Elise Olisbos (c) 2013 | email: eliseolisbos@yahoo.com
website: http://www.asstr.org/~Elise_Olisbos/
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------------------------------

Title: Binate Undercover (Chapter 2)
Author: Elise Olisbos
Keywords/Codes: futanari/dickgirl, teen, fantasy/sci-fi
Summary: In a world where magic has returned, a cop goes
undercover to investigate mysterious kidnappings.

**Chapter 2 - Covert Thaumaturgy**

Helaine stepped out of the tired-looking townhouse which Sandy
shared with two other whores, looking up at the slate-coloured
sky, the constantly present clouds always hovering overhead. She
adjusted her coat and pressed the collar flat, so that her badge
was clearly displayed. The car was parked right at the gate and
she caught the reflection of herself in the driver's-side window
as she keyed open the door. Tall, with a narrow face that some
people called 'hard' and lots of dark hair, Helaine still got
appreciative looks for her curvy body, apparent even under the
shapeless fall of her coat.

She glanced up as she started the car, spotting Sandy as the
succubus leaned out of the upstairs window, arms resting on the
sill. Sandy blew her a kiss, and Helaine rolled her eyes.

As she drove off, heading to the agency, her thoughts turned her
own 'people'; when magic began to return to Earth so many years
ago, the fairy-tales stepped back into reality, and the binate
existed again: merpeople, centaurs, fauns, even minotaurs. These
were the purest form of the two-natured, separate species
existing in one form. Then, there were those like Helaine LeFay,
who were completely human, but still embodying two essences: male
and female in one body. Helaine had the questionable fortune of
being the known oldest of her particular kind.

Nowadays, those of the Binate nation tended to keep to one
section of the sprawling Kharon City: Fairlie and Callium in the
northeast, two communities that were increasingly harder to
police as more of the Nation sought refuge from the undercurrent
of suspicion and dislike from the Singulars...normal folk.

Recently, there had been a rash of kidnappings with very specific
targets: teenaged Binates with forms similar to Helaine's had
been taken from the streets of Fairlie district. The last one had
been snatched in broad daylight, and the reports were that the
vehicle had been a fairly new model transit, grey with dark
tinted windows. No one had managed to get the numbers on the
license plate, and Helaine suspected some kind of obscuring charm
had been in play.

Helaine parked in her usual spot at the Callium-Fairlie Division
of the National Security Bureau. She exchanged quick nods with
the desk-agent on duty, going straight on back to the wide
offices which held a number of cubicles. Two of these stations
were assigned to herself and Dillon.

Dillon Montez's stocky form was slumped in his chair, an unlit
cigarette hanging from one corner of his mouth. As usual, he
looked as if hadn't shaved in months, an almost permanent shadow
of a beard haunting the square lines of his jaw. His gaze seemed
absently tired as he glanced up at Helaine.

"Hey, you're finally here." He got to his feet and stretched,
grunting at the slight cracking in his back. He was far shorter
than his partner, as were most people. When Helaine loomed over
him, scowling, he blinked up at her. "What?"

"I hope you're not planning on smoking that," Helaine said,
keeping her voice low and her temper down as much as she could.
It was a close thing, though.

"I'm not," Dillon snapped."I just had the fucking thing in my
mouth."

"What, giving it a blowjob? Take it out!" Helaine reached out to
pluck it from between his lips but he batted her hand away.
"Dil--"

"Agent LeFay, Agent Montez." Captain Barton, this division's
supervising agent, called out loudly from his doorway, big hooves
clopping on the hard concrete floors. He was taller than Helaine
and quite thin. He had to bend a little to glare at them more
effectively through the doorway. His lush tail, which didn't
quite fit his spare torso, twitched in what Helaine recognised as
aggravation. "My office, the two of you."

Helaine threw Dillon another hard look, but Dillon shrugged it
off. He tossed the cigarette before they got inside Captain
Barton's office, so Helaine offered him a quick smile as they sat
down in front of the captain's desk. Barton was too big for a
regular chair, and so he sat heavily on an untidy pile of
cushions in front of his desk. He took a few moments to eye them
over a spread of large photographs across the polished wooden
surface. Helaine sat down, glancing at each of the teenagers'
images. They seemed so young.

