The ineffective airflow through the small, ten by fourteen feet jail cell held the thick cloud of heavy cigar smoke within the bars as if the open areas between the bars were also solid walls. The foggy smoke, just as the cell's sole occupant, was retained within the small rectangle formed by the three walls and jail bars. The long- term, middle-aged prisoner lying on his back, was staring up at the semi-dark ceiling but his unfocused eyes weren't really seeing anything. Although it was only a couple of minutes past ten p.m., it was already the standard "lights out" time in the cellblock, but that rule applied only to the lights within the cells. The corridor just on the other side of the jail bars was brilliantly lit by the constant-on lights which threw enough light within the jail cell so that the vigilant guards could check on every prisoner's status every fifteen minutes - even during the sleep period. Death Row inmates required special and frequent attention. Only minutes before, the guard had loudly ordered "Smoking period's over - put them out!" then stood just outside this particular cell's bars, watching the slow responding prisoner take the last inhale, then slowly grind the cigar's lit end against the cement floor, extinguishing the cigar. Once the guard was satisfied that this prisoner had complied with the schedule, the guard then moved to the rest of the cells, one at a time verifying compliance with the rules. Finally satisfied with everyone's compliance, the guard ordered "Lights Out" then flipped the master light switch turning off the lights in each of the cells. The prisoner waited until he heard the guard's shoe clicks get fainter and the soft click of the office door shutting. Then he re-lit the cigar, knowing that he could smoke for another ten minutes before the guard would make his next series of rounds. If the guard questioned the still heavy cloud of smoke in the cell, the prisoner could blame it on the cell design. There weren't any air flow vents within any of the cells because of the very strict security. The prisoner frequently bent the prison rules, preferring to push the system even though it meant that he risked getting a punishment for violating the very strict system rules. But tonight, he really didn't care if the guards caught him smoking. Just five hours ago, the prison doctor had visited him in his cell, surrounded by two very protective burly guards. The doctor didn't waste any words - "You're dying." The doctor had discovered the rapidly spreading deadly cancer about three months earlier during a yearly physical; determining then that the prisoner had only about six months at the most to live. But the doctor didn't immediately inform the prisoner, not wishing to give the patient the bad news without going through the proper channels first. Per regulations, the doctor had decided to inform the prisoner's next-of-kin; a brother whose documented desire was to keep the severity of the illness secret from the prisoner as long as possible. But recent tests proved that the prisoner didn't have too much time left. The doctor's visit today was to inform the prisoner about the cancer, about how the deadly disease had spread throughout his body and to explain why he was feeling so sick most of the time. The current diagnosis was that the prisoner only had about two to six weeks left. Surprisingly the prisoner took the bad news quite well. He listened to the doctor, asked a couple of questions concerning the doctor's expected symptoms and the expected demise date; then lit up his cigar, ignoring the doctor, the guards, and the smoking rules as he thought about his very limited options. The doctor, recognizing that he was dismissed by the prisoner, walked out of the cell, followed by one of the two guards. The last guard stared at the prisoner, and mumbled "Sorry. Wish that there was something that I could do." then shut the heavy cell door. The tall, handsome guard, with sandy blonde hair, and blue eyes had a muscular body that showed he worked out frequently. He stood on the other side of the bars, hands behind his back in a position of attention as he evaluated the prisoner's mental state. For a moment, Officer Greg Mahoney stared at the man that he personally hated; but at this moment Greg felt a lot of pity for the condemned man. The prisoner raised his head so that he was staring back at the guard. A small tear was slowly working its way down the prisoner's cheek, toward the corner of the mouth where the big, round cigar protruded from his mouth. The guard's unusually low voice sounded distant as he softly said, "Today and today only, I won't enforce the smoking rules during my shift. Tomorrow, I've got to do my job." The prisoner's head nodded slightly acknowledging the guard's unexpected gift. Not bothering to remove the cigar from his lips, the prisoner mumbled something that sounded