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Best Served Cold By Bill Hart Erica stood outside the fence that surrounded the pool. She, like so many others, had gathered to watch the swim team's practice. While most of those gathered cheered and whistled, Erica stood quietly. Her feelings were different. Inside she was seething. Had she been a volcano, there would be an eruption watch in progress. And while she watched, memories of the last few weeks assaulted her. Up until last week, she had been a member of the team that she could now only watch. A valuable member she'd been told, but that was before she'd discovered she was pregnant. And before the coach had taken her aside one day after practice and told her very politely to "take a vacation" for the good of the team. But her anger wasn't directed at the coach. No. It was directed at Derek. Three months ago, Derek had been just another member of the swim team. Not someone overly special. But a lot could and usually did happen in a three month span. Erica fell in love with the tall, handsome, muscular swimmer. And, although her friends tried constantly to warn her about him, she assumed that Derek felt the same way about her. But she'd been wrong. And now, she was pregnant. She had no doubts about the identity of the child's father. But when she'd told Derek she was pregnant with his child, he had laughed at her. His laughter had been like a knife. And although it was obvious that he'd hurt her, he'd continued on, calling her a whore and a bitch. She couldn't remember everything that he'd said to her that day, but the lines "I got what I wanted from our relationship. So you got yourself pregnant. So what. That's life in the big city." stuck out prominently in her memory. Erica had been totally stunned by his cavalier attitude. She wondered how he could he say those things. He loved her, she knew it. But again, she was wrong. She remembered looking up at Derek, hurt written all over her face. He smiled down at her with that cute and mischievous little smile that she had found so endearing. "And don't even think about telling anyone I'm the father." Then he added with absolute disdain. "I'll deny it. And the rest of the guys on the team will back me up. I'll get them all to say you slept with them. You'll be branded a common whore. What do you think about that?" She stared after Derek as he haughtily strode away. Anger grew. She was angrier then she could ever remember being before. At that moment, the love she had been so thoroughly convinced she had felt for Derek was gone. Totally and absolutely gone. Hatred had rooted and taken its place. She wanted him to see him hurt. She wanted to hurt him, just like he'd hurt her. And then, from beside her came a voice jolting her out of her painful memories and returning her to the present. "Perhaps, I can help you." "What?!" exclaimed Erica as she turned toward the voice. She was extremely surprised to look down at a small man. Being shorter than five foot, Erica generally didn't get any opportunities to look _down_ at a full-grown man. "I'd like to help you, Erica, if you'll let me. You want Derek to hurt, just like you hurt. You want to hurt him, just like he hurt you. I can arrange that." "How do you know these things? Who are you?" "How I know these things is unimportant. It is only necessary and sufficient for you to know that I do know _and_ that I can help. As to who I am, you may call me Morfus. Aloysius Morfus. But you, like all my other friends, may call me simply Al or perhaps A, whichever makes you feel most comfortable. You do want revenge against Derek, don't you?" "More than anything, Al. More than anything in the world." beamed Erica. "I thought so. There is a saying among my people 'Revenge is a dish best served cold.' What can be colder than the heart of a woman scorned. And if you truly desire revenge, return to this place at this time tomorrow." "Why not now?" asked Erica. But when she turns, the place where Mr. A. Morfus had just been standing, is vacant. * * * * * Thoughts of revenge were just about the sole thoughts running through Erica's mind over the next twenty-four hours. It was almost as if those thoughts were all that kept her going. She was being driven by her desire for revenge. Revenge was what she wanted. And she'd settle for nothing less. Once again standing outside the fence, she watches as Allison approachs Derek. Her intent is so obvious. Allison is taller - by a least six inches - than she is. And she is a statuesque blonde. Definitely not Derek's type, she thinks. She smiles. But not for long. That knowing smile quickly becomes a frown, as Derek and Allison not only meet, but also kiss. It is a bitter realization that her friends had been right about him all along. Any female is Derek's type, she realizes. Their