Retrograde Dreams
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The Retrograde Wish free porn video
The Retrograde Wish
by Pretzelgirl
My name is Jeffery Lindstrom, and I'm an outcast. Or at least that was my
name a few years back. I'm still an outcast, though. But in a different sort
of way. I still know in my mind who I'm supposed to be, but my body
just doesn't match my spirit any longer. Things kind of got out of control
and now I'm not who I should be. But I digress. Let me start at the
beginning.
It all began when my girlfriend, Zoe Burbank, broke up with me. We had
been dating on and off again since the 8th grade. Then suddenly,
sophomore year of high school she wanted nothing more to do with me.
We had both been outcasts. We were outsiders in a preppy teen
environment. I was one of those tall, skinny guys with a bad teenage
goatee dressing in ripped jeans and wearing my hair long, stringy, and a
bit greasy. Nobody understood me. But Zoe somehow knew my angst
and pain. We shared the same taste in wild music. We had read poetry to
one another by candlelight in her parent's garage attic. She was a kind of
girl like no other that I've ever met. She wasn't into silly, frilly girly-stuff.
She didn't hang out at a mall or have a group of cliquish friends. Her
friends were sincere people. Interesting people. People who read fantasy
books and had long conversations about magic. In fact, she had even
started an informal witch's coven earlier that year. I was with her every
step of the way.
Until she dumped me. Suddenly for no reason, her whole attitude towards
life changed. She stopped dressing in all black, with the ripped fishnets
and combat boots. She wore pink lipstick instead of black. She stopped
dying her hair and let it grow out all blonde. She wore pastel clothes and
giggled and tried to flirt with the jocks. She dumped me and dumped all
her other friends. She wasn't Zoe anymore. She wasn't dark and
mysterious. She was some blonde bimbo!
I tried to put up with it, but a few days after she had formally told me to
"find new friends," I couldn't take it any longer. I came up into the attic
one day and surprised her and one of her new friends, Steph Garrison.
"How could you turn your back on all of us, Zoe?" I screamed at her. "Me
and all your other friends stood with you throughout so much stuff, and
then you just stab us in the heart and walk away! You've betrayed us all
... and you broke my heart."
Zoe was surprisingly calm. Her new friend, Steph seemed more agitated
being there than Zoe did, but she still remained for some reason. She and
Zoe exchanged glances and finally Steph spoke to me.
"Jeff, I know how difficult this must be for you," Steph said. "But it
might be for the best. People change and maybe you should change as
well. Find someone new. Someone who appreciates you better. I'm
sorry, but you and Zoe are just not right for one another any longer."
"I don't want anyone new!" I yelled, interrupting her. "And I don't care
for you and the damned way you changed the most beautiful and REAL
girl I've ever known into some kind of cliquish preppie chick!"
"That's not called for," Steph said, with a tone of quiet sadness in her
voice. "There are things you don't understand going on here, Jeff. You'd
better leave."
I turned around, and sucked back bitter tears about this. I so very badly
needed someone to unload on, but there was no way in hell I was about to
let these two girls see me cry. I heard them whispering about something as
I started for the door.
"Wait, Jeff!" Zoe suddenly yelled.
I spun around and faced her.
"I ... I ... I want you to have this before you go," she said, holding out a
small metal ring. "I know it's not much, but it means a lot to me and it's
something that I hope can remind you of me. And of what we once had. I
just need to go through some changes in my life. Maybe there's hope for
us again someday. But for now, I need my space."
I could never resist her eyes. That was what did it. I stared into her deep
blue eyes and I lost myself. I took the ring from her outstretched hand,
turned away quickly, before the tears fell, and I silently walked away.
I spent the evening listening to music in my room, looking at old photos
of Zoe and me, and quietly sobbing about what had been. It wasn't until
that much later that night that I finally took the ring out of my pocket again
and got a good look at it. It was small circle of a strange blue metal with
tiny etchings on the inside curve in a foreign language I didn't recognize.
Other than that, there was really nothing remarkable about it. But it was
something from Zoe and held a lot of meaning to me now. I slipped it on
my finger.
In that moment, there was a sudden whooshing sound from all around
me. I looked up and found myself gazing into the face of a blue-skinned,
translucent man made of smoke. A genie of some sort, hovered in front of
me, his torso tapering down into a wisp of smoke, and the silhouette of
my wall showing through his pale blue skin. In a surprisingly soft voice
he spoke to me.
"By wearing the cursed ring that holds me, you have summoned my
powers," he said. "Know that I am of the Djinn and hold power to grant
three wishes to you."
"This is crazy," I muttered under my breath.
