Survivor Reborn (Kieran Grey Psionic Hunter)

by R. B. Fivecoat

Where am I? When did I fall asleep? More importantly, what happened to my clothes? The last thing I remember was climbing into the tilt-wing back at the lake. What happened?

  I looked around the sparsely decorated room searching for my missing clothes that were nowhere to be found. Everything in the room was either black or silver. The walls were open, showing the metal support beams in them. One wall was almost completely covered in mirrors. Steel twenty-foot-tall double doors stretched to the high ceiling on the far wall. This room looks more like a cargo hold than a bedroom. Other than the giant bed, the only other things in the room were a night stand with an oversized remote on it, and a large plasma screen TV. The room felt familiar, and strangely relaxing.

  The huge doors began to cycle noisily open, sliding along the open walls. Brighter light flooded in from the opening. A small figure came through the doors.

  “Good morning!” Emmy’s cheerful voice lightly echoed in the giant room. She crossed the room briskly, her high heels clicking with each step on the concrete. Just like the first time I’d met her, she was wearing a brown skirt and rust colored blouse under her lab coat with heels to match. In her arms she carried two hanging clothing bags and three shoe boxes. The doors closed behind her with a rumbling whine.

  “Modesty please, after all you are a lady now.” She sat down with her bags on the foot of the bed nodding her chin towards my chest.

  “Sorry Emmy. I woke up like this and just felt comfortable.” I pulled the silk sheet up to cover my breasts. “Besides, I didn’t see any clothes for me here.”

  Her smile widened. She was beaming, there was just no other word for it. She launched herself at me. The hug was so intense and unexpected I fell back on the bed with her on top of me. She kissed my cheek then let me back up.

  “Thank you! Thank you for still letting me have my baby sister. Or, at least a part of her. You’re a lot like she was really. Her good side anyway. Ever since she was a kid, I had to remind her to cover herself. I think she would’ve become a nudist if it weren’t for me.” After taking off her lab coat, she busied herself digging out the contents of the bags.

  “I’ve never had a brother or sister before. In fact, both of my parents died when I was young. I grew up in a foster home, and they didn’t exactly welcome me as part of the family.” Usually I never told anyone about my childhood. It was something I’d tried constantly to forget. But it still haunted me. I’d felt comfortable talking about personal things with Emmy. She was just easy to talk to. I still wanted to change the subject regardless, even though I’d brought it up. “What about . . . our, family?”

  Emmy never missed a beat when she answered, “Well, I’m your only sister, no brothers. Dad . . . Dad died when you were eight. As for Mother”–she stopped and stared off into space, then came back with a shake of her head–“well you haven’t really talked to her since Dad died. She is doing well though. She works at a local nursing home, and is quite happy. I usually go out to lunch with her every other week. It’s kind of a tradition with us.”

  “Do you think I should go with you sometime? I mean, is that something Kieran would do?”

  “Maybe someday. Mom still isn’t . . . uh, comfortable with you. You’re the only psionic in the family. Honestly, she’s a little afraid of your powers. Let’s focus on getting you adjusted first. Then if you want to meet Mom, I’ll see what I can do, okay?”

  “This is all still new to me. But, well, I’ve decided to accept that I am now Kieran Grey in all aspects of her former life. I mean, that is kind’a the point of me being here. At least until I find her killer anyway.”

  Emmy stopped to raise an eyebrow at me. “Marsala will be pleased you’re taking him back then. I’d assumed you wouldn’t be attracted to guys since you grew up as one.”

  My arms flew up waving as my head shook back and forth. “Wait, I didn’t mean that! I meant with you as my sister and work and such, not her boyfriends! I was not–no, I am not into guys! Marsala is cool and all, but I don’t see him sexually. I can’t. Christ, with your killer body you’re a hell of a lot more attractive to me than he’ll ever be–”

  I froze in mid-sentence not knowing what to do to smooth over that last statement.

  I think that I just stuck my foot in my mouth again. Clear to the knee.