"Selene Rice. Albertin Knoll. Kim Lu Shu. Veron Clarke. Bridge
Stevens, and Nessy Williams." Captain Barton pointed at each
picture with a bony finger. "As of now, still missing. We haven't
been able to fix onto their locations by scrying."

Helaine nodded. Most of them seemed to be female-identified
Binates like herself, with the exception of Kim and Bridge.
Selene had been the first to be taken and despite the heightened
panic in this section of the city, the other five had been
snatched almost too easily. Alerts had been broadcasted, even
into Normal territory like Utter and Roses Mile, but few Normals
cared about the plight of binates, anyway, unless they had magic
that was deemed 'useful'. Dillon was one of the few Normals who
worked in the region; he always claimed that Normals were
probably scared.

"Dillon got a lead from Gelhart," she said and Dillon nodded.
Captain Barton's worried gaze shifted to Dillon, who nodded and
leaned forward.

"Whoever's doing this, they're real careful," Dillon said.
"Gelhart says they mostly likely have mages at the level of
disconnected consciousness pushing their magic, which means our
scrying ain't gonna do shit."

Captain Barton swore under his breath, and then steepled his
fingers, tapping his nose with them contemplatively.

"If we can't scry," he said, very slowly. "Then we need to send
someone undercover."

"That would be me," Helaine said, holding her head straight even
as Dillon turned to stare at her. Captain Barton's smile was
tired.

"Yeah, Lain. You."


+


"You know that it should be me going undercover," Dillon said as
he and Helaine exited the elevator on to the fifth basement
level, striding down a wide corridor. They headed towards wide
double-doors at the end; above them, thick black lettering read
COVERT THAUMATURGY.

Helaine snorted at Dillon's declaration, dismissively. "As what,
some kind of dealer, or client? Dil, you know the closest you
should go to any undercover op these days is the surveillance
van. Leave it to the pros." She splayed a hand across her chest
and adopted a smug expression. "Besides, your body doesn't
generate enough magic to keep a glamour from slipping off."

Dillon glared up at her and then wrinkled his nose. "Who says we
need a glamour?" he muttered, and Helaine rolled her eyes at his
grumpiness.

They shoved open the doors together into a room with an intricate
domed ceiling, segmented like an orange. An obvious structural
impossibility at this floor, but this was Covert Thaumaturgy.
They were met by a petite satyress who seemed a little
uncomfortable in her fitted white cloak. She wore nothing
underneath, and the inner curves of her small tits provided an
appealing view. Helaine eyed the point at which thick black fur
began at the satyress's waist. The elaborate curls of horns above
the satyress's head indicated that she was older than she seemed.

"I'm Agent Gina of Sandra and Jim," the satyress said in a
high-pitched, piping voice. Helaine smiled down at her;
satyresses and satyrs didn't have last names, not the way most
cultures did. To concede with the processes of records-keeping,
they usually gave their parents' names as surnames. Helaine knew
a Robert of Alina and Thomas, and a Vicky of Brent and Nola. When
using titles, they preferred to use the first parent's name
given, usually that of their mother, which was why Helaine said,
"Nice to meet you, Agent Sandra."

The satyress offered a soft smile. "I prefer Agent Gina," she
corrected gently and then firmed her expression into
business-like lines once more. "Agents, I've reviewed the file
from Captain Barton. I must indicate that no glamour can be
utilized on any agent on this operation."

Helaine frowned. "Why not? We've used them before!"

Gina shook her head. "If the kidnappers have mages at
disconnected consciousness, they'll pick up on a glamour
easily...any concealing spell, in fact."

Helaine could feel the force of Dillon's scowl, even though she
wasn't looking at his direction. "What other solutions we have?"
he asked, very gruffly.

"I'll have to de-age Agent LeFay's body, while keeping her
current memories intact."

Helaine nodded in comprehension. "Then there'll be no ongoing
glamour."