kiss doesn't last very long. And they aren't acting like a new couple. How long has this been going on, she wonders? And where in hell is Morfus? When Allison leaves the locker room, she spots Erica out by the fence. She strolls out to where Erica stands. Smirking, she says "So, you're finally starting to catch on, short stuff. It's about time." "You bitch..." starts Erica. "You have named her, so she shall be." comes the voice of Morfus from out of thin air. Allison's eyes glaze over. Apparently struck with sudden dizziness, she falls to the ground. And when the dizziness just as quickly passes, she stands up. On her four legs. She looks up at Erica and begins to growl. "Now be a good girl." says Morfus to the collie, scratching her lightly behind the ear. "Erica is your friend. You don't need to growl at her." And with that, Allison's growling ceases, and soon after is replaced by the unmistakeably friendly wagging of her tail. "What did you do to her?" "Merely changed her into a bitch. Just as you named her. Besides, I doubt she would have willingly aided you in getting the revenge you crave. And anyway, I assumed you'd want that pleasure for yourself." And Morfus makes a small arm gesture at Erica. Erica starts to feel funny. Impossibly, her senses tell her she is growing taller. At least six, maybe seven, inches. She feels heavier. Possibly twenty or twenty-five pounds. The red hair that she'd worn in a short pageboy cut for the last several months flows out blonde to the middle of her back. And if she could look into a mirror, she'd see Allison's blue eyes, instead of her green ones, stare back from Allison's face - her new reflection. "You will be the agent of delivery for your revenge. I thought it would be most apropos. Don't you agree?" "Oh, yes. I certainly do." grinned Erica. "But," pointing at the collie, "What about her?" "Don't worry about her. She'll be fine. When I transform you back to your true form, she'll return to normal as well. But she'll have no memory of being a dog." At that moment, Derek, leaving the men's locker room, spots who he believes to be Allison talking with a dwarf who is petting a collie out by the fence. Without even stoping to consider that anything could be wrong, he shouts out in their direction, "Hey, Allie. C'mon." Allison, nee Erica, turns to Morfus. "What am I supposed to do?" she asks. His response is simply "Nothing more than what you have already done." And not giving Derek time to shout again, Erica runs off to join Derek leaving Morfus and the transformed Allison behind. Morfus only smiles, as he watches the couple kiss. Everything is going exactly as planned. Turning to the collie, he says "Of course, Allison, if you should somehow manage to get impregnated before I can change Erica back into Erica, then I'm afraid, you'll have to remain this collie bitch forever." When he looks up, Derek and the transformed Erica are no longer in sight. Once again he gently strokes the collie. In a quiet whisper he says "But then, it won't be so bad being a bitch. After all, it's not much of a change for you. You'll be happy, more or less. You will remember being human, but it won't mean anything to you after a while. And I'm absolutely certain you'll enjoy your estrus cycle, which should be starting... just about _now_." He smiles briefly, then silently vanishes. "What am I supposed to do?" thinks Erica as she and Derek walk across the campus. As they walk, Derek has slipped an arm around her waist. A couple of times, her thoughts have been interrupted as his hand has tried to explore her ass. "Morfus said it's something I've already done. But what?" By the time they reach his apartment, Erica has figured out what she must do. It was really simple - sex. She and Derek had done it here. There was every reason to believe that Allison and Derek had done it here too. And he'd probably done it here with other girls. Besides, his exploring hand, the one that had been busily wandering over her ass, was making her hot and horny. As they enter the apartment, Derek pulls her close. "Hey, babe. How about a quickie before going out to dinner?" "Sounds good to me, stud." replies Erica. "Why don't you go get ready. I'll be with you in a few minutes." "Okay. But don't be too long." She wants to gag, but Derek is just about oblivious to everything other than his lust and doesn't notice. As Erica enters his bedroom, she remembers other times. Nothing looks different. Almost nothing. On his dresser, where her picture used to be, there is now a picture of Allison. She removes her blouse and exposes her braless breasts. "They're huge." she thinks, as she absently begins to fondle one. Then suddenly, she runs to the bathroom, where she knows she'll find a mirror. She stares at her reflection in the mirror. Allison stares back. Erica runs