like "I refuse to die in this cage. Somehow, I'll find a way to escape my death just as I'll escape from this prison. Because of your personal concern about my welfare, I'm extremely grateful to you. I'll do what I can to ensure that those intermittent minor problems that you've been having, will cease occurring. Thank you." Officer Mahoney paused as he mentally debated his response. He had suspected that this man had been behind the recent spat of sabotage pranks at his trailer, but hadn't been able to prove it. That this prisoner had ordered one of his men to put the live rattlesnake in Mahoney's bed. That he had been behind the electrification of Mahoney's commode so that when Mahoney peed, the mild electrical current had traveled up the pee stream attacking his most sensitive area. Mahoney hadn't been able to prove it but he knew that those and other destructive pranks against him, had been ordered by the man that he was staring at - the man that had just received the news of his newest death sentence. Deciding that their feud was over, the young guard decided to forgive the man who'd caused him so much personal grief lately. Clearing his throat, Officer Mahoney asked, "Do you want me to request Social Services to bring your brother in to see you?" "No. My brother knew about this but didn't bother to come see me or tell me. I, John Augustus, will deal with my grave-robbing brother in my own way. Have my lawyer come see me!" ****** The tall, attractive, young redhead picked up a small bottle of scotch and looked at it as if she was reading the label through her sunglasses. She was actually looking beyond the label, identifying the mirrors that the cashier used to watch for shoplifters. Placing the bottle back on the shelf, she picked up a different brand bottle and changed her stance so that she could examine some of the other wall mounted mirrors while she pretended to read the bottle's label. Satisfied with her analysis of the mirror placement and the cashier's limited line of sight, she put the bottle back on the shelf and picked up two small bottles, quickly cradling them in her arm where her body blocked the cashier's observation through the overhead mirrors. Walking slowly around the end cap of one of the rows, she slipped one of the bottles into her open large purse, and closed her purse in one quick movement. Then she continued walking straight toward the cashier while still carrying the other bottle in the crook of her arm. She was clad completely in virginal white from her v-neck blouse to her white skirt, to her three-inch white heels. Knowing that the cashier was staring at her with an obvious personal interest, she confidently walked down the main aisle - her obviously bra-less breasts jiggling and her hips swaying to each step. She knew that she was a flirt and a tease with her indecently short skirt, exposed hose tops, and heels. The heels and short dress make her already tall body look taller and intimidating, so that she stood out when she was near other women. Stopping at the cashier counter, she pulled her shoulders back, thrusting her exposed, low cut cleavage out more prominently. She placed the bottle on the counter, smiled a radiant smile at the cashier, and asked in a sultry voice "I'm planning a party next week. How much is a case of this?" The cashier picked up the bottle, ran it through his scanner, glanced at the cash register's cost display, then punched some numbers into his calculator. Looking up from his calculator, he proclaimed "Pint bottles are eight dollars each, so a case will cost ninety-six dollars plus tax - about a hundred dollars or so. You can buy the same amount of whiskey in the larger liter bottles for about eighty-three dollars plus tax." She raised her eyebrows, pursed her lips as if to say "oho", then with her mouth still open, flicked her tongue out slightly to lightly touch her already glistening ruby-red lips; before returning her face to her `We both know that I'm beautiful' smile. She'd clearly learned how to flirt with men's fantasies, turning herself into a sensual glamour girl or coy seductress as needed. Using a practiced flourish, she slipped two fingers down the middle of her cleavage, pulling out a twenty-dollar bill as she pulled her shoulders back, resulting in her cleavage being displayed more readily. Holding the folded money between the tips of two manicured ruby-red long fingernails, she replied in a very sexy mummer "I'll come back when I'm ready for the party. Will you be here?" Her added emphasis of the word "you" wasn't ignored by the cashier. The cashier's eyes flitted from the twenty-dollar bill to the cleavage, to the woman's ruby-red lips, to the sunglass covered eyes, then back to the cleavage being prominently displayed for his enjoyment. Not lifting his eyes from her obviously firm chest, he stammered "I work weekends and most evenings." Using