The Metro platform where Selene and I had just alighted was quite busy with commuters and shoppers. I took Selene's hand and together we edged our way towards the exit and the connection to our next train. The short connecting corridor opened up into a large public space, high-ceilinged and brightly lit, even though I knew it was several tens of meters below ground.

Shops and outlets of all kinds edged the square, and were huddled in clusters here and there. In one of the open spaces in between, a small crowd had already begun to gather. On a whim, I guided Sis in the direction of the crowd and edged our way to the front. In the circle formed by the audience, a troupe of exotic dancers - or at least entertainers of some kind - were going through a series of warm-up movements. I glanced at Selene, who grinned back at me, clearly keen to see what kind of performance was to be forthcoming.

The troupe members were an equal mixture of male and female - none of the troupe seemed to diverge from the classic bipolar nature as far as I could tell. They were dressed with only tassel-decorated nipples and the skimpiest of thongs for both men and women, and were uniformly all exceptionally tall, exceptionally thin and, even more astonishingly, exceptionally flexible. Even during their warm-up exercises, Selene and I marveled at the kind of position they could adopt without apparent strain: one formed herself into a backward crab position and scurried about on the floor, while another stood flat on one foot and raising the other directly above his head.

The sound of dance music boomed out, something that all in the vicinity could hear, unless of course they chose to have the PA block the noise. Judging by the way heads turned, few of the passers-by seemed compelled to suppress the soundtrack. The troupe sprang into a well-rehearsed routine, some of the members turning somersaults and cartwheels, throwing each other in the air and catching them adriotly, and even forming wheels in pairs and triplets before rolling around the floor. Others mimed sexual activities in time to the music, not actually consummating their movements, although I fully admit that their abundant energy and evident enthusiasm was infectious.

"What are they?" my sister asked in a whisper.

Good question, I thought. I did not recognize their Kind at all, although I was reasonably sure they were not merely Norms. The automation, immediately identifying our uncertainty, flashed up that they were a mixture of Cats and Ragdolls. These were two Kinds I had not come across before, but it was clear that both were significantly augmented for strength and movements impossible to Norms or, for that matter, for other Kinds like myself.

Belatedly, I realized that they were busking, entertaining the passers-by by way of an advertisement for their services, their show, whatever they were offering to those who were willing to buy. No doubt a more elaborate and erotic show could be arranged at a suitable price. Anyone could find out more by a moment's interrogation of the PA, although right now I was more interested in the timetable information the PA was projecting for me.

"We gotta go," I hissed to Selene urgently, "We don't want to miss our connection."

With some effort, I dragged her away. We hurried along another underground passageway, arriving just as the train was pulling into the station.

This was the longer part of the trip. The carriages started fairly full, although Selene and I were able to snag a couple of seats. The crush thinned out rapidly as the train made its way out of the city centre and into the suburbs. Most of our fellow passengers sat quietly, or even slept as the Metro rattled along; for the most part, they appeared to be revelers returning home after a evening on the tiles, or more likely a night in someone else's bed.

One man awoke with a jump as the Metro began to slow, clearly roused by the automation just in time for him to get off at the right stop. A woman was chatting to an invisible friend, the communication mediated effortlessly by the PA. I could see her lips move, although the automation prevented the sound of her voice from disturbing the slumbering travelers around her.

Another woman was obviously trying out some recent purchases, opening first one little package containing a highly-decorated bottle and then another. As I watched from the corner of my eye, the woman scooped up her breasts, releasing them from the strappy top of the summery green dress she wore. She then rubbed a little of the first liquid into her cleavage and around her nipples, which made her skin shimmer and glisten with pale gold flecks.

Pleased with the result, she tugged up the hem of her dress and rubbed some of the second bottle into the lips between her legs. Her pussy darkened to a deep glossy red, almost the crimson of ripe cherries. The body paint combination was particular fetching, I thought, a very attractive look and one that certainly made me want to run my tongue over her lips to see if they tasted as good as they looked.

Before I could make any move to appreciate the woman's taste from a much closer range, the train pulled into the final stop. The woman calmly packed away her shopping and adjusted her dress before standing up and making her way to the doors. Selene and I followed her onto the platform where she was greeted by a couple - a man and a woman, both Norms - who embraced her warmly before escorting her arm-in-arm towards the exit.

Shortly afterwards, Sis and I also emerged from the Metro station blinking in the bright sunlight. The surroundings all looked vaguely familiar after my last visit.

"This way," I said, pointing.

We set off for a walk in the sunshine, chatting gaily.

Part 1 Part 3