Transfer Student By Nomdreserv (TF, TG, MC)

[TheoW]

More of a story where I was just playing around. As usual, power and role reversals are the general theme. (Various themes, including TG)

Transfer Student

By Nomdreserv

"Hey, Melanie, check these out," Courtney called to her friend.

They were examining some jewelry and knick-knacks displayed on a table, one of those temporary flea-market-at-the mall set-ups. This table belonged to an unexpectedly well-groomed, sharply-dressed man of indeterminate age who watched them carefully.

Melanie turned to see Courtney holding up a couple of oversized gold chain medallions.

"Cool," Melanie said appraisingly. "like, totally 70s. Let me see one."

Each girl draped one of the medallions around her neck. Sensing a sale, the man suddenly produced a table mirror, allowing them to check out their appearance.

"Check it out," Melanie laughed. "We’re twins."

The statement was meant as a joke. Melanie was tall and thin, with a trim, athletic figure, small breasts, and long blond hair. Courtney was several inches shorter, with a much rounder, softer and heavier figure, C cup breasts, and black hair. She sighed.

"I wish. I’d love to be tall and thin like you."

The man’s eyes flashed and he smiled. A few seconds later, as Courtney turned to view her reflection from a different angle, she inadvertently bumped Melanie. They both jumped as a strong tingle resulted.

"Sorry," she said, rubbing her elbow. "Must have hit the funny bone."

"S’OK ," Melanie replied, looking at herself more critically. Her face seemed a bit rounder and fuller than she was used to, and she suddenly noticed the way her shorts were biting into her waist. Her shirt and bra felt tighter, and when she glanced down, she saw for the first time ever a slight bulge of her tummy below. She immediately vowed to lay off the after school snacks.

Courtney, meanwhile, decided the medallion made her look better. Her face was sharper, with her round chin less obvious. What also struck her was that Melanie seemed to be just about her height in the mirror. She figured her friend was stooping, but a quick glance showed they were both standing up straight. Weird. She also noticed Melanie’s figure seemed a bit dumpier today, a little closer to her own. Her shorts were really tight, and her thighs looked much fuller and softer. Funny she hadn’t noticed it before. She unconsciously rubbed her foot against her bare ankle as she considered, not noticing that her jeans were seemingly a couple of inches shorter than before.

"You have a good eye," the man said smoothly. "These are finely crafted pieces, and I’ve added a special touch of my own when I finished them. I’d love to see you wear them. They’ll bring you luck, and just about anything else to ask for, if you ask right."

"Yeah, right. How much?" Melanie asked, rolling her eyes at the sales pitch.

"$20 apiece." The girls looked askance. "The pair for $30." He added quickly.

Melanie shook her head, though Courtney hesitated.

"You girls seem nice," he added. "Tell you what. $10 each and we call it square."

Courtney nodded immediately, and with a bit of coaxing got Melanie to go along. They walked off happily, not noticing the man simply drop their money, as though of no interest. He was paid in a different coin.

…………………………………………………………………..

Melanie walked into the kitchen, her mother looking up from the stove in greeting. She was in her early 40s, still attractive, but with a figure losing its battle with time, and washed-out blond hair that was a faint reminder of Melanie’s own.

"Dinner in about a half hour," she announced over a couple of heating pans, apparently in the beginning phases of one of her improvised and always popular stir-fry creations. "You want a snack?"

Melanie felt hungry, but pulled at the surprisingly tight waist of her shorts, and felt the slight roll of fat squeezed above it.

"Uh, no thanks. Not hungry."

"You should eat more, dear. You’re so thin."

She said this mechanically, but was surprised when she noticed it really wasn’t true anymore. While still not really fat, Melanie’s figure looked much more filled out, and her shorts clung to her like a second skin, the waist digging into her hips. She really needed a larger pair, but Mrs. Riggs didn’t want to say anything to make her feel fat after all these years of being after her for being too thin. Instead, she changed the subject.

"New necklace?"

"Yeah. Courtney and I picked ‘em out. Retro chic. Cool, huh?"

Her mother paused long enough to hold the necklace in examination. Meanwhile, Melanie inhaled the tantalizing aromas of spices and chopped garlic.

"Gosh, Mom," she said, feeling her stomach growl. "You always make such great stuff. I wish I could cook like you."

Suddenly, the arrayed ingredients took on a different look to her eye. She instinctively knew what her mother was planning and how to combine them. In fact, she thought there were a couple of changes she would have made in the relative quantities of onion and oil. She blinked in surprise. Although she loved her mom’s cooking, she’d never really taken an active interest in it.

Her mother, on the other hand, had released the medallion and gone back around the kitchen counter, where she now stood staring blankly.

"Oh, thank you, dear." She waggled her fingers nervously. "Now, um, what was I going to do?"

"You better get the rice cooking first," Melanie suggested. "Or it won’t be ready in time."

"Yes, of course," her mother said in relief, picking up the rice box. "Let’s see. Bring 3 cups of water to a boil." She looked around in confusion. "Now where did I put that measuring cup?"

"Here, Mom," Melanie offered, grabbing it without even thinking.

"Thanks. Now, which pan?" She was pretending it was rhetorical, but Melanie thought there was just a hint of panic in the eye as she tried to find her usual rhythm.

"Mom, you’ve already got the water heating," Melanie said, pointing to the saucepan.

"Really? I didn’t….how odd. Well, good. That’s taken care of." She held up the box again. "Add ½ cup rice and…"

Melanie couldn’t stand to hear her mother’s labored attempt to comprehend the instructions.

"Hey, Mom, why don’t you let me handle the rice? Look, it’s really easy. Even I can do it. You just concentrate on the cashew chicken."

"What? Oh yes, good idea." She stared in even greater confusion. "Is that what I was making?"

"I thought so. See, there’s the chicken, the nuts, the oil and garlic."

"Yes, there they are all right," she replied unenthusiastically. "Um, do you know where I put the recipe?"

"Mom!" Melanie was becoming increasingly exasperated. "You know you hate recipes. You always say it takes the creativity out of cooking."

"Um, yes, I guess I do,’ she laughed nervously. "You know, maybe just plain rice would be good. I’m not feeling very hungry."

Melanie pushed her towards the table.

"Well, I am!" she said, wanting to get dinner as soon as possible. "Why don’t you relax and read or something. Watch TV. I’ll handle dinner tonight."

Mrs. Reed visibly relaxed.

"Would you, Melanie? Thanks. I really appreciate it. I don’t know why, but I just can’t seem to get into it tonight." She watched her daughter start several pans going at once. "Wow, you’re amazing. I had know idea you were becoming such a chef."

Melanie paused, while keeping an eye on the browning chicken in one pan and the onions in another. She’d had no idea she knew how to do this stuff either. Apparently, she must have picked it up unconsciously while watching her mother over the years.

She wondered what other kinds of things she might know without realizing it.

Her cooking turned out to be as good as her technique –as good as anything her mother made, they’d all agreed. Her father and even her siblings had been sincerely complimentary, even to the point of her brother not commenting on her stomach pooching out above her shorts. As an additional switch, her mother volunteered to clean up after dinner, Melanie’s usual job. This freed Melanie to go upstairs to her room to finally change clothes. Her already too tight shorts were threatening to rip after the large dinner she’d just eaten, and she had to struggle to force them past her hips. She frowned at the size and softness of her thighs as she did so. She’d have to add some additional exercises to her resolution about less snacking. It wasn’t just the extra layer of fat that was now obvious, there was something different about their shape – almost like her legs were a different length, as absurd as that was. She couldn’t figure out how her body could have changed on her like this without noticing it before.

Pulling off her also tight crop top revealed more surprises – a definite tummy that jiggled a bit with her struggle, and a very tight bra that overflowed its cups. Was she retaining water or something? There was no way she could have missed all this when getting dressed. She unsnapped the constricting bra, taking a deep breath in release, then frowned again. Her breasts looked bigger, no doubt of that, but also softer and droopier. She had the sinking realization that it was extra fat that made them larger, not just some water weight.

Shocked and depressed, she forgot all about the dinner mystery. She pulled on a pair of sweats and vowed to skip breakfast in the morning. She also took off the medallion and left it on her dresser.

………………………………….

Meanwhile, Courtney had reached home and walked into the family room, he heart sinking when her older brother, Jason, looked up with a malicious smile. They were only a year apart, and had been close growing up, with the usual sibling rivalry and competition, even enjoying frequent and friendly wrestling matches, but he had taken to teasing her mercilessly since puberty. She had briefly matched him in height, thanks to her earlier growth spurt, but he had gotten so much bigger – not only from his own growth spurt, but by adding to his muscular frame with regular weight training in his room – that he loved to taunt her about how soft and weak she’d become in comparison, as though this was somehow a defining moment in their simmering family rivalry.

"Hey, Court-ney," he drew out her name, signaling a teasing session about to start. "What’s with the pants? Trying to pretend you’re still growing?"

She followed his gaze and looked down in surprise to see her bare ankles. No wonder her pants had seemed sort of tight – she must have grabbed an old pair by mistake. Still, it was very strange – they pulled at her ankles and knees from being too short, but instead of being too tight around her middle, the waist actually seemed a bit large, and they were also loose in the upper legs.

"Maybe I AM still growing," she shot back. "Bet you wish you were. Wouldn’t you hate it if I was taller? You’re only 5’10’’. It could happen."

He colored. "No way, doughball. The only way you’re growing is around. Besides, you’re a girl. Guys have it all over girls. Taller, stronger…"

"Dumber."

He stood and stretched theatrically. "OK, Sis, time for a refresher course in how to talk to your brother." He grabbed her arm and twisted it, only briefly pausing when she seemed to be closer to his own height than he was used to. It WOULD bother him if she got to be as tall as he. The thought fueled his physical teasing, and he twisted harder.

"Ow! Stop it!" she demanded. "I’m telling Mom."

"Not home yet," he drawled. "Now, let’s see, where did we leave off last time?" He pinned both arms behind her back and held them effortlessly. "Come on, don’t be such a girl," he taunted. "At least try to fight back."

Damn it, Courtney thought, it wasn’t fair. She hated being treated this way. She wished she had his muscles to see how he liked being pushed around.

Suddenly, Jason found Courtney’s struggles to be much more vigorous, almost breaking his grip. Ignoring the tingling in his arms and legs, he shifted positions to secure his arm lock, but found it harder and harder to do so. At last, with a grunt, Courtney twisted her arms free.

"Stop it, jerk!" she yelled, pushing him. They were both surprised when he actually staggered back a couple of steps. She saw a glimpse of panic in his eyes, but he recovered his bravado and decided to renew his attack.

"Ooh, tough little girl!" he mocked, grabbing her in a bear hug and squeezing, hoping to drive her breathless the way he usually did. He was once again surprised by a mild tingling in his limbs, like they were asleep. "Think you can take me?" He tried a simple trick and tripped her with his left foot while they wrestled, expecting to throw her to the floor. Instead, she wrapped her own arms around him in a surprisingly strong grip and pulled him with her.

They hit the floor with two "Oofs" but Courtney hardly felt the blow. For the first time in years, she was actually enjoying their wrestling, feeling a surprising vigor in her arms and legs that seemed to grow as they fought. They rolled around on the floor, to all appearances evenly matched, though she couldn’t imagine why he’d decided to take it easy on her. His arms squeezed or hit her with less force every minute.

At last, to both their amazement, she ended up on top of his back, holding both his arms pinned beneath her. Another twist, and he cried out in pain, giving her an unexpected, almost sexual rush. However, seeing the expression of total shock and growing fear on his face also startled her, and she reflexively let go.

"Did I just win? I won, didn’t I?" she crowed as they stood up and brushed themselves off.

"Ah, I just let you win ‘cuz I felt sorry for you," he mumbled, rubbing his arms gingerly. They burned strangely, like after a workout, but something he felt – or, more properly, didn’t feel – made his eyes go wide.

"Oh yeah? Wanna go another round?" she asked, eyes gleaming and adopting a ready stance. She felt positively supercharged.

"Nah. I don’t wanna make you cry," he said, trying to sound bored. "I’m gonna go do my homework."

She stood and watched as he walked quickly away, in obvious retreat. The next minute, she recovered enough to jump in the air with a triumphant, "Yes!"

Jason locked the door to his room and pulled off his sweatshirt, gasping when his upper body was revealed. The defined, muscular frame he had worked so hard to develop had all but disappeared, and he looked almost the same as he had 3 years ago before weight training. He flexed his arm, producing a still noticeable but dramatically smaller biceps that almost made him cry. He knew he had skipped a bunch of sessions recently, but this degree of atrophy seemed impossible. He looked like someone who had never worked out before. Pulling off his pants revealed the same devastation below. He still had decent muscle tone, but only a shadow of the bulk that had been there.

In trembling confirmation, he tried to lift his free weights for a couple of curls. His muscles screamed in protest, quivered, then quit, and he had to let the weights hang loosely in his weakened arms. Dejected and almost afraid at the changes, he switched to light weights and started to lift, desperate to make up for his loss. Man, he’d never skip a workout again – his neglect had left him barely as strong as his sister. He had a lot of ground to make up.

Courtney fairly bounded up the stairs, taking them two at a time, her body feeling incredibly light with each step, still wondering how she’d managed to beat her brother. She paused outside his room to yell, "Girls rule!" in through the door, then went into her own room, pausing at the mirror. "Looking good," she told her reflection.

Then she stopped, looking more closely. Even with her intentionally baggy shirt, she thought her shoulders looked wider, and her arm felt funny when she bent it. Closing her door, she returned and pulled off her shirt. Her jaw fell open in disbelief. Instead of the soft, pudgy body she expected, she saw a cut figure with a much flatter stomach and toned arms with noticeable muscle. Her breasts also looked different – the bra cups not as full, but the breasts themselves looking better, less soft and fat, and lifted as though the muscles beneath had enlarged to present them. Her nipples grew stiff at the sight of her body, and a tentative touch of her breasts confirmed they were noticeably firmer. The medallion within her cleavage winked at her as it glinted off the light.

"Shit!’ she exclaimed, trying to come to grips with her transformed body. Trembling, she pulled off her jeans, which had somehow become tighter on her legs again. She gasped. Her thighs bulged with muscle rather than fat, and her calves were rounded and toned, the muscles clearly defined. Even her ass looked smaller and firmer.

"It’s impossible," she whispered. "I almost look like…"

It was then she remembered the mystery of Melanie’s appearance, and the dramatic turnabout during her fight with Jason. Of course, it was still impossible – even the idea was absurd, but then – looking at her taller, muscular body - so was this. The gold chain caught her eye again. Instinctively, she touched it, and a flash of understanding seemed to flood her. If her theory was right…

Putting her clothes back on, she walked back to his room and knocked. She heard a grunt from within, and the thud as he set down his weights.

"What is it?" he asked, slightly out of breath.

"Me," she called. "Can I talk to you?"

"Just a minute," he answered. He opened the door. "Whatta you want?"

She saw how nervous or distracted he was, and also – now that she was looking – how much less developed his upper body seemed, even through his sweatshirt. His legs were also obviously thinner. Her heart raced as she realized that somehow the medallion had made her wish come true, and she had stolen his strength. The implications made her mind spin, and she just stood there silently for several seconds while Jason panted. He looked so distraught, she almost told him what she had discovered, but decided she’d better hold off until she could more clearly think the situation through. Besides, what sister could resist the situation entirely? She glanced at the weights.

"Working out?"

"Yeah, so?" His nervousness increased.

She smiled, teasing him. "Oh, nothing. I was wondering if I should try it. Maybe tone up a bit. What do you think?"

He snorted. "Don’t make me laugh. Go get some hand weights or something."

"But you have all these right here," she persisted, pushing past him and pointing. She stopped, and looked down in pretend surprise. "Hey, didn’t you take some of the weight off?"

"Yeah," he mumbled, eyes downcast. "I, um, decided to alternate light with heavy workouts."

"That sounds like a good idea," she mused. "Let me just try ‘em." Before he could say a word, she reached down and hoisted the barbell. "Say, this IS easy," she agreed. "Are you sure you won’t lose ground working out this light?"

He gulped, watching her effortless curls.

"No, I don’t think so,’ he squeaked, desperately hoping he was right.

She set the weight back down, then crossed to him, squeezing his upper arm. He actually winced, and she exulted at how much smaller and softer it felt. In fact, it seemed to soften beneath her grip, even as a faint tingling returned to her limbs.

"I don’t know," she smirked. "if your sister can beat you at wrestling, I think you’d better start working harder, not easier." She smiled sweetly and let go, the tingling also ceasing. "Better let you get back to it. You don’t want to miss any more workouts the way you’re going."

He watched her saunter confidently away, amazed. Was she bigger? She had to be. He’d only just realized how much. Apparently, she really had hit another growth spurt, and it coincided with her becoming much stronger. She must be working out on the side. He’d even had to repress a cry when she’d squeezed his arm. This only fired his own determination to get back into shape, and he walked back to his weights grimly.

And gasped when he tried to pick up the barbell. It seemed even heavier than before, and he could barely lift it halfway before his arms gave out again. What the hell was going on? He’d just seen Courtney lift it without trouble. The implications were chilling, and he sat on his bed dazed.

At dinner, Courtney was annoyingly perky while he sat miserably, and she continued half teasing him without actually saying anything too incriminating. Both parents remarked on how good Courtney looked tonight, and she laughingly agreed, saying her diet and new exercises had really paid off. Their mother turned to Jason with a concerned eye.

"Are you all right?" she asked. "You seem sort of down."

"Down for the count," Courtney agreed, winking at Jason.

"I’m all right," he mumbled, glaring back at her. He had worn a baggy, long-sleeved shirt to hide his shrunken arms. Amazingly, they had seemed even smaller after his workout than before.

Their mother sighed. She could sense the tension in the air, and knew something must have happened between them, apparently in Courtney’s favor. Well, Courtney needed a break, and at least Jason hadn’t been pushing her around physically tonight the way he liked to. Apparently, her warnings about fighting were finally paying off.

Before bed, Courtney examined her muscular body happily, running her fingers along hard, rounded biceps and bulging thighs. She toyed with the idea of showing up for gym tomorrow like this and amazing her classmates, but knew the change was too drastic. She was undoubtedly the strongest girl in the school, but had the bulk to go along with it. She’d have to reverse the transfer, or…

A glint caught her eye from the medallion, and she smiled, as though in understanding. If the medallion worked the way she thought…

Late that night, she crept into Jason’s room and watched him toss fitfully in uneasy sleep. Wishing to herself, she touched his arm and felt the tingling return. In fascination, but almost sadly, she watched her bulging muscles slowly deflate, while Jason’s form returned towards normal. She stopped partway through, since she liked the extra tone and shape her increased muscular mass provided, but after he could at least pass for normal. He would be confused again in the morning, probably either assuming today had been a nightmare, or that his abbreviated weight session had produced spectacular results in restoration.

He was still in for a surprise, however. She had wished their appearances were back to near normal, but decided to hold onto his strength. So even though he looked like his old self, he’d soon be surprised if he tried anything like his previous bullying. It also meant she’d stay super strong for her size, and that he’d be really weak despite rippling muscles – a double-edged proposition that was highly entertaining to her. And the endless array of possibilities for future mischief on a similar line were dazzling.

She couldn’t wait for morning.

……………………………………………………

to be continued (if anyone shows interest)

copyright 2000 by Nomdreserv

[TheoW]

Transfer Student

By Nomdreserv

Part 2

Courtney awoke the next morning feeling great, her body still supercharged with her brother’s strength. She had to choose her clothes carefully thanks to her extra height and defined muscles, but felt absolutely no desire to give them back when she checked out her new profile in the mirror. Even her old clothes looked good on this new body. She was already dressed and downstairs by the time Jason moped in, still looking tired and worried. Their mother noticed immediately.

"What’s wrong, Jason?" she asked.

"Nothin’," he mumbled, hoping no one would notice his inexplicably altered frame. He still felt weak, despite looking more like his normal self, and a quick test with his weights had been just as depressing as before. His body even felt heavy to move around. "Just tired."

"Let me see if you have a fever," his mother insisted, putting her hand on his forehead.

Courtney’s eyes went wide with an idea. She wondered if the amulet would work on others. For the few seconds her mother’s hand rested there, she concentrated.

"You feel fine," their mother rumbled in a lower voice, more tenor than alto. She seemed surprised and cleared her throat. "Do you have a headache or sore throat?"

"Nah, Mom, I’m fine," Jason replied, then froze. His voice was at least a full octave higher, and sounded more like a teenage girl’s rather than a young man’s. He also started clearing his throat.

"Are you sure?" his mother asked. "You sound funny."

Jason concentrated, and succeeded in sounding like a girl trying to sound like a boy.

"Maybe my throat is a little sore."

Courtney giggled. It would be by the time he spent the day trying to sound like himself. He glared at her and started to make his usual threatening comments, then checked himself as he remembered the scene with his weights.

Mom patted his arm. "You don’t feel warm." Courtney couldn’t resist the chance for more mischief and concentrated again. "You’ll feel better after breakfast." She went back to the counter, scratching her ass unconcernedly, and not caring as her robe flopped open.

Jason, meanwhile, walked to the table, his hips wiggling and a swish to his hands. He sat down and demurely crossed his legs in a feminine style. When Courtney giggled again, he glared icily, then found himself inexplicably wondering what shade of lipstick she was wearing. He fluffed his sleep-disordered hair self-consciously and began to plan what to wear for the day, visions of color coordination never imagined suddenly becoming a prime concern.

Courtney laughed silently, imagining the picture his newfound mannerisms and voice would present at school. She also felt a strange surge, as though the medallion had charged her body, somehow understanding that its power increased with use and practice, and that the artifact itself benefited from the changes. She patted it affectionately. They made a good team. It was unbelievable she’d been able to buy it from that man, let alone for so little. Poor guy hadn’t known what he had.

