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Elena Turboth had everything she'd ever wanted.  A fast car, a large apartment, everything.  Of course, she'd gotten it by means sometimes left uninvestigated.  She was an escort but also many other things.  It was amazing what one could find out about the rich and famous when they were out of uniform (as it were).  The French have a saying that translates roughly “When a Man's Fly is Down, so is His Guard”.

She was absolutely sure none of them would ever touch her.  After all, she had way too much on them and could, with a quick message on her computer, release very damning evidence to police, lovers, wives, or anyone else she could think of.  It came as a real shock when a dark coloured car drove up beside her, rolled down its window and fired a dart into her thigh.  She'd get whoever it was responsible -- famous last words.

She came to in a sterile and very tiny hotel style room.  Her hip and upper arm both stung from injections.  The thigh she could understand but not the arm.  She was on the floor, her dress all stained and rumpled.  Though not the finest hotel, it did have good facilities and she spent the better part of the next hour cleaning herself and making herself presentable again.  All the while she was vowing to settle accounts with whoever was responsible for this outrage.

"All right, whoever you are!" she shouted at the walls.  I have had enough."

There was no response.  She strutted her way to the door only to find it securely locked and no way to open it from inside the room.  Clearly she'd been kidnapped.  She wasn't sure by whom but it didn't matter. She'd show  them.  She’d show them all!  They'd made the mistake of leaving her a computer!  Quickly getting on, she tried to get to her eMail to fire off the information dump she'd arranged for just such a situation. Unavailable! She tried a backup eMail, her cloud storage, anything.  Nothing -- absolutely nothing -- was  available.  Only stupid (and somewhat dated) entertainment channel recordings.  This was a positive affront to her  dignity.  No one could do this and get away with it.  She began to pace like a caged beast.  She wasn't one for violence but frustration drove her.  Picking up a chair, she threw it at the glass wall of the room.  It bounced back.  Nothing she could do would even scratch it. She found where they'd stashed her oversized purse.  It held several secret compartments.  One of which held glass cutters.  A second one concealed a small pistol.  Surely one or the other would break glass.  Alas, whoever  had dumped her here and done a most thorough job of pilfering her purse.  None of the secret compartments held  anything any longer.

A click behind her told her something had come through the wall slot by the table.  A food tray.  But not any kind  of food she’d deign to eat.  This cafeteria swill was something that had not passed her lips in years.  She  snarled and threw the tray’s contents against a wall.

“Whoever you are!  You get me some real food.  I won’t eat this crap.”
“Then,” came a calm voice.  “You won’t eat.”  

There was a click that told her the connection had been severed. Well, that was an interesting turn of affairs.  Her kidnapper or maybe it was kidnappers didn’t much care one way
or the other about her health.  That told her far more than she wanted to know.  Likely, she would never get back  to her apartment.  This had been a one way ride.  But why dump her here if she had no chance of being rescued?  Maybe she could reason with them, offer them money, whatever. She made as many offers as she could think of over the next few hours but there was no response whatever.  No one was listening or her offers just weren’t good enough.  She wondered which of her extremely rich clients had paid  to have her removed from the scene. By evening, she was extremely hungry and decided that the food on the tray, disgusting as it was, would have to  do.  She couldn’t afford to collapse and miss a chance to catch one of them should they ever enter this room. She watched the lousy entertainment for a few hours before bed and then made her way into the tiny bathroom.  A second shower made her feel somewhat less contaminated by this situation.  It was while she was in the shower  that she discovered changes to her skin that terrified her.  Huge blotches of green were spreading up and down her thighs.  The skin looked and felt different from her skin elsewhere.  It was cold and slimy.  She began to pound on the door and the glass wall.  Shouting crazily, she threatened to do herself in if they didn’t immediately answer her.  There was, as expected, no reply.  Carefully drying herself, she attempted to dry the slippery portions of her skin.  They remained slippery even when dried.   That scared her worse than anything else.

