Shifting the Sci-Fi Guy
[1]
She considered the options left before her. It would’ve been interesting to see what became of the guitar guy and the antsy one. But the Star Wars fellow didn’t appear as visibly troubled as her first target. Though, he definitely seemed guarded and reserved.
Scant signs of fear crossed his face about what happened to the other guy. The cue stick he once held behind his back shifted to his side like a staff. All three exchanged questioning glances, endeavoring to confirm that they really saw one of their number turn into a girl. She knew this could lead to problems.
Denial, shock, and hesitation were all natural after one transformation. Could be totally random. Once two or more changed, they were sure to try to escape. She considered just spreading it around to take care of the entire group, but she would miss the specific nuances and details of individual shifts.
Watching the goth girl creation got her squirming more than her recent bits of fun. Rushing would only spoil it. She had to take it slow. Same as before.
This one squinted as the change washed over him. Could he actually see it? She didn’t know but hoped not.
The first, obvious change was the shift of his eyes from a subdued brown to a striking green that shimmered like jewelry. As with the goth girl, the light scrunched the elongated shape of his head into a gentler oval. His cheeks bent inward and traced girlish lines. Beyond some refinements, the general presence of his face remained the same but without the barest hint of facial hair. He immediately tried to clear his throat. She hadn’t paid attention to his before voice, but it clearly no longer matched the young man, who was rapidly turning into something else.
His expression didn’t shift, but there was a placid, serene warmth in his pink, soft lips. When the tissue crumple of his hair spread out in straight, flowing brunette locks over his shoulders, he quickly remarked, “Oh, woah…” before using a hand to check it. Just his face in isolation had a certain clarity. If she didn’t regard his hair or the other changes rapidly flowing forth, it might still resemble a young, curious guy. But it also reminded her of…something nice from a while ago.
The way the change selected what features to gift and what way to interpret them filled her with wonder. His arms and shoulders slimmed to enviable, lean dimensions as the material of his gray top swelled and wiggled with ridged, sweater material.
His black shorts fluttered into a simple, straight black polyester skirt with a fold and cut around the knee. Sandals completed the ensemble, as what was beneath that outfit asserted itself. His soft, long legs glimmered in the light through the side window. They had a polished sheen clear of even the faintest traces of silvery hairs.
The last feature to be revealed was her breasts. The dense material of the top provided a buffer that blunted and contained the swelling expanse of flesh. This new one bloomed beyond the goth girl and eclipsed what even she could boast. The expression of her abundant chest couldn’t help but draw the eyes of the others. She looked down and noticed as well. Hers was now a body to be regarded around campus and that filled her with a sense of glee but also trepidation. There was much she didn’t know about how these changes would resolve with time.
“Woah”, was the new girl’s next comment. It looked like she was done. She diligently observed the results.
The antsy one rocked on his heels without bouncing and took a breath before inquiring, “Zach? That you?”
Ahh, her name is Zach… Was Zach. But that was all up to her now, she hadn’t even settled on a fitting name for herself yet.
Zach sucked in her lip on the right side with an ambiguous expression. Her arms adjusted her gray, ribbed top and drifted towards her bust but ultimately clung to the edges without getting closer. Guitar guy took a sharp breath and scanned the room again. She had to wonder if the transformation had some sort of relaxing quality to keep them from running and screaming, or perhaps this was just human nature when faced with the inexplicable. Certainly, though, she knew there would eventually be those who react with less subtlety.
The new girl shifted in place while looking down at herself and bouncing her slender knee. The ripples through her top were immediately obvious and made her widen her captivating eyes. From there, the gap between her thighs narrowed and she could see them sliding against one another. Her expression shifted around, as though she is hunting for something close but intangible. Her breath drew in and her mouth widened slightly. Both remaining guys leaned forward.
After a moment, Zach seemed to realize where she was and released a long breath. “Umm…what was that? Oh. Ha… damn. I guess it’s catching or spreading. Woah though… this. I don’t know what to say. These are super big. I guess I take after my aunt…if… you know.” She trailed off but didn’t look flush or embarrassed. The guitar guy gave a single shake of the head, picked up his instrument, and walked out the sliding doors without saying anything.
Zach commented, “Probably smart. You?”
Antsy guy brushed his hair away from the side of his face and rubbed his nose. It was entirely obvious that he was struggling to look her in the eyes and not peek lower. Zach seemed to notice and a slim smirk emerged.
Clearing his throat, he asked Zach, “Can we go talk somewhere that I know for sure I’m not going to need a bra by the end of the conversation, because of some curse or ghost or whatever is going on?”
The hidden one stifled a chuckle at that.
Zach rocked her head and looked him up and down, even though he couldn’t bring himself to return the gesture. “All right, Connor. Talk. Just talk though. Because I know what we promised, but you gotta give me a little bit.”
With all his twisting, contorting energy surging from his voice, Connor beckoned and hid his hands back and forth as a furious pantomime before they made their way over to the hall.
She had some choices before her. She didn’t want to lose any of them before the job was done. But there were also so many others in the building who might be easier to catch unaware. She was only getting started…
——
I gotta admit, I was curious.
When the quiet guy turned into a cute goth girl, my first inkling was to stand around where he stood and see what happened. Not that I had a masculinity death wish. But I figured it couldn’t really hurt.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
There were so many girls, going back to fourth grade, I had a crush on. Each and every time, it didn’t work out because of something I did, some way that I looked, or some random disagreement.
