The Witches Of Fairmont High free porn video

Given all the recent controversy, I should mention that this story can be posted or archived without further permission from me. I write for my own enjoyment and for the enjoyment of others - not for money, fame, or anything else I can think of. With that in mind, please enjoy. And, oh, by the way, this story is pretty PG (maybe PG13). No steamy sex scenes or the like. Still the them is essentially adult and TG, so if you don't like this sort of stuff, don't read it. Again, enjoy. THE WITCHES OF FAIRMONT HIGH By: The Professor The world got weird my junior year at Fairmont High. As the school year began, I had just gotten my driver's license, so I was able to explore the world a little more. My parents hoped it wouldn't affect my grades. I was an Honor Roll student, though, and I planned to stay that way. I would need the grades to get into college since I wasn't an athlete. Fortunately (or so I thought at the time), I had a photographic memory. For outside activities, I was becoming active in speech and debate, and I was looking forward to trying out for plays and musicals during my junior year. One of my closest rivals for speech and drama honors was Dave Marshall, my best friend, so it promised to be an interesting year. There were some changes at the school that fall. Mr. Reynolds, our principal, had retired, and a new principal, Ms. Hammond had been hired from outside. She had hired Ms. Lester to be the new girl's coach, but other than that, things were pretty much unchanged at the school, or so I thought. The first inkling that something was wrong came the first day of classes. Marsha Jacobs and Cindy Forbes came over at lunch to sit with Dave and I. We talked about who we had for classes when Marsha said, "I like most of the teachers this year, but Ms. Breen is kind of dingy." "You mean Mr. Breen?" I asked munching on a potato chip. "Mr. Breen?" Marsha and Dave said at the same time. Cindy didn't say anything, but she looked at me oddly. Then Dave added, "Who is Mr. Breen?" "He taught Freshman English," I said. "You remember him, don't you. I mean, we didn't have him, but a lot of the girls complained about him. They said he always seemed to be mentally undressing them. Carol Davis's mother even complained about him." Marsha and Dave looked at each other and shook their heads. "Sorry, Paul, but we don't remember him. He must not have been here very long." I let the subject drop. Mr. Breen had taught at Fairmont for about five years. He had been one of the advisors to the debate team our freshman year. I had no idea who Ms. Breen was, but Mr. Breen was probably the most notorious teacher on the staff. He was the master of innuendo, and none of the girls liked him. He was married to a woman who worked as a secretary for Midlowe Industries where my father worked. The rumor was she was long-suffering and had stuck with her husband in spite of two seedy affairs. During library period, I decided to walk by Mr. Breen's classroom. I had begun to think Dave and Marsha were having a joke at my expense. The door to Mr. Breen's classroom was open, and no class was in session. At the desk, which had been Mr. Breen's desk last year, sat a woman. She was a woman dressed in a conservative blouse and skirt. She had long, straight brown hair and light makeup and a rather plain face, but her body was absolutely incredible. She had large, firm breasts under her conservative blouse and the legs of a model. She looked up at me and said, "Hello, Paul, what can I do for you?" My mind was racing, but I had the presence of mind to say, "Oh, nothing, Ms. Breen. I was daydreaming and took a wrong turn." "Are you going to be on the debate team again?" "I hope so," I replied with a little smile. She smiled back. "Good for you!" I left quickly, my heart pounding. I began to wonder what was wrong with me. Ms. Breen was normal to everyone except me. I remembered a Mr. Breen who was about thirty with a small mustache and receding hairline who liked to tease the girls. Ms. Breen had the same color hair and was about thirty, but there, the resemblance ended. I went back to the library and pulled out the previous year's year book. Under the faculty, I found Ms. Breen's picture, but there was no mention of a Mr. Breen at all. Was I the only person who remembered a Mr. Breen? I had to be wrong. Even the yearbook said I was wrong. I decided I had somehow slipped a mental cog. Maybe I was working too hard. I decided the best thing I could do was to forget the entire thing. Two weeks later, classes were in full swing and I had put the Breen incident in the back of my mind. I was busy with all my new courses, and debate practice ate up two afternoons a week after class. Fortunately, Ms. Breen hadn't attended any of our debate practices yet. Also, I had had a couple of dates with Cindy Forbes. Cindy was one of the best looking and most popular girls in our class. She was about five-five with long blonde hair with a classically beautiful face and a great body. I couldn't believe my good luck, but it turned out that Marsha and Cindy had become friends over the summer, and since Marsha was interested in Dave, Cindy started hanging around with me. Her father was Milton Forbes, the president of one of the larger banks in the city, so Cindy was considered a prime catch. Just when I thought things were returning to normal, I got another taste of weird. I was sitting with Dave in Junior Assembly when an Hispanic girl came in and sat across the aisle from me. She was wearing too much makeup and about a ton of long dark hair. She was wearing a short black dress that looked as if it has been painted on her. I couldn't believe I had never noticed her before. "Who is she?" I whispered to Dave. Dave looked surprised. "That's Rachel Hernandez. You know her. Good lord, what guy in the school doesn't recognize her?" My alarm bells were going off again. "Oh, she just looks different. Is she any relation to Chet Hernandez?" "Who is Chet Hernandez?" Dave wanted to know. Okay, that was it. Chet Hernandez, as everyone in the school knew, was the biggest bully in our class. Freshman year, he had nearly broken Dave's nose in a fight. Also, Chet had been seen by Dave and I just the day before mouthing off to our new principal. Dave could never forget Chet Hernandez. Or so I thought. I made up an answer quickly. "Chet is that guy who dropped out of school last year. He was a year ahead of us." Dave shook his head. "I guess I don't know him. Besides, with all the guys on the football team taking turns with her, she doesn't need a brother." That night, I went through my copy of the yearbook. Something was weird, and I wanted to know what it was. I looked through the entire book but couldn't find any mention of Chet Hernandez. I did, however, find several references to Rachel Hernandez. It was the Ms. Breen situation all over again. I looked through the rest of the book and could find no other changes. Still, two changes that no one else was aware of were enough. Saturday evening, Cindy and I went to a movie. I casually asked her how she was doing in Ms. Breen's class. She shrugged. "Okay, I guess. She's kind of odd." "Odd? How?" "Well," Cindy began, "she has a fabulous body, but she's always dressing so plain. I mean, she doesn't have a great face, but her body should be enough for some guys." I was surprised to hear Cindy talk this way. It was as if she wanted Ms. Breen to be some kind of a tart. "Does she act normal, though?" "Sure," Cindy replied. Then her eyes narrowed. "What are you getting at anyhow?" "Nothing," I lied. I really wanted to know if she was disoriented in some way. I knew there had been a Mr. Breen, yet he had somehow been replaced by Ms. Breen. It was as if reality had somehow shifted. I honestly began to question my own sanity. Why did I notice these changes when no one else did? It didn't seem possible that two people could suddenly