Or so she reasoned.

At school, she was hit with a boring jolt back to normality. She was afraid to play with the medallion in case anyone noticed the changes, and the temptation was driving her crazy. She tried to resist visions of revenge and naughty fantasies that filled her mind. Unfortunately, filled it to the point of ignoring the class around her. A hand on her shoulder snapped her attention back rudely.

"Miss Drake," Mr. Baker, the intimidating, no nonsense math teacher interrupted. "You seem deep in thought. So much so that you ignored my questions. No doubt it’s because you’ve already solved the equation I’m demonstrating." He squeezed her shoulder almost painfully. "Perhaps you’d enlighten the rest of the class with your wisdom."

She blinked at the bewildering numbers and signs on the board, as the smirking faces of her classmates added to her embarrassment. Math was one of her worst subjects even when she did pay attention, and having daydreamed through the class she was lost. God, she wished she understood this stuff.

And then, she did. Suddenly, the equation on the board didn’t seem hard at all – positively high school, in fact. She also realized the elegance and beauty to mathematics, in stark contrast to her usual antipathy. How wonderful.

"Sure, Mr. Baker. The answer is x cosign theta. You have to factor the tangent out to solve it."

Now it was his turn to blink. He looked at the board with a slowly growing panic.

"Yes, of course. I think…um, you must be right. Yes." He walked numbly up to stare at the board, realizing the numbers and signs were now a meaningless babble to him. His eyes darted frantically back and forth over the equations for a full minute before the whispers behind his back made him realize how strange he appeared.

"OK, class. Let’s use the rest of the period to study another problem. Umm, let’s discuss…" He flipped through his book. Try as he might, he couldn’t seem to grasp any of the mathematical concepts that were usually second nature to him. "Let’s just work on your homework for the rest of the period. I’m feeling … benevolent."

Courtney looked at her book. As she realized how simple all the problems were, the realization of what had happened hit home. She had Baker’s math knowledge. She felt a guilty surge of remorse and an immediate urge to rectify the accident, then stopped. No point in rushing things. She flew through the assigned problems in minutes, realizing she’d never have trouble in math class again. Maybe she could hold onto the knowledge until after high school.

She also wondered just how far she could take this type of transfer. When class ended, she stopped at Mr. Baker’s desk. Pretending to drop her pencil, she bumped against him while thinking "ALL math knowledge" to herself. She then smiled sweetly.

"Mr. Baker? Could you give me a $20 for these two singles? I, uh, want to consolidate the stuff in my purse."

He looked decidedly nervous.

"What? A … 20 for two …umm…"

"Sure," she said brightly. "Like, it’s the same amount, right?"

His eyes darted back and forth in panic, then looked at her in pretended confidence.

"Yes, of course. Happy to help."

He still looked uncertain as he handed the bill over.

"Oh, look – another two dollars. Would you mind?"

He reluctantly handed over another $20, not wanting to admit that he didn’t have the slightest idea what the bills represented. Courtney smiled in thanks and walked away. This was too easy.

She met Melanie after class, immediately looking to see if she also wore her medallion. She didn’t. She felt a pang of guilt seeing her friend’s ill-fitting clothes, her pants both too tight and too long, but again couldn’t quite steel herself to part with her recent improvements. In fact, she thought another inch of height and a few pounds less would really…

She shook her head. Melanie was her friend. She didn’t want to steal anything more from her. Emphasis on her, since the transfers themselves were frankly a rush. In fact, as they walked and talked through the halls, she saw one of the school’s cheerleaders approaching with her retinue.

"Hey," the girl snarled as Courtney bumped her. "Watch where you’re going, Clueless." She rolled her eyes contemptuously to her friends. "Hoser patrol." She also unconsciously tugged at her skirt, which now seemed rather too tight. She would have been even more shocked to see the small roll of fat which protruded above the too-tight waistband that cut into her soft middle.

Courtney, meanwhile, pulled up her own much looser skirt in satisfaction. Melanie noticed, both the skirt and the long, thin and surprisingly muscular legs visible beneath.

"Hey," she said. "You’ve lost weight. Looks really good. And whoa - look at those legs, girl.! You’ve been working out."

Courtney smiled. "I’ve, um, been using some of my brother’s stuff."

"I better try something like that. And I’ve gotta cut lunches for a while. Can you believe how fat I’ve gotten? I could hardly button these jeans today." She didn’t mention the added mystery of their dragging the floor over her shoes.

Courtney’s guilt returned, then she brightened. There was no reason for Melanie to suffer. A couple of more bumps, and a couple of more girls were tugging at too tight skirts or too long pants, while Melanie was suddenly able to breathe freely in hers again. In a few minutes, she looked close to normal again, but for some reason, Courtney left Melanie just a bit shorter and heavier than she had been to start. Something about it excited her.

"Aren’t you just dreading gym?" Melanie asked. She knew she had been, afraid to appear with her sudden weight problem, but as she walked, she realized her jeans weren’t as tight as before. She brightened – maybe it had just been water weight. "I think Ms. Arden gets off on putting all the good players on one team and watching ‘em humiliate the rest of us."

"Maybe today will be different," Courtney smiled.

……………………………………………………………………………………..

It wasn’t, at least not to start. It was basketball today, and as usual, the JV players were all on one team ("So as not to mess up their play.") and the more athletically challenged on the other. Courtney had thought her enhanced physique and strength would change the intentionally lopsided outcome, and they had helped, but not enough to compensate for her lack of experience and coordination. She could reach the backboard from mid court, but still missed the basket more often than not. However, both her powerful passes and noticeably muscular arms did draw some attention.

"Another brick," Crystal snorted as Courtney missed, her shot sailing over the backboard. Crystal was the JV team captain, and loved to lord her ability over the less gifted players. She continued to razz Courtney as they ran back upcourt. "You are clueless, you know that, Summers? You think you’ll impress anyone just ‘cuz you’re working out? You’re still a klutz. See?" She brought the point home by surreptitiously tripping Courtney.

Courtney went sprawling, but managed a measure of revenge by bringing Crystal down with her. Crystal shrieked in anger and threw herself at Courtney as they righted themselves, sending both down again in a wrestling match, and immediately drawing a whistle from Ms. Arden.

"Break it up, you two!" she ordered. "Crystal, are you OK?"

Crystal glared at Courtney. "Sure, Ms. Arden. This dorkus just tripped over her own feet."

Ms. Arden was in Courtney’s face.

"Listen, Summers, watch yourself. You might have hurt our star forward. I should…"

"No worry, Coach," Crystal put in, smiling maliciously. "Let the doofus stumble around some more while I show her how it’s done."

Ms. Arden chuckled, imagining how Crystal planned to show Courtney up.

"All right. Take it easy on her." She winked sarcastically.

They both smiled, but were a bit disconcerted to see Courtney smiling back at them. Arden whistled for the ball and tossed it to Crystal.

Who promptly dropped it.

Crystal looked shocked as she fumbled for the ball, finally picking it up again. It felt strange, almost foreign in her hands, and she handled it clumsily. She concentrated and tried to dribble.

And bounced the ball off her foot.

She ran to get it awkwardly. Her legs felt uncoordinated, and her arms flailed, the very antithesis of grace. Arden watched her impatiently.

"Crystal, quit fooling around! Put the ball in play!"

Crystal retrieved the ball, but was ashamed to try to dribble it back. In fact, the way she was feeling, she just wanted to get rid of it as fast as possible. She drew back her arm and tried a quick pass to a teammate. Her arm flopped awkwardly, sending the ball short and off course. Courtney’s team recovered, and Courtney herself took it in for a smooth layup.

It went downhill from there. Courtney dominated the game, taking particular delight in tormenting Crystal – stealing the ball when she got it (which became less and less often as she continued to struggle to even hold the ball properly, let alone keep it in play), shooting over her ineffective, even comical guarding, and literally dribbling circles around her.

Worse, Crystal’s clumsiness seemed to infect the rest of the team whenever they bumped against one of their opponents. The scrub girls began playing better and better, quickly surpassing their former tormentors. Only the other team’s huge initial lead kept the game even close by the end.

Arden whistled the game over 5 minutes early, just before Courtney’s team was about to take the lead. She fumed at the now miserable and thoroughly embarrassed JV squad as they stumbled off the court, promising an extra hour of practice every night that week. She also stopped Courtney.

"You looked pretty good out there today, Summers. Always thought you had it in you. You’ve been holding back on us. Interested in trying out for the team? We may be needing a new forward." Here she glared balefully after the humbled Crystal as she skulked towards the showers.

"I’ll think about it, Ms. Arden," Courtney answered, a bit put off at the coach’s sudden and obviously selfish friendliness. "But forward? I mean, Crystal’s awfully good."

Make that just awful, she thought to herself. She’d definitely have to come to the next JV game to watch the girls struggle. She could just imagine the graceless girls bumbling comically around the court, almost as though they had no athletic skills or training at all.

Which, of course, at the moment, they didn’t.

She also imagined herself stepping in to save the team, and the extra attention and prestige she could have as an athletic star. She could get used to that, and after all, Crystal had already had a few years as a star during junior high and her freshman year. It was only fair to give someone else a turn. In fact, maybe it was time everybody in school got a chance to switch roles for a while. Drunk with the thought, she felt almost no guilt about her theft, and ambled happily towards the locker room.

On the way, she met Petra, the school’s star gymnast, on her way to practice. Courtney had always felt a little jealous of her lithe, toned body and incredible grace. Well, now there was no reason not to try them out herself.

"Hey, Petra," she called. "Wait a sec." She brushed the other girl’s back, producing a tingle. "You had something stuck on you."

"Oh, thanks, um…Caitlin?"

Courtney didn’t bother correcting her. She had what she wanted.

Petra walked on to practice but felt funny, as though her sense of balance was different somehow. She didn’t notice the way her stomach pooched out slightly now against the tight leotard, or how much softer her thighs looked, jiggling a bit as she walked.

She did notice, however, how unsteady she felt as she climbed onto the balance beam, and a minute later, treated the rest of the girls to an embarrassing splat as she fell gracelessly onto the mat. Needless to say, it was the worst practice of her life.

Courtney, meanwhile, performed an effortless cartwheel into the locker room, finishing with an in air somersault over the bench, and landing perfectly in an arms spread finish. What a rush! Her body sense was incredibly heightened, and every fiber felt energized and tuned. Her brother had given her extra bulk and strength, but Petra gave her muscle tone and balance everywhere – from lithe, smoothly chiseled legs through a washboard stomach. For the first time ever, she felt no qualms about undressing in front of the other girls.

Or did she? As she pulled her underwear off, she noticed her breasts. They had been reduced thanks to her weight loss, and though they were firmer as a result, they looked too small against her slightly expanded chest and wider shoulders. On the way to the showers, she "accidentally" brushed against Mary, whose D cup breasts were the objects of uncounted boys’ lascivious stares and not a few girls’ envy.

At least they used to be. As Mary put her bra on, she was surprised when she barely had to pull to close the snaps together. The cups wrinkled a bit as they settled around her breasts – in fact, they barely seemed to fill the bra instead of stretching it the way they normally did. She checked to make sure it was hers. Weird. It bothered her as she finished dressing. Could it have expanded from the shower steam? She also frowned at her reflection as she walked out. Her profile seemed decidedly understated – not at all the effect she was used to. Her shirt must be too big.

I mean, the alternative was just silly.

Courtney, meanwhile, bounced happily into the shower, marveling at her now bountiful breasts, which her supercharged muscles held up proudly. She brimmed with confidence.

Even Crystal seemed taken aback. Instead of the soft, pudgy girl she was used to and had been waiting to ambush, a fit, almost amazonian figure strode into the shower. She even seemed taller. And talk about growth spurts! Had Courtney gotten implants? That had to be it. At last, a weapon.

"Hey, Summers, how much did those set you back?"

"Huh?" Courtney peered out from underneath the shower spray.

"I can hardly see the scars," Crystal persisted, drawing a snicker from another girl. "Nice job. Who’s the surgeon?"

Courtney glared back. "All me, Patterson. Some of us just take longer, but the results end up better as you can see."

This was a reference to Crystal’s early puberty and growth spurt. She’d had sizable breasts before most of the girls in their class, and had gotten quite a jump athletically thanks to her huge jump in middle school days. Courtney remembered how she had always lorded it over her less well endowed or skillful classmates. An idea came to her. If she got the chance…

Crystal provided it herself. Still thinking the old way, she came over and shoved Courtney, hoping to intimidate her physically if not on the court. The blow had much less effect than she’d expected, surprising her yet again. She was used to being one of the strongest girls in school.

Courtney shoved back and sent Crystal sprawling, surprised by her own strength. Crystal yelled and launched herself back up, briefly initiating a lively tangle of slippery bodies amidst spraying water that could have made millions as a direct to video release.

Crystal quickly realized she was getting much the worse of the exchange and pulled away, frustrated and a bit frightened. The next few moments did nothing to alleviate the feelings. She found Courtney smiling down at her, smug and amused. Down? Weren’t they the same height? The day just kept getting stranger and stranger.

"Listen, Summers," she warned, attempting to bluster her way out, but stopped after the first words. Her voice sounded funny – higher and thinner. She cleared her throat and continued. "You’d better stay out of my way, or… or else." She finished lamely, suddenly feeling ill at ease under the other girl’s stare. Unconsciously, she moved her hands to cover her small breasts (Small? Really small - too small, her fingers told her, but she was too preoccupied to look) and bare pelvis.

Courtney laughed. "Ooh, big threat from such a little girl."

"Little? I’m not little! I’m taller… as tall … um, almost as tall as you are." Crystal insisted hotly.

"Whatever. See you around." Courtney waved dismissingly and went to dry off.

Crystal followed a minute later, still feeling odd. She immediately wrapped a towel tightly around herself, painfully self conscious for some reason. Her discomfort only grew as she walked to her locker. The other girls ALL seemed taller. And…older? She couldn’t understand why she got that impression, but might have if she’d noticed the sparse pubic hair revealed when she removed the towel – a thin, fine line on either side of her vagina that marked her as a much younger girl. She did notice how big her clothes felt, and how her bra seemed almost empty, leaving her even more confused and not the least reassured. It was all too much, and she suddenly felt like crying, like a little girl picked on at school. A familiar feeling, except SHE was the one who was supposed to do the tormenting. She hurried from the locker room, tugging her slipping skirt back up and almost losing her shoes.

Courtney watched her leave and smirked. She wondered how Crystal would hold up in the vicious high school social scene as an insecure 12 year old. Oh well, it would be fun to find out.

At lunch, Melanie immediately sought Courtney out, ecstatic at how the scrub team had dominated the JV squad. She also commented again at how good Courtney looked.

"And did you try a new makeup? Your face looks…I don’t know, like more sophisticated. You could probably pass as a college student at the Orb." [a favorite hang out for teens and young adults]

"I guess you could say it was new," Courtney mused. "Crystal helped me."

"Crystal? That bitch?" Melanie looked around. Crystal sat with her usual group but looked miserable – somehow small and out of place. "Huh, maybe she’s mellowing."

"Yeah. Maybe she’ll grow up humbler this time."

"Huh?"

"Never mind." Courtney suddenly had a disturbing thought. She looked at Melanie almost suspiciously. "Hey, Melanie, where’s your medallion? Can I check something on it?"

"Sorry. I left it at home. I think maybe I saw my Mom looking at it. Can you believe that?"

Courtney wasn’t sure what to believe. She wondered if Melanie’s mother was having as interesting a day as she was. Another sight distracted her.

"Geez, will you look at that? Brad and Amy are going at it again."

Melanie turned to see the mentioned students in another of their infamous clinches. Brad was the star quarterback of the football team, and Amy the captain of the cheerleading squad. Needless to say, each was hated heartily by their own sex, and lusted after by the other.

Courtney had once tried to talk to Brad, only to find that 1) he didn’t bother to hide his lack of interest in girls below his standard, and 2) he couldn’t remember her name 30 seconds after he’d heard it. She’d been incredibly hurt and embarrassed (hey, it’s high school), and had imagined several mildly involved scenes of retribution. Suddenly, she realized she had a means at hand. If her medallion worked that way…

A tingle at her chest told her it did. She smiled and sipped her soda, waiting to see what happened.

Brad and Amy had been heating up nicely as they kissed, and each suddenly felt a tingle move through their bodies. To Brad’s surprise, his building erection suddenly, thoroughly, and quite unexpectedly subsided. At the same time, Amy made a small gasp and shifted her hips slightly.

……………………………………………………………………………..

End part 2

Copyright 2000 by Nomdreserv

What’s in store for Brad and Amy? Most of you can probably guess. If you’re interested, drop me a line. Fair warning though, I only had one or two more actual scenes planned, not enough for a real story. (I know, if I couldn’t finish, I shouldn’t have started. Sorry.) If you have any ideas for how Courtney and Melanie should "share" their gifts, let me know and maybe I can continue.

[TheoW]

Transfer Student 3

By Nomdreserv

Brad blinked as a strange feeling moved through his body. The powerful sexual attraction he’d been experiencing seemed to subside, though he still enjoyed holding Amy close. Even so, there was something disquieting about the way she’d begun moving against him – a vaguely familiar pelvic grind.

Amy felt her own lust rising. It was more than just a feeling - her clit seemed unusually stiff and sensitive, and even seemed to be protruding beyond her labia, allowing her new and pleasurable sensations as she rubbed against Brad. She was loathe to break off contact, even though he seemed taken aback, and she held him as tightly as she could.

Which proved to be very tight indeed. Brad actually had to use some conscious force to disengage her surprisingly strong embrace.

“Later, Babe,” he announced. “I need to get to class.” He frowned. His usual powerful baritone seemed a bit weaker and higher.

“See you at practice, Stud,” she growled, her voice low and seductively husky. She grabbed at his tight buns lasciviously.

Hmm. Well maybe not quite so tight as she remembered. His ass felt surprisingly soft and full beneath her fingers. She would have guessed he must have put on some weight except his clothes actually looked a bit large on him as he walked away. Except for the seat of his pants – that did seem a bit tight. Made him walk with a bit of a wiggle too. She frowned. He’d have to watch that. A walk like that would quickly get any guy not on the football team in trouble, and might even make a star like Brad a target.

Amy stretched, her clothes binding her a bit, no doubt rearranged by her clinch with Brad. It only added to a general feeling of frustration. She didn’t usually heat up so quickly, and felt a real need to get off, but was obviously not going to get an opportunity here. She still felt a definite sexual excitement, and to her surprise, her eyes wandered over to a couple of her cheerleader friends. Stephanie was looking awfully hot today. Her skirt showed just a bit more thigh than modesty should allow, and really showed off the line of her legs. She couldn’t wait to see her in her short, little uniform at practice.

Putting her odd thought down to fashion awareness, she wiggled her shoulders, her shirt still feeling a bit too tight across the shoulders. As she walked away, she also noticed her shoes were pinching her. Neither annoyance kept her from a general feeling of vigor that almost made her swagger as she walked.

You might almost say she was feeling a bit cocky.

At her table, Crystal was sitting quietly, feeling strangely intimidated by her friends. Everything – her emotions, voice, the position of the table and the feel of the chair, the way her friends looked – seemed just slightly off. That crack Courtney had made about “little girl” seemed to really be wreaking havoc with her imagination. It didn’t help her confidence when Janine turned her attention on her.

“So, what’s the deal, Crystal? Everyone says you flailed big time during gym today.”

“I…I don’t know,” she admitted softly. “Everything seems weird today.”

Her friends immediately sensed weakness – heck, she even seemed to be slouching down in her chair – making it pretty much open season.

“Yeah,” Brittany sneered. “You seem really FLAT today.”

The others saw her stare at Crystal’s rather unimpressive chest and giggled.

Crystal blushed and hunched her shoulders awkwardly.

“Your dad got a cold or something?” Nina asked.

Crystal looked puzzled. “Huh? No, why?”

“I figured somebody must have used up all the Kleenex.”

The girls snorted.

“Stop it,” Crystal whined.

“Make me,” Nina challenged, deciding to test the old order.

Crystal seemed to shrink even further. Her eyes fell.

“Nuh uh,” she mumbled.

A quantum shift. Crystal had suddenly dropped to the bottom rung of the clique’s social ladder, and everyone knew it. With dominance realigned, they seemed to lose interest. Crystal felt it and tried to play for acceptance.

“Hey, guys. I saw the Disney Channel’s gonna have the Backlot Boys special this Saturday. Anyone wanna come over and watch it?”

An icy coolness.

“Um, Crystal? Hello? Some of us actually like to go out on Saturdays, remember?”

Nina smiled teasingly. “Hey, my little sister really likes them. Maybe she can hang with you.”

They all laughed again. Crystal spent the rest of the lunch in silence, aware that even her membership privileges in the circle might be at risk with further embarrassment.

Courtney had watched it all with a devilish pleasure. The medallion seemed to glow with an appreciative warmth as well. She looked around the room. A starter on the boy’s basketball team suddenly became a few inches shorter, two girls exchanged bra cup sizes, a middle-aged teacher suddenly found herself with an embarrassing infatuation for a pimply-faced sophomore boy. Courtney’s head was spinning with a rush of pleasure.

“Earth to Courtney. Come in.”

Courtney blinked. “Sorry, Melanie. My mind was wandering.”

“So I guessed. Might explain why you're drinking Dr. Pepper. I thought you hated that stuff? You're always ragging on your brother for liking it.”

Courtney noticed the can in her hand for the first time. She had chosen it without thinking and been happily drinking it through lunch.

“Huh.” She took another sip. It tasted fine. Why had she ever made a big deal about it?