Connor and I both came from the same small town in the hills. No matter what we did, the girls either ignored us or put us through the wringer. It was at the tail end of high school, with just a hundred others in the class, mostly girls. And even the nicest ones had this formulated sense of polite rejection. Like just being around them represented the kind of obligation that we were their waiters in a restaurant. Even in the good times, they were the waitresses.
That distance meant just trying to hit on them, suggest a fun weekend, or work your way to a dance was beyond the pale. How could you be so uncouth! Meanwhile, Mister Owner just walks in, and whatever he says goes. Around our school, that was JT Turner, the dude born on third base who can just walk his way home and back whenever he likes. Love and romance were a rigged game.
So, one night we just went off about all this to one another, laughing so we didn’t cry about it, and Connor said to me, “Bro, you know if anything like really weird or supernatural ever happens to me and like I turn into a blonde chick with a huge rack. Well, first of all, I’m bouncing those in front of the closest mirror and just living it up, man. But I promise, as a man, on my honor, I will go out with you with no strings attached. Even more, we can take all that for a… Test drive? What I’m saying is if I get turned into a chick then let’s forget everyone else and just, you know, hook up. Not to make this sound gay or anything. Not that there’s anything wrong with that either. But I know you like chicks and so do I. If I was a chick, I would absolutely hit that… and by that, I mean you. I would let you fuck my wet, girly pussy so hard...”
Remarkably, neither of us was stoned when we had this conversation. Sleep deprived, delirious, coasting on video games and the grossest snacks, but not stoned. Whether each of those states is all that different, I don’t know, but that’s where we were.
So, of course, my man lays down that sharing of his commitment to brotherhood or whatever and there’s no way I’m not answering in kind. “Same here. I’d love to see you with a big rack. But, yeah, man. Same to you. If something like Mr. Bigfoot out in the woods up north is real, Skinwalkers, and those replica… reptilian aliens, I’m sure this kind of stuff is junior league. It can happen. But what I’m saying is, if it happens to me then I’ll do you the same. Literally. I will wet your whistle something fierce. More than that. Let’s date and go steady. I mean we get along so well, the two of us as a chick and a dude and like even two chicks, because that’s cool too… that’s not screw around…well you know what I mean, not beat around the bush you know. Let’s agree, if in the unlikely event something like that happens, on my honor, I will totally and completely be your girlfriend or unrestrained fuck buddy gal. What happens after that, I don’t know, but let’s just bust each other’s cherries.”
We didn’t do any crazy blood or ritual stuff, but we shook hands on it, give a nod, and agreed this was the way things were. We both totally forgot about it and, at the same time, there was an understanding that if the activation code came for something like that, then we weren’t going to try to take an out.
But, after that impossible possibility happened right in front of us, I must admit that evening was right there in my head. I thought about saying something, but I didn’t have the chance before some light from over by the window caught my eye. Everything happened so fast after that.
It was like a presence I couldn’t reach was squeezing my face and tugging on my hair. I had no illusions that this wasn’t what I suspected. But it’s a different matter altogether to realize it. Just saying “whoa” is underselling it. It was like my entire existence and feeling as a human being was being pushed and pulled and torn and twisted like hot taffy on a summer day, and I had no idea what I was going to end up as.
My clothes lost the Millennium Falcon to become a different material. That was a bummer because I really liked that graphic. I wound up in a skirt too. Just processing all that took a lot, once everything settled down.
My legs felt so soft and free that they were kind of cold and empty but also so full too. Those breasts seemed surreal from this angle, just a massive thing rising out of that sweater. I could understand how saying “sweater puppies” might be uncomfortable when you got a set of big dogs. It called for another “whoa”.
Connor asked if this was me, and I wasn’t even sure anymore. Adjusting those clothes meant manipulating the most obvious aspects of a girl. I wasn’t ready to go for that expanse. Just sort of lingering around it and feeling the way my body pushed against it was a rush of both adrenaline and so many crazy chemicals inside my head.
I kinda got carried away. I had plenty of access to the Internet, along with certain other things. I knew how a girl could get off, and I was one. If this was temporary, then I just wanted to feel a few things before it went away. I pressed my immensely soft, fleshy thighs together and bounced my knee. Not sensing anything familiar between my legs, I could only imagine what was down there. The Internet provided me with enough visual aids.
Everything felt compressed and tightened. It was like folding over and inside the most delicate skin between my shaft and balls and around my nuts. Not that I had those anymore, but that was my fumbling analogy. It was like pulling all that taught and yet loose. At the pinnacle was a tight, aching little spot that wandered as I played this tune. The warmth, wetness, and emptiness overwhelmed me. An odd fullness and unfurling sucked away all other thoughts as I tried to press closer and harder. Jolts to my breasts made me think of what more I could do. Holy fuck, I was about to let loose with what felt like a volcano stirring underneath and inside.
And then, I remembered I was in the middle of the dorm common room about ready to mercilessly hump and grind the billiards table to finish. I could see that Connor was watching. Words were no easier for me right then, but I still managed to get them out about the situation and what happened to me. I even mentioned my aunt, who was about as big as I was now.
The other guy with the guitar noped out of there right then, and I couldn’t blame him.