have their sex changed and not have anyone notice. At least, I would think those two people would notice. I couldn't tell anyone. Who would believe me? For my own sanity, though, I had to figure out what was going on. What else had changed during the year? We had a new principal and a new girls gym teacher. Could those changes have anything to do with the more fantastic changes? It was possible. But how could I prove it? The next week, there were no big changes, but there was one little one. Ms. Breen had started dressing a little more daring. I saw her just before classes wearing very high heels and a very short skirt. At lunch I told Cindy, "It looks like you got your wish." She frowned. "What wish?" "You wanted Ms. Breen to dress a little sexier. I saw her this morning with a lot of leg showing." Cindy just smiled and said nothing. I wanted to press her, but something told me I had just noticed another change no one else had seen. I felt I had to do something before anything else changed. I was sure now that it wasn't just my imagination. Something or someone was editing my reality. It was possible this was happening all over town. Harper Falls wasn't a large city like Fresno an hour away, but we had a population of nearly fifty thousand. Perhaps men had changed into women all over town, or maybe some women had changed into men. It didn't have to be just sex, either. Maybe a flower shop was now a book store, or new people had suddenly appeared out of nowhere or, I shuddered, old people had disappeared into nowhere. Anything was possible, but I suspected Fairmont High was the center of it all. Ms. Hammond had been hired and Mr. Reynolds had retired. Could that have been what started it all? Ms. Hammond had been brought in from a suburb of San Francisco where she had been an assistant principal. One of the school board members, a Mrs. Barney, had recommended her, and she had been hired very quickly. It might have been a coincidence, I thought, but the changes began as soon as Ms. Hammond arrived. Next Thursday and Friday were holidays for us, since the teachers would be having conferences off site. I might be able to sneak into the school and check things out. Perhaps there were records in the principal's office that might tell me what had happened. That Thursday, I was ready to go to the high school to see what I could find. It was nearly noon, and I figured even most of the skeleton staff would be out for lunch. Just as I was leaving, the phone rang. It was Cindy and she wanted to know what I was going to do that day. "You haven't called me," she said, "so I didn't know if we were going out today." "Sure," I said, "but I have a couple of things to do first. Then we can go to a movie. I'll pick you up about two." "There's a movie I've wanted to see starting at twelve thirty," she pressed. "Maybe we could make it." "I'd like to," I said truthfully, "but I need to go by school first." "Can't it wait?" "I forgot my algebra book," I lied. "I want to make sure I get it before they lock up for the day." "Okay," she agreed reluctantly. I hurried to the high school and immediately tried the principal's office. No one was around, but the door was locked. I was about to try to figure out a way to get it open when I heard voices from the direction of the gym. As quietly as I could, I sneaked over to the entrance of the gym in time to see Ms. Lester, the girl's coach talking with Mike Clancy, one of the forwards on our basketball team. Mike was a friend of mine. He was a good basketball player, but not a starter. Since I wasn't much good at sports, I didn't see much of him from the start of fall practice through the end of the season. "I appreciate your coming in today to help me with the girl's basketball practice, Mike. With our big game against Jefferson coming up on Monday, we need all the help we can get," she was saying. I could hear Mike reply, "No problem, Ms. Lester. I'm glad to help." I'm sure he was. This was probably a way for Mike to get dates. I carefully peeked in the gym and saw Mike in shorts and a sweatshirt looking as if he were ready for practice. "Oh, you'll be a big help," she replied. "A bigger help than you could ever imagine." She made a gesture with her hand, and Mike seemed to freeze in place. She smiled an evil smile at him. "As Mike Clancy, you're just a second string forward, but as Michelle Clancy, you'll be a lot of help to our team." My heart jumped as Mike suddenly began to change. His short red hair became long, tied itself back into a pony tail. He lost some of his six three height, but was still about five ten as his body developed curves and breasts. In less than a minute, a tall, attractive girl stood where Mike Clancy had been. She looked somewhat like Mike - enough to be his sister if he had had one. But this was Mike as he would have been if he had been born a girl. In less than a minute, Ms. Lester had changed him. "Now," Ms. Lester said, "you are Michelle Clancy." "I am Michelle Clancy," the new girl repeated in a daze. Ms. Lester went on to tell her that she was the starting forward for the girl's basketball team. Mike - now Michelle - nodded at each suggestion. I began to realize this was what had happened to Mr. Breen and to Chet Hernandez. As they had become female, they never realized that they had ever been anything else. And for some reason, everyone around them believed the same thing. A hand was suddenly on my shoulder. I jumped and turned. It was Cindy. "What are you doing here?" I whispered. "I followed you," she whispered back. "I didn't believe your story about the algebra book for a minute." I looked back. Ms. Lester was talking intently to the new Michelle and hadn't noticed us. "Look," I said, "we have to get out of here." She nodded. "I know. I saw, too." She saw! I was thrilled. someone else knew what I had suspected. I wasn't alone any more. We walked hurriedly down the hall as I explained to her about what had happened to Mr. Breen and Chet Hernandez. I told her my plan to look in the principal's office. "I don't know anything about Mr. Breen or Chet Hernandez," she told me, "but I do know how to get into the principal's office." "You do?" She smiled and took my hand. "Sure. Her secretary always puts the key in her pencil drawer." "We'd better hurry," I told her quietly. "She could be back any minute." The key was just where Cindy said it would be, and we were in the principal's office in no time. I began searching the file drawers as Cindy watched the door. It took me ten minutes, but at last, I found a confidential folder that looked promising. "I think I found it," I called to Cindy without looking up. "Yes, you have," a new voice said as my world went dark. I woke up a few minutes later sitting in a chair facing Ms. Hammond as she watched me from behind her desk. My head cleared at once, but I found to my distress that I couldn't move anything but my head. "He's awake now," a voice said. With a sinking feeling, I realized it was Cindy's voice. While I had been spying on Ms. Lester, Cindy had been spying on me. Ms. Hammond smiled and nodded in agreement. "You've created quite a problem for us, Mr. Mitchell," Ms. Hammond said. "I know," I managed to say. "I saw what you did to Mike." "Yes," she agreed. "I was afraid you were immune to our revisions. That's why I had Cindy keep an eye on you." "What are you?" Oddly, I wasn't afraid. I was relieved to know that there were answers to the questions which had plagued me for weeks, and my curiosity was piqued. "You'd probably call us witches," she replied. "It's not entirely accurate, but it will do. We learned to do magic when we were in college as part of what you would call a coven. Mrs. Barney on the school board, Ms. Lester and I were classmates." "But why have you changed some of the guys into girls?" "It's a long story. It was a trick we learned in college. Some of my friends and I had become interested in magic and formed