Who's kissing who?
Ribbet... Ribbet...
At the sound of the frog, Jennifer Wrigley glanced out and saw it sitting peacefully on the lily pad lazily floating on the still water of the pond.
“My aren't you a chubby little fella.” she said.
“As if you're tiny, Miss Boobs. I'd hate to have you fall on me. You'd flatten me like a pancake. And even if you missed, you might bounce about for several weeks.” replied a voice.
Jennifer was startled. There was no one to be seen nearby. “Who said that?” she asked nervously.
“I did.” replied the same voice.
Still there was no one visible in her immediate vicinity. Growing ever more nervous, Jennifer asked “Where are you? Why are you hiding?”
“I'm not hiding.” replied the voice. “I'm sitting right here in plain sight. Are you blind, as well?”
“Where?”
“Down here. On the lily pad.”
“But you're a _frog_.” said a very surprised Jennifer.
“Wow! You're not blind at all.” replied the frog. “Just some fatso with perfect vision. You've certainly made my day.”
“Are you sure you're really a frog? You're rude enough to be an old warty toad.” snapped Jennifer angrily.
“Hey, I'm sorry about the fatso remark. I didn't really mean it. Sometimes I get a little frustrated sitting around on this pad all by myself, and then, when someone finally does come around, they totally ignore me. You should try sitting around on an old soggy lily pad in a cold mossy pond for a thousand years or so. I'd bet you'd get more than a little cranky too.”
“You're a thousand years old?”
“More or less, beautiful.” replied the frog. “But sometimes I feel a lot older, and I'm awfully tired of living life as a frog.”
“I take it you haven't always been a frog.”
“How perceptive, gorgeous. I used to be a prince.” he sighed. “But even those days seem like a long time ago now.”
“What happened?”
“I was in the forest, on a hunt sponsored by my father the King. As a lad, I was awkward and clumsy - more so than any of my friends. My royal parents thought this hunt would help me grow out of my boyish clumsiness. They meant well, I suppose. But while in the forest, I accidentally tripped over a fallen log and fell heavily atop a small red fox.”
“How awful.” exclaimed Jennifer. “Was she hurt?”
“After years of contemplation, I'd say - no, not really. Startled perhaps, but definitely not hurt.”
“However, the little vixen - how you knew she was truly female I cannot imagine - was not in reality a fox. In truth, she was an old bitch of a shapeshifting crone named Grzelyla. To say that she was more than a little pissed at me for daring to fall on her without first gaining her permission would be a understatement. Right then and there, she cursed me. Wham! Bam! Before I could react or even knew what had happened, I was a frog. From my lily pad, I croaked and munched on passing flies. And I knew I was doomed to stay a wretched frog forever. Unless, perchance, I could find and then convince some ordinary person to kiss me, thereby breaking my enchantment.
“Say, aren't you an ordinary person? Have I told you recently, that I find you a most attractive young woman. Would you mind terribly giving me a quick little buss in order to break my curse. I'd be eternally grateful. It doesn't have to be anything fancy or lingering, and if it would upset you greatly, I'll promise not to use my tongue.”
“Eew. Gross.” replied Jennifer. “I'll have to think about this for a while. After all, you are kind of green and icky and slimy. By the way, if I kiss you, do you think I'll get warts on my lips?”
“Oh. Not again.” said the dejected frog.
“Hey, I have an idea. Why don't you come home with me? I think you'd really benefit from a change of scenery. Back in my apartment, I've got a bowl that we used for my brother's pet turtle that should be just about perfect for you and besides, if I decide to kiss you, you'll be a lot easier to find there, because I won't have to go wading through this whole pond to find you again. How's that sound? Deal?”
“Deal.” said the frog sounding more encouraged.
“By the way, my name's Jennifer.”
“And you, my Lady, may call me Lystan.”
* * * Epilogue * * *
As might be expected, Alex and Liselle lived happily ever after. After all, that's the way enchanted frog stories are supposed to end.
Of their three children, only one had a slightly green complexion. And all three had a birthmark on their upper lip that resembled a wart. But in all other respects, they were remarkably average children.
by Bill Hart
Thomas Higgs's old friend died, but then who is this young man with the strange offer to make Tommy young again?
Part 1 of 3
by
Bill Hart
Author's Notes:
This is a story that decided it had to be written while I was writing something else. It was so insistent, I had to stop the story I was writing and write this one.
Don't you just hate it when that happens?
This story is also an attempt to address something that several people refer to as a fault in my writing. Contrary to what a lot of people might think, I do take constructive criticism of my work quite seriously and in the vein it's given.
Bill
Thomas Higgs hobbled slowly up the walk of the imposing mansion. His knees ached. He'd slowed down considerably in the last several years as advancing age took its toll. He was going to turn eighty-four next week. He wasn't as young or as spry as he'd once been, but then who was after making it into their ninth decade.
Of late, there had been several times he wished he could be young and full of vigor again. If only he could be young again, there were many things - weren't there always - he would do quite differently in his life. However, he knew regaining his spent youth was simply an impossible dream. He'd already lived his life - in all likelihood nearly to its undeniable and inescapable end. A life once lived was lived just once and for all time. There could be no rewinding of a lifetime.
And yet, even if he somehow could begin his life anew, he wasn't sure he would.
Thomas sighed. It was a longer walk than he'd expected. And the walk only served as a reminder of his advancing age. But there were things even worse than getting older as each day passed day. And the worst of those was continually losing those good friends he'd known his entire life.
There weren't too many of his friends left anymore. Some of their passings had been particularly hard on Thomas. But none of them had been as difficult as the one he'd endured last week. Arnold Wheeler had been his best friend in the whole world ever since they were kids, way back in grade school. He'd passed away so suddenly - old age can sneak up on a body sometimes - that Thomas hadn't even had the time to say goodbye. Even at his funeral, he hadn't been able to say goodbye. The casket had already been sealed. Arnie had never been comfortable with the idea of people staring at his dead body.
But all this thinking only made Thomas wonder again what he was doing here. He didn't know anyone in this posh and expensive neighborhood; nobody he knew even had enough money to rent the gardeners' shacks in these places.
But that name - Alan Wheeler - on the letter he'd received had intrigued him. Thomas wondered if this Alan were related to Arnie somehow. He couldn't be his son. Thomas knew that Arnie, just as he himself was, had been a bachelor his whole life. That didn't preclude his having kids, of course, but Arnie had never mentioned having any. And Thomas was certain he would have known if there had been any. He and Arnie had few secrets between them.
Finally, after what seemed an eternity, Thomas reached the front door. On the front step, Thomas took a couple of long deep breaths, exhaling each of them in similar manner. He slowly reached for the large brass knocker - oddly he could find no bell - in order to rap on the heavy front door.
It wasn't long before a man - somewhat overdressed to Thomas' mind - answered the door. "Might I be of assistance, suh?" asked the man in a resonant, but still somewhat reserved, monotone voice.
"I'm here to see Alan Wheeler."
The overdressed man looked Thomas over carefully for several seconds. "Have you an appointment with the mastah, suh?"
"Was I supposed to make an appointment?" Thomas was certain this man was getting annoyed with him, but he had been asked to come here at this time. "The letter from Mr. Wheeler said nothing about making an appointment. It just said to come over today." Thomas handed the man the letter - he was glad he'd brought it along.
The man at the door read the letter, before handing it back again. "Why didn't you just say you were Mistah Higgs, suh?" He backed away from the door slowly, allowing Thomas to enter. "Please follow me, suh. The mastah is expecting you."
"Pompous windbag," muttered Thomas under his breath. But if the man leading him toward his meeting with Alan Wheeler had heard him, he showed no discernable reaction.
Thomas was led down a long hall to the only closed door along its length. The peculiar butler opened the door. "Please wait inside the library, Mistah Higgs. You may look around at your leisure, if you so wish. But please, touch nothing. I shall inform the mastah that you have finally arrived."
"Thank you," replied Thomas, as he entered the room.
And once again the odd butler said nothing as he turned and headed away. Thomas wondered where someone would have to go to find anyone so peculiar.
Thomas was surprised to see so many books in the room. He generally never saw this many books in one place unless he was in the public library. But then, the strange man had called this room a library. And it certainly lived up to that name.
As he wandered among the numerous shelves of books, Thomas was surprised to find some very familiar books. They were books he had neither seen nor even thought about in several years. On the shelf sat four old leather bound volumes, as well as four additional albums of a decidedly more recent origin, of 'El Oroso' - the Golden Bear - his old High School yearbook. Even more strangely, the four older volumes were for those same four years he and his best friend Arnie had been in attendance there. What were the odds that someone he didn't know and had never heard of before had those four particular albums in his library?
Who the hell could this Alan Wheeler possibly be?
He couldn't be Arnie's son. Arnie had had no children, at least none that Thomas knew about. He'd never even married. And now that Thomas had had a little more time to think a few other things through, he remembered that Arnie had also been an only child.
Feeling increasingly confused by everything he'd seen and no longer knowing what he might expect in this strange unknown place, Thomas slid down into the plush chair that faced the large mahogany desk, where he expected Alan Wheeler would sit when he finally arrived. Thomas had scores of questions he wanted to ask; he only hoped this Alan Wheeler had all the answers to his questions.
When the door finally opened again, a young man, clearly of college age and not that long out of high school entered the room. Thomas' mouth dropped open, as he stared at the youngster who might have easily been mistaken for a ghost from his past.
"Barton!" exclaimed the young man in an imperious tone. "Get my good friend Tommy here a drink." He looked over at Thomas. "You were always a Scotch man as I remember, Tommy," he said with an oddly familiar smile. He turned back to his strange manservant whose name was Barton. "Chivas Regal for my friend, Barton. Three fingers, neat." With a swagger as imperious as the tone of his voice, the young man entered the room and, just as Thomas had expected, sat down in the chair behind the mahogany desk.
"How did you know that?" Thomas asked nervously.
"I know a great many things about you, Tommy Higgs."
"Do I know you?" Thomas suddenly felt extremely uncomfortable in this young man's presence.
Alan smiled at Thomas. "Of course you do. We've known each other a very long time. It's just been quite a long while since you've seen me this way."
"I don't understand."
"That's to be expected, Tommy. I didn't really understand at first."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"Just look at me Tommy," smiled Alan. "Look real close. Once you do I'm convinced you'll be able to tell exactly who I am."
Thomas continued staring at the young man's familiar face. "I know who you appear to be," he replied with nervous caution. "But I know that's impossible. You can't possibly be who you appear to be."
At this point, Barton entered the room. "Here is your drink, suh. Chivas Regal, three fingers, neat, as the Mastah Alan has requested."
Thomas took the glass. "Thank you, Mr. Barton." But the manservant said nothing, even as Thomas emptied the glass in one swift gulp.
"I haven't seen you do that in quite a while, Tommy. At your age, I'm certain the tummy tends to do flip-flops after the chugging of a glass of scotch." Alan turned to his butler. "Fetch another Chivas for my good friend, Barton."
"At once, suh."
"Oh and Barton."
"Yes, Mastah."
"Why don't you just bring the bottle back with you?"
Barton raised an eyebrow in apparent surprise, but, as it wasn't his place to contradict Alan, he replied simply, "As you wish, Mastah."
Alan then turned his full attention back to Thomas. "Have you finally decided who I am, Tommy?"
"I've already told you it’s not possible for you to be who you appear to be," snapped Thomas. "Arnie's dead and buried. You can't possibly be Arnie."
"Tommy, Tommy, Tommy," sighed Alan. "You were always a remarkably stubborn cuss, even when we were little kids."
Thomas stared at the young man. How had Alan known something about him that he thought only Arnie had known?
"You're wondering how I know what I know," replied Alan. "Maybe you'll believe what is obvious if we talk about Mary Ellen."
"Mary Ellen?" replied Thomas. "What the hell could you possibly know about Mary Ellen?"
"I know everything there is to know about Mary Ellen, Tommy," replied Alan. "You should have asked her to marry you all those years ago. We both know you wanted to ask her. How many times have I told you she would have said yes?"
"More times than I can possibly count, I'd imagine," replied Thomas absently. Once he realized what he'd said, Thomas stared at Alan. "How can you know something like that?" he finally asked. "I never discussed Mary Ellen with anyone except..."
"... Your best friend Arnie Wheeler," finished Alan with a widening grin. "Yes, I know everything," he added, eerily anticipating Thomas' next question. "I know what I know because I was there with you. I listened to every word you had to say to her and watched nearly everything the two of you did when you were together."
Thomas, finding the young man's story disturbing, continued staring at Alan. "How can you possibly claim to be Arnie Wheeler? He was three months older than me and I'm going to turn eighty-four next week. You are nowhere near Arnie's age. Hell, I doubt you're any older than twenty-five, if even that."
"You really think I look that old?" replied Alan with that odd smile that made Thomas distrust him. "Actually I'm only twenty-three - at least, that's the age that appears on my drivers' license - and just recently out of the State University."
"You haven't answered my question." Thomas' growing impatience with the young man's evasions was beginning to show. "How can you possibly claim to be Arnie Wheeler? Arnie's dead; I went to his funeral."
"It's not a claim, Tommy. It’s the full and absolute truth. Why do you think the casket was sealed? It was so people wouldn't start asking questions when I wasn't in it, of course."
"But how is this possible?" asked Thomas. Even though he wanted to believe his best friend was still alive, the idea that he could have somehow found a way to lose better than sixty years just seemed too ludicrous.
"It was magic," replied Alan. "Just plain and simple magic."
"Magic?" Thomas wasn't sure he believed that story.
"I was dying, Tommy. Slowly to be sure, but I was dying all the same. I made a wish to be young again and a demon overheard me and appeared in my room. After a little negotiation, I cut myself a deal with the demon - or perhaps it was Old Scratch himself who'd come calling - to restore my youth and make me a young man again."
"But why would you do that?"
"Why wouldn't I do that?" replied Alan. "It makes perfect sense. Wouldn't you agree that being young again is better than being dead?"
Before Thomas could think of an answer, Barton re-entered the room. Without saying one word, he handed Thomas another three fingers of Scotch, neat, and left the bottle on the desk, just as Alan had asked, and left again.
Flustered and confused, Thomas chugged this drink just as he had the first one. And then, with little effort, he leaned towards the desk, picked up the bottle of Scotch, and poured himself another round. Only this time, the Scotch rose nearly to the rim of the glass instead of merely three fingers.
"That's irrelevant," replied Thomas. "Regaining your youth is neither right nor natural. That's why you wouldn't do that."
"You always were somewhat of a prude, Tommy." Alan began grinning. "Should I assume from what you've just said that you're not in the least bit interested in regaining your own long lost youth?"
"What are you talking about, Alan?" Thomas still couldn't bring himself to call this youngster Arnie.
"Why do you think I asked you here, Tommy? Even with my regained youth I'm still lonely. And I really miss having my best friend around to share in my good fortune." Alan's sorrowful face suddenly seemed far older than it actually was. "Just think about this for a few seconds, Tommy. It would be the two of us young and together again. Can't you just imagine us doing all those things we only dreamed of doing when we were young the first time?"
“An interesting notion.” thought Thomas, if true. He took a long sip of the Scotch then began thinking he'd had too much to drink. More often than not strange things started happening whenever he mixed too much alcohol with his medications. He was no longer the young and daring man he'd once been, a thought he suddenly found repugnant and more distressing than ever before.
"What would I have to do?" Thomas asked calmly. Despite knowing deep down it was all wrong, Thomas also knew he was still facing that upcoming eighty-fourth birthday. And this chance of becoming young again - if it were as true as Alan claimed - was just too good an opportunity to pass up.
"I was certain you'd be interested, Tommy. You're a stubborn old cuss, but practical when push comes to shove." As soon as saw Barton reenter the room, Alan beamed, "He's agreed to the deal, Barton."
Barton looked Thomas over carefully. "I can't really say that I'm surprised by his acceptance, Mastah Alan." Casually, the butler reached inside his coat and pulled out a pen and a sheaf of papers. "If you will sign these few papers, suh, then we shall be able to continue."
Thomas looked surprised. He'd though the man strange, but his being a demon was nothing he'd ever considered. Are you trying to tell me that you're the Devil, Mr. Barton?"
"Certainly not, suh. I am merely Barton. There is no mister honorific prefacing my name. I am just Barton - the humble servant of Mastah Alan. There is nothing more, nothing less."
"Then why should I sign these papers?"
"It's a simple formality, suh. The protocols demand it," replied Barton. "You are simply being made a party to the deal that Mastah Alan previously struck with me. The papers are merely the codicil to his contract."
"Are you saying I don't have to forfeit my soul to become young again?"
"Forfeit your soul, suh?" queried Barton. "I'm not aware of any such forfeiture of assets on your part being involved. I'd certainly know If Mastah Alan here had surrendered his soul for the return of his youth; I would have never allowed that to happen."
"In that case, give me those papers." Thomas hurriedly signed and initialed the papers in every indicated place before returning the papers to Barton.
"I'll file these papers with yours, Mastah Alan." With a sly grin that neither Alan nor Thomas saw, Barton turned papers in hand, and hurriedly headed for whatever place Alan's contract was stored.
"What do we first, Arnie?" asked Thomas, after he took another long swig of his Scotch.
"You must remember to call me Alan. You'll also have to get used to answering to a new name once your rejuvenation is complete." Alan paused for several seconds, not knowing how his friend would respond to what he was about to tell him. "The initial phase has already been completed. You've already partaken sufficiently of the requisite youth restoring potion."
"What?" questioned Thomas. As he shook his head, it dawned on him what must have happened. "It was in the Scotch," snarled Thomas. "You weren't really going to give me any choice. Were you, Alan?"
"But you have already chosen, just as I knew you would, old friend," replied Alan. "Where is the harm in simply speeding things along their destined track, Tommy?"
"You might be right about that," agreed Thomas. "And yet, what would you have done if I'd refused your offer."
Alan smiled. "That my old friend is a moot point. It's certainly not worth wasting any time over."
"I suppose you're probably right." replied Thomas. "So what do we do next?"
"Go over and get one of our old 'El Oroso' annuals from the bookshelf. Any of the four will work, but the one from our senior year has the largest picture, as I'm sure you remember," replied Alan. "And while you're over there, grab the newer one sitting near it that corresponds to the same school year."
"Okay." Thomas went over to shelf and picked up the two yearbooks - the one from his and Arnie's senior year and the fourth book of the later series. "It all sounds so simple, but I don't understand what any of this means."
Alan simply continued with his instructions. "In our annual find the page where my picture should be."
Thomas flipped through the pages of the old 'El Oroso' until he finally found the page he'd been seeking. But for several seconds, he could little more than stare at the page in disbelief. "What happened to your picture, Arnie? It should be right here between Mary Wheldon and Cynthia Wells; that's where I remember it always being. But it's not here now. Where did it go? And why are Mary and Cynthia's senior pictures now right next to each other? It's almost as if your picture had never been there in the first place."
"Very good, Tommy." Alan smiled. "Now check for the same thing in the newer 'El Oroso'."
Thomas set the older book down on the desk. And once again, Thomas found himself rapidly flipping through its pages until he found the exact page for which he was looking. There on that page was the senior picture of Alan Wheeler - only slightly different than the one of Arnie he remembered - sandwiched between Marli Webber and Jeannie Whipple.
"I don't believe this."
"Belief isn't a necessity, Tommy. Now open our book again and find your picture, Tommy."
Once again, Thomas did what he'd been told. He found his senior picture between Jeffery Hibble and Martha Hill right where it had always been. "Okay, my picture's here right where it ought to be. What comes next?"
"Set the book down on the desk, leaving it open to the page with your picture," replied Alan. "Once that's done, open the newer yearbook and find the page where your picture would be if you were a member of the class."
Thomas opened the newer 'El Oroso' and readily flipped through its pages. He stopped and looked over a page, before finally turning to the next one. "I suppose if I were in this book, I'd be right about here." He pointed at the small white space between Julie Hendricks and Marlena Hinton and smiled. "I certainly wouldn't mind getting to know either of these girls better once I've become their age again and am no longer older than their great-grandfathers."
"They're real babes, Tommy," replied Alan. "Maybe I can introduce you to them."
"That would be most kind of you."
"Now set the yearbook down on the desk next to the other one. Touch your left index finger to your picture in the old book and your right index finger to the space where your picture would be in the new one."
Thomas looked puzzled, but he did what he'd been told. Who was he to question how magic worked. Once he'd completed the connection between himself and the two books, an unexpected jolt of electricity threw him to the floor. "What the hell was that?" he exclaimed. "I'm still an old man; I can't take much of that shit."
"Don't worry about it, Tommy. The process has already begun."
"What's begun?" He didn't feel any different, but his nerves had been frayed by the apparent shock. His fingers still tingled. But even as Thomas asked the question, he could see his picture in the older 'El Oroso' begin fading. At the same time, in the more recent edition, the pictures of Julie Hendricks and Marlena Hinton were beginning to separate. They appeared to be making room for another picture to be inserted between them.
As the last of his old picture faded away, the pictures of Jeffery Hibble and Martha Hill slowly began moving towards each other. They were clearly filling in the gap caused by the removal of Thomas' picture.
