by TheoW » Fri May 25, 2012 10:59 pm
“Mmmppphhh,” the doctor agreed, sucking eagerly. Perhaps she was conducting another experiment to see just how functional Stephanie’s cock was.
Stephanie’s penis was rock hard, but even as the doctor worshiped it, she knew she wanted more. All thoughts of the doctor as an authority were gone (on both sides). Stephanie looked at her with only one thought left in her mind.
“Turn around,” she ordered gruffly.
The doctor hastened to comply, whimpering happily, and already tearing her skirt off. Her soaked panties followed, and she lay over the table exposing her wet, ready cleft to Stephanie’s tool.
Stephanie wasted no time in obliging her, driving her long, hard shaft deep inside and making the doctor come in the first of a whole series of orgasms. And while she pounded in and out, preparing to deposit her “sample,” the doctor screamed in pleasure, most particularly since she seemed to be feeling more and more incredible pressure on her clit with each thrust.
Almost as though it was growing.
* * *
The doctor who came to speak with Jessica was young and very thin, a testament to her own rigorous eating habits and exercise. She wore an expensive silk top that only someone as model-thin as she was could pull off, a sensible skirt, expensive shoes, and jewelry (treating teenager for overeating was a very lucrative specialty). She was talking to Jessica severely.
“So you see, chips and sweets are the worst things you can fill up on. I suggest a selection of raw vegetables – carrots, celery etc. to keep you full.”
“Yuck, vegetables,” Jessica made a face. “How about pizza?”
The doctor shuddered. “As a treat, once in a while. Consider broccoli and raw vegetables with some dipping sauce instead.”
She paused, scratching at the spot where she’d felt the shock while examining Jessica. It still tingled, which was odd.
Even odder, she was finding her own recommendations about vegetables and eating less persuasive. Jessica’s mention of pizza made her hungry for a large pie with extra cheese. Her stomach actually growled at the thought. And maybe some beer to wash it down, though she tried to avoid alcoholic beverages because of their excessive calories. Even thinking about beer seemed to make her stomach swell slightly, and she drove the idea out of her mind.
She tried to keep her thoughts and desires on broccoli, but found her imagination drenching the vegetable with a heavy cheese sauce instead.
“Here are those menu examples,” the nurse announced, handing in some papers.
The doctor nodded, frowning. It was very important to present the right kind of healthful appearance to the clients, and she hadn’t realized how much weight Julia had gained recently. She could barely squeeze into her uniform, and that candy bar wrapper so obvious in her pocket was hardly the example to set their clients. She would have to speak to her about that.
She also tugged at her shirt, as the silk seemed to be stretching and tightening across her chest for some reason. Yes, she would have to speak to her about those candy bars…more particularly, where she got them. The doctor hadn’t treated herself to a candy bar in ages, and suddenly felt she should. How else to understand her client’s desires than to experience them? Yes, that was it – she should really let herself go and have a pig-out party tonight, just to remember what it was like. It wasn’t like one night off her regimen would cause any real problems.
And so saying, she continued with her spiel to Jessica, even while she tugged at the stretching silk blouse (no longer looking so fashionable thanks to her expanding chest and tummy) and her increasingly tight skirt.
* * *
Amy Stetten opened her door impatiently, blowing a big bubble with her gum at the same time. A stern woman dressed in a conservative suit stood outside. Her eyes widened in shock.
“Ms. Stetten?”
“Totally,” Amy acknowledged, primping her overblown platinum-blond hair. “Like, who are you?”
“My name is Melinda Ricci.” The woman held her hand out automatically for a polite introductory handshake, then pulled it back as though stung as a static-like electric shock jumped to her hand.
“Oops, sorry,” Amy giggled. “Maybe I was, like, brushing my hair too much or something.”
Ms. Ricci flexed her hand to clear the strange aftershock from the contact. She looked at Amy’s over-bleached hair, over-made face, at the giant breasts barely contained in an undersized tube top, and the micro-miniskirt that barely covered her pussy, then shook her head.
“I wouldn’t have believed it. Charlotte described your new appearance, but I assumed it was some kind of joke.”
“Charlotte?” Amy screwed up her face.
“My daughter, Charlotte. On of your students.” When Amy still showed no sign of recognition, she assumed she had to be explicit. “Charlotte Ricci.”
“Oh, sure. Charlotte. Skinny little thing with no boobs, right?”
Ms. Ricci’s face was a mask of indignation. “How dare you discuss my daughter’s small boobs … um, breasts like that.”
“Got them from you, huh?” Amy asked, sizing up Ms. Ricci’s rather undistinguished profile critically. “Mini-tits.”
The mother flushed crimson. “How dare you? My tits are perfectly fine, thank you.” This time, her strange terminology regarding her breasts didn’t even register.
“Whatever,” Amy shrugged, preparing to close the door.
“Now, you wait one minute, Ms. … Ms. Stetten,” the mother continued, briefly pausing as she felt a momentary wave of dizziness. “I think you should know that your behavior is entirely unaccepible …. unrecepatable …. It’s, like, totally skeevy, you know? And I am going to … to …um, I'm going to …” she trailed off, staring at Ms. Stetten’s magnificent and barely restrained breasts, while unconsciously hugging her own chest rather mournfully. “So, like, did you get implants or something?”
“Uh uh. I just woke up with them. Aren’t they, like, fucking awesome?” she shook them for emphasis, setting up a magnificent jiggling that took a full minute to subside again.
Ms. Ricci’s throat felt unexpectedly dry. She watched Amy’s chest shake hypnotically.
“Just woke up with them,” she repeated weakly. “That’s…that’s impossible.”
Amy was watching her oddly and suddenly giggled.
“What’s wrong?” she demanded, trying to dispel the clouds that seemed to be settling around her thoughts.
“I can see your nips,” Amy announced.
Ms. Ricci looked down and realized she was right. For some reason, her nipples had erected. They were almost painfully stiff, and even looked to have grown to twice their normal size. She crossed her arms self-consciously in front of her chest and tried to rebuild her righteous indignation.
