Transfer Student 4

By Nomdreserv

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tiffany shrugged.

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

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

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

And, suddenly, she did.

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

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

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

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

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

Diana noted her sudden hesitation.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

In short, she needed a shave. Everywhere.

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

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

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

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

She wondered if anyone had ever tried bathing in depilatory.

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

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

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

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

The smaller girl bristled.

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

"Whatever." The older girl snickered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Amy opened the door to Brad’s house.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Linebacker, huh? Do linebackers do this?"

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

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

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

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

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

They stared at each other in silence.

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

He seemed relieved to have a sympathetic ear.

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

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

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

Amy began fondling his crotch.

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

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

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

"Damn thing shrunk or something," she grunted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Like what you see?"

"Uh…"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What?" she asked, hearing his surprise.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Exactly as it was.

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

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

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

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

She held him harder, her hands strangely powerful.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Especially at the moment.

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

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

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

And it felt great.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Brad erupted in rage.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

With that, he burst into tears again.

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

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

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

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

Yet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But he practiced it anyway.

END PART 4

Copyright 2000 by Nomdreserv