"Look at me," he said, bending forward and looking me right in the eye.
"I'm here, aren't I? Isn't this proof enough that I am real and no figment
of your fevered imagination? And if I am real, then consider that my offer
to grant wishes is very real as well. Now, please don't waste more of my
time. I hate going through the 'This can't be happening!' bit every time I
get summoned!"
"I ... I ... I'm sorry," I stammered. "It's just a bit overwhelming. But I
know exactly what I want to wish for. I want Zoe to love me again.
Totally and unconditionally. A true love, that will stand the test of time
and hold up to any trials and tribulations that come our way!"
The genie shook his head and smiled a sad, distant smile at me.
"I strongly recommend against that wish," he said. "I'm sorry I can't say
more at this point, but the burden of my curse prevents me from
explaining myself. Let me just warn you, that you really don't want the
consequences of that wish. Let Zoe go. What you and she had must end
now. It isn't right and it isn't fair. But please trust that a magical being like
myself has access to knowledge about her situation that you don't have.
You really don't want that wish."
"But that's the ONLY thing I want out of life right now!" I cried. "I just
want Zoe back, the way it was!"
"No, child. Please don't wish that," he said. "Wish for more general
things that won't cause any great disturbances for others. Wish for long-
term effects not short-term ones. Wish for slow, gradual changes. And
most importantly, think long and hard before you make your wishes. I
must grant three wishes ... no more and no less. This is the burden of my
curse. But word your wishes carefully ... and begin each with the words
'I wish ...' Only then Can I make things right."
I paused and sat back down on my bed again. Just my luck, I thought. I
get a crazy ethical genie that doesn't want to interfere with the natural
order of things, or some such nonsense. Still, this was a chance to change
my world and my life around. Maybe he was right and it was best I didn't
wish for Zoe back. Maybe I needed to make some changes to my own life
before I could go after Zoe and win her back without any magical aid.
"Okay, I know what I want," I told him. "One, I wish to become a
diligent, hard-working person who might always be able to find good,
honest work." I had a reputation as a bit of a rebellious bum of sorts -- a
trouble-causing rebel without a job. If Zoe was going to change her
attitude, I might as well do the same. Maybe if I grew up a bit I could win
her back.
"Number two, I wish to always have REAL friends in life who appreciate
me for who I am and don't take my friendship for granted." That would
take care of running into any Judas-like betrayers in the future. Being
tossed aside by Zoe had stung pretty deeply, and I didn't want to have to
go through this ever again.
"And three, I wish to someday in the future fall in love truly and
completely with a beautiful girl who loves me back as genuinely and
totally as I love her."
The genie smiled his sad little smile again. "I only wish that I could grant
you those wishes," he said. "But unfortunately, now I have to explain the
remaining aspect of my curse. You see Eris, the goddess of chaos,
discord, and confusion has cursed me to grant wishes not to those who
wished them."
"You mean I won't actually get any wishes?" I exclaimed. "But I actually
put a lot of thought into them and came up with good ones! I don't care
about any strange chaos goddesses. Why do you keep jerking me around
like this?"
"Oh, you'll get wishes," the genie said. "But not the ones you wanted.
The next person to acquire and wear my cursed ring will get YOUR three
wishes. And that person will likely be quite happy with the wise choices
you have made. But you must live with the three wishes of the last person
I dealt with."
"But I don't want THEIR wishes!" I cried. I was at my breaking point
now. First I lost Zoe completely, and now this insane genie was trying to
hoist some other loser's wishes off on me. "Look, just forget the whole
deal and go grant my wishes to someone luckier than me. I'll just stay
with the way things are and learn to cope."
"I wish it were that easy, but it's not." The genie said. "I'm obliged to
force the previous wisher's desires upon you. I'm sorry. I really have no
other choice in the matter. It's the nature of my curse to spread chaos."
"All right, fine!" I roared at him. "Let's just get this over okay? I suppose
the last guy wished for a million dollars, a bevy of baywatch babes, and a
hot car? Well just dump them on me and get lost. I really don't want any
of that or to be reminded about any of this!"
"Those weren't the last wishes," the genie said. "Actually the last wisher
was a former classmate of yours. A girl named Carol Jenner."
"I don't know anyone named Carol Jenner," I said.
"Of course not," the genie replied. "She received the wishes of a man
before her and became a wealthy Wall Street investor named Henry Gage.
She's now a 31-year old multi-millionaire, and all your memories of the
old Carol Jenner have vanished with her."
"This is crazy," I said again.