“Well, it doesn’t matter if you can or not, because, I am going to go straight to the school board and … and, um…” She stopped again, and looked down in disbelief. There was a slowly growing pressure underneath her arms, almost like …
“Oh, look!” Amy pointed. “You’re not as small as I thought you were.”
“Oh my God!” Ms. Ricci cried. “My tits!”
Her consternation was well founded. Indeed, the objects in question were slowly growing before her eyes, in a clearly impossible manner. Clearly impossible except that she could feel her bra tightening and binding her as they pushed and stretched it. Could see the swelling globes overflowing the cups, and watched in astonishment as her carefully tailored business suit became increasingly distorted. The lapels of the jacket were pushed out, then apart as her burgeoning boobs popped out between them, the buttons of her shirt underneath showing more and more strain and barely keeping it together as gaps revealed more and more deliciously creamy breast flesh.
Her astonishment with this transformation almost disguised the others. The skirt of her suit felt tighter as her ass ballooned into a proper bubble butt. Her legs lengthened, making her skirt shorter. Her fingernails lengthened from her normal practical cut to uselessly long, as well as turning an improbably shade of sparkling violet as polish she had never seen before materialized on top of them.
“Ooh. How are you doing that to your hair?” Amy asked.
“What?” Ms. Ricci gasped, grabbing at a lock and trying to see it. It was lightening before her eyes, becoming a matching shade of platinum blond to Amy’s.
“Wow, you’ve got real boobies now,” Amy said in appreciation. “That is, like, so cool.”
Ms. Ricci grasped at her chest in disbelief, her thoughts seeming to swirl and lose focus.
“My boobies…um, titties, um … what’s that word? I can’t seem to think…” The buttons on her shirt began popping open one by one.
Amy nodded, snapping her gum loudly. “I know just how you feel. Thinking’s hard.”
By this time, Ms. Ricci’s transformation seemed to stabilize. She was taller, younger, bleached-blond, and impossibly stacked, with DDD sized breasts which overwhelmed her bra and shirt. She tried to cover herself with the jacket, but it was much too small. However, the motion brought her hands into contact with the exposed flesh of her oversized breasts, and the resulting jolt dispersed whatever remaining thoughts and protests were in her head. She smiled at Amy.
“Omigod! My boobs are fucking awesome! Charlotte is, like, going to be so totally jealous.” She laughed as she remembered Amy’s description. Charlotte was such a skinny little thing. “Mini-tits.” She giggled at the term. It was totally correct. However, as pleased as she was with her sudden upsizing, she looked at her business skirt and jacket with newfound disgust. “Ewww! And my clothes are, like, totally grody. I look like someone’s mother.”
To be honest, the effect of the oversized breasts hanging naked out of the undersized jacket front didn’t really suggest anyone’s mother (sigh – at least not in my experience), but Amy seemed to understand perfectly.
“Oh, totally. You should, like, borrow some of my things. My clothes are totally hot. Hey, we could go out together. I know this great little bar. The guys are, like, really, really friendly. And they even give you free drinks if you take your top off.”
Ms. Ricci giggled. “Like I wouldn’t do that anyway.”
Amy laughed, offering her a piece of gum. “Totally.”
And giggling and chewing together, the two women walked off to plan their evening.
* * *
Callista felt yet another tingle surge through her body, much stronger this time. Beth had tried to help as best she could, but whatever was affecting her was clearly beyond her experience as well. They had agreed to call in one of the full-time and more experienced mages from the Institute to investigate.
That left Callista frustrated, but right now, she had the more pressing need of a change of clothes. She was nearly back to her original size, and threatening to burst out of Danae’s borrowed things. She hurried into a Gap she’d seen, and walked as quickly as she could in her painfully tight shoes towards the back. A woman looked up as she passed.
“May I help you find …?” she started to ask before pausing in surprise.
And with some reason. Callista now made an unusual figure indeed. Her shirt was at least three sizes too small and had pulled up to completely expose her stomach. It was so tight that it clearly outlined the way her breasts were overflowing the undersized cups of the training bra she had borrowed. Her jeans were knee-level now, and looked like they were painted on. And even at this distance, the woman could tell they were unbuttoned, apparently too tight to close.
“Oh, hi,” Callista faltered. “Um, no thanks, I’m just looking for…”
Her answer was interrupted by a small gasp. It almost looked like she was taking in a deep breath - the opening of her jeans spread further apart and the zipper slid down, while her shirt rose up. There was also a slight tearing sound from the sleeves of her shirt, overstretched beyond reclamation. It looked like her toes were about to burst through her shoes. The woman was so surprised at her opening clothes and shocked expression, she didn’t notice as Callista seemed to jump a full two inches in height at the same time.
Callista tried to laugh it off.
“Um, growth spurt,” she offered, grabbing some new jeans and hurrying towards the changing rooms, her gait distorted by trying to walk in the impossibly tight jeans.
The clerk shook her head. What some girls wouldn’t wear to get attention.
* * *
The medical profession seemed to be having a bad day.
At the eating disorder clinic, arriving patients found that the whole staff seemed to be suffering from the very problem they claimed to treat. Receptionists were dressed in ridiculously tight dresses that rode up unflatteringly around thick thighs and ballooned behinds. The nurses’ uniforms looked painted on, many showing gaps between the buttons, revealing glimpses of bountiful, soft breasts overflowing their bra cups, and full tummies that stood out round and jigging. Even most of the doctors seemed overweight, making their otherwise fashionable dress look unprofessionally tight and undersized. Everyone seemed a little flustered and out of breath, as though they weren’t used to carrying around this much weight.
And despite every attempt to be courteous, professional and didactic, almost every patient would find their problem was much, much worse after meeting with them.
* * *
At the psychiatric observation wing, Dr. Anderson was surprised to see how tired and worn everyone looked. Almost every nurse, secretary, aide and physician looked haggard and wan, as though they’d ages a decade or two over the course of a day. He was particularly surprised to see that Dr. Smith, who was several years his junior and usually full of energy, was dragging through the end of her shift, looking exhausted. To his surprise, he noticed for the first time that she had a few gray hairs mixed in among her blond, really astonishing for someone in her twenties. Though admittedly, at the moment, he would have assumed she was twice that age.