Melanie, in contrast, made a face as she ate her usual hamburger and fries. Blah. Bland grease. What this cafeteria needed was some food with spice and flair. Where were the interesting condiments? An authentic curry, poblanos, wassabi - maybe some rice and vegetable dishes using a fusion of Asian and Middle Eastern cuisine. She'd have to make some suggestions.

………………………………………………………………..

Melanie’s mother, Diana, in contrast, was chowing down happily on a double cheeseburger and large fries in her office, and couldn’t understand why she usually ignored the Monsterburger next door. This stuff tasted great – she’d be happy eating it every day. Her large Coke was almost empty, unlike the black coffee still untouched from this morning, and she crammed another handful of fries into her mouth before taking an almost simultaneous bite of the burger. The large glob of errant ketchup that resulted dropped onto her suit.

“Damn!” That wouldn’t look good at the afternoon meeting. She ran to the washroom to try to get it out, but not before wolfing down the rest of her sandwich.

She was dabbing at the stain when Vicky came in. Vicky was only 23, young, slim and gorgeous, and not above reminding others of it. When she saw Diana, her eyes glittered wickedly. She took up a position next to her in the mirror, slightly touching.

“A little accident, Diana?” she asked cattily. “I saw you gobbling those fries earlier. You’d better learn to be more careful.” She glanced sideways at the older woman’s plumper, 40-something body. “In more ways than one. Even I can’t eat food like that and not gain weight.”

Diana glared. She wished Vicky would gain some weight right now.

Vicky checked her makeup and frowned. Her face looked a bit puffy and less well defined, and there was the slightest hint of some extra flesh beneath her chin. But that was absurd – must be the lighting. She absent-mindedly tugged at her skirt’s tight waistband as she leaned closer, tilting her head back to erase the second chin. Unfortunately, the “illusion” returned as soon as her head came back to normal position. Even worse, she noticed Diana glancing at her shirt, and when she looked herself, was shocked to see some puckering around the buttons. Vicky sucked in her stomach – STOMACH?! - and they flattened again.

Diana smiled while Vicky blushed. Why hadn’t she noticed how small this blouse was this morning? Or her skirt for that matter. Its waist was cutting into her like it was two sizes too small. It had to be a problem with the clothes – the alternative was unthinkable. But another glance at her face and figure told her it wasn’t. Damn that pint of Hagen-Daas! Even so, how could it have happened so quickly?

Diana meanwhile noticed that she seemed to have lost a few pounds – fries or no fries. Her resulting smirk at Vicky’s discomfort infuriated the younger woman. She noticed the unusual necklace Diana was wearing. Diana saw her gaze and explained.

“My daughter bought it. Somehow, when I saw it, I just felt like wearing it.”

“That’s a bit trashy, isn’t it?” Vicky asked, going back on the offensive. “I mean, it looks so high school. If you’re trying to dress younger, it doesn’t really work for you. Even I might have trouble carrying it off. And when a woman gets to be your age…well, never mind.”

Diana fumed. Her age! She’d like to see Vicky at her age or even older. That would change her attitude.

Vicky turned to leave, determined to have the last word, and therefore missed the changes as her cheeks sagged slightly, her skin lost its luster, and fine lines crept into the corners around her eyes and mouth, a few coalescing into early wrinkles. Her hair lost its shine and bounce, and a few grey highlights began to appear. The extra weight she’d noticed seemed to drag her breasts downward, their droop further ruining the effect of her too tight blouse and putting extra strain on the middle buttons.

Vicky noticed several puzzled looks as she returned to her cubicle, especially from the usually wolfish men who seemed somehow disappointed. She grunted as she sat down. Her skirt felt ready to split and had ridden up farther than usual. She turned, expecting to catch the guy across the way drooling at the leg show. Instead, his eyes barely glanced her way, then turned fixedly ahead, apparently more interested in his spreadsheet than the spread of her thighs. In fact, this wasn’t entirely true, but the nature of his thoughts (about how much heavier her legs had gotten, and how her usually sexy, sheer pantyhose seemed to be highlighting some dimples and veins he’d never noticed) would have been even more alarming.

She made to cross her legs, but had to give it up. There just wasn’t enough room in her skirt to do it without exposing herself or tearing it.

And there was just the slightest twinge in her hip that gave her pause…

Diana meanwhile had pretty well removed the stain and was admiring her own reflection. Let Vicky make whatever comments she wanted – if double cheeseburgers could do this, she’d have to try a triple. Her face seemed bright and alert, her skin smooth and shiny. That new wrinkle cream she had tried must be working wonders. Her clothes felt loose, and she was sure she’d lost some weight without realizing it, but it wasn’t just weight – her body seemed more toned than before. Hell, even her breasts seemed perkier.

The only part of her reflection to draw a frown was her too somber attire. Her clothes made her look older. Maybe she could borrow some of Melanie’s things.

And with that odd thought, she went back to work.

…………………………………………….

Courtney stopped to admire her own reflection in the school restroom mirror. Her new body looked great. On the way there, she’d “borrowed” another girl’s lips, and now sported a pouty, sexy mouth that went beautifully with her new, cute-as-a-button nose. She hoped her changes weren’t making things too obvious, but paused when she tried to recall a mental image to compare – it was hard to remember exactly what she looked like before starting all this. Oh well, it wasn’t like bigger breasts, a new nose or lips would keep anyone from recognizing her. And when Patty and her gorgeous, full-bodied red hair walked in, Courtney smiled again.

A minute later, Patty was wondering why her hair seemed so drab and lifeless that day, while Courtney was walking the hall with gorgeous, full-bodied hair sporting just a touch of red highlights that really set it off.

In chemistry class, Frederick Keeger froze as his hand shot up (as it always did) to answer the teacher’s question. Apparently, that tap on his shoulder by the girl behind him had distracted him more than he thought, since the answer seemed to evaporate in his mind.

“Yes, Mr. Keeger?” the teacher asked. “Would you care to explain what valence is?”

“Umm…” He did, but for some reason, the only definition that came to mind was of a decorative drapery.

The class snickering was made even worse when Courtney, usually one of the least motivated students in class, raised her hand behind him and trumped him with the correct answer. The rest of class was a blur, as Frederick tried desperately to recognize the concepts and formulae in his textbook – as bizarre as it seemed, it was as though he’d never read it before. He blamed the joint he had tried last night at his friend’s house.

Megan Anderson, editor of the school magazine, was similarly embarrassed in English class when the teacher had to explain to her that pentameter was not a five-sided geometric figure.

And Roberto Orestes, currently in position to be valedictorian, found his homework frustratingly difficult that night.

…………………………………………………………………….

Brad and Amy met after school on the field sidelines. Amy was looking unusually buff in her cheerleader costume. In fact, Brad noticed a slight bulge to her upper arms that showed she must be weight training or something. She grabbed him for a kiss before they started practice.

“Looking hot, Tiger,” she purred, giving his biceps an appreciative squeeze. Oddly, he usually flexed and tightened them to impress her when she did that, but today they seemed to soften slightly beneath her grip.

As he ran onto the field, she also thought he must have been wearing the wrong uniform. Both it and his pads seemed a little big for him. Right number though. Funny.

Her attention was diverted by Stephanie’s appearance. As before, she was somehow struck by the girl’s appearance, especially now with those gorgeous legs exposed by the cute, short skirt. She actually found herself watching to get a look at Stephanie’s panties as she stretched.

And finally seeing them made her stiff, not so little clit stand out even more. The practice, with its kicks and jumps, became a near sexual experience.

She also found their routines surprisingly easy to handle today. Her jumps were higher than ever, if a bit less graceful, and she seemed to dominate the other girls physically, feeling an actual need to show she was stronger and more athletic. The only distractions were the tightness of her shoes and shirt. She wasn’t sure why her shirt should be tight – her bra certainly wasn’t, at least not where it should. This bothered her subconsciously since her breasts seemed less bouncy than usual. She surreptitiously compared herself to the other girls. At first, she was worried about being smaller, but she soon forgot about that in the joy of watching all those other breasts jiggling. Why hadn’t she ever paid attention to that part of practice before? Her coordination suffered even more as she became more and more distracted.

Brad, not surprisingly, had the worst scrimmage of his life. His throws had no zip, and he consistently underthrew his receivers. It was just as bad when he tried to run – he seemed a step slower and was completely unable to shake tackles. He even lost his shoe a couple of times when he tried quick cuts, and couldn’t seem to tighten it enough to stay on properly. It was after one of these that the coach pulled him. The man glowered as Brad jogged to the sideline, hips wiggling.

“What the hell’s going on?” Coach demanded. He proceeded to chew Brad out in no uncertain terms, ascribing his performance deficiencies to everything from lack of commitment, not enough time in the weight room, improper diet, and heavy metal music. He finished off with the final shot, “And you’re running like a fucking girl!”

He was totally unprepared when Brad responded by bursting into tears. Shocked, he looked around in horror to see who might be noticing the star quarterback’s unprecedented display. This sort of thing might never be forgotten in the cloistered existence of high school, especially by the team he was supposed to lead. Now actually concerned about the teen’s mental status or that something really serious was going on, the couch responded the only way he knew how – he patted Brad reassuringly and sent him to the shower early.

Brad was glad to get away, feeling battered, bruised and embarrassed. In the locker room, he pulled off his uniform – it seemed to have stretched from his workout – and examined himself. Coach was right, he’d better hit the weight room more religiously. His arms definitely looked thinner and less muscular. Somehow, the smaller size also fooled his eye since there even seemed to be less hair on them.

He rubbed at his aching chest. He must have taken a couple of really good shots there, because it seemed swollen. Well, more specifically, two areas seemed puffed up. Brad refused to admit what the swellings made his chest look like, but he was glad he was in the locker room alone. Even worse, the nipples seemed to be inspired by the change and stood out prominently. He was surprised at the jolt he felt in his groin when he tried to push them flat again.

He walked towards the shower but stopped again when he caught a glimpse of his moving reflection. His hips looked weird, making his legs and gait look different, and making his ass…

He reached around. His ass felt huge, smooth and round - he must have bruised it too, though it didn’t look discolored. In fact, it looked…it looked…

Hell, his mind was playing tricks on him. That was just plain stupid. He unconsciously flipped his hair, then resolutely turned his back and minced to the shower, his unseen reflection showing a nice, round butt wiggling behind him.

In unconscious relief, he soaped up his genitals in the shower, but the relief was short lived. He looked down, aghast. Did his cock look smaller? It felt different (and like most teenage boys, he was intimately familiar with its feel in his hand), as though a little shorter and thinner. Maybe it was just a reaction to being hit so hard on the field. The punishment had sure made his scrotum pull up towards his body – he could barely feel his testicles in it. He had heard that could happen as a defensive reflex with trauma. Yeah, that was it. He’d just been hit too much during practice. It was making his body swell in some places and shrink in others. That made sense.

Besides, it was difficult to tell about his cock when it was soft like this. He made sure no one was around, then stroked himself a little to see if his erection would put things right. Unfortunately, despite some very nice feelings, his cock remained only half-hard. He tried to help by imagining Amy naked, first picturing her breasts and bush without much response, but then concentrating on her ass. His mental picture turned and wiggled her behind at him. Yeah, that was better - a nice firm ass. You couldn’t beat a nice, toned behind. Like Richard’s, his center on the team. The image in his mind morphed slightly. Oh yeah, cute, tight buttocks. Now, there was an ass you could…

He gasped, realizing where his thoughts had wandered. Worse, he also realized that to heighten the pleasure, one hand had crept up to soap his breasts…chest. Whatever. The hand flew away guiltily, and Brad almost ran from the shower, clutching a towel defensively around his body when he heard the rest of the team filing in. The coach peered in hesitantly, and ran into his office when Brad made eye contact.

Brad managed to get some clothes on to mask his changes before the rest of the guys settled in, but then strangely, and despite significant confusion and guilt at the decision, he stayed to watch the rest of them shower and change.

The girls who didn’t head straight home were also changing in their locker room. Stephanie turned, feeling as though someone was staring at her, but found only Amy apparently busy with her shoes. Amy made an “oof” and managed to pull them on. She wiggled her jammed toes unhappily.

“Yow,” she complained. “These must have shrunk when they got wet or something.”

Of course, that didn’t explain why the rest of her clothes seemed so tight, but it was the best she could manage. She was not inclined to admit her feet were still growing.

“You got a cold, Amy?”

“No, why?”

Stephanie shrugged. She had noticed Amy’s voice sounded deeper.

When Amy pulled her shirt off – with some difficulty – Stephanie did a double take. Amy’s back and shoulders seemed much wider. She must have been doing some serious weight training. From the back, her upper body could almost be mistaken for a boy’s. She frowned. Sudden muscle development, the lower voice. Hmm.

Amy pulled at her bra. It was also tight, but only across the back and in the straps, and she frowned to see the cups weren’t stretched out at all. In fact, they seemed rather underfilled. Embarrassed, she quickly wrestled her clean shirt on, then pulled on some jeans, surprised when the usually tight jeans slid easily past her hips, but even more surprised to find the cuffs well above her ankles. She saw Stephanie staring.

“Guess they shrunk too.”

Stephanie was still examining Amy closely. She looked slightly different. Her chin, nose and ears seemed slightly more prominent, and the lump of her Adam’s apple was certainly more obvious than she remembered. She thought she could see some fine hairs along the upper lip. That seemed to confirm her earlier suspicons – her friend was on steroids.

“Um, Amy? Can I talk to you about something? Privately?”

Amy seemed to jump. She gave Stephanie an oddly eager smile.

“Sure, Steph. I’d like that. Oh, but I’m supposed to meet Brad after practice.” Her voice fell to a confidential and almost masculine rumble. “His parents are out of town.” Her eyes swept over Stephanie’s partially clad body almost hungrily, making the other girl self conscious. “How about we get together tomorrow? Just the two of us. And we’ll…talk.”

Stephanie nodded, wondering what was going on. She would have wondered even more if she’d seen Amy, with an unconscious gesture, reach into her panties as though to adjust something’s position.

It would be a very interesting evening with Brad indeed.

……………………………………………………………………………………………

End part 3

[TheoW]

Transfer Student 4

By Nomdreserv

Melanie’s mother, Diana, was working at her desk when Tiffany, a young secretary known for her party girl habits, delivered some papers.

"Hey, Diana, lookin’ good," she commented, noting the other woman’s trim, youthful appearance. "Lost some weight?"

"Yup," Diana admitted happily. "Hardly even noticed until today. I’ve got to buy some new clothes or something too. These suits are just SO boring."

Tiffany nodded. "Here are those reports you needed." She seemed to consider. "Some of the girls and I are going to stop by Vertigo after work. Wanna join us?"

Diana actually considered it, which was a surprise. Vertigo was a hot spot for young adults – usually single-and-looking, young adults – with loud music, a well-stocked bar, and fast and loose action. Not a spot favored by responsible, middle-aged women.

Of course, at the moment, Diana wasn’t one. Still, she felt the tug of responsibility if not years.

"I shouldn’t. I have to go home and…" She stopped. "Though maybe Melanie should make dinner again. She did a great job yesterday, and I just don’t feel like it. Maybe…" Another few seconds of struggle before responsibility won. "No, I’d better not."

Tiffany shrugged.

"Think it over. We’re gonna have a GOOD time."

She handed Diana the papers she needed, their hands brushing.

"God," Diana said wistfully. "To be young again. I wish I had your energy and enthusiasm."

And, suddenly, she did.

The physical changes weren’t as extreme this time. Diana was already significantly younger thanks to Vicky. There was some shifting: Diana’s skin tightening even more and glowing with the health of a 19 year old, her breasts shrinking slightly. Tiffany, meanwhile, had her skin and hair fade a little, her figure solidify and her breasts droop a bit as she inadvertently entered her late twenties.

More dramatic was the change in attitude. Tiffany seemed to sag, and her smile faded. Diana, in contrast, began to tap her foot as a surge of energy moved through her. It was almost impossible to sit still at her desk – work was just so boring when there was life to live, and she suddenly realized where she wanted to live it. Her eyes sparkled.

"Hey, Tiffany, wait a sec. I’ll go after all. God, I need to get out. I can’t believe I’ve been spending so much stupid time at home."

She left unstated her increasing discomfort about home, or even imagining herself as a wife and mother.

"Oh. Cool. Great." Tiffany answered without enthusiasm. "I’ll tell Cindi and the others."

Diana noted her sudden hesitation.

"What’s wrong? I’ve heard Vertigo is, like, super fantasmic."

"I guess," Tiffany herself was at a loss for the sudden ennui she felt. "I don’t know. It just suddenly seems…" She shrugged. "You know, a quiet evening at home reading or watching TV would be nice too."

Diana rolled her eyes impatiently. Some people just seemed old before their time.

Courtney wandered through the mall. The pleasure surges she had started to feel when using her medallion had become positively addictive. When school had ended, she had instinctively sought another place for many targets. By now, targets meant anyone. At this point, she had not only lost her guilt at what she was doing, or in how she might be affecting people’s lives, it had become her primary pleasure. And it was time to indulge herself again.

An attractive young woman in a skirted suit passed opportunely close to a middle-aged man. Courtney smiled and concentrated.

The woman began wondering why people were staring at her so strangely, some gazes lingering on her chest or legs, and others staring openly at her face and neck. She glanced down to make sure her blouse wasn’t undone. Nope, just the top button like always, revealing a modest glimpse of cleavage, with the usual mat of curly hair spread across.

It took half a second for the realization to scream through her mind.

She stopped short, staring at the hair on her chest, as thick and dark as most men. Her breasts were otherwise unchanged, but the fur made them almost unrecognizable. In horror, she pulled her blouse open, exposing her bra and chest almost completely. Several men stopped reflexively to catch a glimpse, then made a face and quickly averted their eyes when they got a better look.

A glance at her arms and legs revealed a similar distribution of thick hair there as well. It was particularly odd seeing the hair squashed flat beneath her fashionably sheer hose (well, not so fashionable on such hirsute legs). Curious or disgusted gazes followed as she nearly ran to the nearest restroom to look in a mirror and assess the full extent of the damage. She gasped at her reflection. Short, stiff hairs were so numerous on her face that they darkened her cheeks and chin, poking through the light foundation of her makeup, and producing an obvious 5 o’clock shadow.

In short, she needed a shave. Everywhere.

In panic, she ripped off her shirt, her bizarre behavior and appearance causing the only other occupants to scurry out. As soon as she was alone, she pulled her bra down.

Her breasts popped into view, still a nice C-cup size, but marred by a thick coat of curly chest hair. The hair seemed particularly grotesque clustered around her dark, pink and still decidedly feminine nipples, which perked up as they were exposed to the cool air.

A glance lower showed the hair covered her abdomen as well, tailing down to meet the much thicker mat that now poked above the top of her panties. Her lower body was just as bad, with her lush leg hair highlighted by her sheer pantyhose. Hell, even through the thin material, she could tell her legs were hairier than her boyfriend’s!

In desperation, she tried to hide the changes as best she could until she could get home. She plastered makeup over her rough beard and nascent mustache, tugged her sleeves and skirt as low as she could, then virtually ran through the mall. She still drew many stares, more than one person assuming she was a man poorly disguised in drag.

She wondered if anyone had ever tried bathing in depilatory.

The man, on the other hand, wouldn’t notice anything until he disrobed for bed that night, at which time his denuded body would draw many decidedly suspicious questions from his wife. And days on the beach would never be the same.

Courtney smiled and looked around. She’d gotten a small rush from that transfer, but she needed more. Two sisters, one 16 and the other 8, were looking at a window display.

"What a hot tube top," the little girl sighed, mimicking her sister’s comments.

"Hot?" the older girl snorted. "Like, get real. You need boobs to make that hot, squirt. And you’ve got nothing."

The smaller girl bristled.

"Mom says I’m starting to develop," she lied hopefully. "She even thinks I may get to wear a real bra next year."

"Whatever." The older girl snickered.

"Hey, look!" her sibling squealed. "I’m getting bigger already. Cool! Mom never said it happened THIS fast!"

The teen glanced down dismissively, then paused in astonishment. Sure enough, her younger sister seemed to be pushing her shirt out noticeably. Too noticeably. In fact, as they watched, her breasts inflated, pushing her shirt up and out of her jeans, and stretching her vanity training bra to its limits.

"That’s impossible!" the teen gasped. "How are you doing that?"

"I dunno. It feels all tingly," the younger girl admitted, then giggled. "Look, I’m bigger than you now."

"Wha…?" Her sister looked down in alarm. Her breasts looked wrong – and much too small. It had to be an illusion. She grabbed at her chest and was horrified to feel the loose bra cups collapse beneath her fingers. Even worse, her breasts weren’t just small, they were still shrinking! In fact, her shirt seemed to be deflating before their eyes.

"Eek! Stop it, stop it, stop it!" she demanded, though whether this was addressed to her sister or to some unseen titty fairy was uncertain.

"Ooh, cool!" her sister enthused, her own chest still swelling as the teen’s disappeared.

"Nooo!" the older girl wailed, the last of her boobs disappearing beneath her frantic fingers.

They were left to stare stupefied at each other, a short, slim, 8 year old, her body elsewhere still girl thin and undeveloped, but improbably sporting the sizable breasts of a previously well-endowed teenager, and her tall sister, with curved, sexy legs, round, shapely ass - and the completely flat chest and undeveloped nipples of a prepubescent girl.

The younger sister, though still trying to adjust to her new center of gravity, was the first to break the astonished silence. She blinked up innocently into her older sibling’s eyes.

"So, NOW can I get that tube top?"

Amy opened the door to Brad’s house.

"Hey, you here?" she called, immediately kicking off her too tight shoes. They were really killing her now, and she thought she might borrow some of Brad’s when she left. (How right she was.) All of her clothes felt tight, and she couldn’t keep her shirt tucked in. She figured it was some side effect of the humidity in the locker room. Oh well, she was hoping she wouldn’t keep them on much longer anyway.