"Nevertheless, it's true." the genie told me. "And now I really must deal
with your wishes, I'm afraid. To do it properly, the words must come
from your mouth. Again, I'm sorry. Please don't blame me for what is
about to occur. It's beyond my control."
I tried to speak to him, but found I wasn't in control of my mouth any
longer. I could still move my arms and legs and head, but my lips just
moved on their own and the strangest words started coming out of my
mouth.
"Oh, wow!" I found myself saying. "A genie? Okay, I know what I want
to wish for. I'm tired of living the life of Carol Jenner, freaky fat outcast.
I wish I had a slim, sexy figure like Kristi Carlson, and I mean a body that
is comparable to hers in waist, hips, boobs, thighs ... everything! I want a
totally sexy body from the neck down."
"Done," said the genie. I suddenly found my body contorting and shifting
and changing. I looked down and saw a pair of generous breasts suddenly
blossom out from me and weigh heavily on my chest. My clothes were
pretty baggy so I couldn't really tell what else was happening, but I felt
the changes throughout my stomach, crotch and legs. I realized that I must
now have the body of a 16-year old cheerleader of sorts.
"Okay," I heard myself say, in a different, chirpy, more feminine alto
voice. "And I also wish I had long blonde hair instead of this frizzy
mousy hair I'm stuck with. I guess I should've made that part of my first
wish, but I didn't think of it. Is that okay for me to make as a second
wish?"
"Done," said the genie again, and I felt my hair suddenly drop down a
good five or six inches. I glanced into the mirror and saw my own male
face behind a mound of straight, champagne blonde hair cascading over
my now feminine shoulders and a decidedly buxom chest. My old clothes
hung on me like a tent, and I realized I was a good two or three inches
shorter than before. Still my lips continued to move of their own volition
and I watched in the mirror with horrified fascination as a strange girl's
voice came out from my mouth.
"And finally I wish I had a magic way of attracting guys to me, like flies
to honey, so that men find me extra attractive in a way that isn't just
physical and they're not totally conscious of."
After I had said that, I felt physically ill. I couldn't believe the things I had
just wished for. I had totally thrown my life away. Or rather this Carol
Jenner person I had never heard of before had ruined my life for me. She
must've been one of Zoe's old friends, which would explain how Zoe
wound up with this cursed ring after Carol became some stockbroker guy.
But whether this was a twisted revenge or whether Zoe honestly had no
idea this would happen, I didn't know. All I knew now was that I
couldn't be Jeff Lindstrom any more. I looked like a homely 16-year old
girl with a fabulous body and great hair. My face was still my face, but it
looked so very different on this body and behind this hair. No one would
ever believe I was me.
"What am I going to do now?" I demanded, finally having control over
my words again.
"I'm sorry," the genie replied. "I can't grant any more wishes directly to
you, ever again. I can only offer you some advice, and then I must vanish
back into the ring."
"Can I just give the ring to someone and ask them to wish these changes
to be undone?" I asked.
"I'm afraid it's not that easy," the genie said. "Unlike Carol, the wishes
that impacted you didn't erase your old existence from people's memories.
So people will remember Jeff Lindstrom. Because of a condition of my
curse, I can't stay around unless I'm unremembered. The goddess Eris is
a cruel mistress and she watches my actions in spreading entropy to the
world. So I must teleport the ring to a random location and wait to be
discovered now. If you can track me down and warn the next wisher you
may be able to undo much of the damage I've been forced to wrought
upon the world. But the odds of finding me again are extremely slim."
"Then what do I do?" I pleaded, bursting into tears again.
"Adopt a new identity," the genie gently said. "You're lucky that you're
still young. Leave this life behind. There are too many questions here.
Run away to another town and report yourself as a runaway orphan. Make
up a name, a life, and finish school. And be careful of men. Because of
your third wish you'll find yourself with considerable unwanted male
attention!"
With that, the cursed genie, leaving me a very confused girl. I ran to the
mirror, at first not believing what had happened. But gazing back at me
was the face of a longhaired blonde girl with bright blue eyes and a wide,
disbelieving mouth. I didn't know what to do. I was confused. I knew the
genie was right. I couldn't just remain here. In the morning my parents
would check in on me, trying to wake me up. I've always been a deep
sleeper. I couldn't have them wake up this girl I'd become. There was no
way they'd ever believe I was still their son.
So I packed up an old duffel bag with just a few things. I didn't want to
take anything readily identifiable as belonging to Jeffery Lindstrom, or I
knew I'd find myself facing burglary charges or maybe worse if they
caught me. Just a change or two of clothes. Very generic stuff a girl or
guy could wear, though it would all likely be a bit baggy on me, yet.