“Oh, and Ms. Brantley checked out AMA.”
“What? The delusional old lady?”
“Yes,” Dr. Smith hesitated. “Though I’ll admit, she didn’t seem as old as I thought when I first saw her. In fact…” She drummed her fingers, knowing how unbelievable what she wanted to say would sound. She chose to skip it. “In any case, she was very nice. Insisted on going around and shaking everyone’s hand before she left. Very sweet. Her daughter…or maybe it was her granddaughter – she looked like she couldn’t have been more than 16 – came by to help her leave.” Another pause and wrinkling of the brow (and it wrinkled very easily indeed now). “Come to think of it, once her granddaughter showed up, I never saw her again. But she seemed much better this morning.”
“Very good.” He patted her hand paternally, surprised to receive a mild shock in return. “You should get some sleep. You look tired.”
“I feel tired,” she admitted, rubbing her legs soothingly. She looked down at her unexpectedly bony knees in alarm. “Um, can you get arthritis in one day?”
He laughed, assuming it was a joke. “No.”
“Then I'm even more tired than I thought. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
* * *
The doctor who had been examining Stephanie brushed at her skirt in concern. She still seemed to be leaking fluids after her shameful, inexcusable and completely inappropriate encounter with her new patient, and her bottom felt squishy. Perhaps that explained why her clit was still so swollen. She had been absolutely astounded by how large it looked when she went to clean up, and even now, she could see a slight bulge in her skirt from where it stood out.
She hoped no one else guessed what had happened. She had already arranged for Stephanie to have a private room while she stayed at the clinic (for the nature of her affliction, the doctor told herself, but more to insure their own privacy). She couldn’t believe she’d let herself go like that. It was like the girl’s cock (she now admitted Stephanie’s story might be true) had some kind of magical power over her.
She adjusted her seat again and smoother her hair. One of the nurses (a remarkably pretty one, with a smoking body – funny the doctor hadn’t noticed that before) handed her a paper. The woman looked at the doctor’s still slightly disheveled hair and clothes with obvious disapproval.
The doctor seemed distracted, staring straight ahead. Only after a few seconds did the nurse realize she was staring at her breasts! Something she never expected from another professional, let alone another woman.
“Doctor!”
The physician looked at her very strangely, a weird gleam appearing in her eye. And then, to the nurse’s horror, an even stranger bulge began to rise from the doctor’s skirt lap.
“Doctor!” she gasped again.
There was no mistaking the intent or gleam which now hardened in the doctor’s lustful eye. And there was no mistaking the increasingly distinct bulge that tented her skirt.
But somehow, as though by magic, at the moment of realization, the horror she felt disappeared, replaced almost immediately with overwhelming lust. She looked down again with smoldering, desirous eyes.
“Oh, doctor,” she moaned, her voice as transformed as her attitude.
And minutes later, the “doctor-nurse relationship” took on an entirely new meaning.
And the nurse would be the next woman to find out what a hard-on felt like.
* * *
“This has been so much fun,” Kim said, finding her voice after another round of laughing. “It’s totally worth whatever trouble we’ll get in.”
“I agree,” Danae said, feeling happier than she could remember. She and Kim connected on so many levels. Even sitting and watching lame TV while drinking and making jokes was heaven. In fact, the only way it could be better was …
She paused, watching the way Kim brushed her hair back into place. She was so beautiful, and nice, and funny. And desirable. Could Kim ever feel that way in return? A sweet, desperate longing for something more was filling her, and she leaned in a little closer.
Kim saw the movement and hesitated. Just for a second, she seemed ready to reciprocate, keeping her head in position except for turning it slightly as though to accept Danae’s offer, but at the last moment, she pulled back. She arranged her hair again nervously, and spoke rapidly to cover her discomfort.
“So, maybe I’d better be going. I need to get my brother’s car back and everything.”
“Let him walk,” Danae said, leaning back to give Kim some safe space again. Damn! Why did it have to be so difficult and awkward? She was sure there was some interest there.
“And how about your mom and sister? What happens when they find we spent the whole day here?”
“They’ll never know. Callista doesn’t know when I'm supposed to get out, and my mom … well, I don’t think she’ll notice if I don’t want her to.” She smirked mysteriously at this comment. It also gave her another idea. “Hang on.”
She raced upstairs, closed her door, and set out the dolls. She made a Kim doll, and then set it down own against her own other, holding hands like they had before.
And then, she moved them even closer, so that the Kim doll’s lips touched her own.
Her heart racing, she ran back downstairs.
“How about another drink?” she offered.
Kim seemed to look at her strangely. A flush moved into her cheeks.
“Um, ok. I really should get his car back but, um…” She trailed off awkwardly, her eyes fixed on Danae as she went to refill their glasses.
Danae sat back down on the couch next to her and offered a toast.
“To us.”
“Us,” Kim echoed softly. Her cheeks pinked even more and she watched Danae drink without touching her own. She felt her own pulse unexpectedly quicken. “So, um, what we were doing before…or, you know, what we almost did..”
“You mean email the crank video dedication?” Danae asked mischievously.
“No, no. After that. Just now, when I, you know, got nervous.”
“Oh, yeah, sorry about that. It just seemed so right. You’re such a wonderful person, and now that we’re friends, I couldn’t help myself. But I know some people can freak out. It comes with the territory, you know? I won’t try it again.”
Kim squirmed nervously. “No!” She paused at the unexpected strength of her reaction. “I mean, you don’t have to do that. It’s not your fault. And … and a little kiss between friends is fine, right? Doesn’t have to mean anything more than that?”
“It doesn’t have to,” Danae allowed flirtatiously.
“And sometimes girls practice together anyway, right?” Kim was playing with her hair, hoping she didn’t seem too desperate. “You know, to get better at it.”
“That’s the excuse.”
Kim’s blush deepened. “So, if, like, you know, you, um, wanted to…” She leaned forward slightly, her lips moistened and her eyes closed.