"Hi," Brad answered, walking out of the kitchen. He was dressed in a very baggy shirt and jeans, deliberately chosen to hide the bizarre swellings his body had developed after practice. Strangely, he hadn’t had to search at all for something baggy to wear – all his clothes had seemed a little loose. Obviously, his mother had messed up his wash somehow.

Amy vaguely noticed that he looked a bit strange, but put the thoughts aside in her eagerness to finally relieve the lust that had been building all day. She ran to hug him, almost knocking him down in the process.

"Hey!" he complained, as she started to manhandle him. "Jesus, what have you been doing, working out? You hit like a linebacker."

Amy was getting a thrill at the rough physical play, especially when it almost seemed she was Brad’s equal. There was something exciting at the idea of physically overpowering him, as ridiculous as she knew the idea was.

Or would have been that morning. As it was, she nearly succeeded in wrestling him to the ground, finally stopping when he seemed to get worried. It was odd - he seemed to be having more and more trouble in holding his own as they grappled. She tried to change the subject back where she wanted.

"Linebacker, huh? Do linebackers do this?"

She tilted her head up to kiss him, then paused. She’d nearly missed. Normally, she had to reach up quite a bit to kiss the star athlete, but for some reason, she seemed almost as tall as he. She glanced down – they were both shoeless. But she noticed Brad’s pants were dragging over his feet. Had he been wearing lifts all this time without anyone noticing?

After a somewhat awkward pause, she pulled back. Brad looked weird. Despite the baggy shirt, his shoulders looked less broad and decidedly rounder, and his loose pants seemed even looser just where a man wants them to be full. His face seemed softer, less angular (though he’d obviously shaved before she came over – his face was as smooth as hers…or at least the way her face used to be), and he needed a haircut. Even worse, she could have sworn she’d felt a disturbingly familiar softness pressing against her chest when they’d hugged.

She shook her head. Her mind was playing tricks. It was impossible that Brad was actually smaller, and even more absurd to imagine the other things. What was she trying to do, change her boyfriend into her girlfriend?

Ooh, her thoughts tingled. What a deliciously kinky thought.

Brad noticed something was wrong too, but couldn’t quite place what it was. He did feel that annoying tingle that had been bothering him off and on all day. He was also embarrassed to notice that his nipples had become inadvertently stiff during their wrestling match. They had become very sensitive after his bruising at practice, and seemed to have swollen again. He was afraid Amy would feel them through his shirt.

They stared at each other in silence.

"So, um, rough practice?" she finally asked to break it.

He seemed relieved to have a sympathetic ear.

"You have no idea. It was simply awful. I was, like, trying really hard, but the other players just kept picking on me. And they couldn’t get the stupid patterns right, and then pretended it was my fault. And they hit real hard – it really, really hurt. I think they did it deliberately to be mean. And then Coach was picking on me. And…"

"Um, yeah, OK. Whatever," Amy interrupted. She wasn’t really interested. It had just been something to break the ice and get things restarted. She tried to steer the conversation where she was really interested. "Hey, lover, guess what? I told my parents I’d be at Megan’s tonight. She’ll cover if they call. We’ve got all night." She wrapped her arms around him.

"Um, great," he said, rather less enthusiastically than she’d hoped. Why did Amy have to be so preoccupied with sex? Was that all he was to her, a boy toy? He tried to disengage, but found it even harder than before. He must have strained his muscles at practice, making him weak. Sure, that made sense. Might even explain that stupid tingling.

Amy began fondling his crotch.

"Are you ready…stud?" She paused at the last word, and it came out a surprised question. Brad was usually ready instantly and constantly, and right now that was exactly what she wanted. Instead, his privates displayed even less enthusiasm than his voice had. She felt disappointed and a little frustrated, but that hardly dissuaded her. He probably just needed a little encouragement. At the moment, her usual thoughts of foreplay and slow arousal seemed to have deserted her. One thing came to mind as a sure-fire aphrodisiac.

"Come on," she called. "Let’s get naked."

She almost literally dragged him to the bedroom (Brad wasn’t even sure he could have stopped her if he’d tried). He watched as she struggled with her tight shirt.

"Damn thing shrunk or something," she grunted.

With a rip, she pulled it free. She was pleased to hear Brad gasp as her body was exposed, but would have been less pleased to know that it was the sight of her square shoulders and solid upper arms instead of her breasts that had caused the reaction.

In fact, her breasts seemed one of her very least impressive features at the moment. Brad noticed her bra cups seemed partially collapsed and decidedly underfilled. Only the width of her upper body made the bra seem tight at all. He also couldn't help noticing the new, thin but dark hair that crept up her lower abdomen above her panties, and the bushier hair beneath her arms. Seemed Amy had gone jungle or something.

She smiled seductively at him, continuing with her unintentionally revealing striptease. As she flexed her arms to remove her bra, there were noticeable biceps bulges on each arm. Together with the way her chest and shoulders seemed to have expanded, it gave her upper body an almost masculine look.

And for the first time since she’d arrived, Brad felt a stir of excitement.

Oddly, his penis seemed to stiffen only slightly, but his nipples rehardened almost painfully. He was glad he’d chosen the baggy shirt.

Amy removed her bra, and tried to shake her breasts enticingly. Unfortunately, they were so small and close to her chest, they barely jiggled. The nipples seemed smaller and paler, and Brad thought he saw a few curly hairs sprinkled around them which made him stare.

She misinterpreted the look. She had been a little concerned again when she’d seen how loose her bra was (Could there be an opposite of water weight gain that shrank a girl’s boobs, she wondered.), but Brad’s obvious fascination relieved her. She walked over and thrust her chest out proudly.

"Like what you see?"

"Uh…"

She grabbed his hand and held it against her breasts, expecting the usual erotic jolt from her excited nipples. She was disappointed to feel a much more muted tingle, as though her nipples were less sensitive. Even more surprising, her slightly stiff nipples seemed to deflate beneath his fingers.

Though, of course, Brad’s became almost painfully hard as a result.

"Come on," she growled, her voice seeming to settle a half octave lower. "Hurry up."

She undid her pants and slid them down, revealing long, muscular legs that obviously hadn’t been shaved in a while. She frowned. She’d just done it last weekend. Must have been a defective razor. No wonder the girls had given her some odd looks in the locker room. She shrugged it off – there was only one thing she wanted now.

And she was therefore irritated to find Brad still standing there fully dressed. Irritated enough not to notice that they now stood exactly the same height.

"What are you waiting for?" she demanded. "You’re the one usually tearing my clothes off by this point. What’s going on?"

Brad hesitated. He had several reasons for his reluctance. One was a decided and completely new shyness about his body and what people would think about it. Of course, given what he’d seen in the mirror earlier, this was understandable, though it went deeper than that. A more important reason was his desperation not to let Amy see how weak his erection was. As impossible as it seemed, he could swear his cock felt even smaller since she’d started rubbing against him. He tried to cover and pretend some enthusiasm.

"Just enjoying the view," he cooed. (A small alarm – since when did he coo?) "I feel like giving you a special treat first." It was a lie, but maybe if he could bring her off, she’d stop being so obnoxiously fixated on sex. "Why don’t you lie down on the bed?"

Amy wondered why he was pretending to speak in such a funny, high voice, but when she heard the offer, she stopped caring. It was about time she got some action. She nearly jumped out of her panties, revealing a firm, athletic behind to match her legs, and jumped onto the bed.

Brad somewhat reluctantly followed. He marveled again at how firm and toned her body had become. He really needed to hit the weight rooms himself to avoid future embarrassment (too late). Remembering how much Amy loved foreplay, he thought he could buy some extra time by taking it slow. He began running his hands along her legs and upper body, noticing how small his own hands looked as he rubbed her body.

Unfortunately, his deliberate teasing didn’t seem to please her the way it usually did.

"Come on, baby," she said gruffly. "You know where I want it."

He ran his fingers obediently down to her crotch, surprised to find her less wet than her obvious excitement would have suggested. He also gasped at an unexpectedly large and very firm bump at the top of her cleft.

"What?" she asked, hearing his surprise.

He was staring at the fleshy, pink protrusion, almost as thick as his thumb, that stood at least a full two inches clear of her labial folds.

"Your…clit," he finally admitted. "It looks…huge."

An unexpected feeling of pride rather than alarm over her size ran through her. It was good to be big.

"That’s because I’m so excited lover. Never seen one so big? Well, time to join the big leagues. Do me, baby."

She was amazed at her own brashness, thrusting her pelvis out proudly and laying back to enjoy his reaction. Maybe she was more woman than he could handle (though less was rather closer to the truth). She vaguely noticed that Brad’s look of astonishment gave his face an almost effeminate look, heightened by his longer hair style. He unconsciously brushed the hair back away from his face, increasing the effect. He really needed to get a haircut, or some people might think he was a girl.

She giggled silently at the thought, but also felt a surprising tingle of excitement at the thought of another girl serving her there. Visions of Stephanie briefly filled her mind as she pulled Brad’s hand back to her sex.

Brad took the hint and experimentally stroked the giant clit to Amy’s obvious satisfaction.

"Oh, yeah, baby," she encouraged him. "That feels great."

It did, too. Normally, she liked having her pussy played with a bit more before receiving full attention there, but right now, her sexual pleasure seemed entirely centered on her enlarged clit. In fact, all thoughts of being fucked evaporated – the very thought of penetration left her cold. Who cared what had made it swell like this? All that mattered was for him to keep stroking her there.

It seemed to throb and grow beneath his fingers, and he could swear it was sticking out even farther. When he tried to vary his strokes with a finger in her usually sensitive vagina, he found it almost too small and tight to enter. Was that a side effect of her clitoral swelling? Not being one of the student body’s brightest mind or having ever really studied female physiology, Brad wasn’t sure. He really wished he’d paid more attention during sex ed when they’d discussed that area instead of making crude jokes with the other jocks. (After all, there was a hole there – what else did they need to know?) He also noticed that lying down, her breasts seemed to have disappeared entirely. She had pretty good pecs though – funny he hadn’t noticed that before. As he pondered the unsuspected mysteries of the female sex, his hand slowed down, and she bucked her hips to encourage him to keep his mind on the job. He brushed the hair out of his face yet again and went back to work.

Amy was soon moaning and sighing again, but still seemed unsatisfied. At last, she held his hand.

"You know what’d be really great, baby?" she asked in a deep, throaty tenor. "If you’d eat me."

Brad hesitated, obviously put off, and she immediately continued earnestly.

"Come on, baby. I do it to you. I NEED this. Lick me. Suck it. You know I love it…you," she corrected. "You know I love you."

Brad felt a flush, his happiness at her declaration deciding him. Strangely, he also felt a warm flush in his groin which was different than anything he could remember. His nipples tingled and seemed to be brushing against his shirt more. The swelling had obviously gotten worse.

He bent his face to her crotch, inhaling the familiar musky scent that now mixed with his own, and gingerly took the clit in his mouth. It felt even larger this way. He could swear it was as long and even thicker than his thumb (not that he sucked his thumb that often as a comparison), and when he swirled his tongue around it, Amy screamed.

"Oh yeah, baby! That’s the shit! Suck me!"

He did. In fact, he was beginning to feel a strange excitement at the idea, even if her clit was impossibly large. Was it normal for them to get this big? He knew the clitoris was analogous to the penis. Why shouldn’t it swell up like one? Maybe the girls he had been with before just hadn’t been that excited. Sure, that was it – his technique had just gotten better. It was cool to finally drive a girl crazy like this. Once he overcame his reservations, he really started to get into it. Her reaction showed how good a lover he was, so the bigger and thicker it was, the better. It was like a clit-cock.

The idea thrilled him. He was sucking a clit-cock. Cool. He closed his eyes, and his imagination went to work, pretending it was swelling even larger in his mouth.

Exactly as it was.

He also felt her vaginal folds swell and push out in her excitement, forming puffy sacs on either side, another new reaction. God, he was good! Neither noticed, but there was no longer any trace of the actual vaginal opening, and his saliva disguised the fact that she’d dried up her own lubrication.

On the other hand, that warm feeling in his pelvis had spread. He must be really sweating since he felt a little wet down there. He felt another tingle in his groin and moved to reposition his tiny penis. In another flash of embarrassment, he realized that despite his increasing excitement, his own cock seemed to have shrunk again. His injury during practice must have messed him up big time. His once proud member now felt smaller and softer than his girlfriend’s clit-cock. For a second, he imagined the absolute mortification if they were to stand side by side in comparison, with Amy’s engorged clit dwarfing his rebellious member, sticking straight out and mocking him while his own shriveled and hid.

And then he was surprised and even more ashamed as he imagined her sticking it somewhere else.

His thoughts were interrupted as Amy grabbed his head and began thrusting her clit in his mouth. Each thrust seemed to make it grow a bit larger. Brad could swear it had reached the back of his throat and filled his mouth. A bit panicked, he tried to pull away.

She held him harder, her hands strangely powerful.

"No, baby, don’t stop," she pleaded, her voice deep and husky. "It’s so good. You’re so good. You’re incredible. You make me so hot. Of, God! You’re fantastic!"

Brad’s shrinking cock seemed to twitch at the praise. He felt a small shudder, and realized in horror that he must have come and wet himself. He hadn’t felt his usual climax, but there was a slick wetness between his legs, and his briefs felt soaked. As he continued giving Amy head, he reached down to play with himself. He wanted…something. He started rubbing his tiny cock through his wet pants, barely able to feel it any more, but still getting a sexual pleasure as he massaged the spot. He rubbed more quickly, and was too preoccupied to notice there was something else he wasn’t feeling. Besides, who cared? His whole crotch seemed more sensitive, and his hand moved automatically along a familiar slit. His whole body began rocking in sympathy, and he felt an unaccustomed swinging sensation at his chest. His mind should have screamed a warning, but the pleasant friction the extra pressure placed on his stiff nipples as they rubbed his shirt distracted him.

They both began moaning. Brad noticed a salty taste from Amy’s clit, unlike her usual feminine musk. It was vaguely familiar, and that wayward alarm finally began to sound as he recognized what it was. He tried once more to pull away.

Amy wouldn’t have it. She was ready to come, and no one was going to deny her when she was this close. She reached down to hold Brad firmly in place, inadvertently grabbing his chest. She reflexively squeezed as she felt two large, firm mounds beneath her hands, then tweaked the stiff nipples that pushed through her fingers. Brad yelped in response, then began to make a series of small, high-pitched cries as he came.

Even as Amy opened her eyes in shock – to find a long-haired, undeniably feminine face at her crotch – a familiar yet subtly different pressure began to build in her pelvis. It was more focused than usual, with all the sensation and urgency in her body now centered on her clit. It throbbed, and she felt a loosening, almost like needing to pee but much more intense and purely sexual. She instinctively reached out to hold Brad’s mouth in place as the pressure built beyond her control. She needed to come.

And she did. In an active, pulsing orgasm more powerful than any she’d felt, she erupted in his mouth. She cried out in a baritone voice that surprised Brad almost as much as the sudden burst of hot, thick cum against his throat. He gagged as she filled his mouth with it, still holding him with her hands while he coughed and spluttered and tried vainly to pull away. He felt her cock jerk and pulse in his mouth, flooding it, until he had to swallow in order to breathe.

The impossibility of what had just happened stunned them both. As Amy regained control, she released Brad’s head, and he sprang back, staring at her in disbelief and anger, cum still dribbling from the side of his mouth. Amy was still slightly disoriented by her climax as well, though she was disappointed to feel the power of her orgasm dissipate rapidly, disappointing her. It had been more intense than normal, but had also ended more quickly, leaving her feeling strangely detached. As they came to their senses, they exchanged glances – hers satisfied, his accusing – and both did double takes, staring with their mouths open.

Brad found himself sitting between the legs of a powerfully built young man, with lightly furred skin, well-developed upper body and broad shoulders, muscled legs, and a large, barely-softening cock, which he realized with horror was wet from his saliva. In addition to his obvious shock, disgust and anger at the trick Amy had evidently played, there was also a small pang of envy – the guy was better hung than he was.

"What the fuck?" he demanded, then grabbed at his throat. His voice was all wrong – high and soft, like a girl’s. As he reached for it, his arms brushed against two soft, full mounds on his chest, sending small jolts from the stiff nipples atop them. What the hell had happened to his chest? He had breasts like a girl! (By this point, most people would have noticed the rather obvious pattern and made the necessary inferences, but Brad wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed. We’ll give him the benefit of the doubt and excuse his obtuseness on the basis of shock.) They looked huge from his vantage point, though understandably, any breasts can seem excessive to a boy when they’re on his own chest. Hell, he looked bigger than Amy.

Especially at the moment.

Amy saw the girl that had been servicing her jump and gasp, then grab her throat in shock after the exclamation. She jumped back herself in surprise, briefly wondering if Brad had finally managed to fulfill the nearly universal male fantasy of two women. The other girl was quite beautiful, even if she was dressed strangely in ill-fitting clothes. Brad’s clothes. Amy instinctively moved to cover her exposed sex, in this case, covering her still hard cock with her hands.

The shock of realizing what it was that she held made her briefly forget the girl. She looked down to see large, mannish hands held over an instantly recognizable but heretofore nonexistent appendage. She noticed the dark hair sprinkled over her hands and muscled arms as she held them up for better examination and to reveal the impossibility beneath.

Yes, she was sporting a large and obviously fully functional cock. How, she had no idea. She was sure it hadn’t been there before (a girl tends to notice these things), but it was clearly there now, and pointing accusingly at the girl who had just brought her off.

And it felt great.

Of course, the "girl" in Brad’s clothes didn’t seem quite so pleased.

Being considerably quicker on the uptake than Brad, and fortunately of a remarkably cool and calm nature, Amy pretty much figured out what had happened. The how was still a complete loss, but the what was obvious. To her own surprise, her first result was an erotic thrill at the idea. She reached out to caress her new cock experimentally, feeling a powerful surge of pleasure that immediately halted the softening that had followed her orgasm. She frankly didn’t care at the moment how she’d gotten it – touching it felt great, and she proceeded to do so more vigorously.

The girl on the bed looked at her in disgust and anger.

"What the fuck do you think you’re doing?" she demanded. "Get the fuck out of here before I pound the shit out of you. Fucking queer. Where the hell is Amy?"

Amy realized Brad’s confusion was a bit denser than hers.

"Calm down, Brad," she suggested. She noticed his soft, feminine body and much thinner upper arms, and couldn’t resist adding with a smile. "Besides, you’re not going to be pounding anyone for a while. As for the fucking part, I…"

Brad erupted in rage.

"I warned you, man." He balled a small, delicate fist, then launched it.

Acting instinctively, Amy caught it in her palm, stopping the punch effortlessly. She felt a thrill at her new size and strength, almost enough to overcome the inevitable undercurrent of panic at their situation.

Brad couldn’t understand how this guy could overpower him so easily. Gay sex seemed the nightmarish end to a nightmarish day (though oddly, the realization of what he’d done didn’t fill him with the quite the horror it should have). He struggled in vain with his unrecognized partner, making his new boobs bounce quite fetchingly.

"Stop it! Let me go," he demanded. "What the hell’s going on?"

"Brad! It’s me, Amy," the boy said in a deep, take-charge voice, pinning Brad to minimize the distraction. "Calm down. Obviously…something’s happened."

"Amy?’ he gasped in disbelief, hair falling over his eyes as he continued to struggle hysterically. "That’s impossible! That’s stupid! That’s…that’s…"

She figured the direct approach was best. She freed one arm and pulled up his shirt, revealing two large, pert breasts jiggling. As Brad stared, she grabbed one firmly, making him gasp.

"Brad, you’ve got boobs. I’ve got a cock." She waved almost proudly at it. "THAT’S the situation. Unless you’ve got something constructive to add, shut up and let me think."

Brad stopped struggling. He stared stupidly at his thin, almost hairless arms and small body, and most especially at the new mounds that blocked his view below. He noted again the telltale wetness at his crotch, and only now realized there was a familiar musky scent as well.

And he could feel Amy’s 8 inch erection poking into his thigh.

With that, he burst into tears again.

Courtney was getting bored with her standard changes, a feeling exacerbated since the pleasant glow that seemed to fill her from the medallion when she used it had diminished as well. She saw a teenage boy playfully teasing his preteen brother and decided to do a quick switch similar to the sisters she had tormented earlier. Both boys briefly got strange looks in their eyes before deciding they must be imagining things, though the younger had to readjust the crotch of his underwear to relieve the sudden and unaccustomed strain. They’d be in for quite a surprise the next time they showered, though Courtney really had fun imagining the result if the teenager tried anything with his girlfriend.

A boy and girl teen couple walked by, drawing her attention. The girl abruptly found her bag almost amazingly light, while the boy wondered why his backpack had become so heavy. He struggled to keep up with her suddenly powerful strides. Courtney really enjoyed watching the results when she transferred men’s strength to their female companions, remembering her own exultation at besting her brother. She assumed all these girls and women would be similarly thrilled to find themselves so much stronger than their sapped siblings, boyfriends and husbands (or, in one case, a 6 year old daughter and her father – Courtney giggled as she imagined how his position in the family would change). But the pleasure returns were growing smaller. As much fun as this had been, Courtney (and the medallion) needed something bigger to satisfy them.

She imagined a mall-wide – Hell! A city-wide – transfer of size and strength, with thousands of suddenly larger and physically dominant females looking down on their surprised and dwindling male cohorts, and the thought gave her a warm and pleasant tingle in the pelvis. Now that would be satisfying: reversing that accident of biology that led so many men to consider themselves superior, and that left women at risk. How long would male chauvinism last if men were only as tall as their girlfriends’ chests, and were only as strong as 3 year olds?