"And no need to renew it," Dillon added. "It's safe, right? You
won't go too far, mess up her head or her body?"

Helaine hid an indulgent smile, as Gina hurriedly reassured her
partner. "It's safe, Agent Montez. It was part of my final year
presentation at the Academy. I gave a practical exposition on--"

"We'll take your word for it," Dillon cut in, sharp but not
unkind. "We have to get started."

"Clothes off, Agent LeFay," Gina said briskly. She didn't seem
offended by Dillon's brusqueness, and Helaine liked that. A lot
of folks didn't understand him, was all. "Remove all metals from
your person: weaponry, jewellery...especially amulets, we can't
have other magicks jumping in the mix."

"Got it." Helaine removed her gun-holster, and hiked up a
pants'-leg to retrieve two knives strapped to her left thigh and
her right calf, before stripping off her clothes with a complete
lack of shame. She handed over everything to Dillon, who went a
shade redder with every item she stacked in his hands. When she
finally deposited her bra and panties at the top of the pile, he
snapped, "Is that everything, then?" and set the lot on the
nearest desk.

Helaine laughed out loud, not pausing when Gina indicated that
she should lie down on a very large slab in the middle of the
domed room.

"All the way on your back," Gina said. Obediently, Helaine lay
flat on the slab, wriggling about and not really finding a
comfortable spot. "Agent Montez, if you're going to stay in here,
you'll need to take off all your metal and magicked items as
well."

"Sure," Dillon's tone was very easy, but Helaine knew he had been
working himself up into arguing with Gina if she had planned to
throw him out. She closed her eyes and listened to the soft
clinking sounds of Dillon removing his weapons and his amulet.
His wife had given him one of Loiolakoa, the patron saint of
warriors and soldiers. Helaine had admired the round amber shape,
within which the fierce form of the saint was frozen in detailed
relief: robes fluttering in an unseen breeze, so much so that the
face was obscured, one arm free to hold up a very long sword.

"What are the side effects?" Helaine asked after Gina instructed
Dillon to place all their items into a heavy wooden box and carry
it out of the room. Gina looked at her with eyes the same shade
as the amber of Dillon's amulet.

"You might lose quite a bit of your natural strength, and a
little of your innate magical ability," Gina said, her tone
thoughtful. "What are your ranks?"

"Amazon-9, for strength." Helaine tried not to sound too
boastful, but she was at the upper levels of strength; there were
very few persons in the division who were past Amazon-9. "And the
highest I've ever gotten out of a magic test was Level 5 Focal
Point."

Gina nodded slowly at that. In terms of magical ability, most
Normals had no ranking. The level above 'none' was 'focal point',
an individual or animal who had the ability to anchor spells and
charms to one place; an important capacity, but one that wasn't
always necessary. 'Familiars' were the next step up the ladder,
those with the ability to assist in implementing spells.
'Intuits', like Sandy, could be powerful, but their use of magic
was based on instinct, activated largely for survival.

Mages, the highest and final level, were strong enough to
manipulate magic in a direct manner. Helaine, despite the fact
that her physical strength was based on a very high internal
store of magic, could not control magical elements. She might
have more magic in her than, say, a Level 3 Mage, but she simply
could not govern it. It gave her that impressive amount of
strength, helped her heal very quickly, and certain spells were
more effective when used around her...but that was really about
it.

Gina said, "Well, you might drop to an Amazon-6," and Helaine
sighed, heavily. She hadn't been a 6 in years. "And, to correlate
that, maybe a 2 in Focal Point. But I can't be sure right now."

"Well, we do what we have to do." Helaine gave her a wide smile,
and made sure to encompass Dillon as he strode back into the
room. His expression was very closed as Gina lightly touched the
materials she had required for this very delicate spell, a
collection of odd items like a small branch, and a watch that
didn't seem to work. Then, she held both hands palms-up. All of
the objects floated up to the level of her hands, humming in
anticipation.

"Ready?" Gina waited for Helaine to give her an affirmative nod.
A glow sharpened the lines of her small fingers, and traveled
past her wrists and up her arms. "Good. Relax. This...might hurt
a little."