Danae felt a surge of triumph and another wave of desire. She almost felt like teasing Kim a little longer and prolonging the moment, but the young girls’ nervously excited face and new anticipation were just too irresistible. She leaned forward and gently touched her lips to Kim’s. There was a slight, nervous sigh as Kim received the kiss, then a deeper breath, more relaxed and pleased. She held the kiss, savored it, and then began kissing back enthusiastically.
Kisses deepened. Hands began to roam places they probably shouldn’t have. Danae felt Kim’s nipples harden as she brushed her fingers along her chest.
And then, unfortunately, the front door opened.
Both girls jumped in surprise. They resorted disarranged clothes and brushed their hair back into place. Both tried to hide their rapid breathing and racing hearts, though neither could disguise the deep blushes on their faces as Callista walked into the room.
“Cal!” Danae called in an overenthusiastic and you-are-so-not-interrupting-something greeting. Then, her eyes went wide at seeing her sister back to full size. Even though she’d assumed it would happen, the change was still impressive. “Oh, wow, you’re, like, um, better.”
Callista nodded, then glanced nervously at Kim, unwilling to discuss it further in front of a stranger.
“This is my friend, Kim,” Danae explained.
“Nice to meet you, Kim,” Callista smiled.
Kim was looking at her in confusion.
“You’re Callista? But, like, when I saw you this morning, you were, um …” She started to hold her hand a few feet above the ground but stopped. That was ridiculous. She must have seen someone else.
“You’re home early, aren’t you?” Callista asked Danae.
“What? Oh, no. It was just a half day. Teacher meetings.”
“That’s nice. Listen, I just stopped home to change. I had some, um, problems with my clothes.” The girls finally noticed her odd assortment of ill-fitting emergency purchases. “I'm going to meet Mom and let her see everything’s all right.” She turned to Kim. “Kim, would you like to stay for dinner? We can bring something in or all go out together.”
There was something very suggestive, yet relaxed about the way she said “together.” She also added a warm but slightly conspiratorial glance to Danae as she asked this. Kim missed it entirely, but Danae caught it and felt a shock of recognition. Callista knew. Her sister knew exactly how she felt about Kim (and, presumably, women in general) and was not only comfortable with it, but actually seemed eager to accommodate them.
While Danae stared in surprise, her feelings towards Callista undergoing yet another change, Kim shifted nervously.
“Well, um, I need to return my brother’s car, and I have the game tonight.”
“That’s fine. Maybe another time then. I'm sure we’ll be seeing more of you, and it was very nice to meet you.”
Callista walked upstairs to her room. Kim looked after her. Despite her intimidating physical appearance and odd choice for clothes, she seemed nice.
“Hey, your sister’s cool,” she told Danae.
Danae was still looking in confusion towards where Callista had disappeared and nodded.
“Yeah,” she admitted, still surprised. “She is.”
Kim still hadn’t left when Callista returned and said goodbye, and Danae noticed she kept stealing embarrassed and hungry glances at her, presumably still under the influence of the spell. She suspected Kim couldn’t be satisfied until she had moved the dolls apart again.
Then again, why would she want her to be? Kim was still breathing a little irregularly, and her eyes kept straying to Danae’s chest and legs, apparently with previously unrealized interest. The magically facilitated kiss seemed to have awakened all kinds of new feelings and possibilities.
As if in confirmation, Kim shifted uneasily in her seat. Danae could have sworn she was rubbing herself a little, and the front of her shirt revealed that her nipples had stiffened again. She leaned forward, touching Danae’s leg in a friendly but intimate gesture.
“Danae, I …”
She seemed ready to begin another passionate kiss, but this time as a prelude for even more. Her hand was trembling as it caressed Danae’s leg, but suddenly stopped. She leaned back, flushed and alarmed.
“Danae, I don’t know…maybe I should leave. I feel … feel weird or something. I think I just need some time to think this through.”
The depth of feeling in her eyes told Danae all she needed to know. She felt incredible elation and frustration at the same time. The desire was obvious. She suspected the attraction (though magically facilitated) was genuine, and went beyond simple friendship. Indeed, she wondered if that might have been part of the reason Kim finally approached her after a few years – she might have finally worked her way subconsciously through her conflicts and was ready for exactly this.
But now to have her get cold feet when they were so close to something she was sure would be wonderful. She couldn’t wait for second thoughts and missed-chance-regrets, not when she knew it was right. She wouldn’t let Kim make a mistake by being afraid. She couldn’t allow that.
As Kim started to get up, Danae held her hand. She could feel Kim’s conflict and attraction by the way she squeezed back.
“Wait. Before you go, let me just take care of one thing.”
“What?”
“You’ll see.”
Kim was confused, but also obviously torn. She nodded, and Danae ran upstairs one more time to her room. This was it. She even made a mental promise to herself to stop using the dolls if this worked the way she hoped. With trembling hands, she lovingly picked up the Danae and Kim dolls. She gently kissed the Kim doll, and let her tongue move across the doll’s chest and upper body, imagining Kim’s excitement growing and crystallizing towards Danae. She gave the doll’s sex the gentlest flick of her tongue, visualizing Kim’s arousal growing beyond control. She knew the magic worked. She was in control. And it would be the most wonderful thing in the world.
Just to be sure, she finally positioned the Kim doll with its face between the Danae’s doll’s legs. No point in not making sure the intention was clear.
She had just finished positioning the dolls and making the appropriate incantation, when she heard a sharp hissing of shocked breath behind her back. In sudden, sinking panic, she realized she hadn’t closed and locked her door this time.
She turned slowly, sickeningly, and found, just as she knew she would, Kim standing in the door, her face a white mask of shock and disbelief. Her eyes darted wildly from doll to doll, seeing the transformed images of her classmates.
“I…I…” she stammered. She had been flooded by sudden, overpowering arousal while waiting, and couldn’t wait for Danae to return. She assumed it meant her doubts had finally disappeared, and she had come to tell Danae that she didn’t have any more fear or confusion about what she wanted.
And then she saw the dolls.
Stephanie and Jessica - their bodies perfectly matching the bizarre changes that had astonished everyone the last few days. A little girl that resembled Ms. Jameson – and she remembered the rumor about Ms. Richards dragging a screaming little girl away. Danae holding some kind of wand, just like a witch from a bad movie. She remembered Danae’s reaction when she mentioned magic on their way here, and the suspicion her answer had created.