The idea was intoxicating, but she tried to restrain herself. There would be a very public outcry and investigation, and she wasn’t able to handle changes on that scale.

Yet.

That simple qualifier would have shocked her old self, as would her increasing disregard for the ramifications of the changes she was making. But, of course, she wasn’t really her old self anymore.

Whispers of this tugged at her consciousness. She felt occasional flashes of unexpected recognition or familiarity with places or faces she passed. Stray thoughts darted through her mind – names, responsibilities – old ones fading, and new ones forming. She almost panicked when she remembered she hadn’t prepared her presentation for the 7 o’clock meeting… until she realized she didn’t have a 7 o’clock meeting. Weird. She vaguely recalled there was homework for school, but couldn’t quite remember what the assignments – or her classes – were. Oh well, that wasn’t really important when she had this kind of power. What’s-her-name, her friend, could help her.

Besides, a whole new set of targets had come into view as she entered the food court. Her powers had expanded (she knew this instinctively, but wasn’t concerned about how it happened) to the point that she could make the changes without having the subjects touch as long as she concentrated on them. This made her mischief much easier and open-ended.

She transferred the knowledge and confidence of a smartly dressed businesswoman to a 13 year old girl sitting laughing with her friends. The girl seemed unaware as yet of the change, except that her comments and jokes became more self-assured and pointed, but the woman blinked in sudden and complete ignorance at the spreadsheet she’d been working on. For extra fun, Courtney switched their fashion sense and preferences as well, picturing the woman showing up for work tomorrow in shorts and a crop top while the girl went to school in a conservative jacket and skirt.

A thin, athletic woman suddenly developed a powerful appetite with a special craving for fat. She immediately got in line to order a bacon double cheeseburger and large fries, her mouth watering even as she mentally kicked herself, knowing what the calories could – and would - do to her trim figure. Her worries were compounded when she realized how much she hated her usual exercise regimen – maybe she’d take a few days off. What could it hurt? Meanwhile, an overweight teen looked at his meal in disgust and wondered why he hadn’t ordered a salad. He would start a jogging regimen that very day.

Mild pleasure tingles, but Courtney was still looking for something bigger. Then she saw them. At the first hint of the idea, she felt an appreciative glow from the medallion.

An obviously pregnant 30 year old, trying to control her two other small children, was drawing icy stares from another trim, young professional woman wearing very tight and flattering custom-tailored clothes. The woman was trying to conduct business on her cell phone, and was clearly put off both by the children’s noise, and in apparent disapproval of the pregnant lady’s intent to bring another into the world.

The medallion fairly burned in its eagerness. Courtney knew it would be a stretch – she wasn’t even sure it was possible, but…

The businesswoman grunted as she felt her skirt tighten. She hadn’t eaten that much, so she must have inadvertently shifted it. She reached absently to readjust it, but stopped when her hand encountered an unexpected roundness, with the skirt digging into her waist beneath. What the hell? Her carefully monitored weight had been perfect that morning, and the skirt had fit fine. How could her stomach have changed so much?

She looked down and gasped to see a decided bulge – quite obvious and distinct – at the top of her pelvis. Could she really have gained that much weight just in a day? Even stranger, the bulge was all in one place, and lower than expected. In fact, it was almost like…

She jumped up with a shriek at the sight of her characteristically swelling body, her belly clearly spreading over the top of her too tight skirt. Her shirt buttons began to gap, and she felt her bra tighten as her breasts expanded to match. Her belly button popped into view as her stomach pushed irresistibly out. She looked around in a panic as her "condition" became obvious, drawing a number of curious stares.

One was from the 30 year old woman. She wondered what had spooked the other mother-to-be, and why she still chose to wear such ill-fitting and inappropriate clothes. Reflexively, she looked at her own, surprisingly comfortable belly.

Now it was her turn to shriek. Her stomach looked smaller – indeed, it seemed to be deflating before her eyes. She grabbed at it while screaming.

And Courtney’s stomach flipped, settling back with an icy sickness that made her go pale.

It may have been those heartfelt, maternal screams that did it, or perhaps just a resurgence of her old self, but Courtney suddenly saw what she was doing in the horror of reality. She almost panicked herself, which would have lost them all, but managed to keep control and reverse the transfer. She felt an increasingly sick remorse and near despair at her actions, barely able to finish restoring them before running away in embarrassment and self-disgust, and leaving two very shaken and mystified women in her wake.

And, somewhere out of time and space, someone who looked very like the man who had sold her the medallion sighed. He had been looking at a small object that superficially resembled an ornate pocketwatch, and he now closed the cover in disappointment. He’d nearly had her. Oh, to be sure, she was already effectively his - she was too far gone to find her way back – but he needed that last break in morality to finalize it. Playing with life would have been a delicious way to take her. So much potential.

Oh well, he could wait. Patience was a virtue.

But he practiced it anyway.

END PART 4

Copyright 2000 by Nomdreserv

[TheoW]

Transfer Student 5

By Nomdreserv

Melanie was astounded to find another girl going through her closet when she got home from school. The intruder was wearing only slightly ill-fitting and styled underwear – too large and matronly for her girlish figure - and she turned in guilty surprise as she heard Melanie. Melanie was even more astonished when she recognized the girl.

"Mom?" she gasped.

"Hi, Melanie," Diana greeted. "Hope you don’t mind my borrowing a couple of things." She held up Melanie’s sexiest skirt and most expensive blouse. As she did, her panties started to slide, too large for now slim hips. Her mother caught them and giggled. "And maybe some underwear too. My stuff’s all stretched out or something."

Melanie simply stared. Her mother was much thinner – as thin as she was…or used to be, she remembered with a pang. It made her look younger. MUCH younger. In fact, she could barely pass as an older sister of the astonished teen, let alone her mother.

"Um, sure…Mom," Melanie stammered. It felt strange calling someone so young looking "mom." Melanie wondered how she could have changed so much. Hadn’t she looked normal this morning? "I guess. Um, did you get your hair done or something?"

"Why?" Diana asked in fearful vanity. "Does it look funny?" A quick glance reassured her. She looked fine. Better than fine. She literally looked as good as her teenage daughter. Melanie’s stuff would look great on her too. She started rummaging through the closet again.

"Can I snag some shoes too? My stuff’s all too big or too yucky, and my shoes are, like, totally maternal. I was gonna buy some stuff, but figured this would be faster. Especially when I remembered that totally hot outfit you wore last week."

She held up the barely mid-thigh length skirt appraisingly. She had berated Melanie about it for being too revealing, but seemed quite pleased with it at the moment. She continued in an absently dreamy voice.

"Do you think you can handle dinner again tonight? I’m meeting some friends."

"Um, OK," Melanie agreed reluctantly, still unnerved by her mother’s appearance and behavior. Something glinted on her mother’s chest. A medallion. HER medallion. What else was her mother "borrowing?"

"Thanks," her mother said thoughtlessly. "You’re an angel. I think you’re the only one around here who’s really responsible."

The medallion seemed to glow, and Melanie felt a rush. She suddenly FELT responsible. She crossed her arms and regarded her mother severely.

"So, who are these ‘friends’?"

"Oh, just some girls from work."

"Speaking of work, Mom, what are you doing home already? Didn’t you have a meeting tonight?"

"Oh, Jesus," her mother rolled her eyes at the interrogation. "I canceled the meeting. They were, like, totally bummed, but who cares, you know? What a bunch of losers. Besides, I hadn’t gotten any stuff done for it anyway. Work was, like, mega-boring, you know? And I just had to change out of that horrible suit I was wearing. Why didn’t you tell me my clothes were so awful? Do you think these shoes will go with the skirt?""

Melanie blinked, briefly put off by the sudden subject switch. She merely glanced at the shoes.

"Never mind shoes. Won’t you get in trouble missing work?"

Her mother shrugged, one loose bra strap sliding over her shoulder. To Melanie’s annoyance, she didn’t bother setting it back.

"No one saw me leave, so who will know? Besides, who cares?"

Melanie was shocked.

"I care. And how late do you expect to be out?"

Diana rolled her eyes again.

"I don’t know. I’ve never been to this place." She suddenly giggled girlishly. "And who knows where we’ll go afterwards."

"Mom!" Melanie protested.

Diana shook her finger warningly.

"Don’t take that tone with me, young lady." She paused. Why did it seem so strange calling her daughter "young lady?" She shrugged it off. "I deserve a night out. You have no idea what it’s like being a wife and mother. It’s like totally hard and serious and stuff. I wish you could try living my life for a change."

They both shivered from the odd tingle. Melanie felt a surge of protectiveness and concern about her mother, a new resignation about dinner and covering for her, not to mention some very…odd thoughts about her father. Diana, on the other hand, felt the last weight of responsibility slip from her shoulders – as well as the second bra strap. She started getting dressed in Melanie’s clothes.

"Now, Mom," Melanie tried to reason with her. "You know I worry about you." It sounded lame, but somehow she couldn’t help herself.

"You just wanna control me," Diana whined. "’Where are you going?’ ‘What are you wearing?’ Yada, yada, yada. Well, forget it. Your not the boss of me, so give me a break." She pulled on the skirt and admired the way it exposed her legs. They looked great – not an ounce of extra fat, almost girl slim. Hell, they looked better than Melanie’s. The thought gave Diana a glow of satisfaction, and neither noticed as hers toned yet more, becoming model perfect, while Melanie’s seemed to lose a bit of shape, the curves less pleasing and the skin dimpling.

A sense of something wrong tugged at Melanie. She fixed on the too-short skirt as a target.

"Mom, that skirt…"

"It’s totally hot, isn’t it?" Diana enthused. "I am sooo glad you got it."

Melanie frowned. She HAD thought it was hot, especially when she’d worn it last weekend. Now it just seemed…indecent.

"It’s too short," she tried to protest. "You have to be really careful or you’ll show your panties." Not that the drawback had bothered her before.

"So?" her mother asked with a wicked gleam in her eye. "Who says I don’t want to?"

"Mommm!"

"Oh, grow up!" Diana shot back.

Neither noticed the slight morphing that followed. Melanie’s face defined, her nose becoming more prominent and her cheeks more angled, her breasts enlarged slightly and drooped, while her mother’s shrank and tightened as the years flowed between them. Diana’s face rounded, and her complexion changed, showing mild acne typical of middle adolescence. Fortunately for them both, Melanie only needed a few years to "grow up," and was soon left as a 20 something woman confronting her 16 year old mother.

"Come on," Melanie continued to plead with the girl. "Wear this skirt instead." She held up an ankle-length denim wrap-around. "It’s cute."

"That’s not what YOU said last weekend," her mother countered gleefully. Of course, looking at her daughter’s sagging body, drained of youth and tone, she could understand Melanie’s own reluctance to wear something so revealing. "And now I agree with you." She smiled teasingly, looking critically at her daughter’s slight tummy bulge and dimpled thighs, then added nastily. "Why are you so modest suddenly? I thought you liked showing off your hot little body. Well, maybe not so little these days, huh? That must explain it. It’s like you’ve got ALL the inhibitions now, instead of me."

Another tingle. Melanie wrapped her clothes modestly around her new body, suddenly feeling extremely nervous and self-conscious, while an even more wicked, almost wanton gleam came to her mother’s eye. They argued to no avail, and finally Diana simply invoked the maternal, "Because I said so!" A highly unusual trump card from a 16 year old. Defeated, Melanie stalked angrily downstairs to start dinner.

As soon as she was gone (with an unseen tongue at her back), Diana slipped her clothes off once more. This time, the bra was left on the floor when she dressed, and she felt delightfully naughty at the feel of the silky blouse against her otherwise bare breasts. She saw the way her pert nipples showed through the thin material and was satisfied.

Then she was off to party – an irresponsible, uninhibited 16 year old out on her own.

No wonder Melanie looked so worried while she prepared dinner.

"This is impossible," Brad moaned, unconsciously cupping his full breasts.

"Stop saying that," Amy snapped, finding herself unaccountably fascinated by those sexy mounds. Was this how boys saw them? In her new male body, she felt an unexpected sympathy for all the stares at her chest she’d endured over the years. "It’s happened. Get over it. The point now is to figure out what to do about it. Deal with it."

"Deal with it?" Brad’s girlish voice rose to a wail. "This is a fucking nightmare! I’ve turned into a stupid, fucking girl!"

Amy’s eyes narrowed.

"And what’s so terrible about being a girl?"

Brad paled as the much larger and threatening Amy glowered.

"N…nothing. Not if you’re stuck…I mean, born as one." He rallied. "Come on, Amy. You know what I mean."

She sighed – she did. Trying to convince her friends and family, let alone get on with her life, would be considerably difficult under the circumstances. At least, if it meant continuing her old life. To be honest, visions of leading the football team instead of cheering it came unbidden to mind, and held a degree of attraction she hadn’t expected. Until now, the prospect would have seemed remote at best. Now, well…the sensations and power of her new, large male body were exciting and a bit intoxicating, especially the sensations she’d felt through her still firm and quite large cock. She stroked it unconsciously as she spoke.

"OK, let’s think. Pissed off any witches lately? I noticed Susan had a funny look in her eye when we joked about what we’d do if we had magic powers the other day, but I haven’t seen her since her birthday. Have you visited any of those TG websites during freak thunderstorms? Bought any strange medallions?"

Brad shook his head, almost hypnotized as he watched Amy stroking her cock. It looked so different seeing one from this angle and on someone else. God, it looked huge. How would it ever fit…? His blood froze as he realized where he was imagining putting it. He was a boy, damn it, no matter what he looked like.

Mind, what he looked like was anything but a boy. He noticed again how large and heavy his breasts seemed. Amy noticed too, and Brad caught her gaze holding repeatedly on his chest. Not remembering how often he had also confused the location of a woman’s face, he became uncomfortable with the attention. He moved his arms to hide them, gasping as they brushed his stiff nipples. Amy smiled.

"Shy? Don’t know why. You were always after me to show mine – now it’s your turn."

Brad grumbled. "This is different."

"Oh?" Amy persisted, strangely eager to see Brad’s body. "Hey, are you sure you’ve changed all the way? Take off your pants."

Brad jumped. "No way!"

"Come on, we need to know. Besides, it’s nothing I haven’t seen either way."

Brad frowned, not liking the way Amy’s cock had jumped at the thought of his undressing. Besides, the dampness between his legs told him all he needed to know. Still, he also felt a certain undeniable curiosity. If he had one, what did it look like? Would it also look different from this angle? And, more important, what did it feel like? He felt an irresistible urge to find out, and rationalized that it was all right as long as they were in this together. Slowly, he pulled down his loose pants and briefs. Sure enough, there was a neat triangular patch of pubic hair showing on the otherwise bare skin of his pelvis. Brad still let out a small gasp as he saw in plain sight what he already knew – there was no trace of his manhood. Of course, he couldn’t see what he looked like from this vantage point, but a quick touch confirmed that he was the proud owner of a fully developed and very sensitive pussy.

And he was very wet.

That was obvious, even if the musky aroma released when he bared his pelvis hadn’t announced it already. Amy smiled.

"So, you have an accident, or are you just happy to see me?"

"Amy!" he protested, moving to recover his exposed genitalia. He gasped again as his finger rubbed over the slick, engorged folds of his labia, and brushed against the nubbin that used to be his cock.

"Don’t be so lame," she said in exasperation. "I happen to be very familiar with the geography, and know EXACTLY how you feel."

She seemed unduly interested despite the disclaimer, and Brad noticed her cock twitch in excitement again. It didn’t help when he recognized a familiar, lustful gleam in her eye.

"Hey, I’ve got an idea," Amy announced. "We changed while having sex, right?"

Brad nodded uncertainly, remembering how he had looked after football practice. Still, it seemed a possible trigger.

"OK, so there’s some magic or nanites or EM field thingy that caused it. Whatever. So it happens when you orgasm or something. All we have to do is have sex and see if we switch back."

Now, as plans go, this probably doesn’t seem like the most successful and carefully analyzed of strategies to our dispassionate readers. However, you must remember, Amy was dealing with a new and almost overwhelming rush of physical sensations – sensations she was eager to experience in full. She was also finding out something all of our male readers already know: namely, it is very difficult to think about something other than sex when you’re sitting on a bed with a naked and aroused woman.

Of course, for people .,k;mmlike the author, it’s difficult under any other circumstances as well. Why at this very moment, the author is imagining…

Er, sorry. Back to the story.

"You’re crazy!" Brad gulped. "How can you even think of having sex like this?"

Amy unconsciously rubbed her large cock, reveling in the sensation. It was such a bizarre change to have this huge, sensitive attachment dominating her pelvis, she just had to give it a real test. And what better way to try it out? For pure scientific curiosity, of course.

"Come on, we’ve had sex lots of times."

"But not like this," Brad still protested. "You’d have to…to…" He waved vaguely at their obviously aroused equipment.

"Yeah," Amy agreed dreamily. She was feeling an overpowering urge to get going, a desperation she could actually feel inside. She wondered if guys were always this obsessed and eager. (Oh, Amy, if you only knew.)

"But you…I mean, I…" Brad, usually the one eager for sex was feeling unaccountably reluctant. He suddenly felt like he was guarding the gates, so to speak, when he was usually the besieger. What if he had changed internally? There could be…consequences.

Amy had started rubbing his shoulders, and he relaxed a bit. When her hands moved to his aroused nipples and expertly manipulated them, he weakened. The sensation seemed to move right through him and center in his pelvis.

"Come on, Brad. It’ll be great."

He began to lose his resolve in a building lust. He did want it. He wanted to feel that huge cock inside him, and at this point he wouldn’t have cared if it had been his friend Steve making the offer instead of Amy. He began to lie down under her gentle pressure.

"You really think this will work?" he asked, looking for justification.

"Absolutely," Amy lied, moving to mount him in an unexpectedly adept way. "Pretty soon, this monster will be yours again." She was lying there, too. Brad’s wasn’t this big, and they both knew it.

And this gave her a strange sense of satisfaction. She suddenly understood why boys measured themselves and bragged. And she liked being better hung than her boyfriend. She had a momentary pang that Stephanie wasn’t there to admire her as well. Maybe later, she could…

No, she had to keep her head straight. They needed to get back to their rightful sex and bodies.

But not right now. There was something she just had to do first.

She went straight to the main event, for some reason feeling that the foreplay she usually enjoyed was something of a waste of time. And unlike Brad’s first time, she seemed to know exactly what she was doing.

Which Brad immediately found out. His female virginity had lasted all of 15 minutes.

Courtney walked into her house, still shaken from her experience at the mall. Even more disturbing, she’d had to consciously think about where she lived and how to get home. Weird, but she put it down to emotional distress.

She found her mother and brother eating pizza at the kitchen table, seemingly quite normal at first glance, but she stopped in surprise, her distress evaporating at the comical sight she found when she looked a bit closer. Her brother had gotten his hair curled and highlighted, and now sported earring studs that showed he’d had both ears pierced in three different spots. Instead of his usual sweats or jeans, he wore tight shorts and a new T-shirt, both in pastel.

Her mother, on the other hand, wore an old sweat shirt, jeans and the dirty sneakers she usually reserved for gardening. Her hair hadn’t been brushed since that morning, and she had no trace of makeup. She made sympathetic grunts to Jason’s complaints. Both still spoke in their altered voices.

"Look, honey," their mother reassured him. "People can get really nasty when you try some new looks. You should have heard some of the snide remarks at work just because I decided not to dress like some bimbo fashion model.." She burped loudly. "Well, I say fuck ‘em. Besides, you look very cute, dear."

She patted his arm. The comment, which should have sent any self-respecting teenaged boy into berserker mode, was received with a smile and a blush. The smile faded when he spotted Courtney. Strange things seemed to happen to him when she was around now.

As they did now. Courtney couldn’t resist adding yet another touch to her increasingly feminized brother. Two small swellings formed beneath his shirt, and he would be shocked later that night to discover small but undeniably feminine breasts, each topped with a large areola and big, sensitive nipple.

Her mother would be a bit distressed to find that her boobs had apparently shrunk during the day, and even more concerned by the sudden appearance of her small, underdeveloped nipples. Courtney giggled at the thought of their catching sight of each other – maybe she could arrange it. For now, her mother simply turned to greet her.

"Hi, honey. Grab some pizza. I didn’t feel like cooking."

Courtney nodded and picked up a slice. "Any more beer?" she asked, nodding at her mother’s bottle.

Her mother was shocked.

"Courtney! Since when are you drinking beer, young lady?"

"I…" Courtney hesitated. She could clearly remember drinking beer – the taste, the feel. It seemed completely natural to her. But she was also only 16 years old. Her mother would never have allowed it. So where did the memories come from?

Her thoughts were interrupted by her mother’s sharp voice.

"I asked you a question, Courtney."

Anger flared. Courtney didn’t have to put up with this stuff. And she wanted that beer. She concentrated silently.

"ALL knowledge of alcohol propriety, restrictions, and health," she thought, feeling the medallion warm against her. Her mother’s face blanked for a second.

"I always drink beer. What’s the big deal?" Courtney asked coolly.

Her mother opened and closed her mouth a few times in confusion. There was something wrong but she couldn’t tell what.

"I…I…" she floundered. Why HAD she thought it was a big deal? "I don’t know," she finally admitted. "Just seemed strange for a second. They’re in the fridge, dear. Try one of these special porters I got. They pack quite a punch."

"Thanks, Mom," Courtney smiled at her victory. Life was going to be very different around their house.

Jason opened his mouth in shock.

"Hey! How come…" He froze and cut the protest off as Courtney turned and locked eyes with him meaningfully. He almost seemed to shrink into his seat.

As indeed he did. He didn’t know it yet, but he was now the shortest person in the room.