  After what seemed to be an endless silence, Emmy started to laugh. She thought it was funny. I had figured she would be appalled or angry. I started to laugh with her. She was just infectious that way.

  “Too much information?” I asked when I could breathe again.

  “Yes, too much,” she agreed with me. “I’m flattered, but even if you weren’t my sister, I don’t swing that way. But feel free to find a girlfriend if you wish.”

  “You wouldn’t mind me–that is me as your sister–with a girlfriend?” I tried to keep the shock out of my voice. I hadn’t even thought of that.

  “When she was fourteen I caught Kieran and her best friend from girls gymnastics class naked in bed together, and obviously . . . busy. Ever since puberty she’s been bisexual. I used to go shopping with her and her girlfriends all the time. It won’t bother me if you take a female lover. Whatever will make you happy. Now let’s get you dressed. Some people are coming to meet you.” She went back to pulling clothes out of the bags again.

  “Let me shower first.” I worked my way to the edge of the bed.

  “Psionic or regular shower?” she asked without looking up.

  “Regular. I like to take a regular hot shower when I get up.” I started to get out of the bed, then sat back down holding the sheet around me. I couldn’t walk anywhere without being naked unless she gave me something to wear. I started to ask her for a robe.

  “The small door next to the TV leads to a bathroom. You can shower in there. Don’t worry about modesty with me now. I’ve seen you naked before. In fact I’ve even seen you having sex more than a few times as well, with both guys and gals, sometimes at the same time, and even in groups all at once.” She grinned slyly at me.

  I blushed with embarrassment at that last statement, afraid to ask where and with who. I sure am getting embarrassed a lot lately. Tossing the sheet away I scurried nude across the room to the door. Suddenly I was very conscious of each step I took. I closed the door behind me once inside the bathroom.

  The bathroom was plain, simple, and white. I’ve seen hotel bathrooms with more personality. White towels were folded on top of the toilet tank next to the plain white shower curtain. White, on white, on white, it was the only color in the room. In the shower I found a white dispenser built into the wall for shampoo and soap. The overly white room made me miss the silver and black bed.

  I turned the water on, letting it warm up. A good long hot shower sounded perfect right then. I stuck my hand into the running water to test the temperature. Nothing. My shields kept me from feeling the water. It ran off them as if I were wearing gloves. I’d gotten used to the feel of the world through the shields, but I wanted the feel of a real shower.

  “Emmy!” I called out. The door opened so fast that she had to have been standing just outside it.

  “Can’t feel the water through your shields can you?”

  Is she psychic now?

  “Step into the tub.” She kicked off her shoes, and started taking off her blouse. My eyes went wide. “Don’t get any ideas, Mr. Pervert! I just don’t want to get my blouse wet.” I couldn’t help but to stare at her chest, just an old guy reflex. She had great curves. In fact, she had more curves than I did up top. I had thought my breasts were big, but compared to hers, well, I couldn’t compete.

  I just got breasts yesterday, and already I’m suddenly jealous of her chest. Go figure.

  I stood naked under the running shower, completely dry. She turned me so that I was facing away from her. Her hands started to massage my shoulders and back. I could feel her hands through the shields pressing against me. It was familiar in a way.

  “Your shields are always active as a conditioned nat
ural response. You have to feel relaxed and safe for you to be able to turn your shields off. Sometimes I had to help Kieran relax so she could drop her shields, especially when she was younger.” She pressed harder.

  I felt more relaxed now. I could feel the shields around me. They began to dissolve away. The water started to drip through. Each drop brought a chill of excitement up my spine. Like someone flicked a switch, my shields fell. The water drenched me in a tickling warmth. For the first time since I awoke in this new body, I truly felt the touch of another. Emmy’s hands were like magic. I relaxed to the point of almost collapsing.

  “See? That’s all you have to do to shut down your shields. Now don’t stay in here too long,” she teased, winking at me when I looked at her over my shoulder. She grabbed her blouse and one of the towels then left, closing the door as she dried her hands.