both hands through her blonde hair. She stares at the new contours of her body, then feels the excitement grow as her hands cup one breast, then the other. Then they slide along those shapely new curves. She slips out of her skirt and lets it drop to the floor. Standing naked in front of the mirror, she whispers in awe, "Damn. I'm beautiful." "And how many times have I told you that." says Derek. He had entered the room unnoticed and had added his hands to hers in exploration of her body. "I'm so glad you're finally starting to believe the things I tell you." And he begins to nibble at her neck. "More beautiful than Erica?" she questions. "Infinitely so. Erica is a pretty girl, but you're a beautiful woman. There's no comparison." Derek leads her back to his bed. "And you don't need to be jealous. I've told you over and over that you're the only girl for me." Erica wants to become angry. Derek had told her exactly the same thing. Many times. But for some reason, her anger won't rise. Her body and her senses are overwhelmed in response to Derek's touch. The kneading of her breasts... the caresses of his hands lightly over her body... the sucking of her nipples... the licking of her hot, damp pussy. She just can't become angry. But she is getting hotter and hotter. She, like Derek, is now fueled by uncontrollable lust. For a fleeting moment, she thinks of Morfus. And then, for a time, time itself loses all meaning. Until, without warning, the erotic sensations stop, replaced by Derek's crushing weight. "Derek?" queries Erica hastily. No response. "Quit playing around." she says in a more worried tone. She pushes him off her body. "Damn, he's heavy." she thinks. "Moving two hundred pounds of dead weight around isn't easy." Dead weight? "Shit, Morfus." she speaks to the air. "I didn't want to kill him. Just make him hurt. Damn. I'd better get out of here." It takes almost no time at all for Erica to dress. There's nothing quite like terror to hasten an activity, especially a getaway. And she is undeniably terrified. "What have I done?" she thinks as she flees the apartment. "What have I done?" But then, there's also nothing quite like terror to make someone overlook the perfectly obvious. Derek still breathes. His position had changed slightly, while Erica had been busy dressing. And if she'd a little slower in hurrying out of the room, she might have heard Derek's low moan. * * * * * Warm sunlight streams through the window and over Derek's sleeping form. Slowly he opens his eyes. His mouth feels like it is stuffed with cotton. For a moment, just a fleeting moment, he doesn't know where he is. Then it all comes back. "Where's Allison?" he wonders aloud. "Stupid bitch." As he rises from the bed, he feels odd. His legs hurt a little, but other than that, there's nothing specific, just a general achiness all over. "Did I pull something at practice yesterday?" he wonders. "Or maybe its just a touch of the flu?" After a long, hot shower Derek's aches and pains disappear. He can't remember ever having enjoyed a shower as much as he'd enjoyed this one. When he looks in the mirror, as he always does when exiting the shower stall, he sees himself, just as he has always seen himself. Nothing unusual, except that perhaps his hair is a little longer than normal. "Still can't grab a hold of it, but it looks like I definitely need a trim. Maybe after practice, I'll go to Jack's." And he smiles, as he adds to himself, "Then, there is that cute little brunette working in the shop next door." He opens the medicine cabinet and reaches up for the can of deodorant sitting on the top shelf. Surprisingly, he has to stretch to reach it. While not much of a stretch, its more than he's ever had to do before. But he thinks it unimportant. Derek returns to his bedroom. He needs to get dressed and headed for class. "Next semester, I'll take classes so I can sleep until noon." As he slides on his pants. "How strange. They fit perfectly yesterday. Now they seem to be an inch or so too long and a little loose at the waist. Must have lost some weight." And he tightens his belt a notch. And the sleeves of his shirt are too long. Maybe an inch, give or take. And why does his shirt seem to be too long as he tucks it into his pants. "How strange." he thinks again. "It fit perfectly the last time I wore it. I've never seen clothes _grow_ in the wash before." And he laughs as he adds to himself "Or maybe I just _shrank_ in the shower." And thinking no more about how strange things are, Derek heads for his first class. In his classes, which one doesn't matter since all are much the same, Derek is extremely fidgety. He can't get comfortable. And he jumps at the slightest noise. Something is happening to him. He knows it, but can't put a finger on the problem. And in every class, someone asks