Once sufficient space was available, another picture began appearing in the newly opened gap between Julie and Marlena. At that moment, Thomas began feeling peculiar. If asked, he doubted he could adequately describe the strange feelings. But he was convinced beyond a shadow of a doubt that his body was becoming younger. He could sense the vigor of youth flowing back into his body. He hadn't felt this great in several years.
Thomas realized that after his new picture fully materialized within the newer yearbook, he'd be about the same age, give or take a few months, as Alan. He was suddenly looking forward to being young again. He also began hoping he could find someone in this new life like Mary Ellen again. He wouldn't make the mistake of letting her get away from him this time.
And yet something - he didn't know what exactly - didn't seem quite right.
Suddenly, Thomas began wondering why he was still shorter than Alan. Of course, the young Alan had been the taller of the two when he'd entered the library, but that was easily explained. Thomas had once read people the age he'd been often shrank somewhat as they grew older. It was something about the compaction of bones or something like that. However, from the time they'd been boys, Thomas had always been taller. There was no reason he could think of to explain why that shouldn't continue being true. But it definitely was no longer the truth it once was. In fact, Thomas thought he was getting still shorter.
"What the hell's going on, Alan?" Thomas' voice cracked with every syllable he spoke.
"It's nothing to worry about, Tommy," smiled Alan. "You're simply changing to fit into our world. Just as we agreed on, you'll soon be young like me again. You'll be a child born of the generation of this new 'El Oroso'." Alan began smiling, even as Thomas frowned. "Why don't you take a look at your new senior picture?"
Without thinking about what he was doing, Thomas casually brushed his dark hair away from in front of his face. He didn't know exactly when his hair had grown so long - he'd never allowed his hair to grow so long - or regained the dark color of his youth.
In the old yearbook, there was now no more space between the pictures of Jeffery Hibble and Martha Hill than there were any other pair on the same page. Thomas swallowed nervously as he realized that who he had once been was now no more.
As he turned his attention to the newer 'El Oroso', Thomas wondered what he looked like now. He was also a little worried he might not like his new appearance. But even if he hated what he'd now become, Thomas was uncertain what, if anything, he'd be able to do about it.
When his eyes finally focused on that picture between those of Julie Hendricks and Marlena Hinton, Thomas was dumbfounded. He couldn't believe his eyes. This was nothing like he'd been expecting.
"What the hell have you done to me, Alan?" he asked in a steady light soprano totally unlike his former voice. "According to the caption that identifies this picture, my name is now Theresa Higgs." Thomas felt at his chest, quickly finding the two small breasts now pushing his shirt away from his chest. One of his hands shot down to his crotch, where he just as quickly discovered another part of his anatomy could now be considered AWOL. "I'm a girl!" he exclaimed in stunned amazement.
"You certainly are." grinned Alan.
_______________
TO BE CONTINUED
Part 2 of 3
by Bill Hart
"I'm a girl," whispered Thomas. In spite of all the supporting evidence - a pair of small breasts and the decidedly feminine mound at his crotch being the most notable - he still didn't want to believe what had happened. "I don't want to be a girl."
"Just what's wrong with you being a girl, Theresa?" asked Alan. "I'm sure you know that we'll be able to do things together now we never even dreamed of doing together before."
Thomas stared at Alan in angry disbelief. "What the hell did you do to me? How the hell did you do it?" Thomas ran his now smaller hand slowly through his mass of soft and silky, shoulder-length dark brown hair. It was a far cry from his formerly sparse, mostly white, short hair. "Why am I a girl, Alan? Nothing was ever said about turning me into a girl."
"If you'll think about for a few minutes," smiled Alan smugly, "there was nothing ever said about leaving you male either."
"I don't understand."
"You of all people should know how foolish it is to assume anything. Don't you remember what I told you earlier?" Thomas shook his head in reply. "I told you I was lonely and missed having my best friend around all the time. Although, to be perfectly honest, you're not quite the girl I had envisioned you becoming in my mind. But I'm sure we'll have plenty of things to talk about now that you've moved in here with me. And when those times come when we tire of talking, I'm sure we'll be able to think up a little something that will keep us both satisfactorily amused." Alan smiled at Thomas, leaving no doubts in his mind just what 'little somethings' Alan was already referring. "I'm planning on never being lonely ever again, Theresa dear. There are also a great many things that I'm not going to miss out on while I'm young this time. The two of us are going to have more fun together than you could have ever imagined possible."
Thomas' face visibly paled. "You can't possibly mean what I think you mean."
"Of course I can. Why wouldn't I?" replied Alan with the cunning smile of a thief. "I mean let's face facts, Theresa - 'Me Tarzan, you Jane,' if you know what I mean."
"You can't possibly mean that," snapped Thomas, his mind spinning with both anger and confusion. "I'll never do something like that with you, Alan Wheeler."
"Maybe not this instant, but sooner or later you will," replied Alan. "It's inevitable - a part of the program. "When you're finally ready for a little action I'm convinced you'll enjoy yourself. I'm already certain I will enjoy your company."
"I'll never be ready for that."
"I really wouldn't want to bet on that. Trust me, it'll happen." Alan looked Theresa over carefully. "It's too bad you're not more well-developed. As I've already told you, Theresa, it's completely unavoidable. As your body has been changed, so too will your likes and dislikes follow suit."
"Before that can happen, change me back to the way I was before."
"Are you actually trying to tell me you want to be an old man again?"
"I don't want to be a girl, Alan."
"Why not?" asked Alan. From where I'm sitting there's absolutely nothing wrong with you being a girl, Theresa."
"Damn it, Alan! Quit calling me Theresa. You know it's not my name." Thomas glared angrily at Alan, then crossed his slender arms below his small breasts. "From where you're sitting, you've been staring at my breasts, probably wishing they were bigger. If you really don't see anything wrong with turning me into a girl, then why don't we switch places? You can be the girl and I'll stare at your tits for a while."
"Will you just relax, The... er, Thomas," replied Alan sheepishly. "Nothing's been permanently cast into concrete... just yet."
"What the hell does that mean?"
"What the hell do you think it means?" Alan slowly shook his head. "I'd almost forgotten how totally dense you could be sometimes."
"Me? Dense? What the hell do you mean dense?" roared Thomas back, although truthfully his new voice wasn't nearly as intimidating in his current situation as his own one would have been. "You're not the one who underwent an abrupt and totally unexpected sex change."
"Why don't you just give it a rest for a few minutes? Look at your picture in the 'El Oroso' for a moment or two? I really can't believe that you'd give up being young again just because you didn't like the idea of being a girl."
"You just don't understand. Do you?" sighed Thomas. "I don't really like your ideas behind me being a girl." Without thinking he looked down at the picture of his young girl self. "She's certainly a very pretty girl."
"But still a little-underdeveloped. Wouldn't you say, Thomas?"
"You and that one-track mind of yours." Without really wanting to, Thomas smiled at his friend. "I wouldn't consider her as that underdeveloped... exactly." Subconsciously, he lifted a hand to his chest. His hand poked cautiously at his small new breasts.
"You're an A-cup at best." Thomas's face tinted scarlet at Alan's comment. Then unexpectedly Alan added, "Why don't you tell me what you remember about the day that picture was taken?"
"Sure. Why not? I remember that day as if it were yesterday," replied Thomas absently as he looked at the girl's picture once more. "It was still summer vacation between my junior and senior years. School hadn't started yet; we still had about a month to go before we'd have to return to our classes. However, the people at the school had made and sent out appointments at the local photographer's for all of us would be graduating seniors." Feeling suddenly confused and disoriented, Thomas stopped his reminiscences of the day and slowly shook his head. "Just what the hell have I been saying?" he asked Alan, sounding angrier than he'd been just a few moments earlier.
"You were just telling me about the day they took your senior picture," replied Alan. "But then suddenly you stopped."
"Oh, that's right." Alan's tone of voice mellowed dramatically. "You really must forgive me, Alan. I really don't know what could have possibly distracted me." A moment later, Thomas continued his story. "I don't know how they managed it, but my appointment was set for what turned out to be a beautiful summer day. I wanted to be outside in the sun, not in some old photographer's room. I was still somewhat of a tomboy back then, as I'm sure you must remember."
After a small pause, Thomas began smiling. "I didn't really want to get all cleaned up and sit around waiting to get my picture taken on such a beautiful summer day. However, my parents had bought me this new dress to wear that special day." Thomas sighed. "But I never really wanted to wear some stupid dress if I could avoid it. Can you even imagine me back then wearing a dress? However, I didn't want to be a disappointment to my parents either. As the time of my appointment approached, I put on the dress, brushed the tangles out of my hair, and then went to the studio and had my picture taken. It wasn't as bad as I'd expected." Thomas stared at Alan for a moment. "I remember you. You were one of those silly boys who whistled at me as I was walking to the photographer's studio. Weren't you?" he asked with a huge grin.
"Mom always said that picture was the best picture ever taken of me. I'm not sure I ever believed it." Thomas sighed again. "However, I still think it would have looked even better if only my boobs had been a little larger." Once again Thomas shook his head. "What the hell just happened to me?" he asked in a harsher tone.
"A little adjustment, I would suspect."
"What the hell do you mean by a little adjustment?" asked Thomas. His stance had altered subtly in the time he'd been discussing the day his picture was taken.
"Just that. It's nothing really sinister," replied Alan. "Your mind and your body are a little out of sync and need to be realigned. You don't really to worry about it, Thomas. It's all perfectly normal and natural."
"Perfectly normal and natural?" mused Thomas. "What can be perfectly natural or in any way normal about being changed into a young girl. There must be a way to reverse this, Alan. I don't want to be Theresa Higgs; I want to me."
"Is that all you're worried about?"
"Isn't that more than enough to be worried about? why shouldn't I be worried about being someone I'm not?" asked Thomas. "Don't you get it yet, Alan. "If I'm supposed to be Theresa Higgs, then I simply won't remain the real me. And if I won't be Thomas Higgs, then I might just as well be dead."
"Who told you that you won't be you? It's a lie - a complete and total fabrication," replied Alan. You'll always remember your entire life as Thomas Higgs - none of that will change simply because you've become a girl sixty years younger than you were before. Why would I want your memories stolen away from you when I wanted my best friend to share in my regained youth with me?"
"I don't know," pouted Thomas. "But I still don't know why I have to be a girl?" he sniffled.
"I don't make the rules; I don't really know who does," replied Alan. "But whoever it is who does clearly decided you were supposed to be a girl in this world, not me." Alan casually slid his arm around Thomas' soft shoulder. "You know, it could have just as easily been me they decided on turning into a girl."
"That doesn't really make me feel much better, Alan," pouted Thomas. "I'm still a girl. And you're not."
"You know, I've got a little something here that might make you feel a little better," smiled Alan, as he held out a photograph to Thomas that he'd just picked up from the desk. "Although to be perfectly honest, I'm not too sure it will make you feel as good now as it would have before your recent transformation."
Thomas reached out and took the picture. "You're right; this would have made me feel better before." Thomas stared at the picture. It was of an oddly familiar looking girl with an overabundance of curves in all the right places. She had dark blonde hair. And the tight-fitting cheerleader sweater she was wearing clearly revealed her very full and firm set of C-cup sized breasts. "Where did you get this picture?" he asked suddenly without having the vaguest idea why he'd asked the question. With an odd smile spreading across his face, Thomas set the photograph of the busty cheerleader down on the same page of the yearbook on which the senior picture of Theresa Higgs could now be found.
"It was just sitting here on my desk." Alan looked puzzled. "I don't where it came from originally, but you must have seen me pick it up."
"That's not what I meant, Alan. And I think you know it," said Thomas indignantly. "How is it that you have this picture of me at the cheerleader camp held prior to the start of our senior year." He glared at Alan. "There weren't supposed to be any cameras there?"
"That's you in the picture?" asked Alan with obvious surprise in his voice. "I would have never guessed that was you."
"Oh really. And why would that be?" asked Thomas as he casually flicked his dark hair out from in front of his face. "I know it's been a few years and it's not really a very flattering picture, but I really think I'd know me when I saw me." With total indifference, Thomas stretched out his arms. Once that was finished, he let loose with a rather long sigh. "Cameras were supposedly banned from that cheerleader camp," he began. "But I'll bet you already knew that, Alan," smiled Thomas. "Someone obviously smuggled one in to take pictures of us." But even as Thomas continued his languid complaint, his form began altering, slowly at first, but rapidly picking up speed. "Just who was it, Alan? Who violated our trust that day?"
"I have no idea who it could have been." Alan couldn't keep from staring at Thomas as his small A-cup sized breasts swiftly swelled into a more impressive C-cup size. Although his shirt was clearly strained by the effort, it still somehow managed to keep his newly enlarged impressive bust in check.
While Thomas had retained his current height, his waist had contracted slightly. His pants now clung to his hips and seemed to hug his waist tightly. His hair had also lightened from dark brown to dark blonde, while growing out roughly another four inches.
"Just what are you staring at, Alan?" asked Thomas in a more sultry tone of voice than he'd used before. He was clearly totally unaware his form had been altered again. With the most casual of motions, he flicked his now blonde hair away from in front of his now blue eyes. As Alan continued staring at him, Thomas' playful smile widened. "You're really going to have to learn to control that wondrous lust of yours, Alan," he smiled. Thomas felt quite pleased with himself that he had this effect on his friend, even though he wasn't exactly sure why he should find messing with Alan's head so pleasurable.
Alan looked down at the 'El Oroso' on his desk just in time to see the cheerleader's photograph Thomas had placed on it fade from sight. An odd glow that was swiftly vanishing was all that apparently remained of it.
However, the senior picture of Theresa Higgs had also undergone substantial changes. Instead of the dark hair and small breasts she'd previously had, she now had the longer dark blonde hair as well as the clearly more impressively developed bust of the cheerleader. Alan wondered if Thomas - or Theresa as he'd been listed in the yearbook - still remembered being a tomboy on the day that picture was taken.
Somehow he doubted that it could be true. And once Alan saw the name that captioned the girl's picture, he was thoroughly convinced she would neither recall nor ever admit to having been a tomboy. Alan had never yet met - and truly doubted he ever would meet - a busty tomboy with the highly unlikely name of Taffy.
And if that weren't enough to be totally convincing, Taffy Higgs very definitely looked like no other tomboy he'd ever encountered before.
"I was a real babe in high school," smirked Thomas as he gazed at his picture. "Don't you think that's true, Alan?" Thomas stretched his arms out languidly again, before slowly running his hands along the delectable curves of his female body. As he cupped one of his newly enlarged breasts, he began smiling. "Of course you think that's true, Alan. Why wouldn't you?" he smiled sexily. "Those guys you were with that day my senior picture was taken dared you to kiss me. Don't you remember, Alan?" Thomas grinned widely. "But before you could even try kissing me, you ran away like a scared little boy." Thomas turned to face Alan. "You were such a cute little boy. I really don't know why I was having so many problems with this being a girl shit, Alan." Thomas carefully scrutinized his best friend. "I'm sure you must know by now that being a young girl is a helluva lot better than being a really old man... or even dead."
"Is that really you, Thomas?"
"Of course it's me. Who else would I be, silly boy?" With an unmistakably mischievous gleam in his sexy blue eyes, Thomas batted his eyelashes at Alan. "Just what are you doing later tonight, big boy?"
"What are you saying, Thomas?"
"If you're too busy for me, I suppose I'll understand," replied Thomas coyly. "Its just that I'm new in this town; I really want to test out my new equipment. But if you can't find the time for me, then I guess you just can't." Thomas, feeling incredibly more frisky than he had in more years than he could remember, smiled sexily at his best friend. "By the way, Alan, please don't call me Thomas any more. I still know that Thomas is really my name and all that, but I simply just don't feel very much like a Thomas anymore." His smiled grew wider. "You can call me Taffy now. I really like the sound of that name. Don't you, Alan?"
She - it was getting increasingly more difficult for Alan to think of Taffy as a he - is much better than Theresa, thought Alan. He began wondering what it would be like discussing old times with Taffy. And those times when they tired of talking of the past were likely to be more interesting, as well as more frequent, then he'd originally anticipated.
He reached for the new 'El Oroso', knowing that once he closed the yearbook the spell affecting Taffy would finalize. But as he did, Alan noticed that a new photograph had appeared near the annual. Instead of closing the book, he picked up the photograph and looked it over carefully. It definitely wasn't a picture of Taffy Higgs. And yet... if this new photograph did for Taffy what Taffy's photograph had done for Theresa... What the hell, he mused silently. "What do you think of this picture, Taffy?" he asked, as he handed it to his unsuspecting friend.
As Taffy took the picture from Alan, he involuntarily shivered for a moment, perhaps even two, but certainly no more than that. "I didn't know there were any of these still in general circulation," replied Taffy with an decidedly naughty smile. "Where did you ever find this picture of me from my days as an adult film star, Alan? Please don't call it porn; I hate that 'P' word with a passion," giggled Taffy girlishly.
Taffy set the photo down on the still open yearbook in the same way he'd done with the earlier one. He never noticed that the other picture was nowhere to be seen. Alan doubted that Taffy remembered it had ever existed.
At the same time, Alan, not that Taffy seemed to mind, didn't - perhaps couldn't - answer the question. He couldn't concentrate, as he watched something he found far more interesting than answering questions.
Just as before, Taffy apparently didn't notice he was changing in any additional way. His already impressive breasts swelled easily to a D-cup in size and were clearly in the more lofty neighborhood of a pair of 44's, if not even larger. His already overstrained shirt quickly gave way under the increased pressure.
There seemed to be no further contraction of his waist. However, his hair had spurted out another ten to twelve inches, while lightening to a nearly white platinum blond.
Unlike before, his clothes - perhaps prodded in part by his now tattered shirt - had altered this time. His pants had become a tight black leather miniskirt. The remains of his shirt had reformed into a skimpy halter top that revealed a nearly unbelievable amount of cleavage. And he now wore shoes with two inch heels that made him seem that much taller than he really was.
Alan continued staring. Taffy had once more been altered into the woman in a mysterious photograph that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. Alan was now totally convinced that he'd long since lost any conscious control of whatever was going on.
"You're staring at me again, Alan," chided Taffy in a sensual voice that simply reeked of sex. "Or did you ever stop?" he added with a knowing wink. "I know exactly what we should do now," he smiled. "How about you, Alan? Do you wanna go somewhere quiet and fuck for a while?"
"What?" exclaimed Alan. He hadn't been expecting to hear something like that from her - just yet. However, given her earlier admission of being a por - that is, adult film - star, maybe he had on some subconscious level.
"I wanted to know if you wanted to go somewhere quiet and fuck," Taffy repeated calmly. "Although truthfully, it doesn't really need to be all that quiet," he smiled. "Just because I'm really an almost eighty-four-year-old man in this host busty babe body doesn't mean I can't use and enjoy a good fucking every now and again from my best friend." Taffy brushed his hair away from his eyes. "You just have no idea what this is like for me, Alan. I'm feeling so hot and horny right now I just might explode any moment," smiled Taffy wantonly. "And if you don't want to fuck me because you have problems with me having been born male, then I'll understand. I'll just go out and find myself a real man who will." Taffy ran his hand along the curves of his upper body. "That shouldn't be too hard for me to do looking as totally hot and awesome as I do."
Arnie looked at Taffy's yearbook picture. Not surprisingly, the photograph she had looked at had also vanished. And her yearbook photo had also been altered accordingly. The girl's senior picture was now simply a younger version of this new sensual form Taffy had taken right down to the same stunningly wicked impish expression.
"I was such a stunning mischievous total fox when I was younger," he smiled. "Wouldn't you fully agree with my assessment, Alan dear?" But without waiting for his friend to answer, Taffy suddenly pulled Alan closer and laid one squarely on his lips. When the two of them finally separated, Taffy was smiling. "Wanna do that again, sailor?" he asked playfully. That was certainly a lot of fun for me, although I never would have dreamed I'd ever enjoy kissing you, Alan. I hope it was as much fun for you."
"Are you all right, Taffy?"
"Of course I'm all right. Why wouldn't I be, Alan," smiled Taffy impishly. "I just couldn't help myself, you know. I've wanted to kiss you like that since that day my senior picture was taken. Don't you remember how your friends dared you to kiss me that day? I was more than willing to kiss you then, but you fainted dead away right on the spot. I always thought of you as cute and cuddly, but a little too shy for own good, after that."
"I thought you didn't want to be a girl."
"That was earlier, silly. A girl is entitled to change his mind," smiled Taffy. "I just love being a girl now, you know. I mean being a man was fine while I was one, but now I'm not one. If you haven't yet noticed I'm in a hot and sexy girl package." Taffy's smile widened. "You know, you just might say my being a man just got a little too old to be any fun for me any more." Taffy giggled at her small pun, but wasn't upset when Alan failed to crack a smile. "And don't call me Taffy any more either, Alan. I want to be called Twyla. I'm sure you must have seen some of my movies. You know, when they were showing in all the theaters, not on real late night cable TV. They always cut out the good parts in the cable TV versions. I have an awful lot of good parts, you know," he teasingly smiled, "but I'm sure you've never forgotten that."
When Alan looked, he wasn't surprised to see the photograph in the 'El Oroso' had altered once again - it was now clearly labeled Twyla Higgs. He would have been far more surprised if it had said something different.
"Have you got another pent up kiss waiting for your 'old' best friend, Alan?" smiled Twyla playfully, even as he accented the word 'old'. "Or are you simply prejudiced against minorities?"