  I let the warmth cascade around me. I hadn’t realized how disconnected from the world the shields had made me. I ran my hands up my arms. For the first time I could feel my own skin. It was so electrifying. The simple act of showering was something I had always taken for granted. The feeling of the water, the touch of my own skin, it all felt so wonderful.

  I poured some shampoo into my hand from the dispenser. Lathering my hair sent amazing waves of breathtaking pleasure through my body. It was like I had been deprived of the sense of touch all my life, and could finally feel everything at once for the first time. I rinsed out my hair reveling in the feel of the water running through it.

  After filling my hands with soap, I preceded to wash as I always had. Soap in hands, hands to armpits, rub. Nothing special about that. Then I ran my hands over my new chest. My soapy fingers caressing my nipples. The feeling was so intense, my knees started to give from under me. My god that feels good! I couldn’t believe it. When I was a guy, nipples were fun, but this was something else. I was kneeling under the water now.

  I used to be a guy until just a few days ago. Now I was a good-looking woman with a great body. A body that felt so alive under my own touch. I hadn’t thought about sex earlier when I’d agreed to the switch, not really. All my life I had been alone, not really a ladies man, so sex with another was such a rare thing it wasn’t that important to me. Now I had the chance to find out what it was really like for women. The question men had been pondering since the dawn of time. I let my hand drop below my waist.

  * * *

  I came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around me like I had seen women do in the movies, tied at the breasts instead of the waist like I used to do as a guy. My hair was still slightly damp. My cheeks were flushed, mostly from the great release I’d just experienced. The rest was from blushing. I knew that I hadn’t been exactly quiet during my “shower”.

  Emmy sat on the end of the bed all dressed and proper again. She was trying not to laugh by holding her hand over her mouth while she snickered at me.

  “Have fun?” She fought her laughter as she asked. I swear I turned at least two more shades of red. “Don’t be embarrassed, everyone does it. I just never knew you to be so . . . vocal before.” She finally gave in and started laughing openly.

  If it were possible to die from embarrassment, I must’ve had both feet in the grave.

  “I’m sorry. Honestly . . . sorry.” She forced herself to regain her composure. As soon as she was under control again, she lifted her arms to me. “Come here, I brought you a small wardrobe to choose from.”

  I crossed the room to meet her at the foot of the bed. There were at least five full outfits arranged across the bed. She hugged me from behind. Moving me to the side of the bed where she had laid out an assortment of underwear.

  “We’ll start from the skin and work out. Sit down.” She picked up a small makeup bag. “You’ll have to drop your shields around your face so that we can put on some makeup. I think the best thing about your shields is makeup. Once on, it never runs, never needs touching up, and never comes off until you are ready to take it off. No lipstick smears on glasses, running mascara, or anything like that.”

  I tried to relax my face. Seconds later I could feel the shields slowly melting away. She started with my eyes. Then she switched to a brush on my cheeks. Once satisfied she worked on my lips. I moved how she asked me to each time; open, close, look up, pucker, etc. There was so much involved in putting on makeup, I wondered why anyone would bother with it as a daily ritual. When Emmy finished she stood me up.

  “When you raise your shields, remember to accept the makeup as part of you. Otherwise it will be pushed off and we’ll have to start all over.” I stopped relaxing, which was easier than it sounded. My shields snapped back up instantly without trying. It was more like I had been fighting to keep them down, then when I quit fighting they were simply back up. Thankfully, the makeup stayed in place so we didn’t have to do it again. Emmy smiled again with approval, then turned me to the bed. “Everything is custom tailored to fit you. So, just choose what you like.” She swept her arm over the assortment of underwear. There were too many styles to choose from.

  “What would you wear?” I asked looking for a diplomatic way out of the decision.

  “It would be cheating for me to choose for you. It’s your body, and you’re the one that has to wear them. I will give you a hint though.” She grabbed three pairs of panties out of the stack, placing them to the side. “You always did find these three styles the most comfortable.”

