<strong>Enzo's Clinic</strong><br/><br/>She was a slight thing, Enzo thought. The sort that he might dismiss out of hand as unsuitable building material. Yet as she sat there in her painfully tight transparent dress, the tears finally having ceased, one thing struck him. Despite what must now be an almost incapacitating headache coupled with the chill of the grave spreading through her deadening limbs, the young girl had no so much as opened a single button on her dress. He could smell the alcohol clearly from where he stood. To her it must be nearly overpowering. In the conflict between her urge for self-preservation and her desire for modesty, though, the latter had won the day.<br/><br/>Despite himself, Enzo was somewhat impressed. "Good girl," he muttered mostly to himself.<br/><br/>In moments the pain had grown too great for her stoicism to withstand. She shrieked, clutching her forehead before doubling over in agony. Enzo watched each second pass dispassionately, until the experience overwhelmed her mortal senses and she passed out entirely. At his mental command the operating table melded and stretched to catch her limp body before it could hit the floor.<br/><br/>"There now, Kiara. I'll wager you didn't think she had it in her. I daresay I think this one might have potential, despite her behavior." He moved alongside the now sleeping woman and smoothed the hair away from her face. A work of art in its own way, though one he was quite able to reproduce. He memorized her features with his eyes and fingertips. "I think perhaps I would like to observe this one in a less controlled setting for a time. It will require a few changes, however. I believe this dress has served its purpose, for example."<br/><br/>The clothing vanished, leaving Melody lying naked before him. His power passed through her, more carefully and thoroughly than he had done at the Manor. The spontaneous changes that had been wrought on her were reversed or refined, and others added. He worked methodically, with the eye of an artist, until he was satisfied with the results. The operation took perhaps half an hour.<br/><br/>In the end, Melody appeared from the outside much as she had when she was first healed by Marco on the beach. Her breasts were slightly larger, her hips a bit more pronounced, her lips a tad fuller. Subtle changes, robbing her overall appearance of its flawless innocence while replacing it with an unspecified subtly wanton air. Those who met her would not be able to cite any feature in particular, but the overall effect would give them a definite impression of sexuality.<br/><br/>This was important, as the human mind often needed visual stimuli upon which to hang its impressions. For Melody was also now an unwilling and unconscious source of human sexual pheromones. Invisible, with no detectable scent, these chemicals would nonetheless serve to heighten the sex drive of any person, male or female, who had the good fortune to be within four feet of Melody for more than a few minutes. Longer if outside on a breezy day. It was a trick of human psychology that once aroused the subject would often fixate on whatever visual stimulus was currently most present. Special organs under Melody's underarms would produce these pheromones continuously, ramping up production if the girl were herself sexually aroused.<br/><br/>Enzo left the modifications to her genitalia intact. Beneath the impenetrable shield her clitoris would continue to be stimulated, with increasing vibrations if the girl were subject to any form of stress. Which seemed an exceedingly likely proposition.<br/><br/>The whole formed an elegant feedback loop, Enzo thought. She would arouse others, leading to stressful situations that would stimulate her own libido, leading to an increase in her ability to chemically stimulate others. All leading, in greatest likelihood, to frustration for all parties concerned when her sculpted shortcomings were discovered.<br/><br/>A day or so should prove an adequate testbed. Enzo summoned slaves to carry her to the Island's hotel, renting a room in her name, stocked with clothing in her size. She would awake on the bed in a few hours with memory of her experiences, but no direct knowledge of her latest modifications. He instructed the slaves to observe her from a distance; he would be very interested in their report.<br/><br/>Turning to his sister he raised his glass. "A toast, dear sister. To Power."<br/><br/>