Once again, Gerlinde became refined to an existence of symphony and scalpel work.<br/><br/>The two were indivisible.  Her mind would flow along the fine chord of a nerve while muscle sagged in thundering readiness around it, guiding that chord with blade and pincer to its proper place.  And once its lean sustain was connected, she would move to the next.  Around each joining, she affixed stitches and nanoguide spray, until the tail was at last fastened.  The symphony came to its climax with a final shove of the needle, a snip of the thread, a final circle of synth-skin applied to the slightest of seams.<br/><br/>Gerlinde set aside her tools and began to gather others:  Fresh gloves.  Antiseptic swab.  The anesthetic mask.<br/><br/>Things were quiet.  Even in her head.  There was no reflection and no wonder.  Only anticipation, mild and long like a pearl bridge.  Her penis had settled along with the ache in her breasts and pussy, leaving only the butterflies in her belly to gently wave the moments away.<br/><br/>The quiet was that of a symphony between movements.  She walked over to Lisle kitty's head to begin conducting the next.<br/><br/>Gerlinde's hand swept over Lisle kitty's warm pate.  The other positioned the mask near to her face, showing it to Lisle puss.<br/><br/>"I am going to put you under now,"  Gerlinde explained, rubbing the silky line of Lisle pussy's jaw with a curled finger and lifting her face to hers.  "When you wake, you will be all mended.  You will still be tired, though, and so I will just give you some ice chips and you will go back to sleep.  When you wake the second time, you will be back in a warm place."<br/><br/>"Any questions before you sleep?"  Gerlinde inquired, ready to apply the mask.  Anticipation spread sweetly in her heart.