Some T-shirts, jeans, an extra pair of sneakers, some socks, and some
boxers. It somehow seemed wrong for this body not to be wearing
something more feminine than my old ripped jeans, dirty gym socks, and
boxer shorts. But I wasn't ready to wear skirts and panties at this point,
even if I had any available.
I slipped out the back door and ran into the night. It felt so strange, in the
cold crisp air. Just me in the pale cold glow of streetlights, panting with
chilly puffs of air, even though I wasn't running. I walked briskly along,
nervously spinning my head from side to side at the slightest noise, my
heart racing a mile a minute. I was a nervous wreck. I felt so vulnerable in
this small teenage body. I suddenly feared for my life from the sort of
predators every girl's mother warns her of.
But the streets remained quiet and still. I did my best to put as much
distance between my house and myself. By the time I'd reached the city
limits, dawn was in the air and I felt physically drained by all that had
happened. With a weary sigh, I knew the time had come for me to do the
inevitable: I was going to have to try and hitch a ride out of town. In a
bigger city, I could disappear into a mess of other teen runaways and
orphans. It wasn't a glamorous life, but I couldn't think of what else to
do.
I began walking backwards along the shoulder of the highway, my thumb
stuck out the way they do it in TV and movies. One care passed me ... and
another ... and another. Until finally a truck pulled over. I ran up to the
cab, shivering half with cold and half with terrible anticipation of what
might happen.
The driver, a clean-shaven middle-aged man with a seed company cap,
opened the door and I climbed inside.
"Where do you think you're headed little lady?" he asked, gruffly.
"Well, I kind of ran away from home," I began, still shaking with fear. I
was lying and telling the truth at once, and I felt horrible about it. I was
sure he could see right through me and knew I wasn't really a girl. But I
knew that was only an irrational fear.
"I can't take a runaway anywhere but back to her parents or the police," he
said, serious-faced.
"That's good, because I'm running back home now," I lied. "Life on the
streets is scary and I just want to go home now. Back to Seras Point."
"That's where I'm headed and I'll gladly drop you off there," he said with
a stern smile and started the truck. Once on the road again, I could feel his
eyes darting towards me constantly, and I remembered the third wish I'd
been forced to make.
"You're a very attractive young girl," he said, eyes straight on the road.
"What's your name?"
I sighed internally.
"Jennifer Lindy," I made up on the spot. "And my father is a cop in Seras
Point."
That seemed to keep his mind off of whatever raw sexuality I was exuding
towards men. We chatted socially about various small-talk topics the rest
of the way. I made up a story about how I'd run away because my parents
didn't care for my boyfriend -- basically a rehashing of "Romeo & Juliet."
I told him once I'd run away, my boyfriend had ditched me so I was
going back home. He said that was for the best, and told me about his
wife and four children. By the time we reached Seras Point, he trusted me
and my story enough to just drop me off at a truck stop I told him was
near my "home."
But now I faced a new problem. I was in a strange city, in a strange body,
with no money and no REAL home. Seras Point is about four times the
size of Brookdale, and I just wasn't that familiar with the town. I
wandered for about an hour, until I came to a side street that didn't seem
to busy and housed the loading ramps for several stores. I ducked around
past one of the loading ramps and found a stack of cardboard boxes and
old cargo palettes. And there, exhausted, I curled up in a fetal position,
with my dufflebag under my head and fell fast asleep.
I woke to the harsh sensation of hands groping me. I startled and tried to
jump away, but two scuzzy-looking teenage boys were holding me down,
one pinning my arms and holding my mouth shut and the other had stuck
his hands up my shirt and was feeling me up.
"Dammit, Man! I told you to be fucking quiet and hurry this shit up!" I
heard one say.
"I can't do this under pressure, okay?" the second replied.
"What the fuck did you think? You don't get a chance for foreplay or any
shit. Just bang her and give her to me!" the first said.
I still had my hands free, though my arms were pinned down by the first
of the boys. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my Swiss army
knife. It was pretty dull, but better than nothing. I pulled it out and blindly
stabbed at the boy groping me. He screamed and jumped back.
"Goddamn, man!" He yelled. "She fucking stabbed me. Look! I'm
bleeding; I need tetanus shots and shit! Help me!"
The other boy looked worriedly back and forth between his friend and me,
but continued to hold me pinned down. I still had the knife, but couldn't
reach him with it.
"Will you just shut up," he said as loudly as he could whisper. "You want
to get the cops or some Samaritan in on this?"
"Man, I need first aid!" the other one yelled, and started running off
towards an old beat up car. His buddy looked anxiously back and forth
from me to the car, and suddenly dropped me and took off as well.
