[Enzo's Clinic]<br/><br/>Dr. Enzo Xantelli sat in the comfortable antique armchair, savoring the last chapter of<em>Dreams of My Russian Summers</em>in the original French. There were many benefits to having returned to the Island: a fair climate, beautiful beaches, staggering wealth and godlike personal power. On the other hand, the library, though extensive, was not infinite. Occasional personal shipments from the mainland kept him supplied in literature, but he had to discipline himself to not finish them too quickly, lest he be left with a dearth of intellectual stimulation until the next boat arrived. At one point Richard had given him an electronic device that held thousands of books, with the potential to fill it with even more through the computer. It sat on a shelf somewhere in the crowded basement, untouched. A book without paper was like a picture of a sunset; it might be evocative of the real thing, but it was hardly a substitute.<br/><br/>A discreet cough from the doorway caught his attention. He finished the paragraph he was reading before looking up. Nurse Aliya leaned cautiously through the threshold, careful not to fully cross from the waiting room into his office. She was a beautiful woman, now, with pale skin and generous curves. The same couldn't be said when she had come to work for him. He had chosen the islander for her intelligence and her desperation, not for physical attributes which could be assigned later. She knew nothing of medicine, but that was irrelevant here -- it was a curious sort of clinic overall, with no obvious medical equipment, no patient records, not even a pile of expired magazines in the waiting area. Nurse Aliya still wore an almost stereotypical and outdated nurse's outfit, all starched white cotton complete with cap. But that was for his benefit.<br/><br/>"Doctor Enzo, sir. Excuse me for interrupting. There are no more patients scheduled for the day. Would it be permissible for me to leave early? It is my... our anniversary tonight. I wanted to prepare a special dinner for Rodrigo." Her pensive look spoke plainly to him. Though he had employed her for almost two years now, she was still not immune to his sometimes mercurial temper.<br/><br/>Now, though, he merely wanted the distraction of her presence removed. He waved his hand casually, dismissing her. "Fine, fine. I'll see you in the morning." He returned to his book.<br/><br/>Another light cough. He looked up, now more irritated at the continued interruption. She bowed slightly to him, and in an even softer voice said, "Dr. Enzo, sir. If it would please you. For tonight... may I have my legs?"<br/><br/>Enzo straightened in his chair, turning toward her. Ah, that was right. An experiment in progress. Through the open doorway he could see Nurse Aliya's lower half, the emerald serpentine coils in constant wriggling motion. Thirty feet of them, if he recalled correctly. She had been dutifully keeping a journal, describing the difficulties involved with locomotion as he fine-tuned the design each day. It had been most instructive, but it was true that he had learned most of what he wanted to know.<br/><br/>He turned his attention toward her, bringing the force of the Power to mind. Effortlessly it flowed forth, engulfing Aliya in an invisible grasp. He felt rather than saw every cell of her altered body, seeing them interact in a mysterious dance that mainland doctors could observe but never truly appreciate. Not as he could. He brought to mind her original form and as he did the body before him seemed to melt and reshape itself. The long snake like body contracted, bifurcated, and cast off its scaly skin in favor of her original milky complexion. A pair of shapely legs were formed, and at the point of their joining her womanhood was restored. With a thought Enzo tripled the nerve density around her labia and clitoris while raising both the woman's capacity and desire for thunderous orgasms. When he was satisfied with the physical modifications a white miniskirt came into existence, wrapped tightly around Aliya's eye-catching derriere.<br/><br/>Rodrigo should send him a card, he thought. Hell, Rodrigo should send him his firstborn.<br/><br/>"Go," he barked, but not unkindly. She was a good servant; he wouldn't want to have to replace her. Besides, tomorrow he had thoughts of experimenting with an insectile lower half. Or perhaps a scorpion.<br/><br/>