what you would call a coven. Then, one night, I had a date with a creep who tried to rape me. I managed to get away and told Carol Lester and Jan Meyer - Mrs. Barney now - about it. They were part of the coven. We decided to look for a proper spell which would teach him a lesson. We studied hundreds of texts in every college library in the area until we found a fitting spell. It's the one you know about - change of sex. We confronted my would-be rapist and changed him into the girl of his dreams. We made him - her by then - very sexy and very horny. She dropped out of school and became a stripper. It was the perfect punishment, except she didn't remember any of it. She thought she had always been a girl, and so did everyone else." "Everyone except us," a new voice said. I turned to see Ms. Lester enter the room. "Members of our coven have a magical immunity to adapting to the changes." "But why did I notice the changes?" I asked. Ms. Hammond shook her head. "We don't know, really. From our readings, we know that some people do have a natural immunity to the spells. You seem to be one of them. That's why we had Cindy keep an eye on you. She's the newest member of the coven." Cindy smiled at me in reply. "He told me he has a photographic memory." Ms. Lester nodded. "That's probably what gives you your immunity." "So," Ms. Hammond began again, "the problem is, what do we do with you?" It was a good question. If I was immune to the spell, they couldn't just turn me into a girl, and they couldn't make me forget. I didn't think they would kill me, but I wasn't sure. Ms. Lester grinned. "Maybe we should turn him into a frog." My heart seemed to stop for a moment until I remembered, "You can't. I'm immune." Ms. Hammond shook her head. "No, we can change you. Notice we were able to paralyze you without any trouble. We just can't make you forget. Your immunity means we can't make you forget who you were. Since you would remember being human, though, we couldn't change your thoughts to match those of a frog, even if we knew and were willing to use such a spell." I had reason to be frightened again. They could change me. "But," I argued, "you can't change me into a girl. I would remember." Ms. Lester smiled suddenly. "Wait! Maybe we can't make him forget, but we can make him do other things." "What do you have in mind?" Ms. Hammond asked. "We can make him fall in love and obey his lover's every wish. Then, all we have to do is get his lover to suggest the behavior we want." "And I suppose my lover would be someone like Cindy?" I challenged. Ms. Lester laughed. "Oh, no! Your lover will be you best friend, Dave Marshall, and you'll be a girl!" "Do we really have to do this?" Cindy asked suddenly. I saw she was becoming uncomfortable with my situation. Ms. Hammond nodded. "That's the best solution, Cindy. And since we can't make him think he's always been a girl, it will be up to you to train him. Let's begin now." It's hard to describe the horror that was going through my mind at the moment. They were really going to change me into a girl! I knew they could do it. I had seen them do it to Mike. The difference was Mike and all the others now thought they had always been female. That might not be so bad. If you didn't know any different, it would be okay. But for me, it would be a living hell. I would remember what it had been like being male. I would still have male thoughts and male memories, but I would be a girl. I would have to wear makeup and nylons and perfume. I would have to wear bras and have periods. Everyone except the people in this room would think I had always been a girl. I tried without any success to break the spell which held me and run for the door, but my body refused to move. My heart began to pound wildly as I realized the process had already started. "We'll start with the most important parts," Ms. Hammond said. I knew at once what she meant, for there was a tingling sensation between my legs. I became hard for a moment, and then the familiar feeling was replaced by -- nothing. There was a sudden void between my legs, and I knew I now had a vagina. At the same time, there was a sudden swelling on my chest, and my nipples rubbed hard against my T-shirt. I looked down in horror as two large breasts grew on my chest. "I could use another basketball player," Ms. Lester commented. "Oh, no," Ms. Hammond said. "I want her to be as feminine as possible. When we're finished with Paula here, she's going to give every boy in the school a hard on." She looked at me carefully. "You can feel it, can't you? You have breasts now. In fact, you have probably the most lovely breasts in the school." My entire body began to tingle. I could feel changes occurring from my scalp to my toes. Even my clothes seemed to ripple and become fluid. Ms. Hammond continued, "Paula, I want you to understand what we're doing to you in detail. First, there's no going back. A male can be changed into a female by changing his y chromosome into an x, but there's no way back. You will always be a girl." My jeans had become a short jeans skirt, and instead of running shoes, I was wearing low black pumps. My legs were hairless and shapely, and as I watched, a thin layer of nylon crept over them. "We will adjust your intelligence. Instead of an A student, you will get Bs and Cs. We don't want you too bright. Also, you'll get a very healthy shot of hormones so you'll be strongly attracted to boys physically. Mentally, you'll still like girls, but that will change shortly. We'll link you and Dave Marshall in a strong love spell. The two of you will spend a lot of time looking for quiet places to be together." I could move again, but I was too stunned to do much. My shirt had become a cream-colored, sleeveless knit top, and my arms has become smooth and hairless. I had tapered fingernails which had been painted bright red. Thin gold bracelets were on my right wrist and a small, dainty watch on my left wrist. A gold necklace hung at my neck, pushed out slightly from the slope of my impressive breasts. "You'll get used to this pretty quickly, but I need to warn you. If you cause any trouble, we will change you for the worst. We can't change you back into a boy, but we can make you into any girl we want, and some of the choices will be much less pleasant than this one." "That's right," Cindy said. "Dave is cute and you'll enjoy being his girl. It could be a lot worse." I could feel hair growing longer on my head and felt a slight tickle as it cascaded down my back and over my shoulders. I felt a small pinch at my earlobes, followed by a tugging sensation. I knew I was now wearing earrings. Even my eyelashes felt odd, and I realized they were probably longer. There was an odd taste on my lips, too, so I must be wearing lipstick. The smell of a gentle, feminine perfume filled my nostrils. "There!" said Ms. Hammond. "We're all done. Now, that wasn't so bad, was it, Paula?" "Let her see herself," Ms. Lester suggested, opening a closet door to reveal a full-length mirror. The paralysis was gone, and I found I could move again. Shakily, I got to my feet, balancing carefully on my first pair of heels. I felt the skirt slide down over the nylon on my legs, but it didn't slide far. The hem was a good four inches above my shapely knees. It was at that moment that I looked into the mirror and saw myself as a girl for the very first time. Cindy had to prop me up, for I nearly fainted. The person I saw in the mirror looked a little like the Paul Anderson I had been. The skin color was the same, my hair was still brown, and my eyes were still blue. But beyond that, I was completely different. I was a girl, and an incredible looking girl at that. If I had been my old self, I would have done anything for a date with this girl. My proportions were absolutely perfect. "Oh my God," I uttered, hearing for the first time my musically soprano voice. "Well, Paula, what do you think?" Ms. Hammond