him, "Have you shrunk, or something?" Finally, classes are over for the day. Its time for practice. The pool will be his safe haven. "I'll feel better after a good workout." But today is "weigh-in" day. He gets on the scale. "Very good, Derek." says the coach. "You're down twenty pounds. I think one-eighty is a much better weight for you to carry into the season." "One-eighty?" asks Derek. "But just yesterday, the scale read two hundred." "You probably mis-read it. That happens all the time. Now stand still while I check your height." He adjusts the measuring device, then scribbles something in his notebook. He looks at Derek. "Hmm. Most peculiar. According to your records, you're six foot even. Yet I just measured you at five foot, eleven inches. I guess I'll have to correct your records, but I really don't know how anyone could have made such a mistake." "But I _am_ six foot even." he thinks, as Jeff Thompson walks by on his way to the pool. Yesterday, Derek and Jeff stood eye-to-eye. But today, Derek _must_ look up at Jeff. "At least I _was_." * * * * * Practice is a pain. Literally. When it's over, Derek can't remember ever hurting so much in his life. It's as if his every nerve, his every muscle is on fire. He looks at himself in the mirror outside the locker room. Nothing looks different, yet why does he feel this way. Something strange is happening to him. But what? And why? But then his thoughts are interupted. "Derek." comes Allison's voice. "You're alright! I was so worried..." "Where did you go last night, bitch? What in hell did you do to me?" "Me??? To you??? Hell, Derek, you passed out while lapping up my pussy juices just like a kitten laps up milk out of a dish. Surely you can remember that. You've done it so many times before. I was so hot that I didn't even notice when you stopped. Then I had a hell of a time pushing you off me. I was fucking scared. I thought you were dead, that somehow I'd killed you while we were having sex. I got out of your room as fast as I could." "And you didn't call anyone?" "Weren't you listening? I thought you were dead. No matter what I feel about you, I didn't... I couldn't be involved in something like that." "Yeah, right." "You know, Derek," says Erica trying to change the subject. "I think I like your hair longer. It looks good. Funny I didn't notice it last night. And have you shrunk? You really look shorter to me." "What?" questions Derek, as he whirls around and stares into the mirror once again. "My hair is definitely longer." he thinks as he reaches up and grabs a few loose strands between his fingers. "Am I shorter than before?" He turns to Erica. "Why don't you go on home, Allie. I'm not feeling very good. I think I'll go home and take a nap." "Okay. But call me later. Let me know how you are." "Sure." And once he sees Allison turn the corner of the gym, he goes back into the locker room. The weight room is still unlocked. He nervously enters. And steps on scale. He stares in obvious disbelief at his weight. One hundred, sixty pounds. And quickly adjusting the measuring device, he is further chilled as he reads his height. Five foot, ten inches. "What is happening to me? I lost an inch and twenty pounds during practice and nobody even noticed." he wonders aloud. "Not even me." And in obvious panic, he runs out of the weight room. Is that laughter he hears? And he doesn't stop running until he's back in the safety of his room. Breathing heavily, he sprawls out on his bed. And passes out. Once again, sunlight streams through the window. Its warmth wakes Derek. Just like yesterday, his mouth feels like it's stuffed with cotton and his joints and muscles ache. But unlike yesterday, he knows exactly where he is. But he is afraid to open his eyes. He is afraid that something else has changed during the night. "I don't feel any different than usual." he thinks. "I'm just being silly." And just for a moment, he giggles. Then he quickly jumps out of bed and heads for the bath. "Maybe I'll feel better if I soak in the tub for a while." He turns the water on and as the tub starts to fill, he finally turns his gaze to the mirror. He stares at his reflection, which in turn stares back in him. His hair must be an inch long now. It covers his ears. He reaches up and grabs a raven-colored lock. He is relieved - if relief is what he truly feels - that it's not changing color. But his face looks different somehow. He feels his face. It's smooth. He has never had much facial hair, but now, he has none. But the face is still unmistakeably Derek's, but yet still different. And then the difference dawns on him. It's his eyes. They're green. Up until last night, they'd been brown. And he's shorter. "I'd guess I lost another inch." he thinks. "And maybe another twenty pounds. I won't know for sure until after practice." He