Give Me Some Sugar Part 1 Rochelles Tryout
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New You
by Rebecca Poole
Birds sang in the tree outside the window, stealing Becky's attention
away from her studies. Dreamily, she stared out the window at the birds.
How wonderful it must be to be a bird she thought. The loud slap of a
wooden ruler on her desk snapped her back to reality.
"Miss Poole," scolded Miss Abercrombie, Becky's crone of a teacher,
"what sort of djini do you think you will be if you continue to stare out
the window instead of concentrating on your studies?" Sniggering
laughter issued forth from Becky's classmates. This wasn't the first time
that she had been caught daydreaming in class. Becky shot them all a
withering glance before sheepishly looking up at her teacher.
"I'm sorry, Miss Abercrombie, it won't happen again." The crone just
shook her head and went back to her lecture. Becky tried her hardest to
pay attention, but the day was far too beautiful to be stuck in class.
An idea struck and Becky casually reached into the black leather bag that
served as the focus for much of her magic. Many times she's been
berated by classmate and teacher alike for not moving on past that
particular crutch. Even Becky's guidance counselor had urged her to get
rid of the tired old magic bag but she just couldn't bring herself to get rid
of it. Clutching the bag with one hand, Becky brought out a small bit of
bird seed and put it into her mouth. The seeds were bitter, but she
chewed them nonetheless and quickly felt the magic wash over her body.
Before Miss Abercrombie even realized it, Becky, now a bright red finch
had flown out the open window, a tiny black bag clutched in her claws.
"Rebecca Poole! You come back here this instant young lady!" Old lady
Abercrombie's face was a shade of red only slightly deeper than Becky's
feathers. The last thing Becky heard as she flew away from the school
into the mountains was the crone shouting something about her
permanent record.
High school sucked. At least the social part of it did for Tommy
Wormer. Tommy had been excited when his family had moved across
country right after he'd completed junior high. "I'm gonna be a whole
different person in a whole different place," Tommy had told himself.
Junior high had been hell for poor Tommy. He seemed to be perpetually
smaller and weaker than everyone, he had a very bad case of acne, and
his voice seemed to be having a hard time finding its adult pitch. In
general, Tommy had been the stereo typical whipping boy for every
bully for miles around. His new high school soon proved to be no
different than his old junior high.
"Hey, Wormy!" Tommy cringed and the sound of the nickname he'd
been saddled with for years. He often marveled at the way bullies all
seemed to be of the same wit. The voice had been that of Mike Stinson,
the biggest, ugliest, meanest jock in school. Mike was followed closely
by his two toadies, Jay Parker and Rick McDean. The three seemed to
be attached by some unseen bond as they were seldom far from each
other.
Tommy sighed and turned toward the voice, steeling himself for what he
knew was coming. "What can I do for you, Mike?" As always, he tried
to be as nice as possible to the bully, never realizing that was exactly the
kind of submission that drove them onward.
Mike's beefy hand came down on Tommy's shoulder and began
squeezing, eliciting a shrill shriek from Tommy and a pleased rumble of
a chuckle from Mike. "What you can do for me, Wormy," Mike began
as he pulled Tommy's face close to his, "is you can rot in here." Mike
banged his fist on a bright green locker, popping the door open. Before
long, Tommy found himself unceremoniously stuffed into the metallic
closet. Unable to control himself, Tommy began to quietly sob in the
darkness once he heard the bullies' voices fade into the distance.
Tommy had no idea how long he'd been in the locker crying quietly until
he heard a small voice. "Hello? Is someone in there?" Peeped the small,
high pitched voice.
"Yes," sniffed Tommy, "please help me." He tried tolook out through
the vent holes, but failed to see anyone. He could, however hear the
flutter of tiny wings.
"I would love to help you," answered the voice, "but you have to ask just
the right way."
Great, thought Tommy, someone's here just to kick dirt at me. He
bobbed his head up and down trying to get a peek at the owner of the
little voice. Sighing heavily, Tommy banged his head against the door.
"Please, please I just wish you'd help me out a bit here."
"Wish? Did you say wish?" Came the voice's high reply. "Why, that's
the magic word!"
Tommy jumped back as much as the space inside the locker would allow
when the pink smoke seeped into the vents. A small bird coalesced from
the smoke and perched on the coat hook on the inside of the door. The
bird looked up at Tommy squashed as far back into the locker as he
could manage. "Don't worry," chirped the bird, "I'll have us out of here
in no time." Tommy watched in amazement as the bird produced what
looked like a tiny hacksaw from a little black bag and began to saw away
at the latch. Before long, the door popped open and the bird fluttered
out. Stumbling a bit, Tommy gladly left the locker.
"Wow, I'll bet you're glad to get out of there," the bird, a finch Tommy
suddenly realized, lighted on his shoulder, "how'd you get in there in the
first place?"
Ignoring the question, he looked at the bird on his shoulder as best as he
could. "What are you? How come you can talk? How'd you get us out
of there? How did you get in for that matter?"
"Wow, you're all questions aren't you! I'll tell you what, let me slip into
something a bit more comfortable and we can go somewhere and talk
this out," chirped the bird. Tommy nodded numbly.
