<strong>Olivia Bernette - Agent 53 - The Grotesque Harlequin </strong><br/><br/>His hand was warm, but it sent a chill through her body. He seemed to be analyzing her, toying with her head and getting inside it. Normal torture would have been less effective, but the unexpected nature of what Enzo could do gave his words punch. His power had been demonstrated effectively, just not to the extremes he could take her.<br/><br/>She would kill him or die herself, it was her mission and her mission was her destiny. Only this mission had no time limit, now she knew why. If he believed she did not operate on a singularity of purpose, then that could only be to her benefit. Her body, now soft and frail, was far to weak to resist Enzo physically, she was like a doll he could manipulate by force. The power he returned her to gave her movement, but she was now a precious frail thing of poor physical ability. And in a few seconds, her muscles tensed and toned and she was back to what she was. Try as she may, she couldn't move, her synapses wouldn't fire against the temporary paralysis he could inflict. A contest of strength was meaningless against one who could manipulate the very structure and abilities of your body, Olivia knew this, only deception and a quick strick, possibly suicidal, would defeat an opponent like Enzo. For now, she regarded him no differently than as if she had been sent to strike down the evil one himself. But he had gotten in her head, she allowed herself a smirk of pride because she was beautiful and strong. It was something she had worked hard for and she was proud of it. This had been ingrained into her from the time she was little by all her instructors. There was a wrenching pain in her gut as he threatened to take it all away from her.<br/><br/>The thought almost made her lose a breath. He was a man wasn't he, that was his one weakness, he wouldn't simply take natural beauty and squander it. No, he must have simply meant her strength, she was certain he was referring only to her strength. Then she felt her face swelling, it was starting to look fatter. There was a wrenching in her gut as the corset felt tighter and the skin underneath the leather looked as if it was pushing out. She felt her arms get heavier as the paralysis gave way to fatty tissue that made her hands look stubbier than they should have been. The corset burst and her gut pressed out against the leather as folds of fat formed lines down her back and her butt rolled ever outwards, wide fat thighs and a wide fat ass pushed the leather.<br/><br/>She watched as wrinkles, pock marks, and discolorations spread like an infection across the surface of her skin. Her skin was flabby and uneven, like rolls of bubbly dough. Across her face the skin tightened as acne burst forth into into a collection of red lumps, drippy white heads, blackheads, and acne scars that made craters in her skin. Olivia could actually watch as her nose grew and hooked downwards, as her eye drooped, and as her once beautiful and long hair pulled into a short mangy comb over mess that looked like dried hay. Her stubby fingers clenched as she felt the pain of her teeth pulling together int jagged rows, the once healthy white enamel yellowing as if she had smoked and drank coffee for forty years without brushing.<br/><br/>Olivia was forced to look at the circus freak she had become. It was as if the fat lady at the circus was also the joker. She was a hideous harlequin. But she still had her inner beauty, that couldn't be taken from her... right. Was she fooling herself though, she killed without ever questioning why for masters she knew little about. That this hideous old hag she was might actually match who she really was more than the toned and athletic youth she had been minutes ago scared her more than anything, terrified her. To the point of laughter.<br/><br/>She still had a young voice, a resonating musical quality to her laughter that spoke of youth. Her laughter was explosive, her belly heaving and her imperfect teeth showing as her head went back a little bit. Olivia was in a fit of laughter, nervous and dreadful laughter as the tears ran down her face. Her legs shook, but she couldn't stop laughing. The beautiful timbre of her voice not at all matching the body it came from. Though she was now perfectly sure he could fix that and make her laugh coarse and grainy, her voice like that of a frog if he wanted to. She was glad her belly stretched over her sex, she didn't want to think of what that looked like now with leather pressed against it.<br/><br/>"I didn't know this kind of girl was your type?" Olivia said before bursting into a renewed fit of laughter.<br/><br/>Olivia wouldn't tell him what he asked but she wouldn't tell him the opposite. This was all so unhinged from her expectations she couldn't figure out how to cope. Fear, repulsion, amusement, horror, despair all seemed to meld into her fat acne pocked face as tears ran down her cheek. But she knew she didn't want to be like this, he was right, there was no way she could kill him unless she was completely sure of her ability to kill herself immediately afterwards. But was she was willing to die? Everything she thought she knew was so unclear to her now. So she simply continued laughing until she was sobbing.<br/><br/><br/><br/><br/>