Courtney opened the beer and took a long drink in satisfaction. Jason seemed to have learned his lesson. That was good, though she might have enjoyed teaching him a few more lessons first. She shrank his cock an inch just to be mean (her clit swelling in reaction), then sat to join them.

"Did you get some new makeup or something?" her mother asked. "You look different."

Uh oh, Courtney thought.

Her mother suddenly brightened, thinking she had found the answer. "Of course! You got your hair colored. It looks wonderful, dear. So full and beautiful highlights."

"Um, yeah," Courtney lied, realizing she was lucky her mother hadn’t noticed even more the extent of her changes. It was hard to go completely unnoticed when you added a few years, inches, and a new hair color. "I took….I mean, I copied it from Patty at school."

"Looks good," Jason mumbled jealously. He had decided today that he desperately wanted to grow his out, though why he wasn’t sure.

"Yours too," Courtney giggled, wondering what his friends had thought when Jason had spent the day mincing along with his new hair, voice and clothes. He’d need years to live it down, even if she didn’t make it worse.

Which she would.

For now, she just teased him a bit by playing with his body shape and transferring a little extra muscle mass to their mother. Jason would find that his body was as weak as a little girl’s before the evening was through. She turned to her mom.

"Where’s Dad?" she asked, grabbing another slice of pizza.

Her mother stiffened.

"I very much hope he’s in Springfield where he belongs," she answered in clipped tones.

"He’s not coming home?" Courtney persisted.

Her mother was perplexed and exasperated.

"He IS home. What’s the matter with you? Two years since the divorce, and you’re suddenly confused? I hope he and his trollop are very happy together, but I would be very pleased never to see either of them here in my house."

"Oh, sorry." Courtney was confused. Now that her mother had said it, she remembered the separation and divorce. Yet a second ago, she had recalled equally clear memories of…somebody. How could her family identity have gotten so messed up?

Dinner finished without further incident. Afterwards, her mother reminded Courtney to take out the garbage.

"Jason’s doing it for me this week," she smiled.

"Hey, no…" Jason started to protest, but shut up as soon as Courtney turned glinting eyes upon him. "Oh, yeah," he mumbled.

"Good boy," she whispered, patting him on a suddenly rounder rear.

Courtney enjoyed watching him struggle with the garbage bags and can, his depleted muscles straining and barely able to move them. She almost took pity about restoring a bit of his size and strength to make the job easier.

Almost.

Instead, she sat down with her mother to watch TV. She automatically turned on the music video channel.

"Uh uh," her mother corrected. "We’re watching the news."

"But, Mom…"

"It will do you good to keep up with current affairs. A little knowledge never hurts."

Courtney sat glumly as her mother switched the channel. A little knowledge! Yeah, like she needed…

An idea took form, and she smiled wickedly. Slowly, she began to drain IQ points from her mother.

Her mother’s face began to change, from rapt but relaxed attention, to more obvious concentration to try to keep up with the story, to increasing confusion and frustration as more and more words began to elude her. Courtney decided to tease her as a chart involving the consumer price index came up.

"Hey, Mom, what’s inflationary pressure?"

Her mother frowned as her mind continued to empty, her understanding of a subject snatched away the moment she accessed it.

"Um…it’s like, you know…you blow something up, and, you know, it’s under pressure…and…um, tight like."

This was cool. Jason re-entered the room.

"Hey, Mom, what’s Jason’s birthday again?"

Zip. Her mother blushed.

"Courtney, you know when your brother’s birthday is."

Yeah, Courtney thought, but you don’t. She was enjoying all the extra knowledge and intelligence she’d gained. It made her superiority over everyone around her that much more obvious.

"Hey, Jason. What’s your computer password?"

Zip. He frowned.

"Yeah, like I’d tell you," he covered, feeling a panic at his sudden blank.

Don’t need to, she smiled. This was cool. "Hey, Mom, what’s your middle name? I can’t remember."

Zip. Her mother tried to cover with anger.

"Courtney, stop annoying us with these stupid questions."

Courtney decided to try the reverse. "It’s Herbert, isn’t it, Mom?"

Zip. Her mother’s brow furrowed. Herbert was absolutely ridic…True.

"Um, yes. I guess."

"That’s a weird name? How’d you get it?"

"I…I…"

"I guess your dad always wanted a boy, and that was his payback, huh?"

Zip. "Yes, I remember now. That was mean of him." Her mind felt strange. She was having trouble with conversation. She tried to turn back and concentrate on the news, while Courtney continued a slow drain.

To her credit, she lasted another 20 IQ points. Finally, she couldn’t stand listening to the almost meaningless blather.

"Um, Courtney. This is being all like stupid and stuff tonight. Turn on that other stuff. You know, those music thingies." She was having trouble even finding the right words to speak now. Strange. She’d never known the news to be quite so brain-numbing.

Courtney smiled in triumph and changed channels, allowing her mother’s drained brain to recover slightly, though to be honest, she seemed to appreciate the music videos just fine in her depleted condition (no further author’s comment necessary).

However, a small flare-up recurred when Christina Javelin’s new video came on. As usual, the teen idol was dressed in a barely-there skirt and navel-exposing crop top. Jason was obviously enthralled, but their mother was scandalized.

"Look how she’s dressed! And so young. Honestly, it’s sex, sex, sex. These girls are parading around…"

Blah, blah, blah, thought Courtney. Maybe she needed to understand the appeal a bit better. Like Jason did. She smirked as she noticed the obvious sign of approval tenting his shorts. That was the problem with tight clothes – they don’t hide anything. Certain that he would be uncomfortable about their noticing, she shrank his cock another inch to make it less obvious, then smirked again as the bulge reduced. Less to show off, but still apparent. Well, she could take care of it another way, and teach her mother a lesson at the same time.

"And it’s not even sexy," her mother persisted. "It’s just…just…" Her words trailed off as her eyes fixed on the screen in a new appreciation. Christina was actually pretty sexy after all. If you were into girls, of course, which she wasn’t, she hastened to reassure herself. No, certainly not. But there was nothing wrong with just being open-minded and trying to understand the attraction the boys obviously felt. It didn’t mean she wanted to…to…

She shook the new and disturbing thoughts from her head and tried to be objective. Yes, Christina was quite attractive. There, very clinical and dry. She was pretty. And sexy. Yes, very sexy. OK, not a big deal. Just objective appreciation. She just needed to analyze this. Sexy eyes, beautiful face. A woman could notice those things without it meaning anything. And she had a great body: those smooth legs and pert breasts – no wonder she wanted to show them off. It was perfectly all right to watch and enjoy her – nothing untoward in that. She relaxed and tried to enjoy the video.

Unfortunately, she soon found herself staring with less detached interest, dry-mouthed, watching the dancer’s hips swing, framed by the smooth, bare skin above and below the micro-skirt, those sexy legs exposed almost to the moist treasure between…

She snapped alert, realizing her hands had strayed to touch her own breasts and legs. Oh my God! She couldn’t deny it any more – she was getting turned on by a teenage girl! She felt her wet arousal in acute embarrassment.

Courtney watched her mother squirm. She tried to heighten her libido by transferring the rest of Jason’s normal teenage male horniness into their mother, more than doubling her sexual appetite but also twisting it to new desires as she lost her normal feelings and orientation back to him. Jason abruptly lost interest in the video as the transfer completed, and as his once proud member shriveled completely, their mother gasped. With flushed cheeks and quickened breath, she stood shakily.

"Um, I’m going to my room. To…relax," she announced hastily, walking in what she hoped was a casual manner from the room. Her mind flashed guiltily to the stash of magazines Jason thought he had hidden. Maybe he wouldn’t miss one or two for the night.

As indeed he wouldn’t now. He did, however, seem more interested than usual when the new Rocky Martinez video came on.

After a while, Courtney felt like being alone.

"Hey, Jason, why don’t you go to bed?"

"Are you crazy?" he demanded. "It’s only…um, OK. Goodnight."

He was learning fast, Courtney decided. That would make life around here easier. She settled back onto the couch and used the number she’d pulled from her mother’s mind to access the pay channels. She selected an adult movie that wouldn’t have ordinarily interested her, but now seemed strangely compelling. Her changing tastes tugged slightly at her consciousness, but were soon forgotten as the movie got right into the heavy action.

She was enjoying the movie and lost track of time, until her mother reappeared, musky-scented with disarrayed hair, and wearing nothing but a robe. Courtney briefly looked up and smiled at her mom’s embarrassed expression.

"Feeling better?"

Her mother blushed. "Um, yeah. I was, um, exercising."

Courtney snickered, drawing a deeper blush. Her mother decided to counterattack when she spotted the screen.

"Courtney, how did you turn that channel on? You know you’re not supposed to watch…"

Courtney sighed. She was getting tired of her mother’s continued attempts at rules and authority. OK, if she was going to be a prude about sex…

She concentrated on removing all of her mother’s inhibitions and restrictions about sex, routing them to her sleeping brother instead. Once more, her mother’s face blanked. Then, she grew a big smile and plopped down onto the couch next to Courtney, her robe falling open to reveal she wore nothing underneath. She made no attempt to cover herself, instead nodding at the topless woman on screen.

"Nice tits," she commented lasciviously.

Courtney agreed. She noticed her mother’s own breasts were noticeably smaller and topped by undeveloped pink nipples thanks to her earlier transfer. She wondered how much that might have affected her masturbation.

Her mother scooted closer on the couch, her robe opening completely, and touched Courtney’s leg.

"How about getting us a couple of beers, and we’ll watch together?"

Whoa. The pressure on her leg told Courtney that her mother had more on her mind than watching. Perhaps she’d removed a few inhibitions too many. As she jumped to get the beers, she silently transferred some back.

She was relieved to find that her mother had closed her robe and moved back to the other end of the couch when she got back. They both opened a beer and watched the movie, while Courtney wondered if she’d swung too far back the other way. She didn’t want to have put up with a prude again.

"God, her ass is even better than her tits," her mother commented when the heroine decided for no particular reason to take a shower. "I wouldn’t know where to start licking first."

Courtney snorted into her beer. She obviously hadn’t transferred too many inhibitions back after all. Perfect. It didn’t bother her that she’d turned her mother into a rather slow-witted, lesbian slut.

In fact, it made for a nice change.

At midnight, they saw an ad for the "special adult" feature about to begin, with actual hard-core action. Her mother’s eyes lit up.

"Ooh, order that, Courtney. I, um, can’t quite remember how."

Courtney did so, and then was surprised when her mother settled back with a smile and added.

"And you’d better get to bed."

"No way. I’m watching too."

Her mother clearly wanted to be alone, her hand already itching to move beneath her robe. "Don’t be ridiculous. It’s past your bedtime."

Courtney fumed. Bedtime? Imagine the absurdity of someone with her power having a bedtime. Her mother noticed the smoldering.

"I’m sorry, dear, but we’ve talked about this. Kids need more sleep than adults. You’re still just a girl, and…"

She lectured on, not noticing as her body slimmed, then shrank, the robe’s sleeves falling over her hands. It became too big and baggy to stay closed, and the front sagged open to reveal the pert, small – and still shrinking – breasts of early adolescence. Her bare feet were already off the floor, and began to pull inexorably beneath the robe’s hem.

"…and when you’re my age, you’ll understand…" she continued, her voice riding up scale to a thin, high soprano as she left her teen years behind. She frowned and cleared her throat, puzzled at her voice and the reason Courtney suddenly seemed so much bigger and intimidating.

Courtney smiled as her mother shrank into her robe, now an innocent-faced 6 year old, still trying to look serious and authoritative as she lectured her daughter. Courtney smirked as she continued to transfer years to her sleeping brother upstairs. Her mother’s expression began to change as the beer she had drunk began to have an increasingly potent effect on her much smaller body. Instead of stern, she became relaxed and giggly, especially when she began to slur her words and lost her train of thought.

"Isht jusht that, um…sleepy time…ish late…and, um, me wanna play wif my…you know…um…"

Courtney decided to magnify the effect by transferring some of her own alcohol to her mother. As her thoughts became more confused, the tiny girl paused, suddenly realizing the way her hands and arms were lost inside her sleeves. She held them up and blinked.

"Thash funny," she smiled, then giggled drunkenly, flipping her empty sleeves. "Look, me a birdie." She giggled again, then slumped against the side of the couch, smiling happily.

Courtney crossed her legs, completely in control.

"Mind if I watch now?"

The young girl blinked slowly.

"Shurrrr. Whynot." She replied pleasantly. "Ish a pajammamama party." Another fit of giggles. "If I wusz wearin’ pajamamamas." She flipped open her nearly useless robe. "My boobies are gone. Thash weird." She looked around on the couch as though to retrieve the errant appendages. Finally, she gave up and rubbed her tiny pink nipples. "Me like boobies. Big boobies. Me wanna see big boobies."

The comment from a near toddler was comical, and Courtney laughed as she saw her mother trying to stimulate her flat chest, too confused in her alcoholic haze to realize what was wrong. She finally turned her attention back to the screen, which now displayed two nubile beauties, including one with exactly the attributes she had just indicated a preference for. Courtney was surprised some minutes later to see her still rubbing herself lazily in another area, though her body no longer sent the same signals of urgency.

"Mom, you shouldn’t be doing that."

"Why not?" she demanded. "It’s jusht us kids."

"Speak for yourself," Courtney retorted quietly.

When her mother continued to babble and play with herself, Courtney finally sucked off another few years. The toddler that resulted almost immediately fell asleep, a victim of the late hour and an adult’s drink capacity.

"At last," Courtney sighed in relief. She picked up her mother’s now tiny body and carried her to bed. As she passed her brother’s room, she peaked in to see a snoring, middle-aged man with grey hair and a pronounced paunch that stretched and lifted the undershirt he’d worn to bed. The front was also distorted by two obvious swellings in the front – evidently the breasts she’d given his teenaged body earlier in the evening had grown considerably as he aged, making him a rather bizarre figure indeed.

She’d have to remember to reverse the transfer before she went to bed, or they’d both be shocked when they woke up. Of course, the look on her matronly brother’s face, or the picture of her 2 year old mother trying to dress for work almost made that worthwhile. She’d have to get some pictures before changing them back.

The thought warmed her as she put her mother to bed. Yes, an artist needed to record her works. She’d have to start an album. That new digital camera would be very handy, especially for the more bizarre transformations she began to imagine.

"It didn’t work," Brad complained unhappily, feeling a bit sore. He was also miserable as he felt various fluids leaking and slowly running along his thighs and ass. He felt even worse at the thought of what was still inside him.

Amy didn’t answer, but lay back and smiled happily.

"Depends on what you were expecting to happen," she thought to herself, perfectly satisfied for the moment. Out loud, she just "Mmmm"ed.

"It didn’t work," Brad repeated more angrily. "Nothing happened."

Actually, that wasn’t strictly true. If he’d paid close enough attention, he would have noticed that he’d become a few inches shorter, but had even bigger breasts and butt, giving him an exaggerated hourglass figure. His voice was higher and more feminine, and his body virtually devoid of hair except on the head and pelvis. Amy, meanwhile, had added height and even larger, more defined muscles, and seemed to have developed a two day growth of beard.

"Look at me!" Brad insisted, when Amy again made quiet, happy noises. He hefted his breasts and inadvertently accentuated the large, stiff nipples. "I’ve still got fucking boobs."

"Mmm, fucking boobs," Amy imagined happily. Her cock twitched and began to rise yet again.

Brad noticed in horror.

"Are you crazy? How can you even think about sex again? It’s…it’s…" Hr trailed off as he watched Amy’s monster harden. Was it even bigger than before? And if so, why did he feel a sudden need to find out first hand?

Amy’s mind had already switched back to its default mode, which was as sex-obsessed as any teenaged boy’s. She was almost instantly ready for more, a recovery even better than Brad at his best. She felt another surge of pride at the thought. God, she was a stud! She could get used to this real fast. Wait until Stephanie…

Her thoughts wandered happily, while Brad complained, lectured and argued. Too bad he couldn’t put his mouth to better use.

An idea sprang to mind. She sat up and grabbed Brad’s hands.

"Of course! It happened when you licked and sucked me off. That’s how it woks! Oral sex!" She lay back, her cock jutting proudly and lewdly. "You’ll have to do it again."

Brad was disgusted.

"No way!" He tried to cross his arms, but his bountiful breasts made it difficult.

Amy wasn’t giving up so easily.

"That has to be it. Think about it. You want to get back to normal, don’t you?"

He weakened. "Do you really think it will work?"

"Of course," she lied. Frankly, she was beginning to imagine life quite happily if they couldn’t switch back, but either way, she got a blow job out of it. She sighed as Brad reluctantly went to work.

"Take it easy, baby," she cooed, when he hurried his motions, seemingly eager to get it over with. "Let’s enjoy this."

And she did.

Melanie finished cleaning up after dinner. Things just kept getting weirder and weirder. When her father had arrived home, she’d rushed to greet him, feeling a strange impulse that left her breathless and…excited. She’d actually been turned on at his appearance. She had also nearly kissed him full on the lips before she realized what she was doing and managed a more demure greeting. He had been equally surprised, both at her greeting and appearance (she’d put on some of her mother’s clothes, feeling they were more appropriate and prim than her usual outfits), but even more when he found out Diana was out for the evening.

"Out with the girls?" he’d asked. "Why, she hasn’t wanted to do that for years. I wonder what’s up?"

Melanie had done her best to reassure him, feeling a powerful need to keep the family together and happy. Unfortunately, more than once, she’d caught herself calling her father by his first name. He smiled at her discomposure.

"It’s all right, honey. Looks like you’re the lady of the house now."

And she was.

At least dinner had been a success again. Cooking seemed second nature to her now. Her father also commented that seeing her work so effortlessly behind the counter made her look much more mature.

Of course, since she was now a 20 something year old woman, that also wasn’t surprising.

When her brother seemed to be staring at her figure with a puzzled expression, she wrapped her ankle-length skirt and long-sleeved shirt a bit tighter. It was so important to keep well covered and decent. It made her that much more worried about her mother.

Diana sat brazenly at the bar, her skirt nearly at the top of her thighs, and only her crossed legs preventing people from seeing her panties. It felt wonderful to have so many eyes staring – she’d never felt so free and uninhibited. She clearly eclipsed her girlfriends, and liked that feeling as well. She was the center of attention and numerous fantasies, and felt like a goddess as she drank it in.

On the other hand, the goddess was getting tired of demands for ID.

"I can’t believe this!" she complained. "They card me at the door, they card me inside. Now this jerk," she indicated the distant bartender, "not only cards me but accuses me of faking it. Stupid shit!"

"Hey, Diana," Gloria soothed. "You do look a lot different dressed like this. A lot…younger." She was going to add a comment about Diana’s new and decidedly slutty appearance and behavior, but decided against it.

"Hey, check him out," Caitlin indicated a handsome, broad-shouldered young twenties guy talking with a couple of friends.

"Ooh, nice," Gloria agreed.

Diana felt a pang of conscience as she sized him up. Did she really want to jeopardize her marriage like this? Why was she suddenly so unconcerned about her husband and family? She decided it might be better to turn down her aggression, but didn’t want to lose her chances entirely. If they were really interested, it would be a shame to miss out.

"Maybe we can get their attention," she said, thinking it a compromise. That would let fate decide. Unfortunately, she also unconsciously hoped to tip the scales and wished her breasts were a bit larger to draw their eyes.

And with that, they swelled a full cup size, stretching her shirt provocatively, the nipples tightly outlined. Gloria, on the other hand – also checking her appearance in preparation – realized her new bra had failed to work the wonders it had promised. If anything, it made her look almost flat.

"Forget that waiting stuff," Caitlin snorted. "When I’m interested, I just go up and make my move. If it hurts his macho feelings, tough shit. That stud is mine, girls." She started to get up.

"God, I wish I had your confidence," Diana sighed.

Caitlin stopped in mid rise, then sat back slowly, looking a bit confused and uncertain.

"Umm, maybe we should wait," she agreed. "He might be meeting someone or something. I wouldn’t want to make him uncomfortable."

Diana’s eyes glowed fiercely.

"Fuck that. If you don’t want him, he’s mine." She hopped off her seat and fluffed her hair. Unknowingly, it changed a shade as she happened to admire another woman’s across the room.

"Um, Diana," Gloria interjected. "Aren’t you married?"

Diana rolled her eyes. Her chest swelled another inch as she unconsciously enhanced her appearance.

"Please. Like I’d let that interfere." In fact, to an uninhibited, irresponsible, and now super-confident teenager, the very thought of being bound in a traditional marriage made her gag. There would be time enough to remedy that mistake later. Right now, she had more pressing needs. "You gotta try all the flavors, girls. See you at work tomorrow. Maybe."

Gloria and Caitlin exchanged shocked glances, their discomfort exaggerated by new feelings of insecurity. Caitlin wondered why she suddenly felt so nervous, shy and uncomfortable, and Gloria was put off by what seemed to be her almost complete lack of cleavage. Her carefully chosen shirt looked awful on her almost boy-flat chest, gaping and loose. It had to be that exercise regimen. But why the hell did she have to lose all her weight there?

Diana waved goodbye idly as she left her friends behind.

"I just hope he’s got a huge, thick cock," she thought hungrily to herself.

And now he did, a very pleasant surprise waiting in store for them both. On the other hand, the woman about to end up with his neighbor was in for a rather unhappy discovery, as were the other men within range. There were going to be many embarrassed and puzzled protests to wives and girlfriends tonight.

"Are…you…sure…this…will…work?" Brad breathed explosively, grunting between syllables as Amy slammed into him from behind with increasing force and frequency.

"Of course, baby," she gasped, thrusting lustily and thoroughly enjoying his tightness from this direction. "This has to be it. From behind. Reverse. Behind. Get it?"

He got it. Twice.