"Minorities?"
"Of course," replied Twyla. "I'm a totally hot busty young babe, who used to be an octogenarian male. I don't think there can be very many of us running around - I might even be the only one - which definitely qualifies me for minority status. Don't you agree?"
"But Twyla..."
"Don't 'but Twyla' me, Alan Wheeler," he snapped. "Hot busty young babes like me have their needs, you know. It's all in the body, you know. Nothing is really different simply because I happened to be born male over eighty years ago." Twyla suddenly smiled at Alan. "You know something, Alan? I think I've just figured out your whole damn problem. You poor boy. You just haven't got a clue about what it's like being a hot sexy babe like me. And I could never adequately describe what it's like, you know. I think it's something you'd have to discover for yourself, first-hand. If I only had a wish, I'd wish you could know exactly how it feels being a hot sexy babe just like me."
Alan was definitely glad Twyla didn't have that wish. He didn't want to be a girl any more than Thomas had wanted to be one earlier. He was quite satisfied with things just the way they currently were. He didn't think any more improvements in his situation were possible.
However, when Alan looked over in the general location of the annuals again, he was once more surprised to find still another photograph had materialized next to it.
How long would this go on?
What could possibly be done to make Twyla even better than she already was?
Despite what he considered marked improvements as Theresa became Taffy and Taffy in turn became Twyla, Alan still doubted there was anything that could possibly improve her. But the lure of the new photograph was strong. Just in the unlikely case he might have overlooked some potential improvement, he went over and picked up the new photograph so he could take a good look at it.
But as soon as he saw it, Alan realized he'd been right. Even though the girl in the new photograph was even more beautiful and incredibly more buxom than Twyla, she still possessed a couple of major flaws that Alan wasn't prepared to overlook.
Firstly, the girl in the picture was dressed in a white bridal gown with a long flowing train. Alan definitely wasn't ready to be married just yet. He hadn't even had enough time to start playing the field, which was something he had undeniably planned not to miss.
And secondly, the girl was at least six months pregnant. And Alan was clearly even less ready to be called 'Daddy' than he was to get married. As far as Alan was concerned, becoming a father was simply something he could put off for several years.
There was only one possible thing Alan could do. He crumbled the new photograph in his hand, then tossed it into the wastebasket. He reached over and closed the 'El Oroso' in which Twyla's senior picture appeared. Alan breathed a sigh of relief, knowing the spell on Twyla was now irrevocably finalized.
Twyla shivered momentarily. "Oh my," he moaned softly. "What just happened?" he whispered throatily. "Whatever it was, I really hope it happens to me again real soon."
Alan smiled contentedly. Twyla wasn't entirely perfect, but then what girl he'd ever known really had been? However, with all of Thomas' memories of their youth in her head she'd be exceptionally good company whenever he needed her to be. And with Twyla's sensual young body and heightened sexual drives she'd also be an exceptionally entertaining fuck whenever he needed that aspect of her.
However, at that very moment, Barton unexpectedly entered the room unbidden. "Are you ready to conclude our business transaction, Mr. Wheeler?" he asked much to Alan's consternation.
________________________________________
TO BE CONTINUED...
Part 3 of 3
by Bill Hart
The Codicil
"Hi there, Barton," smiled Twyla warmly as he swayed sexily towards the desk. "How do you like the new me, Barton?" Twyla calmly poured himself a drink, then tossed it down as if it were nothing more than spring water before pouring himself another. With a casual grace and minimum of excess motion, he slid back into the plush chair where he'd been so comfortably sitting earlier.
"It's a very marked and becoming improvement I must say, Ms. Higgs," replied Barton in his stuffy manner.
"I should say so." Twyla took a long swig from the glass of Scotch. "I'm young again, not old. Just look at these swell boobies I've got now." He raised himself up from the chair just high enough and long enough to wiggle his butt at the butler. "What do you think of my fine tight ass? Not too bad for pushing eighty-four," he smiled. "Don't you think I'm one really hot blonde babe now, Barton?"
"You are most certainly that, Ms. Higgs."
"Lighten up a little, Barton. You don't need to be so formal," said Twyla. "Now please... you really must call me Twyla. It means 'newly created', you know. And that's just what I am. Isn't it just the most perfect name you can think of for me now."
Barton smiled, then nodded his agreement. "As you wish, Ms. Twyla."
"Not Ms. Twyla, Barton. Just Twyla."
"What the hell is all this shit all about? And why the hell are you still here, Barton?" asked Alan. "I thought our bargain was fully concluded at the time I'd shut that yearbook and finalized Twyla's form."
"Almost, but not quite yet, Master Alan," smiled Barton, dropping his affectations. "There's still one last unfulfilled item of business left on the agenda."
"What the hell can that be?" barked Alan. "My youth was restored. Thomas came here at my invitation. He agreed to the restoration of his youth. And finally, he was transformed into my attractive and busty female companion with all of Thomas' memories intact." Alan stared at Barton. "That's all the terms I remember being in that contract I signed." Alan didn't like that sly conniving look he saw growing in Barton's eyes. In spite of all the precautions he'd taken, Alan wondered if he'd still been somehow tricked.
"I hope you're not talking about that damn soul shit of yours again. Is that what you think remains to be done? I really thought we'd conclusively settled that before I agreed to sign your damned infernal contract in the first place."
"We had," replied Barton. "The possession of your soul as well as any potential legal lien against the same has been specifically excluded ipso facto from the terms of the contract, just as we agreed upon. Although not for lack of trying on my part, your immortal soul is not a part of our bargain, Mr. Wheeler."
"You really are old Beelzebub, aren't you?" exclaimed Twyla. "Somehow I just knew it."
"At your service, Ms. Twyla." Barton bowed gracefully. "You have a most lovely name to be sure now. I shall never tire of speaking it, Ms. Twyla."
"Thank you," he replied sheepishly, even as he stared at Barton. "You lied to me!" Twyla suddenly exclaimed. "You told me earlier that you weren't the devil."
"Really, Ms. Twyla. I'm sure you're not as naive as you're pretending to be," smiled Barton. "Among other things, I'm called the Prince of Lies. And trust me - if you dare - I'm called that for very good reasons. Why should I speak the truth and risk losing business when a small lie - something my client simply wanted to hear regardless - is more than eminently sufficient to guarantee me that business?"
"What about my soul, Barton?" asked Twyla anxiously. "Did Alan save his soul by giving you mine instead?"
"You have no need to worry about that, my dear. Your soul is as safe as Alan's is," replied Barton. "It is not now nor will it ever be a part of his bargain with me."
Twyla's eyes narrowed as he gave Barton a good looking over. "You lied to me before, Barton. How do I know you're not lying to me again? You're not very trustworthy."
Barton smiled at Twyla. "You have a very suspicious mind, my dear. You're definitely a girl after my own heart," he sighed. "It's really rather simple really, young lady. The exclusion of your immortal soul results from the codicil you signed that was subsequently appended, with his prior consent of course, to Alan's original contract. It basically extended those same general protections to your soul - as well as the soul of anyone else who might sign a codicil to Alan's contract at his invitation - as it conferred on him."
"You really agreed to give Alan all of that?"
"I didn't want to, but he didn't give me better choices," said Barton calmly. "Old Arnie was an intelligent and very shrewd bargainer. In fact, he was one of the best I've ever dealt with."
"But Mr. Prince of Lies," began Twyla sarcastically, "you've never been known as someone who honors his contracts."
"I'm crushed, Ms. Twyla. I'm afraid you've cut me to the quick," replied Barton disconsolately. "My contracts are always cast in the finest available stone. Despite the despicably bad press I'm constantly getting, I've always honored my contracts to the letter," he smiled. "However, I'm sure even you must admit that it’s not really my fault if some unexpected loophole carelessly finds it way into the contract. Its those little loopholes that allow me to bend - never break - a few of those letters as I see fit remaining well within the agreed upon contractual parameters." Barton paused to let his words sink in. "You're supposed to read contracts fully before you sign them, you know."
"I read every damn line of my contract, Barton," snarled Alan. "I even went through that abominable fine print you tried sneaking into it that I had you remove before I would sign that contract. I found no loophole in it," boasted Alan.
"That's simply because you left none to be found, Alan," replied with a smile Alan found disconcerting. "That was an extremely impressive demonstration of your negotiating skills. You should know that was the very first time that I've been so cleverly out-negotiated. I believe you've earned yourself a well-deserved place in Hell's Hall of Fame."
"Then just what the hell - I hope you'll pardon the pun - is left to be done in order to conclude our business?"
"There is still the matter of Twyla's wish, of course," stated Barton rather matter of factly."
"What wish?" demanded Alan.
"I really get a wish?" Twyla sounded surprised at this bit of knowledge. "Just how did I manage to get a wish?"
"You didn't read the codicil in its entirety before signing it. Did you, my dear girl?" smiled the devil. "The terms of the codicil included granting you one wish totally free of devilish strings and complications in exchange for your willing and voluntary participation in the fulfillment of Alan's contract."
"I skimmed over it," blushed Twyla. "I don't remember seeing anything about being granted a wish. However, some of the print in it was so teensy weensy I couldn't possibly read it without my reading glasses. And not thinking I'd really need them, I'd left them at home." Twyla looked towards Alan. "You know my eyesight wasn't all that great when I was still Thomas. Those damn cataracts took their toll," she tried explaining. "But if it means anything, I can see like a hawk now."
"I never authorized any wishes be given Twyla, or anyone else for that matter."
"You didn't specifically prohibit the granting of wishes either," smiled Barton. "But as you should well remember, the terms of your contract authorized fair and appropriate compensation to any and all participants willingly engaged in its fulfillment at your behest. Said compensation was to be agreed upon in writing and signed by said participant prior to the codicil's attachment to your contract."
"What of it?" snapped Alan.
"Twyla was a willing participant seeking the fulfillment of your contract. She was invited here by you, as well as invited to become part and party to said contract," explained Barton. "As such, the terms of your contract require Twyla to receive fair and appropriate compensation for her willing services on you behalf."
"Why give her a wish?" asked Alan. "You could have given her just about anything."
"I suppose that's true," replied the devil with that impish smile of his. "However, I felt that granting her one wish was still well within the contractual boundaries of what would be considered fair and appropriate compensation as so stated and agreed upon." His impish smile widened. "If Twyla had felt otherwise, then she simply wouldn't have signed the codicil. But she did. And given that it was pre-authorized by you as codicil to your own contract, you're bound to its conditions as well."
"Fine," snarled Alan, clearly irritated with the way Barton had twisted the terms of his contract to suit him. "Grant her her damn wish and then get the hell out of here."
"The granting of Twyla's wish shall conclude our bargain, Mr. Wheeler. It's been a pleasure doing business with you."
"Yeah, sure," grumbled Alan.
"I really can't believe that I'm actually about to get a wish," said Twyla dreamily. "I wonder what I should wish for. There're so many good things for which I could use a wish."
"You needn't wonder or worry about that. Ms. Twyla," replied Barton. His impish smile had taken a clearly devilish turn. "You've already made your one authorized wish, Ms. Twyla."
"I did? When did I do that, Barton?" Twyla sounded puzzled. "I really don't remember making any wishes."
"When did she make her wish?" added Alan nervously.
"Not all that long ago," replied Barton with that same infuriating smile. "However, just when she made the wish doesn't actually matter here. All that really matters is that the wish has been made after the signing of the codicil, appended to Alan's contract, and duly recorded. All that's left to be done is the physical granting of her wish."
"Oh shit," moaned Alan suddenly, as peculiar feelings began racing throughout his body.
When Twyla turned to see what was troubling Alan, he was taken by surprise at the sight of his friend. Alan's dark hair had already lengthened and thickened considerably. Much as his own hair had done earlier, Twyla watched Alan's hair flow onto and over his shoulders. When it fell across his face, Alan casually brushed it aside with apparent practiced ease.
As Twyla continued watching in awed amazement, Alan began squirming, his body being remolded away from his current masculine form. His waist very noticeably thinned. His butt seemed positively bloated. And twin mounds of unmistakably female flesh swiftly swelled on his chest.
Once the legs of his pants fused together, the newly formed skirt quickly rode up to a spot just above the middle of his thigh. Two long and slender, exquisitely sleek, feminine legs were exposed for everyone to see.
The sleeves of his shirt separated from the rest and fell to the floor, where they vanished. Not far behind the fleeing sleeves were the now equally unnecessary buttons up the front of what had become a pullover tube top. His new top clung so tightly to his only recently developed large pair of breasts that the material clearly outlined his nipples. At the same time, the new top exposed his bared slender tummy for the whole world to see.
"I'm a girl," Alan whispered in stunned amazement after one of his hands discovered his new breasts jutting out from his chest and the other had found the moist slitted mound of his radically altered crotch.
Twyla stared at the transformed former man. "You changed Alan into a girl," he said, clearly stating the obvious, while Alan just continued standing there in stunned silent shock. "Why did you do it, Barton? Why did you change Alan into a girl?"
"That was your wish, Twyla."
"I don't remember anything about wishing Alan was a girl."
"Neither do I," added Alan in a soft feminine voice totally unlike his former male voice."
"Then let me remind both of you." Barton cleared his throat. As he he started to continue, the voice coming from his throat was Twyla's, not his own. "If I only had a wish, I'd wish you could know exactly how it feels being a hot sexy babe just like me." After clearing his throat again, Barton's own voice returned. "You wished Alan could know how it felt being a hot sexy babe like you. How else could he ever find out what it’s like - since you had already confessed your inadequacy of describing those feelings to him - unless he actually became a hot sexy babe just like you?"
"That kind of makes sense, Barton." Twyla swept his blonde hair from his eyes. "But you really could have waited until after he'd fucked me," he pouted. "Alan was really going to fuck me, you know. But he can't now that you've changed him into a girl. Even worse, I'll have to go out and find another guy - some stranger most likely. And on top of everything else, I'll have to worry about my new guy liking Alan more than he likes me."
"Wow! Would you get a load of these boobs I've got now," smiled Alan. His dainty hands had first cupped and were now gently caressing his own large mammaries. "I've always liked having busty girls around, but I never knew having my own pair of boobies would feel anywhere near as good. If this it what it feels like being a girl, Twyla, I can understand why you love being one. I really like this feeling - I really love it a whole helluva lot."
Barton smiled. He really loved it when a plan came together like this. He doubted that smartass Alan even knew what had just hit him. It was always so much fun building people like him up before tearing them down again. Twyla's wish had essentially made Alan a girl just like her. Given how much Twyla loved being female and everything female about herself now, how could Alan have possibly hoped to feel any differently?
With a decidedly exaggerated feminine sway to his walk, Alan strolled over to his desk. Although he wasn't exactly sure why he was doing it, Alan picked up the newer 'El Oroso' and quickly flipped through its pages. Seemingly quite pleased, he smiled when he stopped at the page he'd been seeking and saw his picture. "I just knew it!" he exclaimed. "Even back in high school, I was one incredibly hot babe."
"And you still are, Alaina," smiled Barton, referring to the formerly named Alan with the more appropriate name that now captioned her yearbook's senior picture.
"That's a really nice name," said Twyla, hoping his best friend would enjoy being the girl she'd become as much as he did. "I like it, Alaina."
"Thank you, Twyla." He hoped she would remain his best friend, even though he'd become a girl just like her. "I rather like it myself."
"I think I should be on my way. I believe my work here is done," said Barton. "But I'll be keeping a watchful eye on the two of you for a little while. You never can tell when my contractually bound maintenance services will be required."
"Before you go, Barton, there's something that's been bothering me."
"And what might that be, Twyla dear?"
"I'm not complaining; I'm just curious," replied Twyla. "Why didn't you claim our immortal souls?" he asked the devil. "I mean you certainly had the perfect opportunity to do that once I signed that damned codicil to Alaina's contract."
"I'd been wondering about that myself," smiled Alaina. As he continued fondling his new breasts, he was thoroughly fascinated by the flood of intriguing sensations inundating in his body.
Barton smiled broadly; it was a question he'd been expecting. "I must admit I was tempted to do just that. I'm sure both of you know or could guess, that I've never really enjoyed being beaten at my own game. However, even though I'm somewhat loathe to admit it, Arnie played by my rules and still won the game fairly. Besides, my own common sense finally prevailed in the matter." Not too surprisingly, Barton saw looks of confusion exchanged between the two former men.
"I'm afraid I don't understand." Twyla exchanged glances again with Alaina.
"And neither do I."
"It's not really that difficult a concept to grasp, girls," smiled Barton, his face reddening slightly as a small pair of horns sprouted painlessly from his forehead. "Why should I simply settle for just your two souls when there's so much more available? With your hot new female bodies, the two of you make exceptionally enticing temptresses. Among those who see you now, you're bound to make men stray as well as incite women to jealous, perhaps even deadly, rages. The potential return from my investment in not claiming your two souls is simply too staggering to ignore. It's only fair that you know that those bigoted hypocrites in that other place I won't mention by name don't record anywhere near as many sin points when that alleged sin is committed with or against one of the soulless."
"That was devilishly clever of you, Barton," replied Twyla.
"Yes, I know," replied the devil. "But it’s just a part of my nature." It was hard to tell if Barton was blushing or merely regaining more of his natural devilish color. "Besides, after your sexy young bodies begin aging in a short few thousand years or so, I just might be able to harvest your souls fairly and squarely. Isn't that just a horribly repulsive thought?
"You're nothing but a damn trickster."
"So I've been told a few million times, Alaina. But I certainly never tire of receiving such a flattering compliment. That should be worth a few hellish points come merit review time." Barton smiled at them. "I'm not really Beezelbub; I was lying about that earlier. I'm really his cousin Barzelton, apprentice demon 4th class."
"You really must stop lying to us, Barton."
"Perhaps. But now I really must be on my way, girls. It's been a lot of fun, but I've got scores of other clients waiting impatiently - at least I hope they're impatient - to see me." He waved to the girls. "There's one last thing. If at some later date you can think of another of your friends you'd like to add to your contract, Alaina, I'll be than willing to oblige. Just call out my name Barzelton and I'll come see you as soon as I possibly can."
There was an audible pop in the air and Barton - or Barzelton, since he now looked more like the demon he was than the gentleman's gentleman he'd been - vanished in a puff of smoke that quickly dispersed leaving behind only a faint smell of brimstone wafting about the room.
"I thought he'd never leave, Laini."
"That's just what I was thinking, Twy."
"What do you want to do tonight?" Twyla asked his best friend.
"I don't know. What do you want to do?" replied Alaina to his best friend's question.
"I don't really know either. All things being equal, I really wouldn't mind going out and getting a good fucking right now - the devil knows I deserve it," sighed Twyla. "However, I'm afraid we've got some really tough decisions coming up we'll have to face more sooner than later."
"What do you mean, Twy?"
"For one thing, we no longer have the medical insurance we had as old men. And with these hot young sexy female bodies, I kind of doubt MediCare is going to believe either of us is male or anywhere near our former octogenarian status."
"I'm sure they won't," sighed Alaina. "You should have heard all those really cranky people at the Social Security office when I went in to tell them to send my checks to Alan instead of Arnie. Would you believe they actually yelled at me, Twy. It was horrible. But they really hurt my feelings when they told me they'd have me arrested for fraud if I didn't leave immediately and never come back until I was really old enough to collect Social Security." Alaina crossed his arms under his breasts. "It's not really fair, you know. I worked hard for better than sixty years and paid into their damn system the whole damn time. I wasn't trying to cheat anybody. I was only looking to receive what was rightfully mine. It shouldn't make any difference that I'm a twenty-something-year-old babe instead of some old octogenarian fart."
"Shit!" exclaimed Twyla. "That probably means I've seen the last of my pension checks. I sure don't look like Thomas Higgs anymore and nobody there would know me from Adam - better make that Eve - now. They probably wouldn't even believe I'm Thomas' next of kin anymore than they'd believe I was really Thomas. Knowing those incompetent twits running the retirement program, I doubt they'd even believe we're related even if I could somehow prove it."
"With no money coming in, we're going to have trouble keeping up the payments on this place, Twy."
"Why didn't you have Barton include this place, free and clear, in your contract, Laini?"
"I didn't think about it at the time."
"Then we're just going to have get jobs, Laini. And that could pose a few problems. As hot and sexy as we look, I'm sure no one is going to believe we know anything about anything."
"I don't think that's quite true, Twy." Alaina lightly ran his hand along his lower rib cage. "I'm convinced there's one thing everyone will think we know everything about."
"I hadn't thought about that option," replied Twyla. "It might be a fun occupation for us, but do you really think we can make enough money doing that?"
"I wouldn't be surprised," smiled Alaina. "And it certainly wouldn't hurt if we could find a little more help."
"An interesting idea, Laini. What do you think about asking Harry Miller for a little help?"
"Harry Miller?" snapped Alaina. "He's a fucking asshole. You've got to be kidding about asking him for help." He shook his head slowly. "It just wouldn't work. I know he's got tons and tons of money, which would help us out a lot if we could only get our hands on it. But he's a stingy tightwadded bastard that's pushing a hundred."
"I know all that, Laini." A broad smile quickly spread across Twyla's face. "But as long as I've known him he's always considered himself God's gift to young girls. And as you well know, we really fit rather nicely into that category now even if we did get our hot young bodies from the other side."