looks at the tub, then sticks his hand into the water. It is just perfect. After turning off the water, he slips into the tub. And relaxes. "Damn." he sighs. "This feels so good. I wonder why I've always preferred showers before." Then he slides deeper into the tub. He feels as if he's floating. While he floats, the warmth of the water continues to unwind his muscles until his aches and pains are gone and forgotten. Moments, or perhaps hours, later, Derek rises from the tub. Except for some tenderness he feels as he wipes the towel across his chest, he feels great. He looks in the mirror. There have been no more changes. At least none of which he is aware. He looks down at his penis, which looks larger than before. "This is small price to pay." he thinks. "Become a smaller _man_ and be endowed with a larger _manhood_ in return." he giggles. When he regains control from his bout with the giggles, he dresses and gets ready for class. Fortunately, the baggy look is in. None of his clothes fit any more. After all, they're for someone three inches taller and sixty pounds heavier than who he is now. In each of his classes, everything is the same as it was the day before. He fidgets nervously in his seat. He can't find a comfortable position. And with every little noise he jumps. But not everything is the same. There is one thing different. No one has asked him "Have you shrunk, or something?" No one at all. * * * * * As Derek enters the locker room, the coach calls out "Derek. Would you meet me in the weight room after you change?" "Sure. Be there in a couple of minutes, coach." And a couple of minutes later, Derek enters the weight room. "Derek, we need to clarify and, if necessary, do some corrections on your records." the coach tells him. "I'm sure you'll remember those problems from yesterday. Now, if you'll step up on the scale, we'll weigh you, check your height, and send you off to practice." "Yes, coach." Derek steps on scale, and reads one hundred, thirty pounds. The coach adjusts the measuring device. Derek winces as he reads his height - five foot, eight inches. He's shrunk another inch, lost another ten pounds. Strange and inexplicable things are still happening to him. "Why is this happening to me?" he thinks. And then the coach adds to his confusion. "Well, Derek, it looks like we really don't have a problem after all. Your height and weight match your records almost exactly. Looks like I made the mistake yesterday. I don't know how I could have made that kind of mistake. Now, you'd better go out and rejoin practice." "Yes, coach." responds an obviously confused Derek. * * * * * Like yesterday, practice was a pain. He aches. And he is tired. Almost exhausted. He feels peculiar. He remembers seeing Allison during practice. He could swear that she looked happy about the changes she saw in him. Was she really? If she was, why? Or is he more simply, just being paranoid? He looks at the mirror on the wall. Nothing looks different. At least not much different. He reaches up and pokes at his tender chest. Under each nipple is a small nub. They had not been there this morning. Hurriedly he slips on his pants, then the sweatshirt he keeps in his locker. But the sweatshirt rubs against his tender nipples. At first, it's an irritating feeling, but then the sensations unexpectedly turn pleasant. When he looks back in the mirror, he sees two very small, very unfamiliar, bumps pushing out from under his sweatshirt, as well as that old familiar bulge in the crotch of his pants. "I've got to get out of here. Maybe I can get something at the store that will help. I must have some kind of flu." * * * * * The distance from the locker rooms to the campus store isn't far, but to Derek the walk seems to take an eternity. Along the way, he sees several pretty co-eds. But as he looks at them, he doesn't see them in the same way he has always seen them in the past. Instead, he notices how they are dressed, how they wear their makeup, and how their hair is styled. When he finally reaches the store, he's surprised, but glad, at how empty the store is. He wants to buy some aspirin and go home. But he is compelled instead to go to the makeup counter. "Is there something I can help you with, miss." comes a woman's voice. Derek turns quickly towards the voice. As he does, his hair swings free, then comes to rest on his shoulders. "I'm just looking." he replies, while thinking "Is that my voice? It doesn't sounds right." "Okay. But if you need some help or have any questions, let me know." "Sure." Sitting on the counter is a hand mirror. He picks it and looks at his reflection. The jet black hair framing his face looks silky and its shoulder length frames his face. "Amazing." he thinks. "If I _were_ a girl, like that salesgirl thinks, I think I'd actually look pretty." But