the grace of a Black Widow spider that's getting ready to devour her mate, the woman's lips pursed up as she simply replied "Really?" The man's obvious staring at her breasts stopped as he jerked himself back to reality. Turning his attention back to the cash register, he jerkily ran the liquor pint bottle through his scanner, dropped the bottle into a plain brown bag and punched some numbers on his cash register keyboard. Turning to stare at her again, he stated in a slightly shaky voice "I'm authorized to give a ten percent discount to special customers. With the discount, it's only seven dollars and sixty-two cents." Shaking her head in a laughing motion, as her mane of curly red hair floated around her beautiful face slightly before settling back down into a frame around her face, she laughed out loud as she held the money out to the cashier. Staring at her image in the mirror behind the cashier, she tossed her long hair back, licked her lips, then pursed her lips in a pout while observing her reflected image. Satisfied with her sexy woman image reflected in the mirror, she directed her attention to the cashier again, asking, "What's your name?" "Bob. My friends all call me Bob. My real name's Robert but I prefer Bob. You can call me Bob." he quickly stammered as he took the money from her slender fingers. She watched as the cash register flew open, revealing the full drawers of money, quickly estimating that there must be at least a thousand dollars in the drawer and it was only seven p.m. - by the midnight closing time, there should be at least two to three thousand dollars in the drawer. Turning her attention back to the cashier who was holding her change, she responded "Men named Bob are always so sexy. You can call me Andrea." She held her hand out for the money. As he handed it to her, he lightly rubbed his fingertips against her palm but she pretended that she didn't notice the suggestive touch. Dropping her change into the brown paper bag, she whispered "I'll be back to see you. Don't forget that I'm one of your good customers, Bob!" She picked up the bag and walked very seductively out the door, knowing that the high heels and tight skirt made her ass look very sexy. She walked outside and climbed behind the steering wheel of her new convertible - with temporary Virginia tags. Opening her purse, she pulled out the pint bottle that she'd just stolen, ignoring the exposed pistol in her still open purse. She opened the bottle and swallowed a mouthful of the liquor. As the dark liquor burned it's way down her sensitive throat, she lit a cigarette and stared at the liquor store; knowing that she could've robbed him so easily. Only problem was that he definitely would remember her; and would easily be able to pick her out of a Washington DC police lineup. In the old days, she wouldn't have played with him. She would've just burst in, pointed the gun at him, emptied the cash drawer and ran out. If the cashier resisted - well, that's why she'd originally been sentenced to Death Row. In the old days, the cashier wouldn't have re-acted to her the way that Bob just did. The cashier would've looked at his new "customer" very suspicious, his hand never far from the alarm and hidden gun. That's because in the old days, Andrea wasn't a sexy, beautiful tall woman, with tight form-fitting clothes and a seductive 'let's fuck' personality. In the old days, she was a male convict named Robert Williams who just happened to spend several years on Death Row in the cell adjacent to John Augustus' cell. Four weeks ago, Robert Williams became Andrea Bell permanently - twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. Thanks to John Augustus and his money. Prior to sharing adjacent cells in the same prison's Death Row, they were both criminals but at different "social and managerial" levels. John Augustus was a rich and powerful gang boss who was given the death penalty for ordering several people's death while Bob Williams was a petty liquor store robber who went too far on a couple of botched robberies. John schemed, ordered and planned illegal acts while Bob committed unplanned robberies under the influence of booze. They knew each other only because they were placed in adjoining cells on Death Row. Bob wasn't the sort of person that John would've associated with on the outside world, but under the tight and restrictive security of Death Row, they became best friends. Two very dissimilar men who could talk and joke with each other, supporting each other as they both waited for their individual dates to sit in the electric chair. Unwilling to accept his court-decided fate, Augustus used his still powerful outside influence to have a Chinese magician's grandson kidnapped by his former gang. He used the grandson's life to convince the magician to invoke some ancient centuries old Chinese rituals - rituals that would cumulate