"But Harry Miller? There really must be a better way than asking Harry Miller," replied Alaina. "He has more wrinkles than you can find in a box of prunes. As much as I enjoy getting laid, I don't think I'd be able to stomach him touching me." He made a gagging motion with his hand. "And you know if we offered to have sex with him, he'd take us up on the offer quicker than we could spit in his eye." He wondered if Twyla could endure having Harry's withered old body touching his in any way. "If it will save this house, I suppose I can grin and bear having sex with him just once." He shuddered at the thought of sex with Harry Miller. "But I'll be constantly afraid he'll just up and die on us, Twy. We'd have hell to pay - no pun intended - if Harry were to die in one of our beds while he was fucking one or both of us."
"That's probably true." Twyla grinned at his friend. "But at his age I really doubt he can still get it up without ingesting a ton of Viagra." The girls laughed. "However, I had something else in mind for Harry," he smiled. "I was thinking we could offer to restore his youth. We could tell him that in exchange for paying off the balance due on our house, we'd let him move in here with us once his youth was returned. We could also sweeten the pot by telling him he could have all the sex he wanted after he moved in with us."
"You sly little minx," smiled Alaina. "That's a fantastic plan. I'll bet that dumb old fart will jump at the chance."
"I'm sure he will."
"Do you think he'll like becoming a young girl?"
"Probably not at first, Laini, but you know how we were right after we first became girls."
"I certainly do," smiled Alaina. "It's hard to imagine I didn't like the idea of being a girl at first." He cradled one of his breasts, before adding with a grin, "But the idea obviously grew on me."
"Besides, you know as well as I do that Harry's always been overly practical in his affairs. Just as we did, I'm sure he'll become more amenable to being a girl once he realizes that being a hot and sexy twenty-three-year-old babe is far more superior to remaining a male nearly centenarian old fart."
"Keeping in that vein, Twy, we might also want to see if Bert Johnson might be interested in regaining his long lost youth. I really think four girls living in this house might be somewhat better than just two or three."
"You might be right about that, Laini. But isn't Bert married?" asked Twyla. "Call me old-fashioned, but I'm sure his wife won't be very happy suddenly married to a young girl who could more easily be her granddaughter than her husband."
"Hadn't you heard?"
"Heard what?"
"Ruth died a couple of weeks ago. Cancer, I think," replied Alaina. "The last time I saw Bert he was so depressed and despondent that I've been worrying about him constantly. I've been really afraid he'd do something stupid." He smiled mischievously a Twyla. "But I really think a major change in his life is just what he needs right about now."
"That would be a nice thing for us to do," smiled Twyla. "However, if four girls living here would be better than three, what do you say about an even dozen... at least for a start."
"Even better, Twy. With a dozen girls, we might not even need old Harry Miller's money."
"I wouldn't go that far, Laini. It's always better to have too much money than not enough."
"And we would be doing the world a big favor. After all the people Harry has fucked to get ahead, I think it's long past due that he got fucked in return."
"But you'll have to call them, Laini. Barton said their immortal souls would be protected just like ours, if they signed a codicil to your contract at your invitation."
"This should be fun, Twy. Which one should I call first?"
"It doesn't really matter," replied Twyla. Except for Harry and his overabundant supply of working capital, any of the old geezers we know are just as good as any of the others. We might even wind up with more than a dozen volunteers." Twyla paused for a moment. He seemed lost in thought. "On the other hand, I was just thinking that those phone calls could wait until sometime later tomorrow."
"Are you thinking what I'm thinking you're thinking," grinned Alaina.
"I wouldn't be at all surprised." Twyla grinned at his busty friend.
"I'm kind of new at this," replied Alaina. "I wonder just where we'll have to go in order to pick ourselves up a couple of handsome hunks for the night?"
"I really don't know," sighed Twyla. "I've never had any great need or desire to go out looking for guys - handsome or otherwise - before now. But I'm so hot and horny right now I'm sure I'll learn whatever I need to learn quickly enough."
"Tell me something I don't already know, girl," replied Alaina. "I know exactly what you mean about being feeling hot and horny. If I don't get a real man in me soon... I don't what I'll what do, but I know it won't be pretty."
"We could try the mall, Laini. When I was still a guy I always went looking for hot babes at the mall."
"So did I, Twy. Although there were several times I couldn't remember exactly why I went looking for them." Alaina smiled. "I don't think I'll be having that problem tonight."
"And I really doubt there'll be any hotter babes there for the guys to choose from than us."
"You got that right, Twy. Let's blow this joint and head for the mall."
"I with you, Laini. And while we're at it, let's agree right here and now that we're taking no prisoners."
"That's fine with me, Twy. You got yourself a deal. I really doubt any guy will know what hit them once we stroll into and through their lives."
Having decided where they needed to go, the two young girls headed off for the mall. They were clearly best friends, just as they'd been their entire lives.
But all those strangers they passed along the way would have been surprised if they could have somehow known that friendship spanned better than eighty years. They might have been even more surprised at finding out the two busty twenty-something babes were actually men. Of course, even though they clearly remembered their former lives as men, being or having been male, except as experiences to be drawn on when and if necessary, no longer really mattered to either of them in any way overly important.
When the girls finally reached the mall, each of them was sporting a mischievously playful smile on his pretty face.
And in a hellish unhallowed hallway, an apprentice demon fourth class smiled, even though he would frenetically deny it.
Ken felt attracted to Pete--well, not that way!
At least, not at first...
Part 1 - Kara
And yet, here he was. For some strange reason he couldn't begin to understand, he'd left his condo, wandered around aimlessly for over an hour, and finally ended up here. As strange and impossible as it seemed to Ken, something he couldn't hope to resist seemed to be drawing him here.
Just then he saw the large multi-storied house looming before him.
Ken stared at the house. Even though the huge house seemed somewhat familiar to Ken, he was certain he'd never seen this particular house before. How could he? He'd never been in this neighborhood before. At least, he didn't think he had. But at the same time, he somehow knew this was the very place that was somehow drawing him here. And without really knowing how or why, he knew this place was right where he was supposed to be.
Slowly and cautiously, Ken went up to the door. Although he had no idea who - or possibly even what - he should expect to answer, Ken knocked on the door.
After several minutes had passed, the door swung slowly open.
"Ken Rawlings!" exclaimed a very surprised, not to mention apparently disappointed, Pete Quinlan. "What the hell are you doing in this neck of the woods?"
Ken stared at Pete. They'd gone to high school together, but aside from their reunion a few weeks ago, Ken hadn't seen Pete in years. "To be honest, Pete, I don't really know. I didn't even know you lived in this neighborhood," replied Ken. "I know this will sound strange, but I can't really explain it any other way. For some strange unknown reason, I somehow seemed to be drawn to your house tonight."
"You actually think you were drawn here?"
"Odd as it sounds, that was just what I just said. Wasn't it?"
"Are you sure?"
"Why would I ever make something up as stupid-sounding as that?"
"I'm sure you wouldn't, Ken. It's just that... you're not quite who I was expecting to come knocking on my door tonight."
"What do you mean?"
"Why don't you come inside, Ken? I think we need to talk," replied Pete. "I don't really know how or even why it happened, but you apparently came here in answer to the summoning spell I cast."
As he entered the house, Ken looked around the room he'd just entered, but what he saw made little sense to him. There were smoking candles sitting at the points of a large pentagram inscribed within a circle. "Summoning spell?" muttered Ken. "Just what the hell are you talking about, Pete?"
"It's probably not important now," replied Pete. "It obviously didn't work the way I thought it would."
"What didn't work?" asked a very puzzled Ken. "I still haven't the foggiest idea what you're talking about."
"It's a little complicated. It's also a rather long story."
"I seem to have plenty of time to listen," said Ken. "Maybe that's why I'm here."
"Perhaps," replied Pete, although his tone of voice clearly implied he didn't believe that explanation. "If you want to listen to my story, that's fine with me. How about I get us something to drink first?"
"Sure. Why not?"
"What would you like?"
"Have you got any root beer?" asked Ken. "I sure could use a good old-fashioned root beer right about now."
"Root beer?" Pete stared oddly at Ken for a long moment. "As a matter of fact, I just bought some root beer earlier this afternoon." Pete motioned towards the chair. "Have a seat, Ken. I'll be back in a few minutes."
Ken wondered what strange yarn Pete had to spin. For as long as he'd known him, Pete had always made up stories because he thought it made him look important. It was probably that same need that had forced him to buy this large house.
As he looked around the room again, Ken wondered what the pentagram actually meant. Maybe this wasn't just another of Pete's tall tales. But if it wasn't, then what strange things could Pete really be up to? After sitting down in the chair, Ken wondered what Pete had meant about casting some kind of occult summoning spell. But why would he use something weird like that to summon him here? They'd never been what Ken considered friends. However, if Pete had actually used his spell to summon him, then why had he been so surprised when he showed up at his door? "I'm sure this must be one long, really weird, tall tale," mumbled Ken. "It might turn out to be one of his best."
When Pete finally returned, he was holding two mugs of foaming root beer. "I hope you like this brand." He held out one of the mugs to Ken, who quickly took it. "It's a new brand," smiled Pete. "But I was told by an unimpeachable source that it's an excellent brew."
"You haven't tried any of this yourself?"
"Not yet. As I said earlier, I just bought it this afternoon," replied Pete. "I guess we'll find out together if it's anywhere near as good as advertised."
"I suppose so." Cautiously, Ken took a small sip. "Wow!" he exclaimed as a wide grin quickly crossed his face. "I don't know who told you this was an excellent brew." He raised the mug to his lips and quickly guzzled its remaining contents down. "It's far superior to merely excellent." Ken looked down at his now empty mug. "If it's not a problem, I certainly wouldn't mind having a refill."
"I'll be damned," muttered Pete.
"Probably true - knowing you," replied Ken. "That sure as hell wouldn't surprise me." He looked at his empty mug again. "So do I get that refill now?" he asked expectantly. "Or would you rather tell me your story first?"
"We'll see. But first, there's something I need to check out." Pete stared at Ken. "Please set your mug down on the end table."
Although he seemed visibly surprised by his action, Ken swiftly set his empty mug down on the table.
"This is quite interesting," smiled Pete. "Now I'd like you to stand up." He paused for a moment. "And do five jumping jacks."
As quickly as before, Ken rose from the chair. "What the hell am I doing?" he muttered, once he started doing the jumping jacks and even though he clearly tried stopping, he simply couldn't until after he'd completed the fifth and final one Pete had requested. Then, when he tried sitting down again, Ken found he still couldn't.
"Absolutely amazing. It seems to be working after all," muttered Pete. "Go over there and stand inside that pentagram. But please be very careful not to break any of the chalk lines." Ken began walking towards the pentagram. "And once you're inside, stay there until I tell you that you can leave."
Although Ken clearly had no idea what Pete was doing or how Pete could be controlling him, he entered the pentagram, making certain not to step on any of the lines. He couldn't break one of the lines even though that was something he really wanted to do.
"What the hell is going on, Pete?" As he tried to leave the pentagram, Ken discovered to his surprise and consternation that his muscles were totally unwilling to do his bidding.
"Although I'm not entirely certain I totally believe what's going on, everything has occurred as I was told it would," replied Pete. "I kind of doubt you'll believe any of what I'm about to tell you. In any event, I think the time has come to begin telling you my story. And whatever else you might want to do, please don't interrupt me."
Pete struck a match and lit one of the candles sitting on the points of the pentagram.
"I'm sure you must know Julie, my wife of the last fifteen years, and I finally called it quits a few weeks ago. It was the talk of the reunion. It was a horrible experience and, as you might well imagine, I was totally devastated by it."
Pete struck another match and lit another candle.
"This morning I had a really strange experience. I met this peculiar old gypsy woman who knew exactly what had happened between me and Julie. I don't know why she did it, but she gave me this summoning spell and all the requisite instructions for invoking it. She told me if the spell were cast correctly that it would summon into my presence the one I most wanted to see. By now, I'm sure even you can figure out why I was greatly surprised and totally disappointed when you showed up at my door."
Pete paused again to strike another match and to light another candle.
"But that old gypsy woman must have suspected - gypsies are gifted with second sight, you know - something might wind up being amiss. Otherwise, why would she have given me that potion of obedience? And why would she have told me to serve it in the root beer my summoned guest would request? But I'm not altogether certain that this was quite what she had in mind."
The fourth candle was lit, once another match was struck.
"However, she also gave me yet another spell that I could use in case I wasn't totally pleased with the object of the summoning spell. And you'd better believe me when I tell you that I was very definitely not pleased it was you who had come calling."
He struck another match then lit the fifth and final candle.
"But, as I said before, I'm still not sure that this was what she had in mind. I really don't have any idea how this spell could make you more pleasing to me. To be honest, I was really expecting Julie to show up in answer to the summons, just as that old gypsy woman herself must have been thinking. I was figuring this spell I'm now about to cast on you would do nothing more than simply change her mind about our final breakup."
Pete looked up at Ken, as he stood within the circumscribed pentagram.
"You look like you might have a question or two. You may ask them if you like. But please try to remain calm."
"What will this do to me?" Ken asked nervously.
"To be perfectly honest, I don't have the slightest idea. That old hag didn't really tell me what it might do to whoever was standing within the pentagram when the spell was cast," replied Pete. "But I really think finding out should be very interesting. I just hope it doesn't make you fall madly in love with me, since you're really not my type," he grinned. "I have my reputation with the ladies to protect. How could I ever hope to explain having some scrawny guy like you following around after me with those lost puppy dog eyes?"
"Then why are you doing this?"
"Why shouldn't I?" replied Pete. "I'm very curious about what might happen to you. It should make another great story that no one will ever believe." Pete smiled briefly. "Besides, this is really all your own fault, Ken. You got in the way. You were never intended to be the one I summoned here tonight."
With that, Pete invoked the spell.
But nothing seemed to happen...at first.
Ken's eyes slowly glazed over.
As Pete continued watching, Ken appeared to be shrinking. In a very short span of time, instead of the two of them standing eye to eye as they had for several years, Pete now looked down a good half-foot at the shorter Ken.
"That was pretty much a waste of a spell," Pete muttered. "He wasn't very pleasing before so why would losing six or seven inches of height make him any more pleasing. The damn wuss wasn't much of a man before and now he's even less of one."
Suddenly, as if he were having trouble breathing, Ken began taking increasingly deeper and deeper breaths. His scrawny frame soon began filling out in ways Pete had never imagined possible. With each new gasp of breath he took, Ken's chest seemingly expanded more than the time before. What Pete found particularly interesting was the fact that with each complementary exhalation Ken's chest never returned to the same size it had been before.
His shirt, although clearly losing the battle to adequately cover his expanding chest, also seemed to be continually reforming with each new breath Ken took.
His waist thinned noticeably.
His ass billowed.
His entire body became more rounded, and increasingly more curvy.
A mass of jet-black hair suddenly spurted from his scalp and flowed out onto to his shoulders.
"This certainly wasn't something I ever expected to happen," mumbled Pete, as he stared in growing awe at the shapely raven-haired beauty Ken had become.
And yet, very clearly this spell he'd cast wasn't quite finished with Ken.
As impossible as it all seemed to Pete, Ken now appeared to be getting younger.
What little remained of his former shirt that now just barely contained his bountiful new assets swiftly shifted into a form far more capable of restraining his large new breasts. And yet, the altered shirt still managed to display plenty of his newly gained and quite enticing cleavage.
The legs of his pants fused seamlessly together, then split upwards to his knees along their former outer seam to reveal long and slender, slinky legs.
Suddenly, Ken seemed to grow a few inches taller. But his spurt of apparent growth was only because his shoes, in reforming to a shape more appropriate to their wearer, had grown three-inch heels.
The flames burning from each candle suddenly surged.
But after only a moment of brilliance, the flames just as quickly dispersed. As the last of the radiance finally faded, Pete noted that the pentagram, the circle in which it had been inscribed, and the five spent candles had all vanished.
With his awareness slowly returning, Ken just stood there shaking his head, while his raven colored hair swished wildly about his head. "What the hell just happened to me," he mumbled, in a soft voice clearly no longer one of a male. Slowly lifting his hand to his face, Ken stared at it in disbelief. "This isn't possible, he muttered." But despite all his protestations, his hand was clearly smaller than he remembered it being. Not only that, but his fingers had become long and slender. And his fingernails had also grown longer and were painted with clear nail polish. Ken turned angrily towards Pete. "What the hell have you done to me?"
"Isn't it obvious?" grinned Pete.
Without thinking about what he was doing, Ken slapped Pete's face... rather hard.
"What the hell did you do that for?" asked a very surprised Pete, as he rubbed his aching jaw. "You could have broken my jaw hitting me as hard as you did. All I meant was, isn't it obvious you're female now?"
Ken stared angrily at Pete. "I slapped your face because if I'd made a fist and slugged you, as I'd wanted to do, I would have probably broken one of my nails." As he realized just what he'd said, Ken, feeling suddenly confused, shook his head. "Just what the hell was that crack about me being obviously female? Whatever you think your damn spell did to me, I don't feel any different than I did before."
Pete looked surprised by Ken's last comment. With a body like he now possessed, how could Ken not feel different than before? "I think it would be better if I showed you." Pete casually slid his arm around Ken's now slimmer waist.
"Remove that damn arm from my waist immediately!" demanded Ken coldly. "Or would you rather I break it off at the shoulder?"
As if bitten by a snake, Pete quickly gave in to Ken's demand. "Just go look in that mirror over there." Pete watched as Ken swayed sexily over to the mirror as if he'd always walked that same way, as well as on the three-inch heels, for several years.
As soon as Ken saw his reflection, he gasped in stunned surprise. "What the hell are these things doing here?" he queried, even as he gently hefted one of his new large breasts.
"Isn't it obvious?" asked Pete warily, not really wanting to be slapped again. "They're female breasts," he replied once he'd joined Ken in front of the mirror. "Or, if you'd rather, you can take your pick from among boobs, tits, knockers, gazongas, or any one of several other terms I can think of that mean the same thing."
"But they're so damn big," remarked Ken. "At the very least, I'll bet they're a good 48EE." He shook his head. "Just what the hell are these big boobs doing hanging from my chest as if they belong there?"
"As I told you before, they do belong there now," smiled Pete. "Apparently that spell the old gypsy witch gave me turned you into a girl for some strange reason."
Ken stared at Pete and then at his reflection. "But I don't want to be a girl."
"Why not? You're one very pretty young girl," said Pete with an admiring smile. "Based on your former scrawny male self that was the same age as me, I would have never believed it remotely possible that you had the makings of such an attractive young girl inside you."
"Very funny. Ha, Ha," snapped Ken. However, another quick look at his image in the mirror only served as more confirmation for what Pete had just told him. He was pretty...very pretty. And the way his jet-black hair framed his young angelic face only seemed to highlight his new feminine beauty. "Even though that might be true, I still don't want to be a girl."
"I really don't see why not," smiled Pete. "It's just that you're so young and very beautiful now." Pete slipped his arm around Ken's shoulder.
"If you don't take that damn arm of yours off my shoulder right this instant, I'm going to yank it right out of its socket and toss it to the ground."
"I'm sure you don't really mean that," replied Pete. However, with discretion being the better part of valor and not being entirely certain that Ken might have actually meant it, he removed his arm from Ken's soft shoulder. "I love you, Ken," he suddenly proclaimed.
"You love me?" snarled Ken. "I think you're one really sick puppy, Pete." Ken slowly shook his head. "Just in case you've forgotten - although I don't know how you possibly could - I'm really another guy despite my current physical appearance." With a casual stroke of his hand, Ken easily brushed his hair away from his face. "And besides, what about you and your wife Julie? Didn't you do this for her?"
"What about me and Julie?" snapped Pete. "After fifteen years of marriage, she up and left me for that asshole down the street Dirk Andrews. But that's all right with me. Now that I've found you, I've decided it's time for me to move on to greener pastures. Even you must know that as you are now you're absolutely perfect for me." Pete continued leering. "I think that old gypsy woman really knows her shit. Don't you agree, Ken?"
Ken, visibly angry, glared at Pete. "If that old gypsy battle-axe of yours knows her shit as well as you say she does, then she probably knows a counterspell that will turn me back into me. Wouldn't you think so, Pete?"
"It's highly likely," agreed Pete with a smile. "However, with all the other things taken into consideration, just what does that have to do with anything else?"
"I want you to take me to see her," demanded Ken.
"Why would I want to do something like that?"
"Even to you, isn't what I have in mind obvious?"
Pete's smile rapidly faded. "You can't possibly mean that."
"Of course I can. How many times must I tell you I don't want to be a girl?"
"That's tough," replied Pete. "I'm not taking you anywhere near her."
"If you don't do what I want, then I might just have to hurt you."
"You wouldn't dare," smiled Pete. "But then, unless you were to try smothering me in your boobs - what a marvelous way to go - I doubt you could purposely hurt a fly."
"Wanna bet on it, asshole?" replied Ken with a menacing grin.
Pete swallowed nervously. "Okay then, you win. Why don't you grab your purse? And then, we'll go see if we can find her."
"What the hell do you mean 'grab my purse'?" asked Ken. "I don't own a purse; I've never owned a purse."