even more amazingly, he doesn't react to the thought. He returns the mirror to the counter, then looks at his hands. They look smoother than before. His fingers look longer and more slender. And as he stares entranced, his fingernails grow, taking on a finely manicured shape as they do. "This isn't possible." he half whispers. "I'm a man." And as if to prove his assertation, even if only to himself, he slips a hand down to his crotch. "It's still there." he sighs in relief. And it still reacts to his touch. It becomes hard and erect. But in the meantime, his other hand has slid up to his chest. Where they are. And they begin to react to his touch. Even though they are small, they become hard and erect. Both fear and excitement grip Derek as his erotic sensations spread up from his groin and down from his tiny breasts, then merge. "What if they see me? Ohhhh!" Then slowly the eroticism that has charged his body begins to fade. He stands, almost breathless, looking around. He is confident no one has seen him, once again glad there were few customers in the store. "What the hell is happening to me? I've got to get out of here. I'll get the aspirin I came in for, then head for home." Once in the section where the painkillers are shelved, Derek absently picks up a box. He doesn't recognize the brand name, but he definitely knows that its contents are exactly what he needs. At the cash register is a young man, most likely another student. As he approaches the register, Derek, without even realizing it, smiles pleasantly. "Will that be all, miss?" asks the young man as he scans the box. "Yes." answers Derek curtly. "That'll be $6.44, please." Derek hands him seven one dollar bills. The young man puts the bills in the register, then counts out Derek's change. He puts the box, along with the receipt, into a small plastic bag. He hands it and the change to Derek. "Have a nice evening." he smiles. "Yeah. Sure." "You know, she's kind of cute. Don't you think so?" asks the checker at the next register after Derek has left the store. "Maybe. But she seems a little too bitchy for my taste. But then, judging from what she bought, maybe her disposition will improve when she gets off the rag." * * * * * After hurrying home, Derek rushes into his bathroom. He stands in front of the mirror, staring, but not believing what he sees, at his reflection. "This is impossible." he thinks. He watches as his reflection brushes a strand of shoulder length ebony hair away from its face with its long, slender feminine fingers. "I look like an effeminate little boy." he growls, not noticing the shift of voice up an octave. "It's no wonder that dumb ass in the store called me miss." As he continues to stare at his reflection, he feels a compulsion to remove his clothes. As he strips, each item of clothing is simply dropped to the floor. It takes only a few minutes before Derek stands naked in front of the mirror. He cannot take his eyes from his reflection. It has silky, shoulder length hair that nicely frames its face... Its eyes are green... its face is smooth... its fingers are long and slender... it has a slight indentation at its waist... its legs are hairless... it has two tiny breasts... and it has a cock. "I am not an effeminate boy." he says aloud. "With the exception of my cock and balls, I am a pubescent girl. Shit!! What's happening to me? This has got to be a fucking nightmare." He opens the box of "aspirin" and finds that the bottle has a child proof cap. With his long nails, it is a struggle to remove the cap, but, finally to his relief, it pops off. Six capsules are removed from the bottle. Six capsules are swallowed. "No one ever OD's on aspirin." he thinks. He gets into bed and pulls the covers up. He shivers. Is the cold? Or is it fear? Sleep is fitful. Dreams are strange. And erotic. In one, there are a countless number of women waiting in a line. They lay on their backs, legs spread wide, eagerly anticipating their penetration by Derek's pole. But when he tries to take the first in line, he is suddenly at the end of the line - laying on his back with his legs spread wide, anticipating his own penetration. He rolls over, still asleep. His dream changes. There is a woman with impossibly large breasts. He suckles on her enormous mammaries. In return, she begins to suck on his tiny male nipples. As she does, his breasts expand and hers deflate. When they pull apart, her chest is flat, while he is the one with the impossibly large breasts. Another roll. Another dream. There is a woman. She is gorgeous. As he is lustily screwing this fantasy woman, he is suddenly surprised to find himself being screwed. By a man. As the dream continues, it is _his_ climax that hastens _his_ scream of pleasure. It is _his_ orgasm that wakes him up. * * * * * It is several minutes before Derek