in a body exchange. It wouldn't be a complete body exchange - more of a transfer because it only went one way - a person's soul, memory, and personality could be moved into another person's body. John would escape the electric chair by transferring into someone else's body. The transfer had some very severe limitations. It could only be into a female host body, the female host body had to be chosen by the evening stars position using obscure astrological calculations, the departed client body - the transferee - would die when the exchange became permanent, and it took over three weeks to complete the exchange. When the female host body was in the geographic location specified by a complex mathematical formula based upon the star's position, and the location of the transferee, the exchange could be started. When the stars were in the right position, the transferee had to take some of the Chinaman's herbs. Then that night, the transfer would start. During the first sleep cycle, the transferee would assume control of the host body for one hour before returning to their original body. Every day, the transferee could stay one more hour in the host body, until the twentieth-four day when the transfer would become permanent. Augustus wanted the transfer for himself, but after discovering the limitations of winding up in a female body and not really trusting the Chinaman's somewhat unwilling participation, he became a little nervous. So he wanted a test. Using his next-cell friend as a guinea pig, Augustus tested the Chinaman's magic on Bob Williams. Williams leaped at the opportunity to cheat death, not caring that he would soon be a woman. Williams had been in and out of prisons all his life, learning the hard way as a young boy in reform school that prisons have their own social pecking order and means to obtain sexual relief. In his teenage years, the slender boy had quickly became another reform school prisoner's girlfriend, learning to service his new mate who protected Bob from other prisoners who wanted the same thing - Bob's tight ass and warm mouth. Bob's boyfriend quickly taught Bob to pretend to be the female gender when Bob was in his presence; and to personally enjoy the new role expected of him. After that first time behind bars, Bob used that reform school experience to make his subsequent jailhouse visits more pleasurable for him. So, living the rest of someone else's life as a woman wasn't that much of a psychological problem for Williams. Bob Williams lucked out in his body exchange. Her name was Andrea Bell. Andrea was a painter - an artist who had rented a remote farm house in the Virginia mountains, little realizing that the house was at the location specified by the star's position. And that she was destined to be the host to someone that would take over her body. She took a year's lease on the house and moved into it, putting away the very professional clothes that she normally wore. Her appearance had always been very prim and proper, from her pulled back hair bun, to her choice of clothes that hid her shapely body behind clothes that a minister's wife would approve of. She wore plain glasses in public because she liked the way the glasses toned down her facial shape - making her seem less beautiful and less attractive to those horny men that kept leering at her. She wore a phony wedding ring to also keep men from hitting on her. Although she had a pretty face, and a shapely body, Andrea did everything she could to hide her attractiveness. The first couple of days in the house, Andrea was befriended by some near-by neighbors - a retired couple named Ralph and Martha Emerson. Andrea reminded them of their married daughter and Andrea was reminded by them of her distant family. Then the transfer started - increasing the length of time that Williams was in control of her body by one hour per day. Williams would go to sleep in his cell and wake up in Andrea's body in her bed at the farm. When his daily transfer time into her body was finished for the day, Andrea's body would fall asleep again and the real Andrea would resume control of her body when she woke up while Bob would wake up in his incarcerated male body. At first Andrea thought that she was masturbating in her sleep because her body would be tender with obvious signs of masturbation when she would wake up. Then she thought that she was sleep-walking because she would wake up in the morning with her lips coated with fresh lipstick, her short plain fingernails coated with fingernail polish; and the farmhouse doors that had been locked from the inside were unlocked. The real kicker came when she woke up in her car - but she'd fell asleep hours earlier in her bed. The car was parked on the side of the road a couple of miles from the farm. She was fully dressed, her car engine was warm and there were fresh cigarette butts in the ashtray, coated with the