And then, she saw the Kim doll, burying her face between Danae’s legs.
Her eyes widened even further. Her face changed from white of shock to blotched as alternating waves of red and white reflected the boiling emotions within her. Her lip trembled.
“Oh…my…God.”
Danae stood up and tried to hide the dolls behind her.
“No! Kim, wait. You don’t understand.”
Kim simply stared as she finally found her voice, albeit unnaturally low and controlled.
“You…you did it. You did all this. Oh my God! You’re really a witch? YOU’RE A WITCH!”
The last came out as a shout as her voice lost its control. It also demanded a response, and she stared at Danae with bulging eyes until she reluctantly admitted a slight nod. Kim swayed slightly in shock. Danae was a witch.
“Kim, please. I can explain.” She held out her hand imploringly.
Kim shot her own hands up defensively, ready to strike out in horror.
“Get away from me, you freak!” Her eyes swept the room again, with its (literally) damning evidence. Her whole body was trembling, but with disgust and rage, and in a parody echo of the excitement she’d felt mere minutes before. “My God! Wait until everyone knows. They’re going to kill you.”
Danae paled. She knew Kim was speaking dramatically and metaphorically, but in truth (and based on historical precedent), she might be literally right.
“No, Kim, wait! You can’t tell anyone about…”
Kim was staring at the Danae and Kim dolls again, her chest heaving.
“And that!” she screamed. “That’s what you think of me? You’re turning me into your sex slave?”
“Noooo!” Danae wailed. “I like you. I thought you liked me. This was just to help us along.”
“Help us?” Kim spat. “HELP US? You were going to rape me!” Her eyes reflected pure hate. “Help us! No wonder I've had these weird feelings the last few months. No wonder I kept looking at you and thinking about you.”
“No,” Danae cried, tears beginning to stream. “You don’t understand. That was…it must have been real. I only started using magic on you a few days ago.”
“Only started a few days ago?” Kim mimicked savagely. “Yeah, I’ll bet.”
“No, really!”
“Oh, and that makes it all right then, doesn’t it? You’ve just been twisting me a couple of days? I've seen what you can do in a couple of days.” She nodded in fury at the other dolls. “Destroy a few lives, here and there. Why not?”
“No, you don’t understand.” Danae fell to her knees. “It was just to teach them a lesson. I was going to change them back.”
Kim stared a few seconds. “What about my changes, Dani? The stuff you’re making me do? Were you going to change me back too?” And when Danae had to hesitate even longer before she could answer, she added in a whisper. “I thought so.”
She started to turn away, but Danae ran to stop her.
“Please, wait. I never meant to hurt you. I … I love you.”
Kim laughed, her rage and bitterness still overflowing.
“Love? Is that what you call it? Is this love for a witch? When you humiliate people? Control them? Twist them into … little sex puppets for your amusement?” It seemed an apt description for the dolls.
“It was different with you.”
“Yeah, right. Get the fuck away from me, Danae. I could never love you. Not after … this.” She swept her hand around the room contemptuously. “It’s horrible, it’s perverted, and …and it’s the real you, isn’t it? Oh my God. You’re sick, Danae. I'm only glad I found out in time. Before we did something that … that disgusts me to even think about now.”
Danae slumped, utterly crushed. She shook her head in denial, tears still streaming.
“No, please…”
“I only hope they can help you when they take you away. You and your whole family.”
Danae stiffened. The tears stopped.
“My…family?”
“Don’t tell me they don’t know about this. I’ll bet they’re all witches. I heard stuff about your sister. Now it all makes sense.”
“No, she isn’t. They’re not!” Danae imagined Callista’s and her mother’s reactions when they found out. “Please! I’ll make everything right again. Just don’t tell them.”
“Them and everyone else.”
Kim hesitated long enough to make sure Danae was properly crushed by the threat. Danae, for her part, was looking around hopelessly. Everything had gone so wrong so quickly. There was all the evidence for her short-lived triumphs and hopes – the dolls, the wand, the ring…
She froze, her eyes darting back to the ring Tim had given her. She had forgotten all about it when she got so caught up in her voodoo magic. What had he said? A love charm? How did it work? Could it work?
Making sure Kim was still there, Danae darted across to her table and picked up the ring. Kim assumed she might be preparing to flee, and was thus surprised to see her turn with an unexpected look of calm in her face.
“Kim, I'm sorry. About this mess, and about us. I really, really like you.”
Kim shook her head. “Danae, I could never like you after this. Never again. Goodbye.”
“Kim!”
Danae matched the exclamation by tossing the ring. Surprised, Kim moved to catch it reflexively, not even recognizing it. She opened her palm, saw the ring lying on it, blinked once, twice, three times…
And then, all the anger and animosity seemed to dissolve away. Her face relaxed, a happy but strangely empty smile forming on her face.
“I'm sorry for scaring you, Danae,” she said, coming back into the room and – to Danae’s astonishment – sitting on the bed. “Please forgive me.”
Danae watched her uncertainly.
“Kim, are you all right?”
“I'm fine. Now,” she clarified. She looked at Danae with openly adoring eyes. “I love you!”
Danae felt alternating waves of relief, disbelief and some renewed excitement.
“You do?”
“Uh huh.” She started to lift her shirt up. “Would you like me to make love with you now?”
“What?” Danae was flabbergasted. “Um, no! Kim, what are you doing?”
Kim shrugged. “Sorry. I thought you wanted me naked.”
Danae still couldn’t quite figure out what was happening. Apparently, the love charm had worked, but not in a way she had anticipated.
“Do you want to be naked?”
Kim shrugged again. “It doesn’t matter what I want. Only what you want.”
A new fear began gnawing Danae’s inside.
“Aren’t you still angry?”
“I can’t be angry at you. I love you.”
“Um, that’s great. I, um, love you too.”
Kim giggled and started to pull her shirt off again. “That’s good. Can we get naked now?”
Danae held her arm, suspending the shirt tantalizingly above her exposed breasts.