When she awoke in the morning, the strange skin covered everything from her hips to her ankles.  It now had patterns: black stripes with yellow borders.  Her stomach was a strange yellowish colour as were the insides of her legs.  Her body was longer, too, and strangely distorted.  It was as if someone had stretched her middle.  The strange shape of her hips made walking more difficult and she stumbled a few times because her balance was off.  She spent the rest of the day trying every avenue she could think of on the computer.  Nothing worked.  Her attempts were only interrupted by arrivals in the food slot.  As the day wore on, walking became increasingly difficult.  It was as if her legs were growing longer.  The strange slippery skin covered her feet by noon and her feet and toes had begun to grow longer by the middle of the afternoon.  By supper, she could no longer walk upright at all.  Her feet were nearly as long as her thighs and she had no strength in her feet at all.  She pulled herself along the floor to get supper and then pulled herself back to the computer afterwards.By evening, it was clear that there was no way she would stand upright again.  She had huge webbed feet with claws at the tip of each toe.  Fastidious as ever, she tried dragging herself back into the bathroom for a shower.  A noise startled her and she found herself crashing into the wall at the back of the bathroom.  She’d leaped nearly 5 meters, through the bathroom door!
Lying on her back, the shower curtain rumpled around her and off its rail, she frowned.  She might be a city girl now, but she’d been tormented by younger brothers years ago and half a continent away.  Only one creature she knew of could leap like that: a frog.  Pulling herself around she made a quick assessment of herself.  To her hips, she hadn’t changed in the least but her hips and legs were definitely a huge frog.  This was totally impossible!  People didn’t become frogs!  Or even partly frogs!  She just hoped she hadn’t ended up with a frog’s tongue.  That would be just too disgusting.

Bracing herself against the sink let her look in the mirror.  Opening her mouth, she stuck out her tongue.  It was normal!  That, at least, hadn’t changed.  She used very small hops and crawling to get from the washroom (where she had a bath for the first time in years) back to her bed.  She dreaded sleep but it soon overtook her regardless.The next morning brought the last of her changes.  She awoke still hoping it was all some horrible nightmare.  It wasn’t.  Her legs felt dry and very uncomfortable.  Frogs, she knew, liked things moist.  She crawled and hopped back to the washroom and ran another bath.  She carefully investigated herself to see whether the frog skin was growing past her hips.  Being half a frog was bad enough.  She didn’t want to become completely a huge frog.  It was during this investigation, she discovered that she no longer had two openings.  Somehow, during the night, her vagina and anus had grown into a single slit.  A cloaca some distant memory of high school biology class provided.

“Damn you all!” she shouted.  “Damn you all to Hell!”
“I’ll be sending in a transport robot to pick you up Ms. Turboth.  Please don’t fight it.  It will be less painful that way.”
“Stuff it,” she growled back.

A pair of robots entered the room.  One had a huge animal carry cage.  The other had several arms and some kind of large tube.  Elena struggled from the tub and tried to hop away from them.  She only managed one hop before she heard a loud pop and found herself enveloped in a net.  The robot with the carry cage quickly popped her, still in the net, into the cage.  The left the room and turned right down the corridor.  Elena found the light very poor for some reason even though there were ceiling lights every few meters.  Four doors down, a man she’d never seen in her life, reached in through a trapdoor in the top of the carrier and snapped a metal bracelet around her arm.  She struggled to free herself enough from the net enough to read it.

Subject: XTD-256
Species: H. Sapiens Ranidae
TF Date: 2095-05-23

“You’ll want this,” he said dumping a small music player into her cage.  

He nodded and the robot continued down the corridor and out into the bright sun.  Minutes later, she found herself in the back of a small verti-lift plane and on her way somewhere. She frowned at the stupid music player.  Clearly they meant her to listen to whatever music they’d provided while she was on her way to wherever.  At first, in defiance, she refused to turn it on.  Finally, as the hours dragged on, she relented and pushed the play button.  

A familiar voice (one of her clients) taunted her:

“Question:  What’s green and hops from bed to bed
“Answer: A prostitoad

The rest of the recording was his laughter.

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