Courtney had fallen asleep on the couch, and now dreamed. She was trying on some expensive clothes to show off her new figure. Someone tugged at her sleeve asking for help. She turned angrily, somehow recognizing the very petite but large-breasted young girl at her side. The girl held a crying baby in her arms.

"Go away, Jason," she ordered. "Or I’ll make you even smaller."

"But she won’t stop crying," the girl whimpered, holding the baby out.

[TheoW]

Courtney took the baby, who immediately bawled desperately. However, a second after, there was silence. Jason looked in obvious fright at the infant, chest moving even more dramatically, but with no sound issuing.

Not surprising since it no longer had a mouth.

"That’ll keep her quiet. Now, get out of here."

The terrified girl turned to leave, but was frozen at a command.

"Wait." Courtney held out the frantic but voiceless baby. "And take Mom with you."

Alone, she adjusted her clothes and looked in the mirror. God, she was gorgeous. Almost perfect. Yet there was something wrong. She squinted and looked again. Her face looked…well, it was hard to say. Different. She couldn’t quite recognize the face in the mirror. Her eye color…what was it supposed to be? A vague panic took hold. Had she changed her eyes? How much of her mouth was actually hers? Her eyes seemed to flash different colors, then became impossible to read. Her features softened and lost focus, as though seen through a gauze. She tried to put things right, drawing on the medallion’s power, but instead of the familiar warm tingle, she felt a scorching heat that burned her skin and made her cry out.

Suddenly, she couldn’t remember what her face was supposed to look like at all. To her horror, the reflection’s face immediately began to fade entirely, replaced by a blank, featureless blur. She concentrated, with some shifting bits of mouth, nose and eyes coming and going but refusing to stabilize. She looked away, unable to face the monstrosity, and tried to scream. In a moment of heart-seizing terror, she realized that as with the baby, she had no mouth. Her silent shriek split her skull. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see. She clawed violently at the soft paste that had become her face.

And woke up screaming on the couch. Frantically, she felt her face, gradually reassured as her fingers told her it had been only a nightmare. With a sobbing sigh, and still shaking physically, she got up to go to bed. As she reached the bedrooms, she remembered the changes she had left in her mother and brother. Feeling ashamed for the first time that evening, she reversed some of them, but her disturbed and tired mind couldn’t quite remember everything she’d done. Half satisfied, she went to bed, deciding she could do better in the morning.

It was 3 AM when Melanie woke up to hear her parents arguing. She couldn’t make most of it out, but caught words like "too old," "mistake," and "freedom." She also, unfortunately, heard a biting comment from her mother about "a real cock," followed by a last exchange of shouts, a slammed door, and angry footsteps down the stairs.

She waited a bit, then crept down after them. She found her mother on the couch, beer in hand, watching the TV. In the flickering near-dark, she couldn’t read her face. Her figure looked odd – the girl slimness of the afternoon replaced by a strikingly sexy profile. Her breasts seemed much larger than before, almost cartoonish. She looked up as Melanie appeared.

"What do you want?"

"Uh, Mom? Are you all right?"

"Sure. Great. Leave me alone."

"It’s just that your father…I mean, Dad and I were worried about you, and…"

"Worried? Ha! You should have heard how ‘worried’ he was. Well, fuck him. No, forget that. That’s probably what he wants. Shit." She took a drink.

"What happened?"

A long drink before answering.

"He started whining about how late it was, and, like, where was I, and what was I doing. As if he really wanted to know! He just wants me for free sex and to do all the work around here, like I’m his property. Well, fuck that! I’ve had it with him and the whole, stupid wifey bit. I am out of here tomorrow."

She turned challengingly to face Melanie with the last statement, and the half-light of the TV finally illuminated her face. Melanie almost gasped again at seeing how young her mother looked. A girl, not a woman, despite the outlandish breasts. The light also glinted off the medallion she wore. Melanie’s medallion.

It was as though the light flashed straight to her brain. Melanie remembered that all the strange events of the last couple of days had occurred after she and Courtney had bought those. Could they somehow be involved? She had visions of hidden drugs and mind control electronics flash through her mind.

"Uh, Mom, could I see that medallion you’re wearing?"

An angry suspicious look.

"Why?"

"I don’t know. I did buy it. I’m curious about something."

Her mother clutched it tightly.

"No. You didn’t wear it, and I really like it. It’s mine now. If you want, I’ll pay you back. How much do you want?"

Melanie’s suspicions flared, but facing the obvious hostility, she backed off.

"Never mind. No big deal. Just noticed it is all." A slight relaxation of her mother’s grip. "You going to bed?"

"Ha! Not with HIM. I’ll sleep down here."

"You can use my room."

A slight perk up.

"Really? You wouldn’t mind? Thanks, that would be so cool. I wanted to borrow some more of your clothes in the morning anyway."

"Um, sure. But, Mom?" Uncertain pause. "Wear a bra tomorrow, OK?"

It was fortunate the Courtney had reversed her family’s age changes before going to bed, since she didn’t wake up again until she heard a surprised exclamation. She went into the hall to find her mother, naked except for a towel, fumbling in the linen closet.

"What’s up, Mom?"

A surprised jump, followed by a deep blush.

"Oh, nothing. A little, um, accident. I just need to get some clean sheets."

Courtney laughed silently at her mother’s discomfort. Already, her dream was almost forgotten in the pleasure of once more playing with people and watching their embarrassment.

"What’s the matter, Mom, you wet the bed or something?"

An even deeper blush. Courtney realized she’d hit it square on. No doubt a side effect of the regression and beer. Cool. Too bad she couldn’t give her the problem all the time.

A slight tingle. Suddenly, her mother’s eyes went wide. With a surprised cry, she leapt for the bathroom, but couldn’t quite reach it before the stream started. Courtney could barely contain her laughter at the sight.

Jason opened his door, small breasts and swollen nipples obvious through his thin T-shirt.

"What’s up with Mom?"

"Nothing," Courtney lied. "Female trouble."

"Oh." He quickly withdrew, as though it might be contagious.

Which, with Courtney around, it was.

"Careful, big brother," Courtney thought maliciously. "You may be finding out first hand about that soon."

To reinforce the thought, she shrank his cock another inch and enlarged her mother’s clit, producing another sound of surprise from the bathroom. Another thought, and the surprise gave way to a sigh of pleasure, followed by the sound of the door locking. Courtney wondered how her mother would deal with her increased and reoriented libido today, and what she thought was happening with her shrinking breasts and enlarging clit. At the moment, based on a low moan, it didn’t appear to bother her at all, but how would she react to another inch every day, until she was sporting an actual cock above her pussy?

The image was so engaging, Courtney had to actively suppress it before it became reality. This was getting so easy, she barely needed to think about the changes any more. Come to think of it, she wasn’t even sure she HAD thought of that. It was almost as though the idea had been whispered to her instead. Oh well, it seemed cool enough now that it was started. She couldn't wait to see Jason’s face after his shower the next few days.

For now, she needed to get ready for another school day. She had unfinished work to do.

"Now what?" Brad demanded wearily. He kicked at Amy, angry and frustrated that after about their eighth time, she had fallen into a light, contented slumber.

"Huh?" she startled awake. "What? Are you ready for more already?"

"No!" he shouted. "Haven’t you been listening to me?"

For the first time in her life, Amy wondered why girls wanted to talk so much. She lay back with an exasperated sigh.

"I was asleep. What were you talking about?"

"About this. These!" Brad shot back, pointing at his sticky, well-used sex and huge breasts. It was now obvious that Brad had transformed into a caricature of femininity. Disproportionately large breasts and hips dominated an otherwise tiny frame – Amy had to be at least a foot taller than him now. There seemed very little of Brad left in the soft, rounded body, the arms almost devoid of muscle, and his face transformed by small delicate features and lush, pouting lips.

Amy, of course, was now an over six foot slab of male hardness and sharp angles. She was more heavily muscled than Brad had ever been, as though all the muscle mass between them had somehow migrated to her. Her rough, handsome face echoed her own, but with much larger chin, nose and ears, and almost unrecognizable beneath a developing full beard and mustache which seemed days old rather than hours. In fact, her whole body was extensively covered with hair, something which should have disgusted her, but actually left her feeling rather proud. Almost as proud as the thick, 9 inch cock that dominated her lower body.

Brad turned to better face her, his large breasts jiggling as he shifted position. He grabbed them in frustration. "God these are heavy," he complained, not realizing he had far less back strength than even normally endowed girls at the moment. He caught Amy staring at them and tried to cover up. "So what are we going to do?" he demanded again, trying to change her thoughts.

"I don’t know," she admitted, feeling her cock firm up yet again. "We could always…"

"No! Uh uh. No way," Brad cut her off. "I let you try just about everything all night and look what it got me."

"Yeah," Amy agreed dreamily.

"Shut up!" Brad insisted, but feeling his eyes drawn to her rising member. "Is that all you ever think about?"

"Come on, baby," she crooned in her ever-deepening bass voice. "You enjoyed it too."

The worst part for Brad was that he had. A lot. Instead of being revolted by Amy’s thick cock inside him, he had loved it. He remembered some of the things he had said – and screamed – with acute embarrassment. OK, that was over. He was a boy. He had to remember that. He did not want some thick, hard…

Oh God! Look how big and hard it was. His huge breasts began to heave. Maybe this time…

The conversation quickly disintegrated. Oh well, nine was supposed to be a lucky number.

Melanie crept into her own room so as not to disturb the sleeping figure within. She had gotten her father, angry and sullen, and her somewhat confused brother off without major incident or question, and now had the house alone with her mother as planned.

She was sprawled on the bed, her short skirt now revealing a complete lack of underwear. Melanie was afraid to think what had happened to it, and averted her eyes, especially after seeing how matted and sticky the pubic hair looked. She saw that Diana had somehow managed to change her hair color during the night, but what was even more strange was that it seemed longer, fuller, even wavy. Whoever had done it had done a wonderful job – it looked completely natural. She stopped and gaped once more at the face it framed. The morning light showed even more dramatically the glowing, innocent face of a teenage girl.

OK, this was impossible. It had to be a trick of the light and a previously unnoticed improvement in her mother’s looks. People just didn’t change like this overnight. A fitness regimen, vitamins and good makeup. That had to be it. In the light of day, her suspicions about the medallion seemed absurd.

Still, it wouldn’t hurt to examine it.

She crept closer, gingerly pulling the medallion from within her mother’s shirt. It felt cold in her hands, almost forbidding, but otherwise its appearance was unremarkable. No hidden messages, warnings, or secret compartments. Just a rather ugly piece of costume jewelry. Melanie shook her head.

"What was I thinking?" she asked herself in a whisper. "Like this could be responsible for Mom’s behavior. Or make her younger. Yeah, I wish."

She felt a slight tingle as she softly set the medallion back, then turned to leave. A soft moan and restless shifting from her mother made her turn back briefly.

And she froze.

Her mother’s skirt was still up, revealing the same view of naked legs and sex, but there was an obvious difference. The legs were slimmer, and the mat of pubic hair that had been painfully obvious was much thinner, barely a sprinkle in a line at the top. She stared in shock. Her mother’s massive breasts looked smaller, and slightly different in shape, stretching the shirt less obscenely. Melanie came close again and examined her more closely. Her face was even more innocent, rounder and softer, clearly a girl and not a woman.

And younger.

Melanie’s heart jumped as realization took hold. "Oh my God!" she breathed softly.

She touched the medallion again. "Younger," she whispered.

Her mother shrank before her eyes, the effect especially dramatic as her breasts all but disappeared, lost in the suddenly loose shirt. A glance below showed her mother was now a preteen.

"Impossible," Melanie told herself, refusing to believe her eyes.

Before she could continue the internal argument, she glanced in her bedroom mirror and jumped. For a second, she thought she saw her old and familiar mother’s face staring straight at her. Then, in amazement, she realized it was her own reflection. She walked up to it and stared.

Her face was her own, but a mature form: a 30-something woman’s with fine lines around her eyes and mouth, and a more defined nose and brow. Her body was heavier, more solid, with thicker thighs and middle that strained her teenage girl’s jeans. Her softer breasts overfilled her bra, and thin, prominent veins stood out on her hands and feet.

"How…?" she asked the astounded reflection.

Of course. She was older. Her mother was younger. A transference. Despite the unbelievable and horrifying realization, she felt some satisfaction at gaining some understanding. Now, could it be reversed?

Once more, she held it between her fingers.

"Older."

Her mother’s figure redeveloped, clothes tightening around rapidly swelling breasts and hips, the face maturing again before her eyes. She watched, fascinated, as her mother re-entered her adult years and became more and more familiar. She almost didn’t notice when her perspective started to change. Only when she saw the top of the bed seemingly getting closer did she look around. The room and her mother began to look larger with each second. She was shrinking!

Or, more precisely, regressing, she realized when she turned again to look in the mirror. Now she was the one with a barely adolescent body, 10-12 at the most. In shock, she stopped the age movement and took stock. She was much younger, yet even now, her mother wasn’t back to normal. Obviously, there weren’t enough years between them to do that. She tried not to think of where the others might be.

Since Melanie had no desire to remain a little girl, she hiked up her slipping jeans and turned once more to the medallion. A minute later, there were two teenaged girls in the room.

"Awesome," she couldn’t help admitting to herself.

Before she could experiment further, her mother’s eyes snapped open. With a wild cry, she jerked the medallion from Melanie’s grasp and scrambled to the far side of the bed.

"What the hell do you think you’re doing?" she demanded fiercely.

Melanie used her best soothing voice.

"Mom, it’s the medallion. I think I’ve figured it out. It’s changed you. It’s…"

"Bullshit!" Diana cut her off. "You were trying to steal it, weren’t you? You ungrateful little bitch! It’s mine, do you hear? Don’t ever touch it again."

"Mom, listen to me. I don’t understand how, but it’s magic. It made you younger and affected your mind. It’s…"

"Stop it! I’m not listening!" Diana screamed, jumping off the bed. "It’s a trick. And it’s really stupid, and you’re stupid for trying to make me believe it. I’ve had it with you all trying to confuse me and control me. I’m out of here."

She started to stalk out, her fury and hostility palpable. Melanie couldn’t see any alternative. She leapt at her mother and grabbed at the medallion.

Her mother shrieked and fought frantically, seeming to have an almost lunatic strength as they struggled. Melanie could barely hold her own despite the element of surprise, and was quickly losing the fight. In desperation, she managed to get her hand on the medallion once more and tried to pull it off.

"Damn, I wish I was stronger," she thought furiously.

The tide shifted. Diana’s blows became lighter and less disabling. Melanie was able to keep her hold on the medallion and soon was able to actually physically restrain her mother.

"Let me go, let me go!" Diana howled, twisting helplessly.

Melanie couldn’t understand how she had gained the upper hand so completely, until she noticed the muscles bulging along her upper arm. She nearly lost her hold on her mother in her surprise, but quickly realized what had happened.

"Mom, listen to me." When the struggling continued, she squeezed hard with her enhanced muscles, driving Diana’s breath out. Melanie chastised herself for the thrill she felt at being so strong and dominating, but didn’t relax her grip. "You might as well listen. I’m not letting go until you do."

Diana finally quieted.

"Mom, do you have any idea what’s been happening to you? Do you know what this medallion can do?"

"What are you talking about? There’s nothing the matter with me. Geez, I have a little fun for once without you losers tagging along, and everybody acts like I’m crazy."

Melanie wrestled her over to a mirror.

"Mom, how old are you?"

"42," Diana admitted reluctantly.

"Look at yourself. Do you look like a 42 year old?"

Their reflection showed two teenage girls. They could almost be twins, except for Diana’s much larger breasts, something she noticed with great pride.

"Hell no. I look great!" Diana proclaimed. "My exercises and diet…"

Melanie couldn’t understand her mother’s stunning lack of perception. Could the medallion somehow cloud the user’s mind?

"Mom, this is NOT from exercise. Watch."

Melanie concentrated. Diana gazed as her face and figure youthened, her proud breasts shrinking as she passed back through adolescence.

"Hey, stop that. Stop it!" the increasingly young girl demanded as her boobs all but disappeared. She was now obviously shorter than Melanie as well, and stared at the reflection of the surprised girl in the loose clothes in disbelief.

"How…?"

"OK, now watch this."

Diana’s figure and height slowly returned. She watched in relief as her shirt filled out.

"Wow."

"Now do you understand?" Melanie watched carefully to see if her mother had accepted the situation. Unconsciously, her eyes also wandered jealously over Diana’s enhanced cleavage. Not surprisingly, she immediately started to feel her bra tighten, even as Diana cried out to see her breasts shrinking again for a different reason. With an effort, Melanie halted (but didn’t reverse) the transfer.

"Sorry, Mom. It just shows how incredibly dangerous this thing is. There’s no telling what it’s capable of." She remembered Courtney’s matching piece. "I’ve gotta warn Courtney and get rid of these things."

"Wait. Let me try something, just to be sure," Diana asked, moving her hand to nudge Melanie’s aside.

"Sure. Just be careful."

"Don’t worry, honey. I know exactly what I’m doing."

Melanie felt a sudden weakness assail her. A second later, she saw her newly bulging arms begin to slim, even as her mother’s began to bulk up.

"Hey!"

"Give it to me!" Diana snarled, suddenly Melanie’s equal in strength again.

They each tried to enhance their power to no avail – there was a constant back and forth ebb as they each invoked the medallion’s power. Trapped in a stalemate, Melanie at last changed tactics.

Diana suddenly felt her strength building. At last Melanie had abandoned the attempt to match her. Her daughter’s pulls and blows weakened quickly, and she knew she’d have sole possession of the medallion within seconds.

"Ha!" she shouted. "I win."

The cry of triumph died, however, as she heard how strange her voice sounded, high and thin and petulant rather than masterful. She suddenly realized that though she was clearly stronger than Melanie, she was much shorter.

And still shrinking quickly. With an exclamation of surprise, she felt her skirt fall to the floor, revealing heavily muscled but still small legs, and almost completely lacking the feminine curves she should have. She also realized in shock that she was clutching the medallion against a completely flat chest.

"Wha…?"

She looked up to see a very adult Melanie looking down at her sternly. Her disorientation allowed her daughter a few extra, precious seconds with the medallion.

"Sorry, Mom, it’s for the best."

Too late, Diana jerked the medallion away with her disproportionate strength, but the movement seemed to overwhelm her now precarious balance. She staggered a bit, her shirt now so large that it tangled her feet, then fell onto her bottom with a plop. When she tried to stand, she found all she could do was roll over and crawl, quickly becoming completely engulfed in the shirt.

A second later, an absolutely huge Melanie, now aged into her 30s, loomed above her. Her adult daughter reached down to triumphantly snatch the medallion from the clumsy – though incredibly strong – baby her mother had become.

"I’ll take that," she announced.

The baby screamed, and the kick at Melanie’s shins actually made her stumble.

"Ouch! Damn it, that hurt. I’ll have my strength back, please," Melanie decided, feeling the medallion warm in her hand.

The baby began babbling incoherently, then stopped, shocked at her jumbled speech.

"Sorry, Mom. I think you’d better stay that way for a while, until I can figure out what to do." She examined her normalizing arms with relief. It was awfully tempting to take a bit more.

And perhaps she did, for there was a wail of tears from the desperately kicking baby.

"OK, that’s it!" Brad insisted. "You are not touching me again." He slapped at the outstretched hand that tried to belie his words. "It’s morning. What are we gonna do? My parents will be back tonight! And how are you gonna go home?"

Amy at last seemed to forget the physical sensations that had come to dominate her thoughts. She actually stopped ogling Brad’s petite but ultra-feminine body, and allowed a small portion of her brain to consider their problem.

"Right. Well, first we get dressed."

"Dressed? What kind of plan is that?"

"A practical one. Personally, I’d love to keep you naked, babe, but it’ll make you more conspicuous when we go out."

"Out? We’re going out?"

Amy sighed. Brad’s mind was as sharp as ever. Good thing he had a killer bod whichever sex he was.

"Yes, Brad, we’re going out. It’s pretty much inevitable anyway, but right now I think it’s our best chance of figuring out what’s happened."

Brad looked around unhappily. "But none of my stuff’s gonna fit," he whined. "Look at me. I can’t be much over 5 feet tall."

It was true. Their last session seemed to have shrunk Brad even more, leaving him very short, but with huge breasts and an ass to die for. He seemed to be having trouble keeping his back straight, and Amy realized he’d lost even more muscle mass and tone. Reflexively, she tested the huge, hard biceps she now sported. Cool. She couldn’t resist patting her unrecognizable boyfriend’s very soft behind.

"You can wear my clothes. They’ll be big…well, except for the bra. God, you’re huge. You must be a DD at least."

An embarrassed Brad again crossed his arms in a vain attempt to hide his breasts.

"Forget it. I’m not wearing girl’s clothes."

"Brad, you’re a girl. Get used to it." She was already trying to squeeze into Brad’s clothes. To her undisguised pleasure, they were a little small.

Brad tried to hold on to a shred of his male dignity.

"I’m not wearing a bra!" he insisted.

Amy shrugged.

"Fine. Bounce away. Give your friends something to stare at."

The thought gave him pause. He decided to change subjects.

"So, we get dressed. Then what?"

"We eat breakfast," she answered practically, then immediately continued as his anger flared. "And we go to school."

"School? Uh uh. No fucking way! I’m not gonna let anyone see me like this."

"We have to, Brad. We have to retrace our steps from yesterday. Something happened along the way to trigger this. We’ve gotta find out what and how, and then reverse it. It’s our only hope of getting back to normal."

Brad was skeptical. Amy’s ideas hadn’t exactly accomplished much so far. (Though, to be honest, their success rather depended on your point of view. Amy, for example, thought the night had been highly satisfactory.)

"And what if it doesn’t work?"