asked. I couldn't answer her. I was too busy staring at the gorgeous creature I had become. I was a brunette with an absolutely angelic face. My body was sensational, from my breasts to my legs. I was one of the best looking girls I had ever seen. I walked toward the mirror for a closer look. Even given the awkwardness of walking in heels for the first time, the motion of my body was sheer poetry. A thousand thoughts began to race through my mind all at once. Looking back on it, I began to change mentally from the moment I saw myself in the mirror. At first, the girl who stared back at me was a stranger. She was someone my male mind found attractive. But from almost the first minute, I began to think of this person as me. Have you ever had friends move away and then meet them again five years later? Before you see them again, you remember them as they were, but once you see them after five years, the new image is imprinted on your mind. You haven't forgotten the old image, but you can't relate to it any more. That was how it was with me. I remembered being a boy, and I regretted that I wasn't a boy any longer, but I saw myself as a girl, and realized with a pain of loss that extended beyond the physical that I would always be a girl. "Cindy," Ms. Hammond said, breaking my reverie, "you had better take Paula home." I felt Cindy's hand on my arm, and wordlessly, she led me out of the school. "You don't know how lucky you are," she told me. "You could have been changed into a lot worse." "How?" I moaned. "You don't know all of it. Ms. Hammond and Ms. Lester hate men. They can change someone and make them remember who they were." "But that's what they did with me!" She shook her head as we walked. "They didn't have a choice with you. It's that near photographic memory of yours. I know of a man who accused Ms. Lester of being a dyke. Ms. Lester changed him into a woman and made her a prostitute. She has to have sex several times a day now, and Ms. Lester made her remember who she was. The reason I'm telling you this is that if they really get mad at you, they could do that to you. Right now, you have an identity. You are Paula Anderson, but they could take that away from you and change you into some nameless whore. I've come to like you as a boy. Now that you're a girl, I'd like to be your friend, but you'll have to act like a girl all the time." "But I don't know how," I objected. I suddenly realized I didn't even know how to apply makeup or dress right or act as a girl. Most girls my age had learned all of this from their mother or sisters or other girls. My mother had never taught me most of what I would have to know. I suppressed a sudden urge to cry. "You heard Ms. Hammond say I was to train you. Your training starts right now. I'm taking you back to my house to teach you the basics. Then, I'll teach you other things as you need them." We made it to Cindy's house without incident, but I did notice as we walked to her car that a couple of my old male friends who were throwing a football on the practice field took great interest in us. I had never experienced before the feeling I felt then. To my knowledge, when I was male, no girl ever looked at me the way these two boys looked at me. I now knew how a deer must feel when a wolf sights her and begins to stalk her. I had known both of those guys since we were in kindergarten, and I never dreamed they could stare at anyone the way they were staring at me. "It won't be so bad," Cindy consoled me as we drove to her house. "If you just relax and let things happen, you'll find it's fun to be a girl." "For you, maybe," I sniffed. "You've always been a girl. You wouldn't know what it's like to be a guy one minute and a girl the next." "True," she conceded as well turned into her driveway, "but you'll have to make the best of it." Cindy's room was bright and very feminine. "Your room probably looks a lot like this," she said. "Everything around you will change to fit the person you have become." I tried to imagine what my room must look like without all the model planes I built when I was younger, or the sports posters and equipment which was always strewn around the room. It wouldn't seem like my room anymore. "I though I'd give you a few lessons in makeup first," she said. "Look," I replied, "you may be able to change me physically into a girl, but I don't want to know about makeup or any of that stuff. As soon as I get home, I'm going to put on a pair of jeans and never wear a skirt again." Cindy smiled. "You may think so now, but that will change. Your body is producing female hormones, and before you know it, you'll start thinking like a girl." She sat me down on her bed and opened a magazine for me to look at. The picture was of a handsome boy about my age. I had seen him on some TV show, but I didn't know his name. "He's a hunk, isn't he?" Cindy said. "I don't know what you're talking about," I replied, but I found I was staring at the picture. "Come on, Paula, he's hot. You can feel it, can't you?" I didn't want to admit it, but I did think he was hot. I found I was looking at him with the same thoughts I might have had looking at a girl in Playboy only a few hours ago. Ms. Hammond had told me I would like boys now. To my horror, I realized she was right. "Now," she said, "think about Dave Marshall." I could see Dave in my mind. Dave and I had been friends since we were five. We had been good friends, played sports together, and chased girls together for as long as I could remember. But I wasn't seeing Dave as just a friend now. Something was stirring within me - something I couldn't control. I felt a shudder I would later realize was desire when I thought about Dave. Cindy could tell what I was thinking. She laughed. "Okay, now you know you're really a girl. You can't wait to be alone with Dave." "No, I..." I began, but I didn't know what to say. To deny it would be a lie. I had become a girl physically and was starting to become one mentally. Cindy shook her head. "I just wanted you to understand that you don't have a choice. You have to learn to live in your new body, and you're going to need me to teach you all the things girls learn from their mothers and from each other if you're going to be happy." I shrugged without a word. No matter if I liked it or not, Cindy was right. With that the lessons began. Cindy had me strip down, and for the first time in my life, I saw a girl's naked body. I examined my breasts, and was surprised to find the nipples were so sensitive. I watched in amazement as I stroked them and they became erect. Between my legs lay an even more mysterious area. Carefully, I probed the lips of my vagina as Cindy told me how to handle my periods and personal hygiene. I had never realized being a girl could require so much... well, preventative maintenance. Slowly though, I began to think of this body as mine, and I knew that in a few days, it would seem as if I had always looked and felt this way. The most shocking aspect of my self examination was that I wasn't turned on by it. If I had had the opportunity just a few hours before to examine a female body, I would have been exited, but now, I felt no thrill. I got dressed again, and Cindy walked me home. Mom and Dad and my brother, Dan were already there. I felt awkward having my family see me for the first time as a girl. It took all of my will power to keep from turning around and running away so I wouldn't have to face the humiliation of being a girl. "Hi, Paula," my brother, Ralph said as I walked in. Ralph is two years younger than me. I had taught him how to play every sport he knew. If anyone was to remember me as a male, it would be Ralph. But Ralph had greeted me with the same disinterest my friends had greeted their older sisters. Older sisters were a burden. They were the substitute mothers all boys hated. I had become just an older sister. "Paula, honey," my mother called from the kitchen, "your father will