"You must," replied Pete. "Although if it's not yours, then I'm not sure from where it came. It's still sitting there on the end table near the chair where you were sitting. It's unmistakably a woman's purse. And that simply means it's just as unmistakably not mine. Since you're the only other person in the room, I must therefore conclude - given your current female condition - the purse must be yours."
"But it can't be mine," objected Ken. "I've never owned..." His voice trailed away as he curiously opened the purse and found the ladies' wallet inside. No sooner had he opened the wallet, then Ken gasped at the ID he found inside.
"What's wrong now?"
"It's this drivers' license." He quickly flashed the ID at Pete. "I don't understand. It has a picture of me... that is, it has a picture of this girl me I am now." Even though he didn't want to believe any of this weird shit going on, did he have another choice? "But it's made out in the name Kara Roberts. It also says I'm twenty years old, which is not quite half the age I was before you cast your stupid spell."
"Kara? That's a pretty name. And it certainly fits you a lot better than Ken." Pete began smiling. "Maybe you were simply meant to be her all along. I've read stories about this, you know. I'll bet everyone you ever knew, other than me of course, thinks of you as Kara Roberts. It's also a safe bet they never heard of anyone named Ken Rawlings."
"But that can't be true," argued Ken. "I know I'm not this Kara Roberts, because I know I'm really Ken Rawlings. I know I'm not female for the simple reason I know I'm male."
"You're just a little confused," grinned Pete. "But perhaps I can help you out after all."
"Are you going to take me to see your old gypsy woman?"
"I'm afraid that's no longer real high on my list of priorities, my dear." Pete reached into his pocket. "I don't know why I didn't remember it until just now, but the old gypsy gave me this odd little bauble to use in case I still had trouble with you after casting that last spell." Very slowly, Pete took a large red crystal from his pocket. As he held out the crystal for Ken to see, Pete smiled. "The gypsy woman told me I'd only know how to use this gem if and when the time came." His smile widened. "I guess that time must have come because I know exactly what to do with this now."
Ken couldn't take his eyes away from the crystal in Pete's hand. He kept looking increasingly deeper into the heart of the bauble. "It's so very pretty and sparkly." But as he continued staring at the gem, his thoughts dulled and his eyes slowly glazed over.
Pete couldn't keep from smiling as he looked at the entranced young girl. Although he knew what he was doing must be done, he still wasn't entirely certain he understood why it must be done. All he knew was how important it was that Kara be as she was meant to be.
"You will completely forget about being someone named Ken Rawlings. You are not male now. You have never been male. And you have never wanted to be male in your entire life." The crimson crystal began glowing. "You are female now. You have always been female. And you have never wanted to be other than female. You will only remember being Kara Roberts, my hot sexy young girlfriend."
Satisfied with his commands, Pete slipped the crystal back into his pocket. As he did, the girl, no longer entranced by the gem, moaned softly then shook her head slowly.
"How are you feeling now, Kara?" asked Pete as he once again slid his arm around the girl's slim waist.
A mischievous smile quickly spread across the girl's face. "I'm sure you know I'm feeling really hot and horny, you handsome hot stud." She wriggled about in his grasp in order to face Pete, slid her own slender arms around his neck, rubbed her body against his, and kissed him as if she were auditioning for the lead role in 'The Life and Times of a Hoover Vacuum Cleaner'.
"Wow!" exclaimed Pete, even as his knees buckled slightly. "I would have never guessed you had that locked up inside you."
Kara looked Pete over from head to toe. "I know something else I want inside me, my manly hulky hunk," she grinned mischievously. "What do you say we go straight to your room? I'm sure we can be a lot more comfortable there."
Kara's mother shows up; is Pete in for some in-law trouble?
by Bill Hart
As the sun shone in through the bedroom window, Kara kept smiling while she watched Pete continue to sleep. "Isn't he just so cute," she whispered softly, not wanting to disturb him. "I think it's a real shame I wore him out last night." But then, Kara knew boys always wore out so quickly. She'd long ago discovered that boys had nowhere near the sexual staying power of girls. "I certainly wouldn't have minded the two of us going at it hot and heavy for another lively couple of rounds this morning."
Of course, Kara also knew it was probably her fault she'd worn poor Pete out last night. After all, she'd been wearing out boys like him in a similar fashion ever since she'd first discovered just how much fun they could be in her bed. She just loved having sex; there was nothing else like it. Besides, she was a lot younger than Pete. She was only twenty and Pete was clearly in his late thirties or possibly his early forties.
How could such an old man like Pete possibly hope to keep up with her and her youthful exuberance?
And it had been so very long since she'd last had sex with a man. Kara knew she'd been horny enough last night to easily exhaust a whole garrison of French Legionnaires, who hadn't seen any women in years. It was certainly no wonder Pete was so completely worn out. After all, he was only one man - it was very likely he'd just sleep for the next several weeks - and she was a supercharged sexual dynamo. Too bad, thought Kara, who was already pondering who might replace Pete as her lover until he awakened again.
Even though Pete might disagree with her, Kara also knew it wasn't really his fault she was feeling so horny. The poor wonderful fool had unknowingly opened that backdoor to the spell that slimy wizard bastard she'd once dated had cast to imprison her in male flesh and prevent her from regaining her true gender with each new incarnation. That had been so many lifetimes ago that she couldn't exactly remember when she'd last lain with a man. But she knew it had been a very, very long time. Once she'd become female in mind as well as in body again, her need for a sexual outlet last night had simply become overwhelming. And fortunately for her, a very eager and overly willing Pete Quinlan had been there to satisfy her every long unsatisfied itch.
There was just no way in hell she'd ever allow herself to be trapped in male flesh again. Having been male for several lifetimes - not that she could have done anything about changing it - had been a horrible experience and so demeaning. And that last one - that wussy wimp Ken Rawlings - had certainly been one of the worst men she'd ever been.
As Kara turned, she saw her naked self reflected back at her from the mirror.
"Damn, I'm one really hot babe!" she smiled. "I just love this long hair." She shook her head slowly sending her raven tresses swirling. A hand cupped one of her large breasts. "However, I think these could have definitely been a little smaller." She turned her attention towards the still slumbering Pete. "Nothing has really changed in all these years I've been locked away in male flesh. You silly boys and your superbusty girl fantasies are still all the same." As she returned her attention to the mirror, Kara grinned. "And yet, the boys have always been attracted to me. I'll bet with all this new bait I've got now, I'll be able to hook and land any boy I want whenever I want him." She looked over at Pete again and wished once again he would awaken. There was just something about him - she didn't exactly know what it might be - that she just found utterly fascinating.
Kara went over to the spot where her and Pete's clothes were intermixed in a heap on the floor. She rummaged through the pockets of Pete's pants until she found the item she was looking for. "You won't be needing this ever again," she told the sleeping Pete, as she held up the large red crystal. "Since you probably won't remember, I'll have to see about returning this to your old gypsy woman. I'll also have to thank her for her part in springing me from my former prison of male flesh. I doubt she meant you to keep something as powerful as this little bauble." Kara popped the gem into her purse. And after sliding casually back into her clothes, she took another look in the mirror. "I think I need to go shopping for some new clothes," she mumbled.
The doorbell unexpectedly rang.
"I wonder who that might be? Was it possible that Pete was expecting someone else to arrive this morning? What will they do when a young hot babe like me answers his door instead of him?"
But when Kara slowly opened the door, she was surprised to find an old woman standing at the threshold. Suddenly, it dawned on Kara who this old woman must be. "You're Pete's old gypsy woman? Aren't you?" she asked with a welcoming smile. "I want to thank you for freeing me from my curse. What can I possibly do for you in exchange?"
"You can ask me inside, dearie," replied the old woman. "It's awfully damn cold out here."
"Please come inside." Kara stepped back from the open door. "I'm sure Pete won't mind that you're here."
"I'm sure he won't mind at all," grinned the old gypsy, as if she knew somehow that Pete was still sleeping. "You've certainly got a nice set of boobs, Kara. But don't you think they're just a shade overstated?"
"I didn't really have any choice in the matter," replied Kara. "I'm sure you must know how it is with boys and their superbusty girl fantasies." Kara paused - something didn't seem right. "Wait just a minute!" she suddenly exclaimed. "How do you know my name, old woman? Are you a witch as well as a gypsy?"
The old gypsy woman simply smiled back at Kara. "I've been called worse things in my life than a witch. And who am I to deny the truth when it's spoken. As far as knowing your name, why shouldn't I know it, Kara dear? After all, I was the one who gave it to you."
Kara, feeling very confused, stared at the old gypsy. "Just what are you saying?"
"Damnation!" exclaimed the gypsy witch. "I was afraid there might be some impairment of your memory after all the time that has passed. I can only hope it's all reversible given enough time in a female body." The old woman then smiled.
"Perhaps this will help you remember a few more things." The air about the old gypsy began shimmering, quickly concealing her from Kara's sight. And once the strange effect finally ceased, the old gypsy woman had vanished. In her place stood a much younger, very attractive woman perhaps only a few years older than Pete. Instead of the shoulder length snowy white hair of the old gypsy, this new woman had black hair streaked with a few strands of gray.
For several moments, Kara stared blankly at the woman. And yet, she somehow seemed familiar. "I know you!" she suddenly exclaimed. "Your name is Magda. Magda Roberts."
The woman smiled. "Very good, my dear," she replied simply. "But think a little harder, Kara. What else do you remember about me?"
Once again Kara carefully looked the woman over from head to toe. "Why do you and I have the same last name?" she finally asked. Still feeling a little confused, Kara shook her head. Her eyes suddenly widened. "Mother!" she abruptly exclaimed. "You're my mother! I should have known you would never stop looking for me."
Kara and her mother hugged one another. It had been such a long time since they'd seen one another.
"Although it took far longer than I expected, I finally located the male vessel into which your soul was ensnared this lifetime just last week, Kara. I've come so close to rescuing you a couple of other times in the past, but your former male selves always found a way to die before I could restore you. I'm sure you must remember how that perverse little bastard who had originally cursed your soul to live in male flesh forever had also enjoined me from ever restoring your true womanhood directly. As a result, I've always had to find other means to achieve my goal of restoring you. I finally got lucky this time."
"You used Pete as a means to restore me," stated Kara.
"Of course I used him. It seemed perfectly fair to use one of them who was so ripe for the plucking," replied Kara's mother. "After all, Pete's nothing but another simple male."
"I don't want you hurting him, mother."
"What?" After staring in disbelief at her daughter for a moment, Magda closed her eyes and concentrated. "How typically male of him," she sighed. "I don't know how he managed it, but that conniving male of yours somehow altered the texts of the restoration spells I gave him. I had been wondering about those overly large boobs of yours, not to mention the air of raw sex you seem to exude."
"Those things are not really Pete's fault, mother," snapped Kara. "They were your spells that turned my former male body into someone he found pleasing."
"He was supposed to find you very pleasing, Kara. You should know that sex with him, or any other male, was a necessary requirement for stabilizing your present female form. But your falling in love with him was never a part of any spell I gave him. He somehow added that, even though he shouldn't have been capable of doing it." Kara's mother shook her head. "However, I suppose what's done is done. We must now think about leaving this place."
"Leaving here? What do you mean we must think about leaving here?" asked Kara. "I'm not planning on going anywhere without my Pete."
"Your Pete? I should have guessed as much," replied Magda. "However, I would have thought that you'd want to assist me in finding your missing sisters."
"Sisters? I have sisters? They're missing?" Kara slowly shook her head. "My sisters, Lara and Mara? How could I have possibly forgotten about them?"
"It's not your fault your memory remains a little splotchy, Kara," replied her mother. "However, quite fortunately for all of us, it seems with the proper stimulation your current memory impairment will be only temporary."
"Do you know where they are, mother?"
"Not exactly," replied the witch. "Although I could never find even the smallest trace of either of them before, now that you, the oldest of my missing triplets, has been found and restored I suddenly sense Lara's presence. She is not too far away from here. But as I said before, we need to be on our way."
"And as I told you before, mother, I don't intend on going anywhere," replied Kara. "I like this big house. And I really want to stay here with my Pete."
"We might be able to stay here, I suppose," replied Magda after a moment's thought. "If Lara's nearby, then Mara most likely is as well. This house is perfectly located to serve as the base of operations for our search." Magda smiled at her daughter. "However, we'll have to do something about its owner. I refuse to stay in any house owned by a man."
"I won't let you hurt Pete," warned Kara.
But the witch only smiled. "Hurting him wasn't quite what I had in mind for him."
"Just what do mean by that?"
"You'll see soon enough," smiled her mother. "Let's go upstairs and pay your Sleeping Beauty a little visit. I trust you've already relieved him of my Alchemist's Stone."
"Of course. But you should have never let him have it. It's too dangerous for a mortal to possess."
"I had no choice. I would have missed this chance to restore you if I'd not taken the chance," replied Magda. "All I'll need its help for the changes I have in mind for Pete."
As they made their way up the stairs, Kara fished in purse for the stone she'd taken from Pete earlier. Handing it to her mother, she asked, "Just what are you thinking of doing to my Pete?"
"You'll see soon enough," smiled Magda, as she followed Kara into Pete's room.
As soon as she saw Pete, Kara smiled at him. He was still laid out on his bed just as she'd left him - totally naked and peacefully slumbering. "Isn't he just the cutest thing you've ever seen in your life, mother?" sighed Kara.
"Cute? He's not even close, child," snapped Magda. "I'm sure if you tried you could get over him. He's just a male. And males like him have always been a dime a dozen - at the very most."
"I can't help how I feel, mother," said Kara dreamily. "I think I love him."
"I doubt it. That's just his foul addendum to my spell talking," frowned Magda. "My original spell wasn't supposed to turn you into his girlfriend. But he somehow changed it. Even though he shouldn't have been capable of it, he somehow managed to modify my spell on his own." She looked over at Pete on the bed. "His modifications to my spell have also created complications I can't undo without the risk of losing you again." Magda began grinning. "However, in the hands of a talented professional such as myself, the Alchemist's Stone can perform minor miracles. Just watch and learn, Kara."
As Magda held up the stone, it started to glow.
Bathed in the glow from the stone, the sleeping Pete appeared to be growing younger. With each apparent year that slipped away from him, his body accordingly shrank.
"What have you done to Pete, mother?" asked Kara, when the gem's glow began fading. "He's still just as cute as ever, but he doesn't look much older than sixteen now."
"He was too old for you before," countered her mother.
Kara was puzzled by her mother's remark. "But isn't he a little too young for me now?"
"Perhaps. Perhaps not," smiled Magda impishly. "We'll just have to wait and see what you have to say after I've finished."
"Finished?" asked Kara. "Just what else could you do to him?"
"I'm very surprised at you, dear. As a witch yourself, you should know the intriguing possibilities for him are virtually endless."
"I'm a witch too?"
"Of course you are. You're my daughter and witchcraft runs deeply in our ancient family," smiled Magda. "Now just continue watching your young man." Once more she held up the stone.
And once again Pete was bathed in its crimson glow.
This time the contours of his youthful male body began changing. His entire frame swiftly took on a much softer and more rounded overall appearance. His waist slowly pulled inwards, while his hips, just as deliberately, expanded correspondingly.
His male member quickly shrank, finally disappearing altogether. His scrotum, swiftly deflated by the fleeing of his testicles upward into his body, remolded as if clay, becoming a small mound centered about a warm moist slit.
Meanwhile, his chest had also begun changing. Two small nubs formed beneath his small male nipples and began pushing them outwards. But while Kara and her mother watched, the small nubs quickly swelled into two impressive mounds of firm female flesh.
And finally the thinning hair on his head began growing thicker and longer. At the same time, it was also becoming increasingly lighter.
As the glow from the gem faded away, the form lying in the bed no longer bore any resemblance to Pete in any way. Laid out peacefully sleeping on the bed was a very attractive teenage girl with long golden blonde hair.
"Why did you do that to him, mother?"
"Why did I do what to him?" replied Magda innocently.
"You turned my Pete into a girl."
"Oh that. Didn't I just tell you I would never stay in a house owned by a man?" replied Magda. "As of this moment, I no longer have any qualms about staying in this house, since it now belongs to her and not a man."
Kara stared at her mother. "But that's not the only reason you changed him this way. Is it, mother?"
"It was the primary reason," replied Magda. "But as you've surmised, it certainly wasn't the only one. Somehow that man altered my spell and made you love him. Even using my Alchemist's Stone that should have been impossible for someone like him. If you're going to love some man, Kara, it should be because you really love him and not because he enspelled you into loving him." Magda looked over at the sleeping girl, who had begun caressing her new breasts in her sleep. "And since I couldn't negate whatever he did to make you love him, I gave him a new life. She will still love you, just as you will still love her. But your love will now take an entirely different path than he had intended."
"That was very cruel of you, mother." But even as she looked over at Pete, Kara quickly realized her mother was right. She still loved Pete, only it wasn't like the love she'd felt for him when Pete had still been a man. She no longer considered Pete to be her lover. Instead, she found herself now thinking of the girl in the bed in terms more associated with a little sister.
"Cruelness is always a relative term," Magda shot back. "What I found more cruel was her being imprisoning in that sniveling male flesh in the first place." She noted Kara's sour expression. "Now that I've had time to think about it, I doubt she was meant to be born male. It now seems quite clear to me - as it should to you - that she was always meant to be a witch - a very powerful one - given the male she'd been born was able to alter my spells so easily. Something obviously went wrong at her birth. And I've simply corrected that mistake."
Pete moaned softly in his sleep. "Oh Tommy, I think you're just so wonderful," he mumbled, a wide grin spreading quickly across his pretty female face. "I want to do it again, Tommy baby."
"Tommy baby?" Kara turned to her mother in search of an explanation. "Just who the hell is this Tommy baby supposed to be?"
"Most likely," smiled Magda, "Tommy is her boyfriend."
"Her boyfriend?" Kara, for a moment, sounded jealous.
"Really, Kara. I'm really surprised at you," replied her mother. "I told you I gave him a new life. Don't you think it would have been unusually cruel for Penny - that's short for Penelope, you know - to wake up still thinking she was some man named Pete Quinlan instead of herself Penny Quincy." Magda smiled mischievously. "And I certainly think any girl as pretty as our young Penny would have a boyfriend... or two... or even more. Don't you think so, Kara dear?"
"But won't he think having a boyfriend, not to mention being a girl is just a little strange?"
"Why should she think so? You heard her dreaming about Tommy just now. That simply means her mind has already accepted her new reality. As far as Penny knows, she's a girl and has always been a girl. I doubt she'd want it any other way." Magda took a quick look around Pete's room. "But we really must do something about this room. It's simply too male. She'll really be confused if she wakes in some man's room." Magda held up her Alchemist's Stone once again and mumbled a few unintelligible words.
A brilliant blinding crimson flash suddenly filled the room.
As soon as the light and the accompanying afterimages faded away, Kara saw that the room itself had been transformed into one that clearly, down to the smallest detail, belonged to the sixteen-year-old girl lying in her bed.
"That's definitely much better." Magda turned back to her daughter. "Since we're going to stay here for a while, I had the stone prepare our rooms as well. When we need to go to them later, we'll know exactly which rooms they are."
Just then, the young girl on the bed began stirring. After opening her eyes, she slowly looked about her room. "I'm so glad you moved in with me, Aunt Kara," smiled the girl once she spotted Kara. "This place is just so big someone could easily get lost in it. But is something wrong?"
"Of course not," replied Kara. "Why would you think so, Penny?"
"You had this funny looking expression on your face, Aunt Kara."
"I think she just wanted to surprise you, my dear."
Penny turned at the sound of the new voice. "Grandma Magda!" she exclaimed gleefully. "I didn't know you were coming too. Are you going to stay? How long are you going to stay with me?"
"If you'd like, I'll move in here with you and Kara," smiled Magda. "I've grown tired of living alone lately. And I think living here will aid in my search for my missing daughters, your aunts, Lara and Mara."
"That's absolutely fantastic news, Grandma Magda," squealed the girl in sheer delight. "I'll just love having both of you living here with me." Penny smiled at them. "And I'm sure you both know that if there's anything I can do to assist your search for Aunts Lara and Mara, then all you need do is ask me."
"I know that, my dear. And I'll certainly appreciate all your help as long as it doesn't interfere with your studies," replied Magda. "But perhaps, you should think about getting dressed now. And while you're getting dressed, I will go to the kitchen and fix us all breakfast." She turned to her stunned daughter. "Let's go downstairs, Kara. We have a few other things to discuss." She then turned back to Penny. "We'll see you downstairs in a little bit, Penny dear."
"All right, Grandma Magda."
However, as Penny watched her grandmother and aunt leave the room, she suddenly had the strangest feeling that something - aside from the fact her Aunts Lara and Mara were still missing - wasn't quite right.
But what could it possibly be?
Maybe it had something to do with that strange dream she'd had last night. But simply thinking about that weird dream made her suddenly feel tingly all over.
All of a suddenly, Penny jumped out of her bed and headed straight for the mirror. Looking at her reflection should hopefully answer any question she might have about last night. Penny didn't know exactly why - although she guessed her peculiar dream was its root cause - she just felt so incredibly hot and sexy this morning.
Penny was very relieved when she saw her reflection. Although the thought was sort of amusing and made her feel downright silly, Penny was glad she was still herself and not someone else. But why would she ever think something so patently absurd. "Who ever heard of someone going to bed at night one person and waking up the next morning as someone else?" she asked her reflection.
