The Sculptor Ch. 02

Finally, I dress Zoe as she had been before and place her back at the door of the bar, which Erika is still holding open for her. I raise an eyebrow at Erika. She could probably use some supplies. I venture out to the nearest sex shop -- seven blocks' walk total, not too bad comparatively -- pick her up some girly, fuzzy handcuffs and a bullet vibe, and stick them in her purse. I scrawl a small note for her on sketching paper: "Mission accomplished. Have deposited strategic equipment in your purse. Rec you use it. Have fun. Don't forget gag! ;)" I chuckle as I tuck the note into her palm and return to my seat. I wish I could be a fly on the wall for what comes next. Luckily I can. But not until it's over.

EPILOGUE: ONE LAST EXPERIMENT

In the meantime, I have one more experiment to run. I still haven't been able to settle the question of whether I changed Zoe's past or just her memories. I already know that's what Erika's going to ask about next, so I might as well beat her to it.

I amble back over to the bar and find myself a likely test subject. Hannah Rosen, age 25. She is in the middle of laughing at someone's joke. It looks like a good laugh. Her head is thrown back in delight, a few of her brown curls still airborne. Adorable. More to the point, though, she has a lovely pair of nice big boobs hidden under an extremely heavy sweater. Too warm for the lovely autumn night outside given that she has also brought a jacket, and far too warm for the interior of the crowded bar. It is very soft, but still, she must be roasting in that thing. That's why I'm here.

On any other night, I'd just take the sweater off of her, go out and find her a better top somewhere, and put it on her. Her mind would take care of the rest. But that wouldn't answer my question.

I sculpt her just a little, as a thanks-for-playing consolation gift, but I don't take long to do it. I give her the standard upgrade package, and I slim her down some, but that's all. My purpose here is something else. I press her head to mine and rifle through the memories of her day until I find the moment she got dressed to go out.

I am browsing through my closet, picking out tonight's outfit and talking to Annie on the phone about Dina's new boyfriend... Yep, that's the one. Hannah is really into her phone call and barely even paying attention to her choice of shirt, which would explain a lot. I focus and shift my consciousness out of her body, just to get a good look at her. Hannah is in her underwear, makeup and hair already done, her phone held between her head and shoulder to have both hands free.

She reaches out and picks up the sweater, and I hurry back into her head. This is my moment to intervene.

"No, not a sweater," I tell her. "It's not cold enough for that just yet." She puts it back, simple as that, and considers an off-white blouse instead. Mission accomplished.

That turned out to be incredibly easy, so I decide to push my luck a little. "Not that blouse either. Too much of an old-lady look. Maybe let the girls out a little? Gonna have some fun tonight!" She giggles and picks out a lacy camisole top with a very low neckline. "Perfect! That's the one!" She sweeps it over to her bed and lays it out, nodding and mm-hm-ing along to whatever her friend is saying on the phone. Personally, I haven't been listening.

I'm on a roll, so I throw in one last suggestion: "Maybe you should ditch the underwear. Nothing under your clothes. Your dirty little secret. Think about it." Hannah hesitates, glancing at herself in the mirror, in her extremely nondescript bra and panties. She doesn't know it, but even if she does wear those out, I'm never going to let her wear them home.

"Come on, live a little," I urge her. "Give it a shot. Just for tonight. It'll be fun! Nobody has to know." She bites her lip and shakes her head at her reflection in mild disbelief, but she's smiling. I close the trap: "Unless you want someone to know..." She giggles again, asks Annie to repeat the last thing she said, and reaches back to pop free the latch on her bra. Her big tits bounce fetchingly as she plucks it off her body, and she casually flicks her panties to the ground and steps clear of them. Leaving the underwear forgotten on the floor, she goes back to her closet to pick out a pair of pants.

Back in the bar, I can't hold back my grin as I give Hannah a big kiss on the forehead. Brave girl. I lean forward again and whisper in her ear: "Going commando is tons of fun and you love it. You don't think you'll ever wear a bra again." She won't need to anyway, given what I've done to her boobs. Talking to women while time is frozen never seemed to accomplish anything when I've tried it in the past, but now that I can change their minds in Recall, who knows? Maybe it'll work now. Trying certainly doesn't cost me anything.

Finally, it's time for the moment of truth. I look down at the pile of Hannah's clothes I've stacked up on the bar next to her.

Sure enough, her sweater has been replaced with the lacy camisole, and her underwear is nowhere to be found. Well, I'll be a son of a bitch. I changed the past.