be home any minute now. I need some help in the kitchen." I cringed. Mother never asked me to help in the kitchen before dinner. Of course, I had dishes to do and the table to set, but as a girl, my mother was going to expect me to help with the cooking. I did the best I could, but I'm sure my mother remembered teaching me to cook. "Honestly, Paula," she sighed, "you act as if you've forgotten everything I ever told you about cooking." If only she had known how close to the truth that was. I wasn't very hungry that night. Part of the reason was that I was upset and apprehensive due to my transformation. The other part, I was to learn later, that in this girl's body, I didn't have the need for as many calories as I did when I was a boy. Also, Ralph teased me unmercifully as I had seen my friends tease their older sisters. He kidded me about being fat (which I was not), and he kidded me about being in love with Dave (which, to be honest, I wasn't sure about even then). I was relieved that my mother decided to have Ralph help with cleanup, and I was allowed to go to my room. I told Mom and Dad I was writing a paper which was due Monday. In fact, I just wanted to get away. I wanted a little time to become more familiar with my new self so I wouldn't cringe every time my Mom called me "honey" or my Dad called me "princess." I have started and erased this section of my narrative a dozen times. It's difficult to put into words what happened to me that evening. Everything previous to my examination can be stated as hard fact, but that evening, changes began in me which were psychological. For the first time, alone in my room, I was forced to come to grips with the fact that I was going to be a girl for the rest of my life, with all the likely details that would include. I started by actually trying to write a paper which was due on Monday. It wasn't much of a paper. It was just a little three page paper on the life of Julius Caesar for history, and I was able to knock out a page of it before my mind started straying. The changes which had been forced on me were causing me to look at things differently. As I wrote the paper, I found myself wondering less about the life of Caesar and more about what his wife must have been like. I began to think of Caesar not as brave and powerful, but as handsome and strong. In my mind, he began to look more and more like Dave. Frustrated, I saved the single page to a floppy and decided to get ready for bed. I rummaged around in my drawers cringing at each new feminine item I found. I was looking for pajamas, but Paula, it seemed, wore only nighties. I selected one which I thought would be a little less feminine than some of the others. It was cream colored and not too soft, but I was disappointed when I put it on, for it seemed to irritate my newly enlarged nipples. I was forced to settle on a very satiny nightie in a rose pink. I flushed with embarrassment as I put it on, but at least my nipples felt okay again. Without thinking, I selected a matching pair of pink satin panties and put them on. With a start, I realized what I had done, and how natural it had felt. Shaking, I climbed into bed and pulled the covers up far enough, I hoped, to disappear from the world. I awaked slowly the next morning, aware only that I had had vivid dreams in the night. I couldn't remember what they were; only that they were..... different. As I began to awaken, I remembered what had been done to me on the previous day. I wanted that to have been the dream, but I knew it wasn't. I knew I was a girl because I could feel everything. I could feel the weight of my breasts on my chest and the rounded padding of my new hips. I could feel the silkiness of my nightie, and I could feel the long, brown hair, disheveled from a night of restless sleep. I got up to take a shower. I stripped off the nightie in front of the mirror in the bathroom and stared at myself. I felt a dozen different emotions - fear and panic among them, as well as a sense of unreality. But the emotion which bothered me the most was an odd desire to be held, and when that emotion rose to the surface, my overtaxed mind provided a picture of Dave. I decided the best thing to do for my own sanity was to get my shower and get dressed as quickly as possible. My first shower in female form was easier than I had thought. I carefully avoided any unnecessary touching of my breasts or the space between my legs. I gently shaved under my arms and shaved my legs as Cindy had taught me the day before. I found it easier than I would have imagined. I had more trouble washing my hair, which now hung below my shoulders. I thought I would run out of hot water before I managed to get all of the soap out of it. Besides, I thought I would gag from the herbal smell of feminine shampoo. I spent what seemed like hours drying my hair. Then I managed to but on as plain a bra and panties as I could find, along with a unisex sweatshirt and jeans. Athletic socks and shoes finished off my wardrobe, and I actually felt almost normal. Dad had already left for work, and Ralph was hiking with some friends from school, so it was just Mom and I at the breakfast table. "Paula!" she scolded as I walked into the kitchen. "You should see yourself!" "What's wrong?" I asked, suddenly alarmed. Had I made a major error already? "What's wrong?" she echoed. "You should look in the mirror. Your hair isn't brushed well. You're not wearing any makeup, and you don't have on any earrings. Also, in that outfit, you look like your brother." I almost blurted out that I really did wish I looked like my brother, but I remembered who I was and replied, "But, Mom, it's not a school day. Who's going to see me?" "How about Dave Marshall?" she asked with a knowing smile. "What?" "He called while you were in the shower. He wanted to come by in about an half hour, and I told him you'd be happy to see him. That was about an half hour ago." "Oh, my God!" I bolted from the kitchen, running toward my room. I realized even as I ran up the stairs two at a time that what I was doing didn't make any sense to my male mind. I was acting instinctively, letting my new female hormones think for me. All that was running through my newly pretty head was "I can't let him see me like this!" Once I reached my room, my masculine mind began to reassert itself. I could hide out in my room, I told myself. But the mind was no match for my new hormones. Just as many males are accused of "thinking with their dicks," I seemed doomed to think with the new parts of my anatomy. With instincts I didn't know I had, I dressed quickly in a short denim skirt and pale blue knitted blouse. I was also in pantyhose and a pair of black shoes with a small heel - casual, but just enough to be sexy. I carefully combed my hair and applied the last of my makeup just as the doorbell rang. I was relieved I had gotten ready so quickly, but with the pressure of getting ready out of the way, my male mind screamed "What are you doing?" It's hard to explain what happened. The witches had put a spell on me to be attracted to Dave, so whenever he was around (or on his way over), I was doomed to be the sweet little girlfriend. When I saw Dave at the front door talking with my mother, a small wave of nostalgia passed over me as I remembered the fun Dave and I had together when I was male. As quickly as the thoughts came up, they were overtaken by the thought of how great it would be to touch him... "Hi, Paula," he called cheerfully, practically causing me to melt on the stairs. "Hi, Dave," I responded with a tone that spoke volumes to Dave about how I felt about him. Without thinking, I reached out and took his hand. I felt a warm glow as he wrapped his larger hand around mine. When we were younger, Dave and I used to arm wrestle, so I knew that my hand - my old hand - was about the same size as his. Now, my hand and his were a study in contrast. Mine were much smaller, and the pointed