She looked more closely at her reflection. It, as was she, was still naked. But that wasn't overly unusual. Penny knew she'd slept naked ever since she was a little girl. Even as a young child, she'd simply loved the feel of soft silken sheets against her body. And those sensations had only become better and better as she had grown into a woman.
Her hand cupped one of her breasts. "These aren't really too bad. But I sure do wish my boobies were as big as Aunt Kara's." She sighed, knowing the boys at her school apparently liked those girls with the biggest boobies best. "If they were bigger, then maybe Tommy Miltoon would finally notice me." On the other hand, she began grinning widely. "There's still hope. After all, I'm only sixteen and I'm still a growing girl."
But after gazing at her hot sexy body for a few minutes, Penny decided she'd better get dressed and go downstairs to the kitchen. "I certainly wouldn't want Aunt Kara or Grandma Magda thinking I was up here doing something I shouldn't be doing," she grinned playfully at her reflection.
********** TO BE CONCLUDED
Originally posted to Classic BC on Saturday, May 03, 2003
As a healthy 16-year-old girl, Penny needed something to stay that way.
by Bill Hart
"What was with all that Grandma Magda shit upstairs?" questioned Kara as she sat down at the kitchen table and watched her mother continue cooking breakfast for the three of them. "You definitely aren't Penny's grandmother."
"Just why can't I be her grandmother, my dear?" replied Magda with her own question. "It stands to reason that if you've become her aunt and I'm your mother, then I must be her grandmother."
"That's a fairly reasonable explanation, I suppose," replied Kara. "Although I have no idea which of my non-missing sisters - I have no brothers - might now be thought her mother. But knowing you as well as I do, I'm also fairly certain it wasn't the only possibility left open to you. Just what further mischief are you planning to do now, mother?"
"Are you feeling a little jealous of Penny, dear?" smiled Magda. "I know you still love Penny as a result of that spell she cast on you when she was still Pete. But that love has now been channeled into a form more appropriate for that between an apparently twenty-year-old aunt and her precocious sixteen-year-old niece."
"I'm not jealous of you and Penny at all. But after all your earlier posturing about how you dislike men, you still went and transformed my Pete, a nearly forty-year-old man, into your sixteen-year-old granddaughter. I don't know about you, mother, but your behavior seems a little discrepant as well as highly inconsistent to me."
"How so, dear? You know I've always thought men had their place," replied Magda with a wide smile. "Pete's transformation just seemed the perfectly logical thing for me to do for - not to - him. Despite his most unfortunate accident of having been born male and his total ignorance of his actions in altering my restorative spells, Pete did help me reclaim your true female self," explained Magda. "I thought he deserved some kind of reward for being so helpful. On top of that, I've always wanted a granddaughter."
"You consider turning Pete into your granddaughter a reward?"
"Of course I do," replied Magda. "Don't you think it's a reward? What better reward could I have possibly given some man than the gift of womanhood? I really think she'll be far happier now as a nubile sixteen-year-old girl with her choice of several boyfriends, than she ever would have been remaining a pushing forty-year-old man whose wife just left him for the town idiot. And besides, if you or one of your sisters..."
"Let's not start up that old argument again, mother," snapped Kara. "I'm really not ready to continue it right now."
"Whatever you're cooking smells really good, Grandma Magda," said Penny as she entered the kitchen.
"It's nothing overly special, dear. It's just eggs, pancakes, and some link sausage."
"But those are all my favorites," squealed Penny excitedly. "I should have known you would never forget what I liked, Grandma Magda."
"I think you'll find your grandmother forgets very little, Penny," volunteered Kara. "She's always been real good at remembering those things we'd rather forget."
After Penny quickly sat down at the table next to Kara, her grandmother placed a heaping plate with a large stack of pancakes, a couple of eggs, and several link sausages in front of her and her aunt. Then Magda fixed another plate for herself and joined them at the kitchen table.
"This is a really great breakfast, Grandma Magda," said Penny between bites. Her plate was already half empty.
Magda smiled at the compliment from her new granddaughter.
Kara, thinking the whole exchange totally disgusting, slowly shook her head.
Penny turned to Kara. "I had this really weird dream last night, Auntie Kara." She paused for a moment, unsure if she wanted to continue. "And, believe it or not, you were in it with me."
"I was in your dream last night?" asked Kara. "How very strange?" She wondered if Penny's dream were really a dream. "Do you want to talk about it, Penny?"
"I don't really know," replied Penny. "It's a little embarrassing, not to mention being so very silly."
"I doubt you would have brought it up if you didn't want to talk about it," said Kara, casting a quick glance at her mother. "Besides, with all you've just said about it, I've become very curious about this odd dreams of yours."
Magda suddenly winced. "It might be better if you simply forgot all about this weird dream, Penny dear." Even though she knew it should be impossible, Magda hoped Penny's dream wasn't what she was thinking it might be.
"It's all right, Grandma Magda. But I kind of think Aunt Kara might be right. If I didn't want to talk to you about my dream, silly and strange as it might be, then I wouldn't have brought it up in the first place." Penny took a long deep breath to collect her thoughts before continuing her story. "In this dream I had last night, I had somehow become a man - a really old man of thirty-seven or maybe even thirty-eight."
Kara's mouth dropped wide open in surprise; it wasn't like her mother to leave loose ends. "Just where did I come into this dream of yours, Penny?"
Magda stared at her granddaughter in stunned disbelief, knowing full well that Penny should have no remaining conscious knowledge of either being Pete or being with Kara, which she was certain was the direction her dream story was heading. But it very definitely added more weight to the argument that Penny was really a witch, whose soul the powers that be had inadvertently placed in that male body at birth.
"Believe it or not, as this old guy I spent all night long fucking you, Auntie Kara. And after becoming exhausted, I feel asleep," replied Penny hesitantly, her face flushing somewhat pink. "Isn't that really silly?"
"Silly?" repeated Kara quietly. "I just don't know."
Penny blushed a bright crimson. "That's not exactly what I meant, you know. You're just so beautiful. And I'm sure if I were a guy - even one as old as that one I dreamed I was - I'd really enjoy fucking you again and again, Auntie Kara." Penny shook her head. "But all night long? Get real. For such a really old geezer like that to be fucking you, or any other woman, all night long is just too unbelievable to be true."
Magda sighed, feeling some relief. If Penny continued thinking of her night with Kara as Pete as nothing more than a silly dream, then there wouldn't be much of a problem. She'd probably forget about the whole thing within a few hours, especially if she were provided the proper stimulus. But it was still disconcerting that she even remembered anything at all about last night.
"I think I know just what you mean, Penny," smiled Kara. "Guys lack stamina and are easily exhausted."
"I think my dream was probably the result of all the excitement about having you move in with me," replied Penny. "You know you're my most favorite aunt in the whole world and I've always loved you, Auntie Kara. And then, there's this boy I've been thinking about an awful lot lately. All of it together must have somehow triggered that weird jumbled up dream in my mind."
"That sounds like a reasonable explanation," replied Kara, even though she knew it wasn't the correct one.
"Besides - and please don't take this the wrong way, Auntie Kara - if there were going to be someone lying in my bed with me some night, I'd really want it to be Tommy Miltoon."
"Tommy Miltoon?" asked Kara curiously.
Magda simply smiled. She was beginning to think everything would be all right with her granddaughter.
"He's that boy I've been thinking about so much lately," blushed Penny. "He's in my history class at school," Penny began to explain. "He's so gorgeous. And you wouldn't believe just how incredibly hot he is," she said dreamily. "All the girls at school are chasing after him. I'd really like to be the one who catches him, but I don't really think he even knows I exist," pouted Penny.
"That's certainly not an insurmountable problem," mumbled Magda.
"What was that, Grandma Magda?"
"Nothing, dear. Nothing at all." Magda closed her eyes. For just a split second, she seemed lost in concentration. "I was just thinking out loud," she smiled at Penny.
Unexpectedly, the doorbell rang.
"I wonder who that could possibly be?" asked Penny. "I'm not really expecting anyone else this morning."
"Why don't you get the door and find out, Penny dear?"
Without a grumble, Penny heeded her grandmother's suggestion. After getting up from the table, she headed straight for the door.
"Just what are you up to now, mother?" asked Kara suspiciously. "I saw that look of glee in your eyes."
"You'll see soon enough. I'm sure neither of us want Penny dwelling on that dream of hers," smiled Magda. "I'll certainly be happier once your own powers begin manifesting again.
When Penny returned to the kitchen a few seconds later, she wasn't alone. "Grandma Magda. Aunt Kara. This is Tommy Miltoon," she said excitedly. "Can you believe this? Tommy came all the way over here this morning just to see me." Penny quickly grabbed Tommy's hand. "I didn't even think you knew I existed."
"How could I not notice a really hot babe like you, Penny?" replied Tommy, shaking his head. "Do you want to go up to your room and fool around for a while?"
"Do I ever," replied Penny. She turned to her grandmother and aunt. "Tommy and I are going up to my room for a while. We don't want to be disturbed." Penny smiled mischievously as she turned her attention back to Tommy. "C'mon Tommy. Follow me."
"Whatever you say, babe," said Tommy. Although he was objecting, he still seemed somewhat confused as Penny pulled him away from the others and headed him in the direction of her room. And yet, who was he to complain if this hot sexy fox he only barely knew wanted to take him up to her room. It definitely seemed an excellent way for them to become better acquainted.
Kara watched Penny and Tommy disappear up the stairs. "Have you got any idea what those two could do up there all alone, mother?"
"I have plenty of ideas, Kara. Most likely they'll soon be doing whatever comes naturally between a boy and girl. That would be my best guess," replied Magda. "In spite of what you think sometimes, I'm not stupid, my dear."
"And you aren't worried about them doing that?"
"Not particularly. You must remember this is her house; we're just her guests," replied Magda. "Tommy and Penny will be just fine up in her room. What they'll be doing together is perfectly natural between a boy and a girl. And it should also help remove whatever remnants of her dream are still lingering about in her mind." Magda smiled. "And it should keep her busy. I have a new lead on the whereabouts of your sister Lara we need to check out."
"But I still don't like the idea of leaving the two of them upstairs alone, while we go out looking for Lara."
"Quit worrying about them so much, Kara. Let them have a little harmless fun together, just like you had with Pete last night. I swear you're beginning to act just like an old mother hen."
Kara glared at her mother. "Just what are you up to now, mother?"
"When did you become so suspicious, young lady?" asked Magda. "I'll bet you must have picked up that annoying little trait from your father. He was always one suspicious cuss."
"Maybe I did and maybe I didn't," snapped Kara. "But in any event, I still know you. As a result I really think we can leave daddy out of this argument. And I'm sure you must know I'll figure out whatever you're doing sooner or later."
"Oh, all right," growled Magda. "Since I need you to concentrate on finding your missing sisters, I'll tell you what I've done. Although he doesn't - and never will - realize it, Tommy Miltoon's here because I sent for him."
"Why would you send for him?"
"You heard how Penny spoke about him," said Magda. "Didn't you?"
"Yeah, she thinks she's in love with him," replied Kara. "So what?"
"I'll be glad when all your memories return. Tommy's the solution to our little problem."
"What little problem?"
"Haven't you been paying attention to what's been going on, Kara? He's the solution to what we must do about Penny's dream. What else did you think I meant?"
"I'm confused," replied Kara. "Just what are you talking about now, mother?"
"Isn't it obvious to you yet?" replied Kara's mother. "Simply put, our young Penny shouldn't have remembered anything about being Pete or screwing you for hours last night."
"So you've kept saying over and over. But I'm not sure I see the problem. Penny, as you might remember, told us she considered it all a silly dream."
"But she needs to totally forget about that dream. If she doesn't and it's allowed to remain in her mind, she might eventually remember it was real and not a dream. That's one of the reasons why Tommy's here right now."
"And just what other reasons might there be?"
"He's here to help her forget the dream, of course," sighed Magda. "Sometimes you can be so dense about things, Kara. I wouldn't be overly surprised to discover you got that from your father too."
"Are you planning on telling me just how Tommy's going to make her forget about that dream?"
"Dense and naive." Magda shook her head. "Are you absolutely sure you're my daughter?"
"Mother!"
"He's here for the sex, of course," stated Magda. "Are you satisfied now?" She smiled at her daughter. "Tommy's here to fuck Penny. You heard her dreaming about him. And you should know from being one how boys Tommy's age are always thinking about sex." Magda smiled. "This will simply kill two birds with one stone... so to speak."
"What two birds are you planning to kill now?" asked Kara. "We don't own any damn birds. Why do you insist on talking in riddles all the time, mother?"
"I wonder where we can get your blood tested," snapped Magda. "A little old-fashioned sex with Tommy is the perfect stimulus to make Penny totally forget about that so-called dream of hers."
"Okay, that's one reason for leaving them alone together. What might the other one be?"
"It's a little more obscure. Although it's the same reason I had you and Pete engage in your own sexual activities last night, I'm not surprised you don't remember with your impaired memory." Magda looked at the clock on the oven. "If Penny isn't fucked by a male sometime in the next twenty-two hours and forty-three minutes to stabilize her new female form, she's very likely to undergo a spontaneous physical transformation."
"Are you trying to tell me that Penny might change back into Pete?"
"That's certainly one possibility," replied Magda. "However, there are an infinite number of equally likely possibilities. She could very easily wind up a two-headed, hermaphroditic, woolly aardvark. Of course, she could just as easily transform into nearly anything imaginable."
Kara stared at her mother. "If that's the case, then maybe we had better leave them alone to do what must be done." Kara smiled at her mother. "I think we should check out this lead on Lara's whereabouts. Don't you?"
"That's just what I was thinking, dear."
Mother and daughter headed for the door.
"What about the breakfast dishes?" asked Kara, as she opened the door.
"They're not going anywhere, Kara. And it's not as if Penny and Tommy will notice whether or not they've been washed or put away. We'll have plenty of time to do them when we get back."
"Okay," replied Kara. "And somehow I doubt Penny or Tommy will notice we've even gone out of the house." Kara and her mother Magda stepped outside, shutting the door behind them.
The End... for now
A twist on the old fairy-in-the-spider-web
Part 1
I awoke, sweating profusely, with a start.
It was dark outside.
And for a moment or two, until I realized I was in my own bed, I did not know exactly where I was.
"What a strange dream." I mumbled. "Just too fucking unreal and yet, something about it seemed very real.
But why, I wondered, would that incredibly beautiful woman in my dream want to give me the power to grant wishes to other people. But when I closed my eyes again I could see her pale light green complexion, which, along with her pointed ear and cat-like eyes, could be nothing else save a dream.
And then I heard her words again. "Hear me, favored of mortals and ken thou reward shalt be granting the wishes of others for a time of mine choosing, but also ken thou mayn't grant thyself thine own desires."
It must have been a dream, I reasoned. What else could it have been? No one spoke like that. No one looked like that and wishes... I smiled... there was no such thing as wishes.
It had to be my subconscious working overtime. Perhaps my mind was trying to rationalize some reason for the actions of that strange bug I had freed from the spider's web. It might have looked like a girl, but my mind had obviously been playing tricks on me. I didn't know any girls who were only two inches tall or any that had finely crafted diaphanous wings. It really had to be dream.
That had been weird enough, but I could have sworn I heard her, for I can't help but think of her as a her and not an it, say "thank thee, sirrah. Thou shalt be rewarded." And then she kissed me.
I yawned, rolled over, and went back to sleep.
There was an insistent knocking at my door. And even though it woke me, I wasn't interested in finding out who was there. But after several minutes, it became apparent that whoever was banging on my door was going to keep banging on it until I answered the door or my whole neighborhood was awake.
I came down the stairs and opened the door. It was my sometimes friend Dick Waynor, who tended to be my friend whenever he wanted something from me or had some kind of trouble with one, although generally more, of his girls.
"Jeff, old buddy." began Dick. "You just gotta help me."
"Help? How?" I replied sleepily.
"It's Lisa. She's really pissed at me." replied Dick. "She found out that I was sleeping with Rachel Anderson while she was away visiting her sick grandmother."
"You turd." I exclaimed. "Tell me you didn't?"
"Don't give me none of your 'holy than thou' shit, Jeff." he replied. "You'd have done exactly the same thing, if you were me."
"I doubt it, Dick."
Dick began to laugh. "That's right. I forgot you aren't me. You're you." His laughter deepened. "But then I also forgot that you've got the hots for Lisa. I don't know why you even bother. She's not interested in you at all. You're way too bookish for her tastes. And you always seem to have your nose in one strange book of fantasy after another."
"So, I like Lisa." I knew there was no way of denying the truth now, but maybe if he thought it didn't bother me, he'd lay off. "What do you want, Dick?"
"Something really easy. I want you to hide me for a week or so." he started to explain. "I mean, you're always helping out somebody with their problems. And I thought you'd be willing to help your good old buddy Dick with his problem. All you gotta do is keep Lisa from finding me until after she cools off a little bit."
I shook my head. "No can do, old buddy." He looked stunned by my refusal. "You know, as well as I do, that the very first place Lisa is going to come looking for you is right here. Face it, Dick. Where else do you run whenever the two of you have a fight?"
"Damn it, you're right, Jeff. I never even stopped to think about that." Suddenly Dick looked worried. "Hell, Lisa's probably on her way over here right now. I'd better make tracks and get the hell out of here." He turned back towards the door. "Shit." he swore. "I sure wish there was someplace close by that I could hide out for a while. It would have to be someplace where Lisa would never find me and someplace with one really foxy babe in it."
"Maybe I can help ... after all." I didn't know why I suddenly wanted to help him, because I really didn't want him hanging around. But very suddenly and quite inexplicably, I really felt compelled to help him. "Take your bag up to my spare room." I told him. "You know where it is. You can hide out there for while."
"But what about Lisa?" he asked worriedly. "You said ..."
"Never mind what I said earlier." I told him still under that strange compulsion.
There was a knocking at door.
"That's probably Lisa now." exclaimed Dick. "What'll I do?"
"Just be calm." I replied. "It'll be okay, you'll see. I'll take care of everything." For some reason, I smiled. "Now get upstairs. You don't want to be caught down here."
"You got that right." Dick picked up his bag and ran up the stairs. At the top he turned for a minute. "Thanks, Jeff. I owe you one."
"No problem." I told him. Then as I watched, he continued on his way down the hall to my spare room. And moments later, I heard the door close. "Now to remain hidden." I mumbled, not knowing why I did, as compulsively I began to smile again. Dick had made a wish, I suddenly thought. Why am I hoping he really enjoys it. Could there actually be something to that strange dream of mine?
The rapping at the door became louder and more insistent.
"Hold on." I shouted. "I'm coming." I yawned as I opened the door. "Lisa. What a surprise."
"Can the shit, Jeff." she said. "Where is he?"
"Where is who?" I asked. "You just woke me up."
"Bullshit." she replied angrily. "I want to know where that dipshit friend of yours, Dick Waynor, is. I'm sure you remember him. You know, sometimes when I'm around he tells people he's my boyfriend. And other times, he's off fucking some other girl."
"I haven't seen him." I told her simply.
"Quit covering up for him, Jeff. He's not worth it." She sighed. "I know that he's here. He has to be here. He's so damn predictable. Where else does he ever wind up when he's in deep shit up to his neck?"
"Did you guys have a fight or something?" I asked innocently.
"Would you cut the crap, Jeff? He's been here." said Lisa. "You and I both know it. My guess is he's probably still here. Perhaps I should go up and take a peek in that spare room of yours."
I didn't know why I wasn't worried. I should have been, since Dick really was in my spare room, but I wasn't. Hell, she wanted to look ... "If you think Dick's really up there, then why don't you just go up and take a look for yourself. Be my guest."
Lisa smiled. It was one of those "I got you now" smiles. "Thanks, Jeff. I think I just will."
Lisa stormed up the stairs. As I followed close behind, I was reminded of a predator stalking her prey.
But as she invaded my spare room intent on mayhem, Lisa ran directly into and knocked down a buxom green-eyed brunette, who'd been staring at herself in the mirror with a totally dazed expression spread across her pretty face.
I noticed immediately that this girl was wearing the same clothes that Dick had been wearing when I sent him upstairs. Only now, his, or was it now her, pants were far too long. And every button on his or her shirt had been undone and the shirt itself had been pulled over to cover her, I'd decided her was the proper pronoun, ample breasts.
"I'm terribly sorry, miss." exclaimed the bright red Lisa. "And so embarrassed." She helped the fallen girl to her feet. "Can you ever forgive me? I thought my boyfriend was hiding out up here." But as she noticed the still dazed expression on the girl's face, she asked, "Are you alright?"
"I think so." replied the girl. She walked unsteadily to the bed and sat down on its edge. Then she gaped again at her reflection.
I had to think quickly. I couldn't let this girl tell Lisa she was really Dick, even if Lisa wasn't likely to believe any of it. But I really wondered why Lisa hadn't noticed the girl's disheveled male apparel. "Lisa, this is my cousin Cheri Wilters." I told her, hoping the apparently transformed Dick would go along. "She's visiting me for the next couple of weeks." I turned to Dick. "Cheri, this is Lisa, the girlfriend of one of those disreputable friends of mine that I told you all about earlier."
Dick shot me a look of disgusted annoyance, but silently indicated she'd go along with everything I'd just told Lisa.
