Femme fatale

She taps a finger to her chin, clearly thinking her answer over. Then she tells you. “Femme fatale.”

That was definitely not what you were expecting. A character stereotype from detective stories? “A-are you sure?” you ask her. “I mean, this thing can do anything.”

She looks annoyed that you’re even asking. “Finn, of course I’m sure.” She pauses for a second, before realizing she’ll have to share her reasoning with you if she wants to have it on her. “I’ve always liked characters like that. They’re the ultimate in confidence, y’know? So I thought it would be nice to be one, just for a little bit. It would help me get over things.” Put like that, you can understand her reasoning.

With no reason not to do that, you write ‘Femme Fatale’ carefully on her arm, then cap the marker and pocket it, just in case she tries to grab it. It’s interesting watching someone besides you and your girlfriend change.

What’s weird about this transformation is that she doesn’t really change that much. You think she gets a little bustier, maybe a little more thin, but it’s other areas that are affected significantly. For one, how she’s dressed. The semi-casual clothes she has on now shift and meld into some kind of coat-dress-jacket, like something from the 1930’s, all in red. It matches the color of her high heels, which are now on her feet, and the ruby lipstick on her lips.

The biggest change is nothing physical. It’s just the look in her eyes. How she holds herself. How she talks. “Well, well, well,” Olivia says, looking down at her changed body. “Seems you really are skilled with your hands, Finn.” There’s a sexual purr to her words that only adds to the innuendo. “Maybe you’d like to see your handiwork...first-hand?”

As long as you’ve known her, Olivia has not been interested in you for even a second, as far as you can tell. Still, she is pretty damn sexy like this. You look at Stacey, and she’s smiling at you. “I’m not going to stop you. Hell, I might want to join in.” The idea does sound like fun...but considering what kind of person you just made her, maybe being **** and fucking her isn’t the best idea in the world.