red nails seemed to shout femininity. "You want to go to the mall and maybe see a movie?" he asked. I smiled. I would have walked to hell with him. "Sure that sounds like fun. Is it okay, Mom?" My mother smiled a softer smile than I could remember as Paul. "Of course, dear." As we started out the door, my mother called, "Paula, you forgot your purse!" Oh, right, I thought. There was one more problem with being a girl. I would have to carry a purse wherever I went. So far, the only positive thing about being a girl was being with Dave, and a rational corner of my mind realized that my attraction to him was artificially induced. As we rode to the mall in Dave's car, I started to realize that it didn't matter that the attraction had been artificially induced. Attraction was attraction. I found myself laughing easily at his jokes and sneaking peaks at his body. I felt warm and happy and... safe with Dave. At the mall, we ran into Cindy and a couple of other girls. They all said "Hi" to me as if we were old friends, but except for Cindy, I barely knew the other two girls. Of course, that was as Paul. As Paula, I was one of them - a cute girl. Cindy gave me a knowing wink and said, "Paula, call me when you get home. It's important." Dave and I strolled around the mall, hand in hand. It should have felt odd, but it didn't. A day before, it would have seemed very queer, but given who I was now, it was very enjoyable. I tried to fight the feelings I was experiencing; honest I did. But the spell had worked all too well. I might still like football and miss my former life, but I had Dave. "Not interested in anything?" Dave asked. "What do you mean?" I asked cautiously. "Well, you've passed at least half a dozen clothing stores and haven't dragged me into any of them. Usually, you want to try on everything in the mall." So that's the kind of a girl I was. I was a clothes horse. "I guess I'm just not feeling like myself," I replied, chuckling inwardly at my private joke. "Do you feel okay?" he asked solicitously. I thought about that for a moment. Yes, I did feel okay. Deep down, I felt as good as I did when I was Paul. The clothes felt a little odd, but not unpleasant. My long hair tickled a little, and I didn't think I would ever get used to the taste of lipstick, but I felt okay. "Sure." He smiled and we headed toward the movie. I don't really remember much about the movie. It was one of those innocuous Jim Carey movies where he makes a perfect ass of himself, but I was too busy thinking about what was happening to me to concentrate on the movie. Also, I had to content with the new feelings I had for Dave. I knew they had been artificially induced, but that didn't make them any less real. I felt a tingle in all my new places when he put his arm around me and held me closely. Most of my first date as a girl is a blur. After the movie, Dave drove me home. "See you tonight? There's going to be a party at Jim's place. His parents are out of town." "Sure," I replied without a thought. "Great. I'll pick you up at seven." With that he gave me a long, hard kiss that literally took away my breath. In that moment, I would have done anything for him. I walked into the house as Dave drove away, almost in a trance. In spite of what had happened to me, I couldn't have been happier. All I could think of was Dave and how I needed to be a sexy as possible for our date that evening. "Is that you, Paula?" my mother called. "Yes, Mom!" I replied, and I really meant it. It was me - Paula. "Honey, Cindy called and wants you to call her." That's right, I thought. Cindy told me to call her. She said it was important. I would have to do that right away. She answered on the second ring. "Oh, hi, Paula." "So what's so important?" "I just wanted to see if you wanted to double date tonight." "I guess so," I said uncertainly. "Dave asked me to Jim's party. Is that where you guys are going?" "Of course, silly! Everybody knows about Jim's party." Actually, I hadn't known about Jim's party before my change. Jim was part of a sort of wild crowd. With his parents out of town, I suddenly realized this was not going to be the bobbing for apples kind of party. There would be liquor there and I would have to be careful. I didn't drink, and I was sure this new body wasn't used to alcohol either. I must have hesitated too long, because Cindy said suddenly, "Oh, come on! You have to go with us. It'll be fun. Besides, you need someone to help you get ready." "What do you mean?" "I mean you can't go looking like you do now. You need to look really sexy for Dave. It's almost five. When is Dave picking you up?" "At seven." "That doesn't give us much time. We'll get you an outfit from your closet and we can go over to my place to get ready." Before I could stop her, she was in my closet. She pulled a couple of outfits off the hangers and said, "Let's go." I had no choice but to follow her. I was going to the party with Dave, and because of the spell, I wanted to look really sexy for Dave. I couldn't do this alone, so Cindy was going to be a great help to me. We raided the refrigerator at her house and polished off a leftover chef's salad. My new body didn't seem to need as much food, so the salad was just the right amount. I found myself starting to like Cindy. Unlike the witches who had done this to me, Cindy seemed to accept me as a girl and acted as if she wanted to be my friend. "Cindy," I started, "I want you to know I appreciate your help in getting me through this." She smiled and replied, "I'm glad to help. I liked you as Paul, and I know I'm going to like you as Paula. I didn't want them to do this to you." "Then why did you help them?" She sighed. "I have an aunt back in Boston who is a witch. She's a really good person; not like Ms. Lester and Ms. Hammond. They know my aunt, though, so they asked me to help them. At first it was fun. Guys like Mr. Breen and Chet Hernandez have always been real pigs, so it seemed right to change them. Then, they started getting carried away." "But they said you were the newest member of the coven," I pointed out. "Paula, wake up!" she cried in exasperation. "What else can I do? You know, it isn't just boys they can change. If I defied them, they could change me into the school slut or God only knows what else. I'm either with them or I'm against them." "It sounds to me as if you're with them," I challenged. "You seemed happy enough when they changed me into a girl." She frowned. "For your information, Miss, I don't think of being a girl as a punishment. Once you get used to it, you'll feel the same way. Besides, considering some of the other things they could have done to you, this isn't so bad, is it?" I didn't reply because I didn't have a good answer. As a girl, a lot of things I had always enjoyed were denied me. I couldn't play football again. I would never know what it was like to have sex as a man. I mean, sure, I had masturbated. What boy hasn't? But sex would be... different. But no, it wasn't so bad. I was attracted to Dave. Sure, I realized it was the spell, but that didn't take away the pleasure of the attraction. I took a close look at Cindy, and I could see that I had hurt her. Yes, she had helped them, but maybe she didn't have a choice. I felt.... intuitively (oh, my God - you mean there really was such a thing as "feminine intuition?") that she was telling me the truth. I had to let her know how I felt, so I walked over to her and gave her a sisterly hug. She smiled at me, tears in her eyes, and I smiled back, realizing that there were tears in my eyes, too. Damned hormones! "Okay, then," she said at last. "Let's get you ready for the party." I hadn't realized what I had let myself in for. For the past day and a half, I had been wearing nothing but skirts. I found that a little odd; I wondered if that was part of my spell: a strange impulse to wear skirts most of the time. But even wearing the outfits I had been wearing didn't