"Then you really haven't seen Dick?" asked Lisa.
"Not in the past week, at least." I replied. "It might even be a little longer."
Lisa looked disappointed. "I suppose if I'm going to find him, then I'd better keep looking for him." She turned back to Cheri. "I really need to apologize to you again. Dick - that's my supposed boyfriend - he just makes me so mad sometimes. I wish I could make it up to you." She paused then smiled. "And I know exactly how. You and your cousin Jeff can be my guests at the party tonight."
"I'd love to go." replied Cheri. When I looked at her, I could tell she was just as surprised at her answer as I was. "It sounds like it'll be loads of fun."
"It should be." replied Lisa. "Even if I don't manage to catch up with Dick wherever he might be." She turned back to me. "Dick was supposed to take me tonight, Jeff. If I don't find him, would you mind terribly if I come over and go with you guys tonight?"
"Well ... um ... sure ... I guess." I stuttered. I looked at Cheri, who shook her head. "I suppose it'll be alright." I turned back to Lisa. "As long as it doesn't bother you, it won't bother me."
"That's great, Jeff." she smiled at me. "I'll probably drop back by here later. I have this funny feeling that Dick is going to be hiding himself away from me for a while." She turned to Cheri. "It was nice meeting you, Cheri."
But Cheri, who had become engrossed once more in her reflection, didn't answer immediately. Fortunately, Lisa must have thought that Cheri's marked hesitation in replying to her was a direct consequence of her being knocked down earlier. But suddenly, Cheri realized that Lisa was speaking to her. "I'm sorry, I was thinking about something else. It really was nice to meet you too, Lisa."
"I guess I've taken up enough of your time." said Lisa apologetically. "I really must go out and see if I can find wherever Dick is hiding. Don't worry about me, Jeff. I can find my own way out." She moved quickly towards the door.
"If I see Dick later, then I'll tell him you're looking for him."
"Okay. Thanks Jeff."
Cheri watched Lisa leave the room. Then she stared angrily at me. Even though she was nearly speechless, I could she was really pissed at the recent turn of events.
Then I heard the front door close.
"What the fuck happened to me?" swore Cheri.
"How should I know?" I replied. There was no way in hell I was going to say anything to her about granting wishes. I knew if I did, it wouldn't be long before she was her normal male self again. Not only that, but it wouldn't be long before those massive mammaries of hers were hanging from my chest. "Would you calm down Dick?"
"Calm down?" he screamed. "What the hell do you mean calm down?" he screamed again. "As soon as I came up here and closed the door, I began to feel awful strange. As I watched in the mirror, my hair suddenly spurted out several feet in length. It feels really weird to have it swish across the middle of my back. Then my hips widened. They feel like bookshelves. My face softened and reshaped into this unknown pretty girl's face. And then my tits began to inflate like balloons. As they swelled, they felt really peculiar. But it wasn't a bad sensation; it was actually sort of pleasurable. And they kept on growing. Finally, they got so big the buttons exploded right off my shirt." Cheri pulled the shirt away to expose her bountiful boobs. "Look at me, Jeff." she screamed. "I've got massive jugs." I could only stare as one of her hands lifted one of her breasts. "These have got to be the biggest knockers I've ever seen in my life for Christ's sake."
"Wow." I started to reach for one of his breasts. "Can I touch one of them?"
"Shit no, you little dickwad." she hollered. "Keep your god damn fucking hands to yourself, you sick pervert." She stared daggers at me. "And if these tits weren't bad enough, then ..." She reached down and unfastened her pants, then pulled both them and her shorts down, "... look. My balls and dick are gone." Once again, I stared at her, but this time it was the fuzzy slit between her legs. "I've got a pussy. Somehow, I've become a fucking cunt, Jeff." Dick looked like he was ready to bawl. "Then to top things off, you made a date with my girlfriend while I was watching. And you want me to fucking calm down."
"C'mon Dick. What could I do?" My eyes keep darting back forth between her buxom breasts and her dampening maidenhead. "You were one who wanted someplace to hide around here where Lisa would never be able to find you. Well. She talked to you. She looked right at you. And she never even recognized you. But you wanted that hiding place to house only one hot babe. And it really looks like someone gave you your wish." I couldn't help but smile. "Only you're not with a hot babe like you thought, you are the hot babe, as well as the sole occupant of your hiding place." Dick wasn't happy at how I spoke to her. "So chill out. Just relax and be Cheri for a while."
"That's easy for you to say." grumbled Cheri. "Why did you pick the name Cheri, anyway?"
"Why not?" I replied. "I had to tell Lisa something. Cheri was the first name that came to mind and Lisa knew that Wilters is my mom's maiden name. And I certainly couldn't tell her that you were her boyfriend Dick. Now could I? She wouldn't have believed it. I mean, would you believe a story like that?"
Cheri looked at herself in mirror again. I watched as she sullenly frowned after glancing down at her crotch. She pulled her pants up again. And after another gaze into the mirror, she shook her head. "Probably not." she sulked. "But what about that date with Lisa."
Now that irritated me. "Would you take it easy?" I told her more brusquely then I had intended. "You were standing right here. And you must have heard her. Lisa made the date, if that's what you really want to call it. And besides, you're going with us; remember?"
"I suppose, Jeff. I’m just not thinking to straight right now. I guess it'll be okay." she replied with a scowl. "But whatever possessed me to agree to a party looking like this." She held her arms out and her buttonless shirt flew open exposing her bountiful breasts. "I don't want people to see me like this." she whined.
"And why not?" I was almost certain she break out in sobs at any moment. "When someone looks at you, they're not going to see Dick Waynor at all. No one would ever believe it even if you stood up and shouted it to the world. People looking at you will only see my pretty cousin Cheri Wilters." She stared at me. I don't think she liked it when I called her pretty. "Besides, maybe while you're Cheri you can find out from some people what think of you and why." I really hoped he learn something.
Cheri suddenly began to smile. "You know, Jeff, that might have some real possibilities. I just might be able to find out a few things that'll help me get some dates with some of the other girls there."
So much for her learning anything, I thought.
"But there might be one problem." she mused. "I might have trouble remembering to answer to my new girl name. Just a few minutes ago, when Lisa was talking to me, I almost forgot to respond because she'd addressed me as Cheri. That could be a real problem if I forgot to respond to the name Cheri or even forgot to tell people my name was Cheri Wilters." She looked worried. "Damn." she swore. "I sure wish I'd never have that problem."
Oh, oh, I thought. She made another wish. I shivered for just a moment, but when I looked over at her, Cheri once again looked dazed and slightly out of it. But the odd expression on her face quickly passed. She seemed normal again. "Cheri?" I asked.
"Yes, Jeff." she responded quickly and very naturally.
I wondered if she might think of herself as Cheri. There was a simple test. "Tell me your full name."
She looked at me for a moment. "Sure Jeff. My full name's Cheryl Linley Wilters, but everyone just calls me Cheri." She shook her head. "But you already that, Jeff. Can you tell me why you asked?"
"It was ... just a test, Cheri." I stammered. "I wanted to see if you remembered your name."
She gave me another funny look. "And why shouldn't I remember my name?" she asked.
I had no reason I wanted to tell her, but I thought of one. "I wanted to make certain you weren't suffering any unusual aftereffects from Lisa knocking you down earlier."
"That was nice of you, Jeff." she answered. "But everything seems perfectly normal."
I really don't know how much more of this I can take. Maybe if I went back to bed, I'd wake up and find this had all been one weird nightmare. "Cheri, I'm going back to bed and get some more sleep. Why don't you try to get some too. Maybe you'll feel better after a little sleep."
"That sounds like a real good idea to me, Jeff. I'm tired." She stretched her arms and gave me another wonderful view of her large and rounded breasts. "I didn't really get much sleep myself. What with getting it on last night with Rachel, then having to worry how Lisa would attempt to exact her revenge, sleep was the furthest thing from my mind."
Cheri turned and went up the stairs.
This is a dream, I tried to convince myself.
Isn't it?
Part 2
It was several hours later before I finally crawled out of my bed again. I was absolutely certain that I must have dreamed all of the events that I thought I'd witnessed earlier this morning. After getting out of bed, I went downstairs to get a drink of water. That sure was one hell of a weird dream. Dick Waynor, a buxom girl? I couldn't contain my laughter.
"What's so funny?" asked Cheri as I reached the bottom of the stairs. "I was beginning to wonder if you were ever going to get out of that bed of yours. I was actually beginning to think that you might have a girl up there with you."
I stared at her. She was still wearing the same pants as before. They didn't really fit any better now, but she'd cuffed them just above her ankles so they wouldn't drag along the floor. But she had replaced the shirt that had become buttonless with a tightly fitting pullover T-shirt on which was embossed "I love big boobies." The shirt stretched tautly across her breasts, prominently displaying her nipples underneath.
"Cheri?" I asked amazed at the vision of beauty I saw.
"Yes, Jeff." she replied without a thought or even the slightest hesitation. "Please don't laugh." she implored. "This was the only shirt in my suitcase that fit," she clasped one of her breasts, "over these."
Suddenly it struck me. I hadn't been dreaming this morning. It was all true. Dick really was now a girl. He'd really made that wish and it had somehow come true. It must have something to do with that first weird dream I had this morning. But what kind of a reward was granting other people's wishes.
"What time is it?" I asked.
"It's after four already." replied Cheri. "You really must go to bed earlier at night, or else you wind up sleeping the whole day away."
"I'll think about it."
"You want to know something, Jeff." she said shyly.
Never having heard Dick say anything shyly before, I smiled. "What's that, Cheri?"
"It's really weird being a girl and having this body. When I was trying to sleep earlier, my hands ... all by themselves ... kept wandering up to my tits or down to my clit." She reddened slightly. "And when I ... well ... you know ... it felt really weird. Not bad exactly. Actually it was kind of nice." Her already red face began to darken considerably. "You know, Jeff, I've got these really big boobs."
"Yeah, I noticed." I told her then watched as her face flared to an even brighter crimson shade.
"While I was waiting for you to get up, I tried to practice walking around the room in this form a little bit. But when I did, these big tits bounced up and down, back and forth, and all over the place. My long hair swished across both my back and my tits. And all the time it feels like there's something furry on my shoulders. My hips feel so wide and my ass keeps wanting to swing back and forth like a girl. My center of gravity is totally hosed. And I'm having a one hell of time just walking from here to there without falling flat on my face, that is, unless I really concentrate.
"You want to know something else, Jeff? I don't have the slightest idea how girls get along with bodies like this or tits this enormous. I'm really damned uncomfortable. Damn. If I'm going to have to be a girl and stuck with this body, then I sure as hell wish there was some way I could feel completely natural and totally comfortable with this body."
Oh no, I thought, she's made another wish. But within minutes, she was casually strolling, with a very decidedly feminine gait, about the room, just as if she'd been walking that way for years.
"This is really wild." she exclaimed. "All of a sudden I feel really great. And I no longer have to think about walking or fear falling down." She fluffed her long hair with both hands. As she placed one of her hands on her hips, she then stuck that same hip out in a very feminine, possibly even seductive, pose. "Do you like this look, Jeff?"
I caught my breath. "You're beautiful, Cheri." She smiled back at me. And then I decided to test my ability, or lack thereof, to grant myself my own wish. "I wish you'd kiss me." I stated firmly.
Cheri frowned, as her previous smile quickly disappeared. I could tell she was pissed. "In your wet dreams, asshole." she spat. "I may look like like some really sexy bitch to you, Jeff. But in my head, which is the only place it counts, I'm still me." She sneered. "I'm still that handsome stud, who gets any girl he wants, that you and every other guy on the planet has always been jealous of. I'm just momentarily packaged a little differently right now." She posed again. "I'm still totally me, Jeff. I'm still Cheryl Linley Wilters just like I've always been."
Now that was totally bogus, I thought and what a total fucking disappointment. Why let me grant wishes to others, if I couldn't grant my own. This was no damn reward, it was fucking hell. Dick wished himself into a sexy girl and, unless he wished it, I couldn't take advantage of her like he's taken advantage of so many other girls in the past.
"The party starts in a just few hours, Cheri." I reminded her. "Maybe you should start thinking about getting ready now, since you're not used to being a girl and it might take you a while to dress your new body."
"Sounds like a good idea to me, Jeff." she replied. "I'm still not sure why I agreed to go this party tonight. But I did tell Lisa I'd go, so I guess I'm going." She turned back to me. "But I really don't have a thing to wear."
"But you brought a whole suitcase with you this morning." I reminded her.
"Duh, Jeff." she began laughing. "None of the stuff packed in my suitcase fits any better than what I'm already wearing. Besides, it's all guy stuff. Don't you remember, Jeff. I was a guy when I arrived here this morning." She frowned sullenly. "I had no idea when I left my place this morning that I was going to be a girl this afternoon. Had I known, I'd have packed a completely different set of clothes." Cheri began to laugh again. "I sure wish I'd packed my suitcase full of girl stuff this morning."
I felt another shiver pass through my body, as she made her wish. "Maybe you should go up and check what's in your suitcase again."
"I can't see why, Jeff. I know exactly what's in it?" she said. "But if it'll make you happy." She turned and quickly went up the stairs.
I stared after her until she disappeared into the upstairs hallway. "I wonder just how long people are going to continue getting their wishes granted just being around me." I grumbled. "It's not fair." I headed for the kitchen. I needed a really stiff drink.
It must have been close to an hour later when I finally decided that I'd better go upstairs and find out what was keeping Cheri. Knowing her odd state of mind, I really should have checked on her earlier, but now I dreaded the thought of entering her room and finding she done herself harm.
Instead I was stunned on entering her room.
She was now dressed in a loose fitting skirt that just barely reached the tops of her knees. Boots with one-inch heels climbed halfway up her legs. And the long sleeved light green cotton blouse, which she wore tucked in at the waist, highlighted her waspish waist, while at the same time displaying her ample cleavage over the top two buttons, that I guessed had been purposely left unbuttoned.
She'd left little to the imagination.
I couldn't help myself. I stared at her.
And Cheri noticed.
"Do you like this, Jeff?" she asked. "It was the least sexy thing in my whole suitcase. I can't even believe this was in my suitcase. In fact, all the stuff inside it was girl stuff, right down to that makeup case on the dresser." She looked worried. "I don't remember packing any of it. And I don't remember ever having seen any of it before. I must have been totally spaced out, or something worse, this morning. I wonder if any of this stuff belongs to Rachel.
She stared at the makeup case sitting on dresser. "I'll probably look completely out of place tonight, if I'm not wearing any makeup. But I don't know have the slightest idea how to put it on." She glanced at her reflection in the mirror, then back at the makeup case. "You know Jeff, I bet I'd look really great with just a little makeup. Don't you?" Somehow I knew where this was leading. "Damn." she swore. "I wish I knew how to apply this stuff to make me look really hot."
I felt the familiar shiver pass through me as she made her wish. And then, in what was becoming commonplace, I watched as Cheri sat down at the dresser, then expertly applied the makeup from the case, just as if she'd been doing it her entire life.
"There's nothing to it." she bragged. She smiled as she gazed at her handicraft in the mirror. "What a total babe I am." she exclaimed. "I don't know why girls take so much time putting this stuff on. Do you, Jeff? I mean, it didn't take me very long at all. I think I look really hot. And I don't even know the first thing about putting any of this stuff on."
I continued to stare at her.
"Now don't you go getting no ideas buster." she scolded me playfully. "I'm still a guy. I hope you remember that."
"I remember." I answered.
She gave me a devilish little grin. "Are you sure, Jeff?" she asked. "From that bulge in your pants, I'm not convinced that all of your body parts remember I'm a guy." She began to laugh.
I felt my face redden.
And fortunately, the doorbell rang.
"I'll get it." I told her. "It's probably Lisa."
"Just go on ahead, Jeff. I'll make my grand entrance in a couple of minutes." Cheri ran her fingers through her hair. The way she smiled made me nervous. I couldn't help thinking that she might be up to something. "When I come down, I'll really lay it on thick and heavy to Lisa about her boyfriend not taking her to party. I'll give her a real hard time and make her feel really bad." she sneered. "I'm sure you know exactly what I mean."
I made no attempt to answer her tirade before going down the stairs to answer the door. What she was planning totally disgusted me. I would have wished her plans away, but I knew that I couldn't so I didn't even make the effort.
And, just as I'd expected, when I opened the door, I was greeted by Lisa's smile. "Hi Lisa." I smiled back at her. "Come on in."
"Thank you, Jeff."
"Since you're here, I take it that you didn't find Dick."
"No, I didn't. I looked everywhere I could think of." she replied trying to hide her anger. "But he must have found himself a new hiding place somewhere. I wonder who she is?"
"What makes you think he's with another girl?" I asked, curious about her logic.
"Your loyalty to your friend is very admirable, Jeff." she replied calmly. "Even if it is misguided; But, to put it simply, Dick isn't here right now. No one has seen, or will admit to seeing, him for the past several days. He's not getting any action from me." she scowled. "And that, very simply, adds up to another girl to me."
A nice bit of deduction, I thought and almost true. Dick wasn't with another girl, he was another girl. "Maybe something bad happened to him."
"If something happened to him, then it had better be something really serious." she declared. "And if it didn't require hospitalization, he'd better make a reservation in the emergency room." she fumed. "Damn him anyway. You and I both know how infuriating Dick can be at times. And he makes me mad enough to shit bricks sometimes." She paused for a minute before continuing. "You know something, Jeff. Lately, there have been an awful lot of times that I really wish I'd never met Dick at all."
I shivered again.
"Is your cousin ready to go yet?" she asked me with no trace of the anger that had been present only moments before. "We should be going soon. I want to get to the party before all the single good-looking hunks are taken."
"Oh." I mumbled sounding more disappointed then I'd intended.
But I never could fool Lisa. "What's wrong, Jeff?" she asked.
"Well," I stumbled, "I thought ..."
"That since I was going with you and your cousin that we had a date." she finished for me.
"Well ... yeah." I said. "Kind of."
"Now that's really sweet, Jeff." she said. Here it comes, I thought. "You're a really nice guy and all, Jeff. But I just don't see the two of us as a couple." she tried to explain. "You're just too good a friend to ruin what we have by trying to be more than friends." And after dashing my hopes, she smiled at me. "Now don't you worry Jeff. It'll be alright. I know you'll find the right girl for you."
Shit, I thought. If that wasn't the story of my life, which, if anybody took the time to write it, would be a very short and boring story, then I didn't know what was. But at that exact moment, I must have appeared disappointed and depressed because Lisa gave me a little hug in, what I assumed to be, a gesture of that friendship of ours. However, I wanted more.
"It'll be alright, Jeff." she told me again. I was already sick and tired of hearing that phrase. She gave me a quick little peck on cheek. "Better?" she asked in a motherly tone.
It wasn't. But not knowing what to say, I simply nodded. I silently wished I could make a wish, but, as I'd expected, nothing happened.
"You know Jeff, for your sake," began Lisa, "I really wish I could be the girlfriend you've always wanted, but ..." She looked at me very strangely. It was almost as if she'd never seen me before. Then suddenly, she kissed me with a great deal more than just friendship on her mind.
"Wow." I exclaimed as we broke from our newly impassioned clinch.
"What did you expect?" she smiled, a lustful fire burning in her eyes. "I am your girlfriend. Aren't I, lover?"
But before I could answer her, we had resumed kissing once again.
We might have remained locked in each others embrace all night, except Cheri, who I'd all but forgotten was still upstairs, picked that very moment to come down the stairs. She cleared her throat. "Excuse me, guys." She coughed. "But if you two are going to carry on that way, then we're going to be really late arrivals at the party."
We reluctantly broke from our embrace.
Lisa greeted her warmly. "Hi Cheri. Damn, but you're looking good tonight." she exclaimed. "You must know that all of the guys will be drooling after they get their first glance of you. They're all going to want to know you better before this night is over."
"Yeah, right." she grumbled. I smiled as I heard her mumble, "That's just what I fucking need - drooling guys. Why the hell am I going to this party anyway?"
"We'll take my car." said Lisa, who, if she heard Cheri's mumblings, said nothing. "It's just outside." She began nibbling on my ear. "C'mon. Let's go." And very calmly, she turned and walked out the door.
"Way to go, Mr. Stud." remarked Cheri after Lisa had left.
"What?"
"Don't you remember, Jeff? I told you this morning, right after I met that sexy babe, that you and Lisa would be the most totally perfect couple of all time together. And from what I just saw," she grinned from ear to ear, "it looks like the two of you be will having a really good time tonight." She nudged her elbows into my ribs. "C'mon Jeff, let's not keep Lisa waiting."
I watched Cheri stroll out the door. But before I followed her out to Lisa's car, I couldn't help but think that it might not be all that bad letting other people do all the wishing.
And with a big smile spread across my face, I left and closed the door behind me.
When we arrived at the party, I was totally fascinated by everyone's reactions. Everyone came over to Lisa and me and greeted us as if we were old friends and a long time couple. Everyone knew that Lisa was my girl. And whenever Dick Waynor was mentioned, Lisa made no indication that she'd ever known him, just as she'd unknowingly wished.
Then there were the reactions to Cheri. Just like Lisa had predicted, Cheri was probably the most popular and the most sought after girl at the party.
And she was absolutely furious about it.