“Maybe we should talk first. About how you feel.”
Kim managed to pull her shirt off despite Danae’s restraint. She reached for her bra clasp.
“I told you how I feel. I love you.”
“Um, yeah. But what else? What about all this?” She indicated the hateful dolls.
Kim looked at them without emotion.
“Whatever you do is all right with me. I love you.”
Danae gritted her teeth. The refrain was beginning to grate on her.
“But what about the stuff I did to you? I made you kiss me. And I was going to make you …” She paused, realizing she was finally admitting it to herself. “I was going to force you to have sex with me.”
Kim laughed. “You don’t have to force me to have sex with you. That’s what I live for.” She finished removing her bra, revealing a glorious pair of perky teenaged breasts.
And for the first time she could remember, Danae had no interest in them whatever. She swallowed hard, trying to force back the bile that rose with her sickening fear and increasing certainty. She had a sudden insight into who and what Tim really was – and for the first time in her life, knew real fear for it.
“Kim, stop. Stop getting undressed.”
Kim stopped, her hands down at her side, making no move to cover her nakedness.
“Kim, remember? You said I was going to rape you?”
The empty smile never flickered. “That was silly of me. Please forgive me.”
“No!” Danae caught her voice and tried to stay calm. “I mean, I don’t have to forgive you. You didn’t do anything wrong. You’re supposed to forgive me.”
Kim’s smile was fixed. “I forgive you.”
“Not like that!” Danae closed her eyes, trying to stay calm. “OK, let’s think about this. What…what about your other feelings? Besides that you love me?” She threw out the last as preemption when Kim seemed ready to announce it again.
“What other feelings?”
“Well, anger, fear, something. Aren’t you worried about what I've been doing? About what I just did to you?”
“You didn’t do anything to me. I love…”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. You love me. Oh, God…” Danae seemed to sag again. “What about your brother’s car? And you have to get ready for the game tonight, remember?”
The smile stayed as fixed, steady and empty as ever.
“Your family. Your friends…”
The smile was unfazed.
“Um….music!” Danae said in triumph. She held up on of the CDs they had argued about. “Remember how much you hate this group?”
Kim blinked. “I can’t hate them if you like them.”
“Yes you can! Remember how much you hated their lyrics? Their music?”
“None of that matters anymore,” Kim said sweetly.
“It does matter!” Danae shot back. “It’s … it’s what made you you.”
“I'm better now.”
And with that simple-minded declaration, Danae knew utter despair.
When Callista and their mother arrived home, they found Danae sitting ashen-faced and miserable in a kitchen chair. She looked up at them with dark-circled, haunted eyes, and – although she was sure she had cried herself completely out an hour ago – promptly burst once more into tears.
And seeing her face, even without knowing anything else, Callista immediately knew that same despair.
* * *
Some time later, Danae was still shaking and crying, as she tried to tell the story through again.
“And…and the magic started to go wrong. And I'm so sorry I used it on you! And I … I used it on Kim. And at first, it was wonderful. And then…and then…” A huge sob. “I just wanted her to like me again.”
She broke down completely, unable to keep repeating the story, physically sick every time she even thought about it.
Callista was holding her tightly.
“It’s all right, Dani,” she lied. “I understand. And I've already called the Institute. They’ll be able to fix this. You’ll see.”
Danae was rocking back and forth.
“No,” she cried softly. “It can’t ever be fixed. I can’t ever be fixed. I'm…I'm a monster.”
“Never!” Callista assured her. “You just made a wrong choice. We all do.”
Their mother didn’t seem so ready to dismiss Danae’s self assessment. She was still dealing with the shock of what had been done personally to her, but even more with the enormity of what her younger daughter had been capable of. And one other detail kept sticking in her mind. She cleared her throat.
“But why did you do all that? The kissing. And use a love charm on her? Why would you want Kim to …” She was going to mention sex, but changed her mind. “To fall in love with you?”
Danae just cried harder. Callista looked at her mother a little more severely than she should. This hardly seemed an important point under the circumstances, but as long as they were finally bringing things into the open, they needed to make sure nothing was held back.
“Mom, Danae is a lesbian.”
Maia gasped, her mind reeling yet again. Indeed, she seemed far more devastated by this news that she had about the horrors the magic had wrought.
Because she understood magic.
“Dani, is this true?” she asked.
Danae nodded, afraid to look up.
“A … a …” Maia struggled to even say the word. “You’re gay?”
Another nod. This time, Danae lifted her head a little, hopefully.
And the expression she saw on her mother’s face only started another despairing torrent of tears.
* * *
Far away, someone else saw those tears and grimaced in distaste. He approved of Danae’s anguish, of course, and her despair was absolutely delicious (and as an unexpected bonus, he suspected he now had a way to get to the mother), but the overall plan had been overturned. The Institute was already alerted, and he would need to go underground (perhaps literally, in his case) until their attention was elsewhere.
Such a shame. Things had been going so well. And she had been capable of so much more - was still capable of so much more, he corrected himself. He had little doubt as to her real nature or her future, no matter what temporary setbacks they might suffer.
He could afford to be patient. He had all the time in the world.
And as if to prove the point, he closed his pocket watch with a satisfying click and promptly disappeared.
* * *
The team searched through the abandoned store front that Danae had identified as Tim’s. There were two full CSA agents, a trainee, and Gregor. The agents were scanning the walls and remaining furniture with crystalline lenses and wands, while the trainee watched respectfully. One of the agents was a middle-aged man, a veteran close to retirement named Dawkins, while the other was much younger, a rookie named Rogers. The trainee, a very serious looking black-haired young woman, kept stealing glances at Gregor, who wandered about in a deceptively nonchalant manner. She had heard some interesting stories about him.
“Long gone,” Dawkins confirmed. “A few residual traces. Natural teleportation I’d guess. Untraceable.”
“As I feared,” Gregor sighed. “Not a very satisfying conclusion to let him escape.”
“What do you think we’re dealing with, sir?”
Gregor’s eyes sparkled mischievously. “I think that’s a good chance for your new partner to show us what he knows. Rogers, what do you think?”