I sighed a deep breath and shut my eyes, as I heard the sound of the car
start up and peel out. The experience had been terrifying. I had no idea
until then how sensitive my breasts were ... or how violated and shaken I
would feel after being touched there. I looked around and saw it was early
evening by now. I had somehow found myself in the back alley behind a
Second Hand store. It was a seedy area of town, and I shouldn't have let
myself get here. But now that I was here, I had to get out.
As I stumbled to my feet, I noticed several boxes by the loading ramp and
an item that I never thought I'd need caught my eye: a bra strap poking out
from the top of the box. I glanced around to see if anyone was watching,
then ran towards the box and opened it. Sure enough, someone was
donating a box of old clothes: mainly a lot of bras and underwear. It was
strange, but I felt if I had been wearing a bra maybe I wouldn't have felt it
when that boy had touched me. So I pulled out a rather plain looking
white bra and ducked back behind a box to put it on.
It barely fit. My breasts were enormous melons and I hadn't noticed it
until now. The bra constricted my breathing, but somehow lightened the
load on my back. I probably needed a bigger bra, but all the bras in the
box were the same 34B size. Beggars can't be choosers though, so I
resigned myself to making due with what I could. I stuffed a few pairs of
women's underwear as well as some socks into my dufflebag. I didn't
want to change my underwear here in public, but I figured sooner or later
I would have to start dressing more "girl-like." I also dug around until I
found a pair of bright pink running shoes that fit a lot better than my old
sneakers. I tossed the old sneakers aside, figuring it was a pretty fair
trade. And with that I journeyed on.
Eventually I found a payphone and looked up the address of the nearest
shelter. Fortunately it was nearby. I wandered in there and told them I was
a runaway orphan and needed someplace to start over. They set me up
pretty well. That was two years ago. I've never looked back to see what
happened to my life. There are too many painful memories there. These
days, I live in a halfway house for troubled girls, and I'm finally about to
finish high school here. I'm still having severe problems with a lot of
guys always coming on to me. No one has tried to rape me since, but I get
unwanted stares, whistles, and catcalls wherever I go. And every kid in
school is asking me out. I tried cutting my hair real short and I never wear
makeup. I don't dress provocatively or anything -- just baggy jeans and a
T-shirt like always (though I make a habit of always wearing a bra these
days ... and I've finally learned to put up with at least a pair of white
cotton panties). Being an "orphan" I can't afford spendy clothes anyway,
so no one thinks less of me for dressing a bit scruffy. But still, the men
follow me around like little lost puppy dogs. Even a few of my teachers
have tried to put moves on me as well.
Of course at school they've got me in a uniform, which I don't think helps
any. Knee-length plaid skirt with knee socks and a white cotton blouse.
And with the delicious body I seem to be stuck with these days, I have to
admit that I do look pretty tempting to myself when I look in the mirror. I
do a lot of that ... just stand in front of the mirror and admire my body and
think about what it would be like to be a guy again ... dating a girl like
me!
I have to admit though, some men do look rather appealing to me in my
weaker moments. But surprisingly enough, I'm still mainly attracted to
women. About the only real thrill of this entire ordeal is getting to shower
with a room full of naked, ripe, young female bodies every day in gym
class. Not that I can do anything with any of them ... but a hint of an
electric thrill still courses through me every time I walk into the locker
room. But much as I'd like, I can't get myself into even a lesbian
relationship. That would still be admitting defeat for me. Admitting that
I'm really Jennifer Lindy. And these days I have to keep reminding myself
over and over again that I'm not ... my whole past life as a guy seems like
a dream that's slowly fading away. Some morning I'm not sure if it was
ever real or if I've always lived in this body.
Oh, I know that I could just surrender to the new life I seem to be cursed
to lead. That would be the easy route to take. But I'm not a girl deep down
at heart. Only my body changed. Deep down where it counts, I'm still a
man screaming to be myself again. I hate the look of my pouty lips, bright
blue eyes, and pert little nose. I hate my bright, blonde hair. I hate the
massive mammary mounds mounted to my chest. And I hate the extra
padding I've got on my butt and thighs. But unlike most teenage girls who
hate their bodies, I know that there is a very real way of magically
changing my body. I can be a guy again someday!
But first things first: as soon as I graduate, I intend to go to college
somewhere and get my life out of the gutter. I intend to devote my life to
tracking down that damned ring and it's cursed genie and undo what it's
done to me ... and more than likely countless other innocent people.
(the end)
Mei
- 12.07.2021
- 14
- 0