prepare me for the outfit Cindy had picked out for me. The dress was an off white, almost a pale pastel yellow. When I put it on, I realized it was the shortest, tightest thing I had worn yet, with a neckline that practically exposed my ample breasts. The sleeves were long and tight, which somehow made the whole thing even more revealing by drawing attention to my breasts and legs. I felt as if it had been painted onto my butt. My stockings were white, and I carefully slipped on a three inch heel. When I looked in the mirror, I saw that Cindy had done the full number on my face and hair. She had darkened my eyelids to a smoky gray with lilac overtones and outlined my eyes and lengthened my lashes. My lips looked full and dark red, framed by my long brown hair which fell perfectly over my shoulders. She had loaned me a gold bracelet and matching necklace which seemed to draw even more attention to my breasts. "I look like I'm dressed up for the prom," I moaned. "Don't be silly," Cindy scoffed. "You look perfect for one of Jim's parties." "I wouldn't know," I admitted. "I've never been to one of his parties before." Cindy looked stunned. "You haven't? Why not? You're a good looking boy - or at least you were. Didn't you and Jim get along?" "Not really," I told her. "Jim's friends are mostly jocks, and I never fit in with them much." "But Dave was invited." "I know, but Dave and Jim used to live next door to each other. They were friends since elementary school. Also, Dave has always helped Jim with math and science, so they're still friends. I don't think Dave gets along too well with some of Jim's other friends, though. Come to think of it, who are you going with tonight?" Cindy smiled. "Brad Williams." Brad played football, but he was a pretty decent guy. I mentally approved of her choice, and I guess a little smile of mine confirmed it. Cindy got ready quickly and was dressed very much like me, only her dress was black and her stockings were nude, as I was to learn later. "I called Dave," she told me. "I told him to pick you up over here." I gulped. "I thought we were going together. I mean, I thought Brad and Dave and you and I..." Cindy gave me a sisterly hug. "Of course not, silly. I mean, Brad and I will probably want to be alone sometime tonight, and so will you and Dave." "But aren't we double-dating?" "I meant after the party. We won't stay long enough for it to get wild like Jim's parties usually do. I just thought you should spend a little time alone with Dave before the party." I didn't have the guts to ask what "alone" meant. I mean, I liked Dave a lot, even though I didn't exactly have any choice in the matter, but I wasn't ready to have sex with him. I had only been a girl for a day and a half, and deep down, the idea of having sex was more than I could stand. Besides, even if I had been a girl all my life, I was only sixteen. I didn't want to be like some of the slutty girls I knew who, as a boy, I had laughed at for being had by every slick guy in the school. Cindy must have understood my concern, because she hugged me again and said gently, "Look, they made you love Dave, but how you love him is up to you. You don't have to go to bed with him, but you can if you want to." "I don't want to!" "Then don't. If there are any problems, I'll be right there with you." I felt a little better after that, so there was a perky smile on my face when Dave picked me up fifteen minutes later. Dave was dressed up a little, too. He wore a sport coat but no tie. I thought he looked pretty sharp. I found once again that I experienced a thrill just being with him. Even knowing it was the spell the witches put on me didn't lessen my pleasure at being with him. When we reached the party though, my feelings began to change. I felt like a lamb entering a lion's den. As we entered Jim's house, every male eye seemed focused on me, often accompanied by a noticeable leer and a stage whispered comment designed to reach my ears, such as "nice piece of ass!" from Steve Wilcox, the captain of the football team. Dave, to my relief, was ever the gentleman. He whisked me past the worst of the comments, but he couldn't stop them from looking. I felt as if my dress covered nothing, and that they were staring directly at my new breasts as if there was nothing covering them. This was it, I suddenly realized. This was the exact moment that it all soaked in. This was the moment I realized what it was like to be a girl. Much of the party is still a blur in my mind. It was almost like a surrealistic fantasy in which girls would walk up to me with a sisterly greeting of "Hi, Paula," while the boys would walk up to me with eyes surreptitiously darting toward my ample breasts as they greeted me. But all in all, I had a fairly good time during the early part of the party. I managed to nurse a single glass of wine for over an hour. My parents had always let me drink wine at meals with them, so I was familiar with its taste. The single glass allowed me to look like I was in the swing of things without getting out of control. Several couples were dancing, and Dave and I managed to dance with them for a while. The fast dances were no problem, since there isn't a great deal of sex-oriented roles in them. I had to remember to stand still since I wasn't used to heavy gyrations on high heels. But the slow dances were another matter. First of all, I wasn't used to letting someone else lead. And secondly, I found myself getting very hot and bothered when I was so close to Dave. I looked around for Cindy, but she was making all her moves on Brad, so I could barely get her to acknowledge that I was there. After about an hour, the two of them disappeared. Things began to fall apart, though, in the second hour. Chet - now Rachel - Hernandez burst into the party like a sudden storm. She was with Matt Jefferson, our star fullback, and both of them looked very disheveled. It was obvious that they had both been drinking heavily, and we could all guess why none of us had seen them for the last hour. Rachel's provocative moves began to have an effect on some of the jocks who had come to the party alone. Matt had come alone and he had scored. Maybe they could get lucky, too, and being someone else's date wasn't going to protect me from their advances. I began to feel very vulnerable. Dave was busy talking with Jim, and I suddenly realized that several of the more unsavory players on the team were looking in my direction. Suddenly I felt a strong hand on my arm and turned to look directly into the leering face of Bryan Jacobs, one of our defensive ends. "Hey, Babe," he began, "how's about me and you - --" "Let go!" I demanded, frustrated with being too weak to break free, although I have to admit, I might have had trouble breaking free from Bryan even if I was still Paul. "You know you want it," he oozed. As frightened as I was, all I could think of was where he managed to dig up those tired B-movie lines. "I know I don't," I growled, debating as to whether I should kick him in the balls or not. I decided to save that as a last resort, since it would only make him madder. I had never felt in more danger in my life. My body was female, but inside, I felt male rage at what was happening. I began to squirm to get out of his grip, but he held me all the tighter. "Let go," I demanded. "You're hurting me." Bryan gave me a slimy grin. "Aw, come on, Sweetcakes." "Bryan," a stern voice behind me said, "let her go." I turned and saw Dave standing there. He looked solemnly at Bryan without moving. "Take off, pal," Bryan growled. "This is between me and the cunt." I shuddered at the term "cunt." At the same time, I felt an unnatural affection for Dave. He was coming to my rescue! I suddenly saw Jim standing beside Dave, along with Sam Brown and Wally Mitchell, two of the bigger linemen on the team, and Brad Williams, with Cindy gently holding his hand. "Not any more it isn't, Bryan," Jim said