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.

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

Copyright 2000 by Nomdreserv