can compose himself. As he slowly gets out of bed, he finds himself staring at his reflection in the full-length mirror now hanging on the wall. He wonders "Where did this mirror come from? It was never here before." But it is a thought that quickly disappears. The mirror is unimportant. Only his reflection is important. Only his reflection commands his attention. In its face, he can still recognize himself, but it is definitely a female face - a pretty girl's face. Its silky, jet-black hair still frames its face but it has grown longer - at least six inches - than the shoulder-length it was last night. In its green eyes, he sees hints of a woman's desires. Its hips jut out like shelves. Its waist has narrowed considerably. And its breasts are larger. "A C-cup." he thinks, as he watches its feminine hands cup one of its breasts. "How the hell did I know that!" he gasps. Suddenly, he looks down at the crotch of his reflection. "Thank God! It's still there. Without it, I'd be a girl." Then, without warning, comes a voice. "I see that your new form is shaping up quite nicely, Derek." As Derek turns in the direction of the voice, he is shocked to see a dwarf standing behind him. "What? Who are you? What are you doing in my room?" "My name is Morfus. And I am here to check on the progress of my handiwork. After all, you owe your current form to me. Although I must admit that I expected you to be further along than you are." "What? Why?" "You really should be farther along than a pretty girl, Derek. By now, you should appear to be an incredibly sexy woman. I can only imagine, that your out-of-date male plumbing that still hangs between your legs interferes with the spell. You and she must have done something different from what I'd expected, because it should have been one of the first things replaced. "As to why. You could say I'm righting an injustice. However, I doubt you'd agree. To be honest, you really should ask her 'why' instead of me. I'm only the agent of your change not its _raison d'etre_. But then, if she were here, I'd imagine you wouldn't have to ask the question." "She??" Morfus snaps his finger. A familiar girl appears. "Allison!" exclaims Derek. "Only a facsimile." replies Morfus. "She is not as she appears." Morfus makes a small gesture with his hand. Allison is gone. Replaced by... "Erica!" "So you do remember me. I thought you might have forgotten me. You know, Derek, you really do make a pretty girl. It's a such shame you have to ruin it, by having that dick between your legs." "But we're not finished yet, Erica. He hasn't truly hurt yet. Not like you did. Have you, Derek? Now, look at me." As Erica watches, Derek turns and faces Morfus. Morfus gestures. Derek's manhood stiffens. Morfus grabs Derek's engorged phallus. And quickly yanks. Erica gasps. She expects Derek to scream in pain. But he doesn't. Instead, there is only an audible pop, as if a cork were pulled from a champagne bottle. And it is joined, by the sound of escaping air - like that of a deflating balloon. Once again, Derek's body begins to change. In the reflection of the mirror, Derek sees _her_ shapely feminine form. _Her_ full-bodied DD-cup breasts. _Her_ newly formed vagina. _Her_ long, black hair. It flows to the middle of _her_ back. And it tickles _her_ nipples, where it flows over and covers _her_ breasts. _She_ looks nothing like Derek. "I'm beautiful." says an awe-struck Derek. "Yes. You certainly are." replies an equally amazed Erica. "In fact, quite beautiful." adds Morfus. "Although I believe you need a new name. Calling you Derek seems somewhat incongruous given your new form. I believe I'll call you Dera from now on. For it is Dera, who now controls this body. And it is Derek, who is now constrained to only watch. "And now, one last thing remains. Under normal circumstances, Erica, I would transform you for this part of your revenge. But you are with child. And since I may not harm an innocent, and this change, unlike your change into Allison, would be detrimental, possibly fatal, to the child, I will undertake the transformation in your stead." Placing his hands on Erica's hips, Morfus whispers a single word. It is a word unheard by Erica, but its results are plainly visible. Morfus begins to grow. In minutes, the dwarf is as tall as Erica. As his hair grows out to pageboy length, it reddens. His eyes turn green. His waist narrows. His breasts expand. Morfus, now a pretty girl, stands eye-to-eye with Erica. "Why?" she asks. "In order to take the transformation intended for you, I must be you." "But you're so pretty." says Erica, who has never before seen herself in the way others have seen her. "As are you, my dear. Not all of your friends and acquaintances are as self-serving as Derek. When they tell you, you're pretty, you should believe them. It is the