+


Shit, Helaine thought and swallowed past the dryness in her
throat. For a moment there, she'd felt as if her skin had been
pulled off and turned over before being sewn back onto her bones.
The spell had gone on for longer than she thought it would have.
At one point, she had clutched the surface of the slab so hard
that she was sure her short nails had dug into the hard surface,
leaving a row of half-moon shapes.

"You okay there, Lain?" Dillon asked. Helaine had shut her eyes
tightly early on in the proceedings, because the light coming
from Gina's hands had been too much to bear. "Want some water?"

"Yes," she answered and blinked her eyes open at the higher
timbre of her voice. She struggled to sit up, but the room seemed
to whirl around her.

"Easy." Gina's voice was very soothing as she helped Helaine
upright; her palm was very warm and firm at the middle of
Helaine's back. "Just give it a moment, LeFay. The residual
effects of the localised time-distortion should wear off in a few
minutes."

"Feels like a transit distorted my whole body," Helaine groaned.
She blinked as Dillon held a tall glass with a brightly coloured
straw, putting it near her lips so she didn't have to hold it.
She sipped, slowly. "Thanks."

"Take a look," Dillon said, and Helaine wriggled off the slab.
Gina snapped her fingers and a narrow mirror materialised against
the nearest wall. Helaine peered at her changed body, shaking her
head in wry amusement.

The mature curves of her body were gone, as was that slight sag
and fatty padding at her stomach and thighs that had been the
mark of aging. Her large tits had diminished back to the size
over which she had despaired the most as a teenager: small and
firm, with large, brown areolas and pointed little nipples. Her
cock, now hanging limp between her slim legs, was smaller and
more slender than the size she was now used to, and her pussy
lips not as apparent, not proudly flared as they were now. Her
hair was once again the long curls she had only learned to
properly tame in her twenties; at least her skin was still a
clear brown. She would have been pissed if she'd gone all spotty.

Hands on her hips, she turned from one side to the other,
wrinkling her nose. On a nearby counter, Agent Gina and Dillon
rummaged through a small suitcase. Now and again, one or the
other of them would hold up an article of clothing and stare at
it consideringly. Finished with her self-inspection, Helaine
wandered over to them, and picked up a pair of boots with a
translucent finish.

She wrinkled her nose. "Fashion is so weird these days."

"Josey from Unit Seven got some tips from his daughters," Dillon
said, laughing a little and then coughing. He ignored Helaine's
sudden frown. "I guess I'm lucky that my Billie isn't at the age
for this crap as yet."

"Your daughter?" Agent Gina asked, eyebrows lifted in query. She
smiled at Dillon's nod. "Give her a few years."

Between the three of them, they managed to work out something
that wouldn't look odd on a teenager: a dress with puffy sleeves
which apparently had charms woven into it that made it fit her
quite snugly around her chest and torso, before it billowed out
from her waist to her knees. The dress shimmered from one
bubblegum shade to another, another interesting use of magic.
Helaine refused to wear the plastic-like boots, but picked a more
serviceable pair of flat sandals made of the same element. Agent
Gina advised a pair of leggings in a shade of blue so electric
that Helaine feared she would get a shock.

"There you go," Agent Gina said, stepping back after handing
Helaine a ridiculous parasol, which had little pouches hanging to
the sides when opened, for carrying whatever kids carried. "Very
amarillo."

"Huh?" Helaine frowned playfully at her and Gina grinned. Her
teeth were small, even and gleamed white.

"I have a kid brother," Agent Gina explained. "'Amarillo' is what
they're saying nowadays for whatever's fashionable, or nice,
or...they use it all the time, I guess."

"Right." Helaine hoisted her stupid parasol and twirled it over
her shoulder. Dillon was looking as if he was trying hard not to
laugh. "This is all so amarillo."


------------------------------

email: eliseolisbos@yahoo.com
website: http://www.asstr.org/~Elise_Olisbos/
Please leave my e-mail address attached if you archive this or
share it with a friend.