menacingly. "I think it's time for you to leave." Bryan looked around for support, but even the most Neanderthal of the players realized that Bryan was out of control. If Bryan had chosen to fight, it would be a short battle. I felt the pressure on my arm lessen reluctantly. Without a word, Bryan hurriedly left the party. Suddenly Dave and I were alone in the crowded room. I looked deeply into the eyes of the boy who had been my best friend until yesterday and realized that I wanted him in me. The thought was a complete shock to me. I was, I was certain, a virgin, and I was only sixteen. I knew that there were sixteen year olds who were sexually active, but as a boy, I hadn't been, and now that I was a girl, I would have to use every ounce of my will power to remain a virgin. I felt a pleasant dampness between my legs, and knew that I would soon have to have sex with Dave. I realized now that the feeling had been building in me all evening. If I had not been distracted by the incident with Bryan, the feeling would have built more slowly, and I would even now be leading Dave to the back seat of his car. "Dave," I managed to whisper with all of my remaining will power, "I need to go home." "Don't worry, Paula," he said to me with concern as he held my hands in his. "Bryan won't bother you any more." I managed a weak smile. "I know, Dave, but I'm a little upset. Would you take me home?" He looked into my pleading eyes for a moment before saying, "Sure. Let's go." I was quiet as he drove me home. I had nearly lost my virginity, and I hadn't been given anything to protect myself. I knew Dave well. He wouldn't have had any protection either. The results could have been devastating. At the door, Dave waited shyly for me to give him a good night kiss. I complied, and I found that I enjoyed it every bit as much as I had that afternoon. Physically, I wanted him to stay with me, but I knew where that would lead, so with a smile, I wished him a good night and slipped into the house. The next day, I went to church with my parents, but I couldn't concentrate much on the service. I kept thinking how Cindy had set me up. She even said she thought Dave and I would want to be alone. And the way she and Brad had disappeared, it was as if she knew what was coming and wanted me to face it on my own. After church, I didn't even bother to change out of the dress and heels I had worn to church, but instead stormed over to Cindy's house. "Wow!" was all Cindy could say when she saw how I looked. Then she noticed the fire in my eyes. "What's wrong, Paula?" "You set me up. That's what's wrong!" I practically yelled at her. "You wanted Dave and I to do it last night." "I did not! I mean, if you two wanted to do it, I guess that's okay, but-" "Then where did you and Brad go? You left me alone with Dave!" Cindy gave me a hard look. "I left you with Dave in a crowded room. I hardly think that qualifies as leaving the two of you alone to do it. Besides, why should I worry about you and Dave? You've only been a girl for a couple of days. I figured you could take care of yourself while Brad and I found someplace to make out for a while." I thought about that for a moment. Cindy knew I would be attracted to Dave. She was there when the spell was put on me. Maybe she really didn't know how much I was going to be attracted to Dave. I had wanted him so badly I could hardly stand it. It took every ounce of willpower I still had to resist making love to him. If he had been just a little more forceful, I wouldn't have resisted. What was I thinking? I was terribly confused. "Wait a minute," Cindy said, seeing tears forming in my eyes. "You really did almost do it with Dave, didn't you?" "Yes!!!" I screamed hysterically. The gravity of the matter seemed to hit Cindy all at once. "When they changed you, they must have expected you to go to bed with Dave. They were trying to force you to do it. I think maybe they wanted you to do it without any protection. That would be a great way to get rid of you once and for all." "What do you mean?" I said, somewhat calmer. "Don't you see? If you and Dave made love and you got pregnant..." Oh my God! I suddenly realized that I could get pregnant. I was a girl now, with all of the right plumbing and everything. "So if I got pregnant, I'd have to drop out of school." "And Dave's a nice guy," Cindy continued. "He'd probably want to do the right thing an marry you. So suddenly, you're a mother to be married to a high school dropout who's had to go to work to support you and the baby." I felt suddenly sick. "Paula, tell me the truth," Cindy said quietly while looking me straight in the eye. "Do you want to go to bed with Dave?" My body practically quivered as I answered, "I want it more than anything else. If he asks me, I'll do it, protection or not. I can't resist again." Cindy hugged me closely, and I realized we had both begun to cry. "My god, Paula," she sobbed. "I never meant for this to happen to you. This isn't right." Holding Cindy, I longed to be male again. The feel of her soft body and the smell of her perfume brought back memories of my male life. But I could do nothing that I wanted to do. It was as if I had two sets of emotions in me at once. The male set wanted Cindy in the worst way, but there was nothing physical to back them up. I felt no stirring of a penis between my legs. Instead, my female body ruled the day. I could love Cindy as a friend, but nothing more. My female emotions were backed up by a strong dose of female hormones which, along with the spell, demanded that I be a normal heterosexual female who was madly in love with her former best friend, Dave Marshall. Reluctantly I pushed myself away from Cindy. We just stared at each other for a few moments before I managed to say softly, "Cindy, what are we going to do?" Cindy shook her head. "It isn't what we're going to do," she said. "It's what I'm going to do. I got you into this mess, and now, I have to get you out of it." "I've really never understood why you've been helping them," I ventured. "At first, it seemed like you were one of them, but now, I'm not sure. Is this just another trick?" "It's no trick," Cindy said forcefully. "Yes, I helped them at first. I was still helping them when they caught you, but now, I feel like I've been on the wrong side." "Why did you help them in the first place?" "Ms. Hammond told you about the coven she formed with Ms. Lester and Mrs. Barney, but they weren't the only members of the group. There were a total of thirteen members in the coven, which is apparently the required number. One of the members was my Aunt Marcie. When Ms. Hammond came here, she looked me up, told me my Aunt had referred her to me, and asked for my help. "At first, it wasn't so bad. Mr. Breen was their first target. He deserved what happened to him, and to be honest, I think he's happier now as Ms. Breen." I couldn't argue with that. Mr. Breen was probably only a leer or two away from a sexual harassment suit which would have ended his teaching career. As Ms. Breen, she would have an honorable career and a chance for happiness. I nodded slightly in skeptical agreement. "Go on," I urged. "Then they went after Chet Hernandez." "I didn't think much of Chet," I admitted, "but he wasn't a bad guy." "Oh, no?" Cindy said with irony. "You just don't know, Paula. Do you know Nancy Bristol?" "Sure," I said. "She's that cute girl on the freshman cheerleading squad." "Well, Chet raped her." "When?" "A few days before Ms. Lester transformed him. Nancy came to her sobbing and told her what happened. Ms. Lester called Chet in, changed him, and in Nancy's mind, the rape never happened. So you see, what they did wasn't all bad." "But what about Mike Clancey?" I asked her. "All Mike did was try to help out the girl's basketball team. Then Ms. Lester decided to turn him into Michelle to be the star forward on her team." "I know," Cindy nodded solemnly. "I was there, remember? That