Rogers scowled, as though he’d been presented with a pop quiz in an unpopular class.
“Demonic, obviously, rather than a renegade. Probably a low level demon based on the way it cut and ran.” He paused, then added provocatively. “If it exists.”
“If?” Gregor asked sharply.
“Speculation, sir.”
“Careful, Rogers,” Dawkins cautioned.
“Not at all,” Gregor reassured him. “I encourage it. Feel free to speculate.”
“Quite frankly, I wonder if we can even trust the girl,” Rogers continued. “I mean, she’s a demon herself. Even if she didn’t make the whole story up as an excuse, there’s the real possibility that they were partners. They could have been working together until the spells went bad, then she turned informant to save herself.”
“Ah.” Gregor nodded, but his smile had faded. “Certainly an interesting theory.”
“We’re still trying to track down all the secondary victims and effects. That chaotic magic was completely out of control. Probably deliberate.”
“Perhaps. Chaotic magic is notoriously difficult to predict or control. Still, I suspect most of the victims were accidental.”
“But not all of them. She admits she cast those spells of her own volition. That’s bad enough, in my opinion.”
“She’s a lonely, frustrated girl,” the trainee cut in. When they all turned to look at her, she blushed but continued bravely. She had never met Danae, and had been shocked at the briefing when they’d come to investigate the disaster, but somehow still felt she understood her. “As if high school wasn’t bad enough – I mean, everything’s a big deal when you’re a teenager, remember – it’s that much worse when you’re alone. And to get a chance to turn the tables? Go from no one to someone? Heck, if someone had offered me a chance to get back at people when I was sixteen, I would have taken it.”
Rogers glared at the interruption, but Gregor smiled again.
“Excellent point.” He looked her over a few more seconds, and then added. “Care to make your own speculations about our elusive target?”
She hesitated, feeling Rogers’ anger at being shown up burn across the air between them, but emboldened by Gregor’s smile, she continued.
“I agree about the demon part, but I think we’re looking for something much more powerful – an archdemon or even a true devil. He seems to be more interested in corruption than pain. He probably gains power from his victims – both directly from his recruits and indirectly through their victims – especially through moral inversion or perversion. That’s where the old idea of ‘selling your soul’ originated.”
“Superb!” Gregor crowed. “Go on.”
“The pocket watch Danae mentioned would be unusual for a mere affectation. I suspect it represents a hard physical focus, either connecting him to his victims or an anchor to our world, like the traditional lamp for a genie. Using an anchor makes him virtually invulnerable to physical attacks, though it has the weakness of giving anyone holding it control over him, and if it’s destroyed, he’d probably be banished automatically. If we ever meet him, that should be our primary target.”
Gregor pretended to be overcome.
“Amazing! Absolutely outstanding! Rogers, you could learn a thing or two from your trainee.”
“Yes, sir,” Rogers grumbled through gritted teeth, while flashing poisonous stares at her.
“Oh, sorry,” she blushed. “I didn’t mean …” she started to apologize to Rogers, but when she saw that his anger made that impossible, she turned back to Dawkins instead. “Sometimes I get carried away, sir. It’s all speculation.”
“And brilliant speculations, I should say,” Gregor put in heartily. He paused and winked, adding more quietly. “At least since they correspond to mine. Well done. Brava.”
She blushed again.
“You should make an extraordinary agent,” Gregor complimented. “Are you taking a professional name or keeping yours?”
“I’ll probably take one,” she admitted. “More traditional and kind of fun. But I thought I’d wait to choose one until they assigned me a partner.”
“Good point. And a good partner is vitally important. I’ll speak to Zhukov myself.”
He shook her hand enthusiastically, then went back to examining the residual magic traces. Dawkins also gave her a brief congratulatory nod, though he didn’t entirely approve of the way she’d shown up Rogers.
And if it were possible for Rogers himself to view her more venomously, the implication about preferential treatment from Zhukov was all that was needed to make it so. It established both a personal and professional enmity that would come back to haunt her.
But at the moment, Yuri had no way of knowing her reputation had just been established.
Gregor came back over to speak quietly with Dawkins while she and Rogers were occupied.
“Is that typical for her?”
Dawkins nodded.
“Amazing.”
“Yes. She’s very bright. A little shy though. And …”
“Yes?”
He shrugged. “Not sure about her mental toughness. You know she only joined the CSA because she’s been turned down for Institute membership twice already?” (The Institute gave preferential admission to anyone serving in its quasi-military wing.) “She wants to be a sorceress, not an agent. And a little too cerebral for my tastes. I know you’re big on theories, but sometimes an agent needs to act quickly. She’d be too busy studying an avalanche to keep from being buried beneath it.”
“Still,” Gregor said, the single word apparently counting as his entire argument.
“True enough. She could be special. Maybe if they pair her with someone a little more physical. More action oriented.”
Gregor’s eyes were glinting. “You know, I saw some of the new applicants last week, and there was one … hmm. Castellan wanted to reject her immediately because she gave him such a hard time during the interview, but Petain and Zhukov both liked her, and I thought she was very … lively. Yes, I think I’ll have a word with Zhukov about them both.” He glanced at Rogers. “Would you like me to say something about him as well?”
Dawkins glanced at his partner, and though his eyes didn’t register any great degree of affection or respect, he shook his head. “He’s all right. Better than some. Besides, I understand he has a powerful patron on the Council.”
Gregor nodded grimly. “Just as I feared.”
Dawkins sighed, realizing his job was pretty much over without a chance to find their elusive quarry.
“Do you think you’ll be able to reverse everything’s that happened, sir?”
“What?” Gregor asked distracted. “Oh, yes. Well, no. Very good team on it. Should be able to undo the physical changes. We can change their memories, too, though I hate using mind control.” He shuddered. “But reverse it? Never. You can’t go back again, no matter how much you want to.”
* * *
Danae never saw Gregor during his investigation (she saw a very nice woman named Chira, and a very unpleasant man named Javert, who were assigned to debrief her), and didn’t hear his comments to Dawkins, but she would have understood the sentiment perfectly.