Watching Cheri's attempts to mingle was downright hysterical. I very quickly lost count of how many times some guy had groped her breasts or pinched her ass. And with each unwanted touch, Cheri grew more and more angry. If it had been another girl, it wouldn't have been funny at all. But it wasn't another girl, it was Dick. And this was poetic justice of a sort, since if Dick Waynor had been here in his flesh instead of hers, he would have been groping and pinching some other poor girl. And he would have loved it almost as much as Cheri hated it.
Cheri angrily stomped over to join Lisa and me. "I can't believe all these guys. What a bunch of assholes." she fumed. "Don't they understand that I don’t want them grabbing my breasts or pinching my ass? Or aren't they intelligent enough to understand what no means?"
Lisa smiled sympathetically. "That's just the way guys are like, Cheri." she replied. "That is, except for my Jeff here." She kissed me with fervent ardor.
"Have you found out anything tonight that you might find useful later?" I asked Cheri, enjoying her discomfort.
Cheri glared daggers back at me. "No." she said emphatically. "I've been far too busy trying to keep guys from fingering my boobs or grabbing my ass." She looked directly at me. "Only some of the guys here are real asses."
"Maybe you should go back out in the crowd and mingle some more." said Lisa as she huddled closer to me. "You might be missing out on that all important meeting with Mr. Right, right now."
"In this crowd?" she replied derisively. "I doubt it." She shook her head and, as she stared off into the crowd, mumbled in a barely audible voice, "Not that I'm at all interested in finding Mr. Right anyway." I didn't think that Lisa heard her, but I wasn't sure. And when she saw Lisa kissing me again as she turned back to us, I heard her sigh. "It looks like you guys want to be left alone. I'll just go back out there and try to mingle some more." She turned and headed back to the anxiously waiting crowd of young men.
I had begun to feel sorry for her and her situation. "She doesn't look like she's having much fun."
"I think she's just far too uptight and worried about what's right and wrong to be having any fun." replied Lisa. "I wouldn't be too surprised if she comes back here in another few minutes in a complete huff and just as pissed off as she was before. She really needs to try mellowing out a bit."
"Do you think we can help her?" I asked.
"I don't think so." she answered. "The best thing that could happen to her would be to find some guy. You know, if I could, I'd wish she'd loosen up, then find some guy that would keep her occupied for the rest of the party."
I shivered again.
As Lisa and I watched, Cheri was approached by Dawson Richards, the president of the chess club and one of the biggest, in more ways than one, computer geeks on campus. We were taken completely by surprise as Dawson and Cheri began talking to each other. She began to ignore all the other guys around her then started laughing at something Dawson had said.
He slid an arm around her waist. And when his hand slipped down to her ass, she smiled at him and made no objection whatsoever.
"It looks like she found that guy she needed." said Lisa smugly.
"Dawson Richards?" I queried. "I would have never believed it, if I hadn't seen it."
"I don't think she's going to come back for awhile after all." said Lisa with a grin.
"It doesn't look like it." I agreed.
"She'll probably be very busy for the rest of party."
"Probably." I agreed again.
"You know, Jeff." She cuddled closer to me. "As long as she's going to be occupied for the rest of the night, why don't you and I find something we can do together." She kissed my cheek. "Why don't you check with our hosts and find out if one of their spare rooms is available." She smiled at me provocatively. "That is, if you know what I have in mind."
"I think I've got a good idea." I smiled at her. For a moment, I stared into her beautiful eyes then I slid my arms around her waist.
And after a kiss that lasted for who knew, or cared, how long, we sauntered off in search of some privacy.
Part 3
When, after some unknown amount of time had passed, Lisa and I returned, Cheri and Dawson were standing in almost the exact place they'd been standing in when we left. What surprised both of us was Cheri letting Dawson kiss her and seemingly enjoying it.
"See I told you, Jeff." said Lisa. "All she needed to do was loosen up a bit to have a good time, although, I would have never picked Dawson Richards to provide my entertainment, but I guess if she's happy being with him, I can't complain."
"Me neither." I agreed.
But I wondered what thoughts were running through her head as they continued kissing. I just found it very difficult to believe that she was a happy camper right now. It didn't look like I'd have to wait very long before I found out what she was thinking. As soon as Cheri spotted us, she walked over to where we stood.
And Dawson followed her like a little puppy dog on a leash.
"Can I talk to you, Jeff?" asked Cheri.
"Of course." I replied. "What's on your mind?"
"I meant alone." said Cheri.
Lisa quickly shrugged her shoulders as if to okay. "I can talk to Dawson for a few minutes. That should keep him occupied for a little while."
"Thanks, Lisa." I replied. I turned to Cheri. "We should be able to talk over there." I motioned to a vacant corner near one of the doors into the room from which Lisa and I had just returned.
"When are we going home?" asked Cheri in a fluster. "I need to get out of this place."
"Aren't you having fun." I asked.
She stared at me askance making me wonder if I might have pushed her to far. "Fun?" she asked. "Hell, I'm having too much fucking fun." she admitted. "Today has been one hell of day, Jeff. Somehow I've been changed into a girl. And now I'm at a party that I would have avoided like the plague as a guy, but don't have the slightest idea why I decided to come as a girl. Now toss into that odd mix one Dawson Richards, computer geek.
"While you and Lisa were off doing whatever it was you were doing, Dawson and I have been ..." she rapidly scanned the room, "... having loads of fun. We've been ... kissing ... a lot." she sounded worried and very frightened. "I can't believe this Jeff. I'm actually kissing some guy ... and, even worse, liking it." She blushed brightly. "I think I'm going off the deep end, Jeff. Now, can we please go home, before something else weird happens to me."
"I suppose. I'll go over and tell Lisa that we're going." I smiled. Maybe Cheri had learned something useful tonight after all. "What about Dawson?" I asked.
"What about him?" she shot back callously. "I don't give a shit about him. I just want to go home."
But on the other hand, maybe she hasn’t learning anything tonight, I thought. "Wait here. I'll be right back." Then, leaving Cheri behind, I rejoined Lisa and Dawson."
"Where's Cheri?" asked Dawson like a little child wondering where his mother was.
"Little girl's room." I answered.
"You want to know something, Jeff?" Lisa asked playfully. "Dawson has it really bad for your cousin."
"Cheri is just so fabulous and beautiful." There was no mistaking that look in Dawson's eyes when he spoke of Cheri. Dawson was in love. "I can't even believe she's talking to me, let alone ignoring all those other guys and getting it on with me." I wondered what Cheri would think of this admission. "She's almost perfect." exclaimed Dawson.
"Almost?" Lisa and I simultaneously queried.
"Almost." repeated Dawson. "She's almost exactly the girl of my dreams." he sighed. "There's only one thing wrong. It's her hair. If I had a wish, then I'd wish she had long flame-red hair instead of her brunette shade.
As soon as I felt the familiar shiver, I looked back to where I'd left Cheri. It was startling to watch her dark hair redden to a fiery red. And I don't believe that anyone, other than myself, even noticed the change. But even I had to admit that that hadn't been such a bad wish, for the plain and simple reason that she really looked better with red hair.
"Cheri does have gorgeous hair." said Lisa.
"And the color's so totally perfect for her." added Dawson.
"So what do the two of you have planned for the rest of the night?" I asked Dawson.
"Stop prying." said Lisa. She turned to Dawson. "You don't have to tell nosey here anything you don't want to tell him."
"That's okay." replied Dawson. "I was planning on asking Cheri if she wanted to leave the party and go back to my place."
I smiled. "She did say something about wanting to leave."
"Then, once we get back to my place, I'm thinking of asking her if she'll ..." continued Dawson with a slight blush, "... well you know."
"You should wish." I laughed, not thinking about how I had phrased what I'd just said to him.
"Now that wasn't very nice, Jeff." reprimanded Lisa.
Dawson looked angry. "Yeah, what's wrong with that anyway. You know, if I want to wish that Cheri goes home with me and then has mad passionate sex with me for the rest of the night, then that's exactly what I wish for." He stuck out his tongue at me. "So there, smart ass."
I shivered, then felt oddly compelled to motion towards Cheri to join us. If she ever returned to being Dick again, I'm sure she won't even have to think twice about killing me.
Cheri strolled over to join us. "Are we leaving now?" she asked.
"I think so." I replied.
"Cheri?" asked Dawson.
"Yes, Dawson." she replied in a sexy tone that caught her completely off guard. She looked at me in a near total state of shock. "What now?" she mouthed.
"Would you go home with me tonight, Cheri?" asked Dawson.
"I was wondering when you were going to ask." she replied in that same sexy voice. She looked back at me again with a very confused 'what the hell is going on' expression on her face. But then she slowly turned back to Dawson. She slid her arm around his waist, while he slid his around hers. "I hope you guys don't mind me going home with Dawson tonight."
"Not at all, Cheri." I replied. But then I couldn't have stopped her anyway. And I didn't think Lisa, who had thought Cheri too uptight in the first place, would wish her into doing something else.
"Go for it girl." encouraged Lisa.
"And don't wait up for me either." said Cheri, as she and Dawson left together arm-in-arm.
I stared after them in stunned disbelief as we watched them leave. I knew now I'd have to find some way to keep her from ever finding out I was responsible for any of the things that had happened to her. She'd been worried about getting kissed by a guy and liking it. And now, it appeared she was going to get fucked, and probably enjoy it, before the morning came. I just knew she was going to kill when she became himself again. But my worried thoughts quickly dissipated as Lisa began gently rubbing her hands across my chest.
"Well, lover." said Lisa sexily. "If your cousin is going to be getting some hot and heavy action tonight, then I think the two of us should go back to your lonely place tonight so that I can get some more of that kind of action too." She gave me a wickedly sensuous grin. "What do you say? Are you up to it, stud?"
I guess I must have been up to it. After arriving at my place, Lisa and I humped madly for several hours. It was wonderful.
Deciding to take a small respite from our lovemaking, Lisa's head rested comfortably in the crook of my arm. "You're a fantastic lover, Jeff." She kissed my chest then slowly worked her way up to my lips.
I smiled at her. "Who am I to disagree with you?"
"You know something, lover?" said Lisa.
"What's that?" I replied.
"I wish we were married and could be together always like this."
I hadn't expected that. But when the shivering passed, I felt something on my finger. When I raised my hand to look, I saw a wedding band on my ring finger. And, on Lisa's finger, was the matching band.
I quickly scanned the room. It, as well as everything in it, had changed. It was no longer my room, it was ours, Lisa's and mine. I couldn't totally believe that Lisa was now my wife.
"Honey?" asked my new wife Lisa.
"Yes dear?" I replied.
"Have you given any more thought to what we were talking about last night?" Lisa cuddled closer.
I wondered what we'd talked about last night. Playing it safe, I answered, "No. Not really."
"But you promised you would." she whined. "You know how much I want children."
Oh, oh, I thought. "But I'm not certain I'm ready to be a father."
"Don't let that worry you, honey." pleaded Lisa. "I know you'll be the perfect father, honey." She kissed me again.
"I just don't know, dear."
"But you know I'm right." She kissed me again. If this continued much longer, I'd probably agree to anything. "You know how much I wish to be the mother of your children."
I shivered again, then watched as Lisa's belly swelled. From her size, I guessed she must be at least three months along, unless ... hadn't she said children.
I was going to be a father ... of at least one. What else could happen, I wondered. And Lisa, still lying in the crook of my arm, had fallen fast asleep, a vast smile of contentment spread across her sleeping face.
But sleep certainly sounded like a great idea.
I closed my eyes.
An incessant pounding on the door woke both Lisa and me up. A quick peek at my clock radio told me it was 4:15 in the morning.
"Don't worry about it honey." I told her. "I'll go down and see who's there."
"Be careful, honey."
I wondered who could be at the door at this time in the morning. But by now, I probably should have been able to guess. For as I opened the door, Cheri bounced across the threshold.
"You just got to let me in, Jeff." she said sounding worried.
"Can you come back later?" I asked. "Like, sometime after the sun comes up."
"Please, Jeff." she pleaded. "You just gotta hide me from Dawson for a while. He wants to marry me."
"So what did you tell him?" I asked sleepily. "Yes. Or no."
"That's not funny, asswipe." she replied angrily. "I don't want to marry him, or any other guy for that matter. I'm a guy myself - don't you remember. This has been one really fucking weird shit of day, Jeff.
"I've been changed into a girl. I dressed up and went to a party as this girl I became, even though I still have no idea why I ever wanted to go in the first place. Guys have pinched my ass. And they've groped my breasts. Every fucking one of them at that party came on to me. And I could see it in their eyes that they all wanted to have their way with me.
"I was able to resist until Dawson Richards that chess playing fucking computer geek extraordinaire came along. Then all of a sudden, I can't control myself. I kiss him. And I like it. For some totally inexplicable reason, I go home with him. And once there, we have almost non-stop sex for several hours."
"Did you like it?" I asked.
"No. I didn't like it, Jeff." She stared at me angrily and quite embarrassed. "I loved it. I loved getting fucked, Jeff. What the hell is going on here?"
Lisa stood at the top of the stairs.
Cheri spotted her. "Now I know why you wanted me to leave. Although I didn't know you had it in you. Should I ask why is your girlfriend is still here?"
"Girlfriend?" queried Lisa in surprise. She came part way down the stairs. "Just what are you talking about Cheri. I'm not Jeff's girlfriend, I'm his wife."
"Wife? How?" questioned a very confused Cheri. She took a long look at Lisa. "And how did you get pregnant?"
"The same way all girls do, silly." she replied. "Hasn't anyone ever explained the facts of life to you?" She sounded a little annoyed. "And yes, I'm pregnant. And I have been for the past two months with our first babies. The doctor says I'm going to have triplets." she proudly beamed.
Triplets? I felt faint.
"But this isn't possible." she remarked. "There is no fucking way in hell that this can be possible."
Lisa backed up to the top of the stair, obviously afraid of Cheri's continued rantings.
"Would you calm down, Cheri?" I demanded.
"I don't want to calm down. And I don't have to calm down if I don't wanna." she screamed back angrily at me. "There is something totally fucking weird going on around here today. And I've got to find out what it is before that geek Dawson Richards gets another chance at knocking me up."
"But you'd love being a mother, Cheri." shouted Lisa from the top of the stairs.
Cheri stared at Lisa. "Don't you understand, bitch." she screamed. "I am not a girl. I'm really a guy." she explained. "I don't want to be a girl. I don't want some guy inside me. I don't want to become pregnant. And I sure as hell don't want to be a fucking mother."
"But Cheri ..." began Lisa.
"Don't 'but Cheri' me, bitch. My name's ..."
"No, Cheri." I yelled. "Don't say something you'll regret later. Just calm down. Please."
Lisa looked at me with a puzzled expression.
"Maybe you're right, Jeff." said Cheri in a calmer voice. "But it's been a really weird day, you know. I sure as hell wish I knew the answers to whatever the fucking shit has been going on around here today."
I felt myself shiver. Damn, I thought, I'm in deep shit now.
Cheri's eyes filled with surprise before turning ice cold with anger and resentment. "This is all your goddamn fault, Jeff. Ever since yesterday morning you've been a 'grantor of wishes.' And just because you saved some strange fairy bug that looked liked a miniature girl from a damn spider's web, all of the people around you are having their wishes granted. It's all because of you that I'm a girl now."
"But you wished ..." I said.
"Shut up, Jeff." she hollered. "And it's all your fault that I've been kissing and fucking Dawson Richards ... and loving it." Cheri stared at me maliciously. "Now it's pay back time, soon-to-be-babe."
"But Cheri ..."
"Shut the fuck up, Jeff." she ordered again. "Now, unlike you, I'm going to explain exactly what I plan on doing to you." She sneered angrily. "I'm going to make you over into one hellaciously beautiful sexy nymphet, old buddy. I'm going to give you tits that will make mine seem tiny by comparison. I'm going to see to it that every campus low-life, geek, and nerd like Dawson Richards lusts after your luscious body, exactly like you'll be lusting after each and every one of them. You won't be a happy girl unless you're getting fucked." She gave me an evil smile. "How does that sound, my old buddy?" she spat.
"I don't think I'm going to like that at all."
"Good. Not that I thought you'd enjoy it anymore than I have." she grinned. "Now, are you ready for your total change of life, Jeff? And once I finish changing you, I'm going to try and get my old life back."
"Wait!" I hollered.
"Why should I?" she asked with a sneer.
"That wish granting was given to me, Cheri." I said far more calmly than I felt. "It was for something I did." I paused, but Cheri didn't seem to understand my meaning. "And while I'm sure you feel totally justified, and I suppose I can't really blame you, in wanting to punish me for helping you become who and what you are now, have you given any thought about what might happen if you made me someone else? If you transformed me into that girl as you've planned, you might also negate whatever it is that allows me to grant the wishes of the people around me. If that happened, you would never be able to get your old life back. And you'd be stuck exactly the way you are right now - forever."
I'd cried wolf. And from her startled expression, I knew I'd struck home. Fear showed in Cheri's face, as she said, "I hadn't thought about that." I had hoped she'd take a lot of time to think over what I'd just said, but my very simple expectations were quickly dashed. "That just means we'll have to change me first." she smiled smugly.
I'd bought myself some time.
Not much, but some. Would it be enough?
"Let's see. I don't want to mess this up." said Cheri. "I know. I've got it." she exclaimed. She looked me squarely in the eye. "I wish ... I was now the person that I've always been ... and always will be ... Cheryl Linley Wilters."
As I shivered, I saw a look of both confusion and panic spread across her face. She knew she'd made a mistake, but she didn't realize what it could have been. She'd totally forgotten one of her earlier wishes to remember to tell people her name was the girl's name I'd given her. And when her look of confused panic vanished, her mistake became totally and forever irrelevant.
"What am I doing here, Jeff?" asked Cheri in surprise.
Before I could answer, Lisa came down the stairs again. "Are you alright, Cheri?" she asked with concern.
I breathed a sigh of great relief.
"I don't really know, Lisa." she replied shaking her head. "The last thing I remember was waking up at Dawson's place." She smiled warmly at the thought of Dawson. "We had a really great time last night. And he asked me to marry him."
"He did?" said Lisa. "Why that's wonderful, Cheri."
"Where is Dawson anyway?" asked Cheri. Is he here? Did he bring me back here for some reason? I sure wish Dawson was here with me."
There was a persistent knocking at my door.
"I wonder who that can be at this time of the morning?" asked Lisa.
"Don't worry, dear. I'll get it." I told her. But, by then, the familiar shivering had passed. And anyway, I already knew it was Dawson pounding on my door. "Good morning, Dawson." I said just before I opened the door.
On hearing his name, Cheri's mood brightened considerably. And when she saw that it was really him, she ran to him. "What happened?" she asked.
"I don't know." answered Dawson. "I was so worried when I woke up earlier and discovered you were no longer next to me. I figured ... no, I hoped ... you might be here. I ran over here as quickly as I could."
"You did that because you were worried about me?" said Cheri in her best little girl lost voice.
I smiled. She had Dawson hooked. Now she was slowly reeling him in.
"Of course, I did." replied Dawson. "I love you, Cheri."
"Oh Dawson." she sighed. "You're just so wonderful." She hugged him and kissed him. She stared into his eyes with big soulful doe eyes. "Are you really sure you want to marry me, Dawson?" She smiled.
Gaffed and netted, I thought, but wisely I said nothing.
"Of course, I do, Cheri." he answered quickly. "You know, if I could have a wish right now, then I'd wish we were married and on our honeymoon in my parent's condo on Maui."
That was a nice wish, I thought, as I watched the two of them, locked in a passionate embrace, fade slowly away. I hoped Dawson and Cheri would be very happy together. I wished I could wish them happiness forever, but I knew that wasn't the way this wish-granting thingy of mine worked.
"Honey?" asked Lisa. "Why are you out of bed so early this morning?"
"I was just thinking, sweetheart." I replied.
"Are you coming back to bed, dear?"
"In just a minute or two."
"You know, Jeff. There's no reason you should be worrying about Cheri and Dawson. I mean, Dawson Richards is not the guy I would have ever thought she'd elope with." She smiled at me. "But she really must love him otherwise, she would never have run off to Hawaii with him."
I smiled back at Lisa. "I suppose that's true, dear."
"But, when she does get pregnant, I sure wish she'd have an attitude more like mine concerning motherhood and pregnancy."
"I don't think you'll ever need to worry about her attitude on either subject ever again, dear." I told her as the shivering passed.
"Let's go back to bed, honey."
"You go ahead. I'll be up in a bit."
"Are you sure you're alright?" Lisa asked me.
I could tell she was worried about me. "I'm fine. I just need to think a few things out."
"Don't take to long." She walked to bottom of the stairs then turned back to me. "I love you, Jeff." she told me.
"And I love you, Lisa." I replied.
She smiled then walked slowly up the stairs.
She loved me ... now. But I had always loved her. And yet I couldn't help but wonder how long this love of ours could possibly survive, when all it took was an errant wish made in my presence to alter forever what now was true.
I slowly walked up the stairs knowing that this might well be our first and last night as husband and wife.
But the woman with the pale green complexion and the pointed ears had said in my dream that I'd grant the wishes of others for a time of her choosing. I could only hope she considered one day a satisfactory period of time.
I know I did.
But only the passage of time would tell.
THE END