same color lipstick that was on her lips. And she didn't smoke. Confused by what was going on, she fled to the Emerson's house, querying them about the potential of poltergeists in the old farmhouse. Too terrified to go back home that night, she stayed with the old couple, going to sleep in their daughter's empty bedroom. Because he suffered from insomnia and couldn't sleep that night, Ralph observed a different Andrea - or at least there was something very different about her - as she entered his kitchen later that night. This was a different Andrea with more changes than just her Utah accent being replaced by a very real Brooklyn accent. This was an Andrea that smoked, drank whisky straight from the bottle, lightly flirted with the old man, and wasn't terrified any more. Glancing at her watch as if she had to be somewhere that late at night and ignoring his recommendations, this Andrea drove back to her farmhouse in the middle of the night. Ralph visited the farmhouse the next day to discover several strange men hanging around the farmhouse, guarding Andrea or the person that he knew as Andrea. Ralph didn't know it, but these were men that Augustus' gangster brother provided to keep the host body from running away before the exchange was completed. They were led by a man called Big Al, who looked and acted like the typical stereotyped gangster. They were as out of place on a rural Virginia farm as a fisherman wearing a suit. Every day as Bob's time in Andrea's body increased so that Bob was in control longer during the daylight hours, Ralph kept seeing the different Andrea rather than the girl that he had originally met. This new Andrea was a woman that liked to wear tube tops, tight skirts, and changed her overall appearance and personality so that she looked like a slut. During the times that Bob wasn't strutting around in her body, the real Andrea would wake up in her bed, discovering that she was still a prisoner of Big Al and his men. She suspected that they were fucking her while she slept - the dried cum and bruises all over her body were the clues; but she really didn't know what was occurring to her while she "slept" more and more each day. During one free period when she was allowed to roam the upper floors of her farmhouse, she hid some video cameras in her bedroom and bathroom, recording a video of herself - or the person that she called her alter ego - being a very willing participant in fucking one of the guards. Terrified at seeing her own body acting so wantonly, she tried to escape but they captured her and kept her tied to the bed from then on. As punishment, the walls beside her bed were covered with photographs of Andrea's body - taken when her alter ego was in control of her body - willing fucking and sucking every one of the guards. Some of the pictures showed her engaged in sex with one guard at a time while in other pictures, her three orifices were the recipients of group sex. There was one picture positioned so that she could clearly see the details where her naked body was bouncing up and down on a man's cock while her hand directing a stream of pumping cum from another man's cock onto her grinning cum-coated face. Just the thought of her lips touching a man's cock was enough to make her gag, much less to know that her alter ego frequently participated in those debaucheries. She managed to escape into the woods once but when her body refused to go any further and went to sleep, her alter ego returned her to her prison. Then on the last day when the real Andrea only had one more hour to exist, the new Andrea taped a video message to the real Andrea, telling her what was occurring to her. When the real Andrea fell into her last sleep, Williams's body died in prison as Williams assumed permanent control of Andrea's body and identity. After turning the deceased body of Robert Williams over to a mortuary managed by a Chinese family, the prison doctor closed the file on Williams and his weird fatal sleep disorder. The Chinese mortuary secretly moved the dead man's body to Virginia and used their mystical powers to capture the deceased woman's spirit into the dead man's body, unbeknownst to either Augustus or Williams. The old Chinaman had methods to keep the real Andrea's spirit from disappearing forever. The new Andrea went wild, spending the old Andrea's money to change her appearance, getting away from the original Andrea's prim and proper look to a new wild and sexy look. The new Andrea immediately threw away the old Andrea's "schoolmarm" wardrobe, then bought new clothes that showed off her body curves, and changed her hair color and hairstyle to display a more modern sultry appearance. While she still looked slutty, she was a beautiful slut. With Augustus' lawyer's assistance, the new Andrea Bell visited Augustus in prison once, showing her new body and appearance to her benefactor. Seeing