stand-In. No money, no diseases, no questions. One hundred percent satisfaction.'" She looked at the card for a moment and burst out laughing.

"You're kidding, right?" she managed between chuckles. "Sounds too good to be true."

"What an opening line!" the brunette said, clucking her tongue in obvious disapproval.

But the blonde extended her hand to him, noticing his perfectly polished nails. "Christine Kent," she announced. "You must have heard me complaining. I guess I should be embarra.s.sed, but f.u.c.k it, it's just so depressing these days, you know?"

"Chris!" Vickie was surprised by her friend's candor with this stranger. "Either you two know each other, or you have had too much to drink, girl!"

"Neither," Rob said, making sure they had to lean in closer to him to catch his words. Baiting the hook, he thought, using his best radio voice to snag their attention. "I couldn't help overhearing Christine's complaint, and I decided to offer her my services."

Vickie shook her head. "Sorry, Charlie, we're not looking for a gigolo. Nice try, though."

Chris placed a hand on her friend's shoulder. "Speak for yourself," she said. "Your card says no money." She checked the card again and smiled as she spoke his name: "Rob, Is that false advertising?"

He smiled. "Not at all. You might just say I'm a good Samaritan, offering my unique services to a select group of people like yourself."

Vickie interrupted. "Chris, you don't know anything about this guy."

"And he doesn't know anything about me."