"Well, —uh— first I got naked..."

“Jack, I will murder you in your sleep if you don’t tell me how you changed back into a boy after using the camera!” I squeaked, which kind of ruined the effect of the death threat. I banged a fist against the door for emphasis but didn’t do that again because it hurt. Besides, it sort of sounded like desperation.

“Are you going to tell me the truth, Jack, or am I going to have to come out there and look for it behind your tonsils?” Jack made noises but didn’t reply. I fumed, especially annoyed because I had a sneaking suspicion of what he had been doing as a new girl alone in the house.

“Well, uh,” he perseverated. I think that’s a word. “I’m—uh—are you sure you want to know, Hallie?”

“Yes! I think I do know, Jack, so just tell me!”

“I —uh— I got myself off….”

He didn’t sound embarrassed, but…what did he sound like? Regretful? I snarled at myself in the mirror, but I needed practice at being fierce. Still, was Jack’s solution all I needed to do to change back? Just…? “Tell me what you did exactly, Jack,” I said, trying not to be angsty about it.

“Well, —uh— first I got naked, no, no first, I played with my tits while still wearing my shirt…then I got naked.”

I rolled my eyes and rested my forehead on the mirror. “Go on. I want details.”

“Haven’t you done this yet?” he asked.

“Well, of course, I haven’t!” I snapped, bumping my head against the cold glass.

“Why not?” Jack sounded astonished.

“I just —I mean—I haven’t had the time!”

“You should make the time,” Jack sounded serious. “It’s really great!”

I didn’t say anything but bumped my head again by rocking back and forth on my bare feet.

Jack went on. “I’d always heard that women had better orgasms than men, and I wondered how anyone could know that. But it’s true!” Now he sounded excited. “It lasts longer, and it’s a deeper feeling, and it’s like all over, not just in one place!”

“You were alone?” I asked, almost strangling on the question.

“Yeah, sure, but I did it in front of the mirror in my bedroom,” Jack said, sounding thoughtful. “I am, by the way, an amazingly good-looking girl. I mean, I don’t have your advantages. I’m shorter with less boobage, and, and, dark brown hair that has, like, red highlights….” He trailed off, then sighed loudly.

Neither of us said anything for three beats, then we both spoke at once.

“If you did it…,” Jack began.

“I want you to shoot me with the camera,” I said, talking over him.

We were both quiet again. I moved away from the mirror and looked at myself up and down. I still had the stupid Space Babe chest piece glued on. “I need to get this thing off,” I said aloud.

“You need to get yourself off,” said Jack.

“You were supposed to get me some solvent for removing this appliance,” I whined.

“I’ve been thinking about other things,” he said.

“Yeah, well,” I pouted at my reflection. Wow, I am good at that, I noted. I’d have to try it on Jack. I pulled my brain back in the direction of thinking.

“What I’ve been thinking about…” Jack began, but I cut him off.

“Don’t be perverse, Jack,” I told him. “Go get the machine, shoot me with it, and… if you insist, I’ll shoot you with it.”

His voice had a grin in it. “I already called the car show guys and asked if they could use one more model for the show.”

“Huh?” I boggled. “You mean you?!”

“The job is standing around and leaning or lying on cars wearing a bikini, Jack!” I pointed out. Maybe his head rattled because I knew he was nodding.

“Yeah,” he said. “If you can do it, I think I can, too.”

Rolling my eyes did not express enough annoyance, so I rolled my whole head on my shoulders. “Go get the machine, and I’ll go back to my room to get some clothes on!”

I heard him move away, though the door to his room was just across the short hallway. I peeked out to make sure he was gone, then hopped to it across the living room to my own room before he got back.

Once in my room, I realized (again!) that I still had on the costume piece. I tried to work a finger under it to see if it had loosened up, but no! It was really stuck on there! If the gun changed me back, would I still be wearing it? It shouldn’t be able to stay on with a flatter masculine chest, should it?

I did have an alternative to the gun, now; I could try Jack’s method for changing back. I felt my face turn red. I sighed. It’s not like I’ve never masturbated…I mean, I was a guy, and sometimes you have to deal with things so your clothes don’t have embarrassing lumps.

But doing it…as a girl…that kind of felt like it would be wrong somehow. Did I have to work out some way of giving myself permission to…hmm? How did girls do that, anyway? Jack never finished his description of the process!

I heard his door close, and I hadn’t really looked for anything else to wear. I had Billy’s ratty old bathrobe as a last resort, so I threw that on. It felt weird because it didn’t fit right, but…it would have to do. I closed my bedroom door behind me and looked toward Jack, standing at the end of the little hall near the kitchen.

He had a big green machine in his hands. Right at the moment, it looked more like a Super Soaker than an antique camera.

“You sure you want to do this?” he asked. “If it turns you back into a guy, you’ll miss out on this modeling gig, which could, you know, lead to a whole career for Hallie Jones.” He looked apologetic about raising such a flimsy rationale.

I twitched in Billy’s blue bathrobe. “Shoot me, Jack!” I demanded.

He lifted the camera and pointed it at me. “Hallie,” he tried again to talk me out of it, “you’re a beautiful woman with a wonderful future ahead of you….”

“Shut up!” I said, knowing that my voice sounded squeaky and cute, not forceful and commanding. “Pull the trigger, Jack!”

He winced. Then the room seemed to explode as a ball of light burst from the camera.