simple truth." Morfus walks silently to the dresser, where Derek's cock and balls lie. Picking them up, he holds them to his vagina and gently pushes. As if they belong, they stay in place, as he raises his arms to shoulder height. "Now. Let the transformation commence." Erica watches intently as Morfus, now her identical twin, begins to change once again. Morfus grows taller - he now towers over Erica. He must be close to six and a half feet tall. Breasts flatten, then shift into a heavily muscled chest. Hair turns brown, but retains the pageboy cut. His is a handsome, masculine face. As Erica continues to stare, she begins to feel the stirrings of lust for this man... this god. She doesn't notice Dera stop preening in front of the mirror. Or her silent approach towards the man. Dera, her breasts heaving, stares at the man. Her lust for him increases, as she comes ever nearer. "Ah, lovely Dera." says Morfus as he gently lifts her chin. "I can sense _your_ lust for me, just as I can sense Derek's fear of me. Such a wonderful antithesis of emotion." Dera smiles at Morfus. It is a smile that Erica knows well. It is Derek's mischievous smile. The one she used to love. It still looks mischievous, in spite of the fact that Dera controls the actions of their body. And it is Derek who must be content to only watch. And watch is all that Derek can do, as Dera and Morfus passionately kiss. He is revolted by Morfus' probing tongue in what he perceives to be his mouth. But Dera's excitement grows. Morfus picks up the girl and carries her to the bed. While laying her down on the bed, he can sense Derek's desperate need to escape, just as he can sense Dera's overwhelming desires. He joins her on the bed. He caresses the contours of her body. His member stiffens. She grows more and more excited. Her slit moistens. It is time, both think. Her back arches forward as her legs spread wide. He slowly enters her. Then again. And again, with ever quickening strokes. They orgasm as if they were one. Dera screams out in joyous pleasure. And joining with her, Derek screams out in frightful agony. As Morfus rises from the bed, he looks back at the girl with whom he has just lain. "Now, Dera, you and Erica have something else in common, besides your gender. Impending motherhood." "What?" "You're pregnant, Dera. Just like you left Erica, Derek. And in a few minutes, I'll be leaving you, Dera, never to return." "Why?" asks Dera as she begins to weep. "You said you loved me." "It is what must be. You must hurt, just like Erica hurt." "That's not fair!" exclaims Erica. "Dera never hurt me. Derek was the one I wanted to see hurt, not her." "But they are one and the same." replies Morfus. "Whatever Dera feels, Derek feels. If Dera hurts, then Derek hurts. Besides, she'd best get used to the feeling." "What are you talking about?" Morfus gestures at Dera. She yawns. She langourously stretches out on the bed. Soon, she is blissfully asleep. "She shouldn't hear about her future." he explains. "After her child is born, she will give it up for adoption. Then she will seek out another relationship with a man similar to Derek. He will tell her he loves her, take her to bed, impregnate her, and leave her. And the cycle will then repeat." "Forever?? That's cruel." "No more cruel, then what he's done to you, not to mention a number of other women. But it need not be forever. She can escape by breaking the cycle. Or in twenty years, during which neither of you will age, you can decide to end the spell yourself. In either event, Dera will remain and Derek will be totally and completely gone." Morfus snaps his fingers. He is once again his dwarvish self. "This room needs some work." And Morfus makes a wide sweeping gesture. The room changes. It is an extremely feminine room. Closets are packed with female clothes. The top of the dresser is covered in cosmetics. And in one of the twin beds, Dera peacefully sleeps. "Why two beds?" asks Erica. "I thought she might like a friend. Interested?" "Maybe." "Would you like your body? Or would you prefer Allison's body?" "I thought you said that Allison would become herself again, when I resumed my true form." "That I did." replies Morfus, all smiles. "And she would have, except I must have made some error casting the spell. It seems that the collie bitch she became was impregnated by a Great Dane. As a result, she'll have to remain that bitch for a couple of centuries or so. But she'll love it." Warily, Erica says "I think I'll remain me. It's who I am, and who I was meant to be." "Very good." And Morfus slowly fades away. "Was it a dream?" whispers Erica. But its reality is too easily proven. One look in the bed where Dera sleeps is all the confirmation required. Suddenly sleepy, Erica yawns. She curls up on _her_ bed. Within moments, she is asleep. THE END