Flash forward a month. Danae sat on a bench, pretending to eat her lunch, alone and ostensibly ignored.
To all appearances, the school was back to normal. Well, pretty much normal. People remarked that Ms. Jameson seemed brighter and more spontaneous now – she laughed and actually had fun with her job, betraying an almost girlish enthusiasm. She was almost never seen without one of her trademark lollipops, but those were a minor vice compared to her new attitude.
And, admittedly, some people whispered about the new relationship between the principal and Ms. Richards, her secretary. But that was really no one’s business but theirs.
Jessica found she still had a little bit of a weight problem – a tendency to gain easily, and a weakness for sweets and junk food – but since most of the weight seemed to settle into her breasts and bottom, none of the males who eyed her lustily seemed put off by it.
But strangely enough, Jessica never encouraged any of them. In fact, she seemed to ignore all of the available boys. Friday and Saturday nights were spent in sleepovers with her best friend Stephanie. In fact, they spent almost all their free time together. Their parents, relieved at not having to worry about boys taking advantage of their daughters, were amazed and relieved they spent so many, long, quiet hours together.
Though Stephanie’s mother did wonder occasionally at the odd stains in Stephanie’s panties. They almost looked like…
But that was ridiculous. Stephanie wasn’t even going out with any boys these days.
And as another plus, she had developed a real appetite for salads, asking her mother for fresh cucumbers (the bigger the better) at least three times a week.
Amber showed an amazing new fluency in Spanish, which served her well. Perhaps in response to this, she also showed a fascination and near obsession with Hispanic culture, even going so far as to change her dress style and hobbies. She continued in gymnastics, but didn’t have the same enthusiasm or ability she’d once shown.
On the other hand, she could watch the other girls – especially those incredibly cute, pert little bottoms – for hours on end.
Tim showed up again, apparently none the worse for the many rumors that followed him. He still played football, but what really made him amazingly popular with the girls was his newfound sensitivity and open emotionality.
Though there were a few nasty rumors that he developed those traits to compensate for a certain under-endowment that would ordinarily have left him less popular with the females.
His sister, on the other hand, became much more aggressive in her social life, but not in a traditional style. She hung out and laughed with the boys, drinking, swearing, watching sports – and even other girls. She also came to excel in several sports herself, physically outclassing most of the other girls.
Perhaps it was jealousy then that she never wanted to share a locker room with them, and refused to be seen naked after meets.
Ms. Stetten returned to teach, but now favored high (and often revealing) fashions and lots of makeup. People openly speculated about her apparent implants, but even more distracting were the rumors which constantly swirled about her regarding her new, amazingly active and “varied” social life.
Charlotte, one of the students in her class, seemed particularly upset about these, at least since they often involved her mother.
And she would turn bright, embarrassed red if anyone used her new nickname, bestowed by her mother: “MT.” She refused to explain what it referred to, but would simply clasp her arms across her chest awkwardly and hurry away.
Perhaps the least successful reversion, at least at first impression, was Allison, the counselor. She was never seen again, and simply faxed her resignation into the school. The next week, however, her niece, “Allie,” transferred into the school. She was an unusually bright, cheerful 14 year old, who acted as if being a teenager and freshman in high school was the absolutely coolest and best thing that ever happened to her. She also seemed unusually knowledgeable about the students and cliques, and had ingratiated herself with the popular girls in very short order.
All in all, however, the Institute had done a pretty good job, at least as far as they could against powerful chaotic magic like that which had been unleashed. And no one consciously remembered what had happened.
But unconsciously…that seemed another matter. Officially, Danae’s position was unchanged, and her blame unrecognized. True, her teachers treated her even more coldly than they had before, recognizing her work as required, but never encouraging or interacting with her otherwise, even the few she had gotten along with before. And in one sense, her position had improved. Although still a social outcast, the other students – in particular, Stephanie and her cohorts – ignored her rather than persecuted her. She wasn’t sure if it was an unconscious fear or respect, but they clearly wanted nothing to do with her, even for the pleasure of teasing her.
Which left her more alone than ever – a sort of half-ghost haunting the school: ignored, hated or feared in turn.
She was sure she had ruined her family situation as well. True, Callista and her mother never openly reproached or punished her after the initial. They seemed determined to put it all behind them. But Danae knew they never could. She knew how disappointed Callista was about her succumbing to dark magic, and even more about her using it on their mother. She pretended otherwise, but Danae knew better.
Her mother’s attitude had definitely changed as well, and she couldn’t hide it like Callista did. There was a new wall between them, and the old warmness – the love, friendship, and trust (Danae only now realized how precious those had been) which she had been lucky enough to share with her was gone. Danae wasn’t sure how much of the change was her use of the forbidden magic, how much was the betrayal her mother felt at being manipulated so coldly, and how much was the trouble she had dealing with Danae’s “problem.” Perhaps what hurt the most was that Danae suspected it was mostly the last.
And then there was Kim.
Danae had approached her shyly but hopefully the first week after the debacle, planning simply to say hello and ask how she was. Kim had been talking happily with several of the other cheerleaders when she had seen Danae approaching.
The look she had given her had frozen Danae in her tracks. She still felt an almost physical kick in the stomach every time she remembered it.
Kim had no conscious memories of the fateful week. The mages had made sure of that. But even so, on seeing Danae, Kim’s face had locked into a frozen mask of hostility, her eyes cold and terrible.
She hated Danae. She didn’t know why, and she didn’t care. She hated her.
Danae recognized it without a word spoken between them. And, of course, she had no one to blame but herself. She was wrong to even attempt restarting the friendship. She turned away at once and never tried again.
Danae didn’t blame them for hating her. She was a demon bastard – a monster. She had finally seen that for herself, and she hated the knowledge but accepted it. Somehow, they had realized that before she had. She could never fit in, nor should she hope to. They should hate her.
Just as she hated herself.
And so, Danae sat alone on a bench, pretending to eat her lunch, shunned or forgotten. She watched students laugh and love, and knew she could never be a part of it. It was better for everyone this way. Alone.
Utterly alone.
END
Copyright 2005 by Nomdreserv
Pretends to be the boss around here.