  I looked at the smaller selection–thong, high cut double string bikini, and a low-rise hip-hugger boy-cut pair. They all seemed to be made from some type of deep purple satin or silk like the clothes I’d worn the day before. I picked up the thong pair. I wore a thong yesterday, why not today? Besides, it’s not like they’re really that uncomfortable or anything. The material felt soft like satin, yet heavier.

  “A sensible choice, this pair will allow you to wear anything without the usual unsightly panty-lines. The fabric is special. It’s spider-silk.”

  Instantly I dropped the underwear as if they’d burnt me, and gaped at her in disgust. I hated spiders. Really, really hated spiders. Everything about spiders crept me out, including the webs, regardless of their shape.

  She continued on, “The Archives has a number of rare species of animals in containment here. One such animal is the Steel Spider. It’s called that because the silk it spins is stronger than any known metal. Our research team figured out how to weave the silk into different forms of cloth.” She pinched the sleeve of her blouse. “This thin fabric is stronger than dozens of layers of the best Kevlar. This flimsy shirt alone has a Level IIIA ballistics rating. It’s also puncture and cut resistant, stopping almost every form of needle or knife. Not to mention that the fabric is also fireproof up to almost 2000 degrees Fahrenheit. You can’t really burn or melt it unless you specifically tried. Plus, no matter what you do to it, it’s stain resistant and wrinkle proof. It’s even machine washable if need be.

  “From the look on your face you must not like spiders, just like Kieran didn’t. I don’t blame you. But you will never find better clothing. All of both of our clothes are custom made from the silk. It can be woven to feel like any fabric. We even have some that feels and looks like leather.”

  “It must take a lot of spiders to make that much silk.” I shuddered at the thought.

  “Actually we only have five of them. They are rather large. Each one is about the size of a Volkswagen,” Emmy stated as if it were a common occurrence. The thought of them was beyond creepy.

  Time to change the subject.

  “Why do I need bulletproof clothing if I have bulletproof shields?” I asked like the question was obvious.

  “Do you remember returning to the Archives yesterday?” I shook my head no. “You passed out on the way back. Marsala brought you here and put you to bed. This is his room.” That explained the huge bed. But if this is his room, how does he use the bathroom? It would be absolutely tiny to him. He could never get in through the door, much less into the shower.


  “Your powers are strong, but you can easily overdo it. You become exhausted, suffering from violent migraine headaches. When you’re like that you are very vulnerable. Sometimes when you pass out your shields collapse, like last night. Otherwise, Marsala would never’ve been able to get you undressed. Don’t worry, he was a perfect gentleman. The clothing gives you an extra layer of security. Just in case your shields fail, you are not totally unprotected.”

  Ask a silly question–blah, blah, blah.

  Surrendering to my fate, I picked up the thong panties again. “So is there a secret to choosing a bra to match these, or do I just toss a coin?”

  Dressing like a woman is becoming complicated, and I have a feeling that it’s just going to get worse.

  Emmy picked up two bras in matching purple. One was solid, the other lacy.

  “Either of these would be good.” She held them out to me. I took the solid one. Emmy frowned ever so slightly. “Again the sensible choice, only this time comfort over fashion.”

  I dropped the towel, and pulled on the panties. For just a fraction of a second they stayed on the outside of my shields. Surprisingly the fabric seemed to melt into the shields and onto my skin. I hadn’t noticed that earlier.

  I guess that’s why my clothes never got wet. My shields must expand out over my clothes automatically. But why did the juice soak into my clothes, when the water didn’t? I had to ask.

  “Emmy, yesterday I got soaked by the juice at breakfast. But, later on I was completely dry underwater. Why did my clothes stay dry one time and not another?”

  “At breakfast you got distracted. You didn’t expect to get wet. When you fell into the lake you were concentrating and expecting to be wet. Your shields will protect you as well as your clothing, but you have to concentrate on it. If you hadn’t’ve been ready for the lake, you would’ve gotten your clothes soaked. But, if it ever happens, you can use your psionic shower to push away the water from your clothes instantly drying them.”

  I picked up the bra twisting it in my hands. I’d never even taken one off a girl before, much less ever tried to put one on.