Amy smiled and flexed softball-sized biceps in a dramatic pose, also highlighting her massive chest and thighs.

"Then the school has a new star quarterback."

Courtney had gotten to school early, to watch the students arrive. And have some fun. She was all too eager on her own account, but also felt a sense of near compulsion by the medallion. She listened to conversations (with hearing enhanced to a couple of boys’ detriment) to get ideas.

"Hey, Robbie, you ready for the algebra test?"

"Fucking yes! I studied all night. I know this stuff cold, man."

Well, not anymore. Courtney hoped the appreciation of needlepoint she’d just swapped for his mathematical knowledge would prove some small compensation.

"That girl is such a bitch. And her boobs are totally fake."

Giggles in the group, none of the girls noticing as their own chests deflated. A couple of boys nearby felt a sudden, foreign presence, their eyes going wide as their hands slowly moved up in disbelief.

"Hey, Kelly, what did you do to your hair?"

Kelly felt her surprisingly lank hair, the strand in her hand looking a dull brown, instead of her usual lustrous blond.

One of the soccer captains looked embarrassed as his voice broke, and he found himself speaking in the voice of a 12 year old girl. He’d be even more surprised to find his reflexes and physical strength matched it. A shy, withdrawn girl suddenly found herself sizing up boys as being potentially worthy of her, a superior, confident leer to her face. She strode the hall as though owning it, bumping aside a senior cheerleader, who suddenly felt flustered and embarrassed, her eyes fixed to the floor as she hugged the wall, desperately hoping no one would notice her.

More. She needed more. It needed more. Faces shifted, bodies reformed and thoughts blurred. Courtney twisted and shaped at will, reveling in her power and completely unconcerned about the lives she changed. Paybacks were long finished. It was pure pleasure now.

Two kids she didn’t know caught her eye: a tall, powerfully-built boy with the beginning of a full mustache and beard, dressed in tight athletic clothes, and a short, sexy girl, all hips and bust, looking utterly miserable in oversized jeans and a baggy shirt she hoped would hide her massive breasts. She wore no makeup, and had barely brushed her hair. She hurried in the protective wake of her apparent boyfriend, looking neither left nor right as she hurried past Courtney.

"Morning, Brad," somebody whispered.

The girl froze, turning fearful eyes around her. When she couldn’t locate the speaker, she tried to find her companion again.

And found him chatting earnestly with Stephanie, the cheerleader already giggling and twirling her hair.

With a furious gurgle, the girl ran to stake her claim in more forceful terms, only to find herself being intimidated by the much taller and stronger Stephanie. She only now began to realize that she was quite probably the shortest, weakest person in the school, a fact driven home as Stephanie’s entourage began to ring her in. Only her boyfriend’s reluctant intervention defused the situation, and based on the look the girls fixed on her, it was a temporary reprieve at best.

Courtney laughed as the girl hurried away, clinging to the boy’s arm. She didn’t notice the shadow move across her. A voice addressed her coldly.

"Courtney, we need to talk."

At first, Courtney didn’t recognize the older woman regarding her so severely. Her face was familiar, and she assumed it was someone’s mother, but then the realization hit.

Melanie. And she was wearing her own medallion.

"OK, we’re in the cafeteria. Now what?" Brad complained.

Amy looked around helplessly. She honestly didn’t know how to proceed. The place was nearly empty as classes started, and there was nothing out of the ordinary to suggest how they should proceed. Somehow, she had been hoping to find a sinister supercomputer disguised as a soda machine or an other-worldly, pod-bearing plant that had somehow escaped notice. Instead, the most mysterious item in sight was the morning breakfast meat.

Hmm. Come to think of it, those "breakfast patties" had tasted pretty strange.

"Come on," Brad whined. "What are we gonna do?"

Amy sighed. She bet Stephanie didn’t bitch like this.

There was obviously no way they could attend their classes in their current state. Unfortunately, her mind was also distracted by thinking about her earlier encounter with Stephanie, especially when she remembered what she had looked like while undressed yesterday. Suddenly, the thought gave her an inspiration.

"The locker rooms! Of course! That’s where this started. Let’s go."

Brad gulped. He was about to live every male’s fantasy – he was going into the girls’ locker room. Yet, somehow, this wasn’t quite the way he had envisioned it.

Courtney and Melanie had retreated to an empty office near the gym. Courtney casually wiped knowledge of the room from everyone nearby to assure them of privacy.

"Do I know you, ma’am?" Courtney asked mockingly.

"Lay off it," Melanie shot back. "Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?"

Courtney felt an angry rush.

"Don’t take that tone with me, girlfriend." A sneer. "Even if you are old enough to be my mother. Geez, what were you trying to do? You must be 40."

"I was trying to protect my mother," Melanie replied evenly. "You should see what this thing did to her. Courtney, she…she changed."

"Of course she changed," Courtney answered excitedly. "That’s what these things do. That’s what makes them great! Look at me." She paused, showing off her incredible figure – tall, with toned muscles but a full, feminine shape; gorgeous, highlighted hair with strands of red and gold making it almost shine; and a model-perfect face. "Who wouldn’t want this?"

Melanie stared in spite of herself – Courtney was stunning, flawless: a goddess. She felt a pang of jealousy, then a warmth as she realized she could be the same herself. She could feel the power surge within her, the presence of nearby students and teachers waiting to be shaped. It was all so easy. At the very least she could get rid of those extra pounds she’d added so unexpectedly.

She froze, realization dawning.

"Courtney," she said softly and in disbelief. "You used it on me."

Courtney’s face fell briefly. It was all the confirmation Melanie needed.

"That’s why my weight…and my clothes…oh my God, you even made me SHORTER. Why, Courtney, why?"

Courtney bit her lip but looked defiant. She felt a surprising lack of remorse at her friend’s reproach. Indeed, she felt a surprising lack of anything.

"I didn’t know how it worked then. I gave it back…well, most of it. You can fix it now that you have yours."

"Fix it?" Melanie asked in shock. "By making someone else fat? By making them shorter so I can be tall? Courtney, that’s wrong."

"Wrong?" Courtney flared back. "Wrong? Easy for a tall, thin girl to say. Well, maybe you won’t find it so wrong now that you’re not one. Besides, what’s really wrong is that some people have to live with nothing and some get everything – including an attitude. Life isn’t fair, right? Well, guess what?" She touched her medallion. "This just made it fair."

"But the others…"

"Get to learn what it’s like NOT to be a fashion model or Braniac. It’ll do them good. And it’s not like I take everything from them. Just a little bit here and there. That doesn’t really hurt anyone. And it feels incredible." She hugged herself ecstatically. "Try it."

Melanie looked at her evenly.

"Courtney, we have to undo everything we’ve done. Give everything back. Then destroy these things."

"What?" Courtney hissed. "Are you crazy? No way. I’m just getting started."

"Courtney, it’s wrong."

"Stop saying that! Don’t tell me what’s right and wrong. You think you’re so smart and perfect?" An evil grin. "Well, you’re not."

Melanie felt a strange tugging at her mind. The arguments she had been formulating seemed to slip beyond her grasp. It was getting hard to think clearly, and she realized why in shock.

"No! Courtney, I…uh…"

"Difficult to think of the right words, Melanie?" Courtney mocked. "What a pity. I, on the other hand, am feeling quite eloquent. Magniloquent, in fact." She smirked at Melanie’s expression. "A little difficult for you, dear? Vous a fait comprend cela? Zu schecht. Sorry. I’ll keep it simple for you. Did you know I’d already tapped some of the smartest kids in school? Quite delicious, really. Who knew there were so many words and ideas? Well, certainly not you anymore. Poor thing."

Melanie was having more and more trouble with even simple words.

"Courtney, you…um, me no am…"

"Hmm, pretty convincing there, Mel, but too late. If you want any chance of making it through high school, you’d better find a brain donor. Pick a smart one – it feels even better when they’re smart. Go ahead, try it."

Courtney stood by triumphantly, feeling with her heightened senses through the school. She couldn’t wait to see who Melanie would choose, and looked forward gleefully to watching the transfer. She HAD to see Melanie use the medallion. She wasn’t sure why. Part of it was for her own justification. But the medallion compelled her as well. Melanie had to use the other medallion. She had to. Then everything would be right.

Melanie shook her head slowly, tears in her eyes as she struggled to clear her imprisoning, fogged mind.

"No? NO?" Courtney demanded angrily. "What the hell’s the matter with you? This is our right! Use it!" Another crafty look. "You know, it’s gonna be really hard on you being so stupid. It’s not like you can get by on your looks."

Melanie felt her waist expand and her breasts shrink, leaving her only vestigial, fatty breasts that were completely eclipsed by her protruding stomach. Her face erupted in acne, and her breathing became asthmatic, even as her vision blurred and her hair thinned to limp straggles. She lost several inches in height, and Courtney loomed over her.

"USE IT! Change yourself!"

Melanie still shook her head. Her words were thick behind suddenly crooked teeth.

"Wrong."

Courtney slapped her.

"You stupid, fat bitch. You’re barely intelligent enough to talk, but you’re still all high and holy? Jesus! It must be nice to always be right. I wish I had your uncomprehending moral assurance."

Oops.

In a corner of her mind, Courtney thought she could hear an alien scream. A second later, the enormity of what she had done – of what she had become – slammed home. She stared at her friend in horror, before her head began to spin with images of the last 24 hours, roaring and accusing to assault her. Visions of her mother and brother blurred together with the confused victim before her. She fell to her knees.

"Oh my God," she whispered, closing her eyes as though to block the images, her body shaking. "Oh my God, Melanie, what have I done?"

"Courtney…"

"No, don’t." Courtney held up a hand, still needing time to compose herself. She couldn’t face her friend yet. "Oh, Melanie. I’m so sorry."

"For what?" a freshly invigorated voice asked. "You were right. This is awesome."

Courtney opened her eyes in shock. Melanie was rapidly transforming: her stretched-tight clothes flattening as her fat disappeared, then her shirt pushing out again as her breasts returned, larger and firmer than before. She grew to nearly six feet in height, her body shaping and toning to centerfold perfection, even as it youthened to her true age.

And elsewhere, Ms. Jones pulled at her skirt while teaching American history, concerned over the way it was digging into her. She had to stop writing on the board, her knowledge suddenly seeming to blur and slip away, and she realized in some surprise that she had no idea whatever how to spell Roanoke anymore (not that her students were in any position to correct her on the matter). Her faltering writing line had also drifted down the board, as though she had been losing height while she wrote – as indeed she had. Her breath became labored and tight, and students noticed a sprinkling of gray in her hair. Their young teacher had apparently become a short, pudgy, middle-aged woman overnight. The students themselves fared no better. Caitlin in the first row didn’t notice as her thighs began to spread beneath her, or her shirt deflated. Beth, proud owner of a pair of perfect Cs, thought something was wrong but couldn’t quite place what it was as she slowly became flat chested. She idly readjusted a suddenly loose (and now unnecessary) bra strap while she wondered why the history lesson had abruptly become so difficult to follow. James worked his jaw, his teeth feeling strange and almost out of place, and wondered why he felt so weak.

"Melanie…" Courtney gasped.

"Awesome," Melanie muttered again. "But why stop there?"

She added some more muscle courtesy of the football team’s defensive line, then her hair exploded into a glowing, luxuriant mane. Her skin had cleared and now shone flawlessly.

"Oh no. No." Courtney started to her feet, albeit shakily.

"The possibilities are endless, and so delightful," Melanie said in wonder. "It’s absolutely incredible. And you were right – the smart ones taste better. I’ve already drained a couple of teachers. Poor dears must be having some problems – might even cost them their jobs. Ha! It’s wonderful. But, hell, why stop there? Just a bit off the top from everybody would be nice."

Courtney grabbed her companion’s hand in horror. Melanie immediately spun to glare at her. Courtney saw anger, jealousy, even hatred in her eyes. But not Melanie. Her friend was gone.

And both medallions glowed in triumph.

That familiar warmth now burned Courtney’s skin. Ignoring it, she tried to grab Melanie’s necklace.

"Hands off, bitch, or it’s personal payback time," Melanie snarled. Her hand came around to clasp Courtney’s wrist, hard, cold, and intentionally painful. "I was going to let you off easy since you helped show me the way."

Courtney despaired at the unrecognizable voice and eyes.

"Melanie, listen to me. You were right. I see that now. It changed me. I changed you. Don’t you remember what you said? You were right. I’m sorry."

"Sorry? For what?" Melanie sneered. "That someone else figured this little thing out? Tough shit. There’s another goddess in town. Get used to it."

"Melanie, don’t you understand. They CHANGE you! They’re evil!"

Melanie laughed. "Now who’s the self-righteous bitch? Evil? Get over it. What a little wimp you turned out to be. The power’s in the right hands now."

"No!" Courtney screamed, terrified at the changes now obvious only to her. Had she changed this much already? Could they ever go back? In desperation and disgust, she smashed her own medallion against the table.

To her astonishment, it sprang back intact, despite leaving a dent in the table. Simultaneously, it sent a shuddering pang through her arm that made her scream and release her hold. Melanie laughed.

"Too much for you, Courtney? Give it up then. Better leave these things to the big girls from now on. It takes a special woman to be a goddess. See you around. Maybe."

Melanie turned to leave, and Courtney was bereft. The flash of the cursed artifact around her friend’s neck caught her eye, and in a flash of insight she could never explain, she leapt after Melanie and grabbed her medallion one more time. The shriek and iron grip on her hand were expected. The bone-burning pain that raced through her arm wasn’t, but she held on. Bracing herself, and somehow knowing it was her very life at risk, she used her still throbbing arm to smash both medallions together as hard as she could. There was a flash of light, a stabbing pain through her skull that turned her vision white, and then both girls fell shrieking to the floor.

A shriek also echoed through the girls’ locker room. Brad had been changing into Amy’s gym clothes when a half-dressed girl had turned the corner, taken one look and turned, screaming, to run away. Angry voices of discussion were followed seconds later by a group of determined and obviously incensed, already-dressed girls, shielding the one who had panicked.

"I told you," the undressed girl in back shouted, the other girls staring daggers.

"Brad! You fucking pervert!" Valerie declared angrily, before her expression of fury and outrage changed to shock. A second later, she burst out laughing, as did the girls around her. "Oh my God! Brad, you fucking pervert."

The tone was entirely different, carrying mocking scorn and amused surprise. Brad looked down in horror to see that he was his old self, a boy caught flat out in the girls’ locker room. A boy wearing lingerie.

The horror was replaced by the elation of being back to normal, and only mildly tempered by the incongruous bra and panties he’d borrowed from Amy. He raised a fist in triumph.

"Yes!"

Then, the first camera clicked, followed by several others, and the horror returned.

Amy found herself engulfed by suddenly oversized clothes as she changed in the boys’ locker room. As she struggled to adjust them, she felt the extra flesh jiggling beneath her shirt that she had already accustomed herself to be without. Damn. She wrestled the shirt off desperately to confirm what she already knew. Her breasts bounced most fetchingly while she held up suddenly puny looking arms in sad examination. Completely normal. Her exclamation of disappointment caught the attention of a half-naked boy on the way to the shower.

"Shit! A girl!" he blurted.

His outcry also drew an immediate crowd, but the reaction was otherwise quite different.

A beautiful, mostly-naked girl sneaking into the boys’ locker room?

Thank you, God.

Diana stood up warily, her morning memories a blur. She realized in horror that she was naked except for a tightly stretched diaper.

A wet diaper.

As portions of her fragmented memory came back, she collapsed again. How could she ever face her family and friends again? It had to be a nightmare.

But there was still that wet diaper accusing her in a rather insistent manner. And some discarded, soiled clothes that were just as argumentative on the subject.

Oh my God.

Only after a long, tearful taking stock did she finally get up to change. The first thing she did after finding some clean clothes was to call her husband. It took her several minutes to work the phone correctly, but she put that down to her nervousness.

Another mistake.

Courtney’s mom relaxed in her meeting. For the first time that day, she had some sense of bladder and bowel control, and desperately hoped she could make it through the presentation without peeing her pants. Again.

But she wouldn’t risk removing the adult diaper for a couple of days more.

And she had no idea how she was going to break her date that night with one of the notoriously bi secretaries she had flirted with all morning.

Jason reached up in disbelief to finger the earrings he’d worn. What could have possessed him to wear such a feminine style? And his clothes – had he really borrowed…?

He caught sight of his reflection in a window and nearly screamed. Without another thought for classes, he turned for home.

The pounding in Courtney’s head matched the pounding on the door. Her first thought as she struggled to respond was how weak she felt. Her second was a sudden concern for Melanie as her memories returned. She opened her eyes.

Melanie, looking exactly as Courtney remembered her from before the nightmare had started, was shaking her head groggily. There was no sign of the medallions that had hung round their necks. Courtney looked down to see the old, pudgy body that would have sickened her an hour before. In rising relief, she helped Melanie to her feet just as the door flew open.

"What the hell’s going on in here?" Ms. Arden demanded. The gym teacher was a bit confused as to why she hadn’t even remembered this room being here until she heard the screams from within. She glared at the two dazed girls accusingly.

"I…we, uh…" Courtney floundered.

"There was a bug on my arm," Melanie put in, catching Courtney’s eye. "I sort if freaked. Sorry."

Courtney sighed in relief, not at Melanie’s concocting a story, but at what she saw in her eyes. Her friend was back.

"Hmmph," Arden considered. She was hesitant to alienate her intended new basketball recruit. Though in regular clothes, she was amazed how different Courtney looked. She actually looked shorter, not to mention heavier, and there was no sign of that upper body musculature that had caught her eye on the court. Still, clothes could hide a lot. "All right. But you two should be in class. I should report you…unless of course Courtney is going to be at practice tonight."

Sure," Courtney agreed, relief partly replaced by new worry. "I, uh, hurt my arm though. I may look a little ragged."

"Just play like yesterday, and I’ll be happy. Now, get going."

The two girls left eagerly.

"Melanie, I…"

"Wait. I need to check something," Melanie cut her off. She immediately pulled out her phone to call home. When her mother answered, she almost cried in relief, and a few minutes conversation convinced her that the changes seemed to have completely disappeared.

Well, except for the way her mother kept pronouncing her ‘L’s like ‘W’s. That was a bit disconcerting. And her syntax was still a bit…juvenile. Melanie hoped these weren’t permanent side effects from being regressed back to infancy.

Unfortunately, those changes were just the beginning…

Oops, sorry, that’s another story. Ahem. Getting back to the story at hand, several more minutes found the girls still walking the hallways. There had been a prolonged silence, which Courtney finally broke.

"Thanks, Melanie."

It said much more, naturally, and Melanie understood. They hugged wordlessly a few seconds, and both were misty-eyed afterwards.

"Looks like everything is back to normal," Melanie summed up.

Courtney nodded, but wasn’t so sure. She had a strange, almost hollow feeling deep inside, and there was still faint whispering that tugged at the edge of her consciousness. And some memories she couldn’t quite place. Still, Melanie was back, and that was what really mattered. Courtney decided to make light of her misgivings.

"Arden’s gonna be pissed when she sees how I really play," she sighed. "And Crystal’s gonna run me ragged."

"At least it will be the real you playing," Melanie replied quietly.

"Yeah, great," Courtney muttered. She fell silent for a while, then added, "You know, it’s actually kind of fun when you’re playing well. Maybe if I work on it. And try some of my brother’s weights. The small ones anyway." Another silence. "I’m sorry, Melanie."

Melanie stopped to look at her kindly.

"It was hard to resist, wasn’t it?"

Courtney nodded.

"So easy. I lost myself, Melanie. thanks for helping me get back." She smiled. "Guess you were my guardian angel."

"Hardly," Melanie smiled back. "I didn’t tell you about the things I did BEFORE coming to school." She looked around conspiratorially. "Whatta you say we skip classes?"

It was too tempting an offer to refuse.

He closed his watch with a sigh. So close. Nearly three instead of just the two he’d planned. He hated the way a single selfless act could atone for so much, or ruin a carefully laid trap, but those were the rules. He should have intervened earlier, but the chance to trap both mother and daughter had been too tempting. He smiled as he touched a small, nude female figurine on the table. Oh yes, so tempting indeed.

He looked up at the girl examining his array of goods. She had picked up an amulet that combined the symbols for male and female in an intertwining design. A wistful smile came to her lips, but she shook her head ruefully and started to put it back.

"On the contrary," he said, catching and holding her eye. "It does exactly what you hope."

"What…who…how did you…" she spluttered, more embarrassed than shocked at the possibility that her thoughts were known.

"Relax, Amy. I know many things, and I can make dreams come true."

Amy blushed.

"There’s no way…"

"Male and female are just parts of a spectrum. You’ve seen that. Now you can control it."

Amy’s breath quickened. So weird, as though he knew exactly…

No! It was impossible! Though that word had left her vocabulary given what she’d just been through. But to actually control it…

The amulet seemed to warm to her touch.

Well, what the hell, she decided. It was an interesting piece anyway.

"What does it cost?" she asked a bit too eagerly.

He hesitated. Ah, yes, the cost.

"You can have it for $5," he announced.

Amy paid it gladly, not realizing that he hadn’t answered the question.

But she would find out eventually.

As do we all.

END

[footfreak4ever]

Hey has anyone ever tried to write a sequel to this amazing story? Or is Nomdreserv even still writing? I absolutely love these stories and this one in particular.

[CelebrityChanger]

I have thought about taking the Amy character and seeing exploring what she does with this new medallion.

[footfreak4ever]

That would be awesome. Amy would definitely play up the gender roles and swaps that made this such an interesting story. Doing all kinds of different swaps and having angles you wouldn't see. I just think it's probably the best story on here for my tastes. I'd love to see it continue.

[CelebrityChanger]

Okay then, I think that sounds like a decent plan. If I ever get the creative juices flowing.