his former cellmate in a new body proved to John that the old man's magic worked and that he could escape his rapidly approaching execution. The new Andrea discovered that she was an extremely horny woman and couldn't get enough sex. She enjoyed her new female appearance and used every cosmetic and clothing trick to make herself look more attractive. After the bodyguard's left the farmhouse, she spent her nights in bars, picking up men to take back to her city hotel room, enjoying the difference that a pussy and boobs made in her new life. The farmhouse that Andrea vacated after the exchange, was cleaned by the Chinese owners and rented to a young woman named Candice Morgan. A woman that didn't know the fate of the previous occupant or the fate destined for her. Candice or Candy as her friends knew her. She was a young, gorgeous, tanned, tall, green-eyed blonde, with an well-endowed, slim, curvaceous 38-24-36 body. A woman that looked like she belonged on one of those television shows where everyone wears nothing but bathing suits all the time. A woman with the type of body and natural looks that would cause men to turn around and watch her as she walked by. A body and face that caused women to be jealous because her beauty was so easy and natural. A woman that truly deserved to be nicknamed Candy. She was married to Mickey Morgan- the lucky bastard - who was finishing up his last job out-of-state and would soon be joining her at the farm. ****** Hanging on Augustus' wall was the calendar with the dates that John was using to determine the progress of his transfer. Using the dates given him by the Chinese man, John had marked the calendar in different colors. Day's one through twenty-four were the days that Williams made his exchange. Days twenty-five through fifty-three were the four weeks that Williams had spent in his new female body. Today was day fifty-four. Days fifty-four through eighty-four were the thirty days that John still had to wait, before the conditions were right for him to begin his exchange into his future body. Day eighty-five being the first day that the transfer could start because of the position of the stars. Days eighty-five through one hundred and nine were the twenty-four days that it would take for him to complete his transfer - if he lived that long. Hanging on the wall beside the calendar, were three photographs of Candice, all taken when she wasn't aware that she was being photographed. One was a full-length shot as she walked across a shopping center parking lot, showing how fantastic she looked even in casual clothes. Another photograph showed her stupendous body wearing nothing but a skimpy bikini as she watered the flowers around the privacy of the farmhouse. And the third, was a close-up photograph of her beautiful face - smiling as Candice talked to one of the town shopkeepers. With her centerfold body, thick, pouty lips and big, innocent looking expressive emerald-green eyes, she had a youthful body that just screamed "fuck me!" John glanced down at his hand, seeing the blotchy pale skin from three years of being behind bars, and the sagging flesh from his recent weight loss. Staring at her face again, he tried to imagine what he would look like when he was in control of her body. He know that he wouldn't wear all those ruffles and skimpy clothes. Rather he pictured himself projecting a stronger image when he took over her body. An image of her dressed as a black leather dominatrix flitted through his imagination, causing him to groan and sit down heavily on his cot. Her totally feminine and sex kitten body wasn't the body that Augustus wanted for himself. He really wanted his old Peter Lorre type body, only his old body's deteriorating health was unacceptable. If he was going to exchange bodies, he wanted a Cary Grant, John Wayne or Arnold Schwarznegger type body - a very rugged masculine body. But as he told himself - when you're a beggar, you take what you can get. As someone formerly high up in the mob social structure, he could easily buy all the pussy that he wanted back then. Or they would give it to him just because of who he was - a powerful and rich gang boss. His time in a pussy-less prison was always under the tight confines of the death row, so he'd never experienced sex with a man - except for the one convict that gave him a quick blowjob before John wound up under the tighter security on Death Row. Augustus wasn't looking forward to becoming a woman. His desire was to be pardoned, to walk away from the prison, and find a little farmhouse where he could retire - someplace where he or his brother's criminal exploits weren't known. A place where he could grow his vegetables and sit around the local diner drinking coffee with his neighbors. A place where he was free to enjoy the last few years of his life, safe from the gangster revenge that took so many of his predecessors.