The bird dissolved into a small cloud of pink smoke that grew into a
larger cloud that was soon taller than Tommy's five foot stature.
Squinting just a bit, he realized that the smoke was beginning to become
solid just like it had inside the locker.
"There, that's much better," Tommy's mouth dropped open as the smoke
suddenly disappeared revealing a very tall, very well built red haired
woman. She ran her hands over her body , smoothing her clothes as if
they had been wrinkled. "Now then, flying around has left me somewhat
famished, wanna go for pizza?" she asked with a dazzling smile. Again,
Tommy nodded wordlessly, eliciting a golden giggle from her lips.
"So what you're telling me, Becky," Tommy said over his third piece of
pizza, "is that you are a genie?"
"Yup," she said sipping Mt. Dew from a straw, "a student djini to be
precise."
"You have magical powers and can grant wishes and everything?"
"Yup."
"What's the bag for?" Tommy had noticed that Becky hadn't let the black
leather bag out of her sight for a second. He knew it couldn't be a purse,
it was too big; more like a gym bag.
"This," she said patting the leather fondly, "is my magic bag. Its where
my wish granting power comes from."
"Wow." Images of hundreds of wishes flooded Tommy's mind. "Will
you grant me any wishes?"
"Well," she looked thoughtful for a moment and began shaking her head
'no' only to quickly switch to nodding 'yes'.
"Yes!" shouted Tommy. "First, I want to be older, then I want Mike and
all the other bullies to leave me alone. No, I want them to want to be
around me. Then I want a car, and--"
"Hold your horses!" She put out her hand and covered his mouth to stop
his rattling on. "There are a couple of rules here."
Great, thought Tommy, I've found a genie and she's a stickler for rules.
"I know, I know, I've seen 'Aladdin'. You can't make anyone fall in love,
you can't kill anyone, and I can't wish for more wishes, right?"
She shook her head. "Nope, I can do almost anything so long as you
word it right. Actually, the rules are that each person can only have
three wishes given to him per every one hundred years, so right now you
only have two left. Second, I'll fulfill your wishes in such a way that
they could possibly fulfill themselves. Got all that?" Tommy nodded his
head. "OK then, hit me with those two wishes."
"OK. For my first wish--"
"Second, your first was to get out of the locker."
"Right. For my second wish, I wish that I was two years older."
A smile played on Becky's face. "I just love that word 'wish'! It makes
me all tingly inside!" She rummaged around in her magic bag and
finally pulled out an envelope. "Here you go!"
The moment Tommy's hand touched the paper, he felt different. Not a
lot different, but different. "What's this?" he asked looking at the
envelope. "That, my friend is a copy of your new birth certificate. Don't
worry, the wish magic will take care of itself and your folks will
remember your new birth date and everything. What's next?"
"OK. For my last wish, I wish that Mike and all the bullies would want
to hang out with me instead of beat me up."
"Hmmm, its a good thing you said that one earlier. It gave me a chance
to think. This one could have potentially been hard to do." Smiling,
Becky simply reached into the bag and pulled out a jar. "I found this
while I was looking for the birth certificate and set it aside." She smiled.
Tommy looked at the jar. Printed on it in pink paint were the words
"New You Acne Creme". "Acne creme?" he asked expectantly.
"Yup, just rub it on your body every night this weekend and on Monday
morning, your wish will be granted."
"Thanks Becky!" he said, hugging her.
"Don't mention it, just be sure not to use too much of that stuff. Its
awfully strong. Be sure you do it over two nights. I got it from some
old guy in a bathrobe. He said his customers were very pleased with the
results."
With another hug to his new friend, Tommy left the pizza parlor and
headed home to make his wish come true.
That night, Tommy locked himself in the bathroom with his jar of "New
You" acne cream. He took a little bit on one finger and rubbed it into a
particularly sore zit on his nose. He was amazed when the pimple
disappeared, replaced by clear, soft skin.
All right, he thought. This stuff really works! With that, he forgot
Becky's warning and dove into the jar with both hands, smearing it all
over is face, chest, legs, and everywhere else he had pimples. Before
long, the jar was empty and his skin was clearer and softer than he'd ever
thought possible.
"Wow," he said aloud, rubbing his checks, "it even feels like I've had a
shave!" He continued to admire his new flesh in the mirror, absently
scratching at an itchy spot on his nipple.
The next morning, Saturday morning, Tommy woke when he usually did
and reached to his night stand for the remote to his television. As he lay
watching cartoons, he noticed absently that he didn't have his usual
morning erection. Not that he ever would have admitted to anyone, but
he always looked forward to rubbing himself to ejaculation in the
mornings. Shrugging, he reached under the blankets to give himself a
little encouragement. He found his penis, but no amount of fondling, no
amount of contraband magazines, no amount of dirty thoughts about the
pretty red headed genie made him stir.
Throwing off the blankets, Tommy looked at himself. He had to blink
and shake his head a few times, because it almost looked like his nipples
were bigger. He reached up from his flaccid member and pushed in on
his nipples. Electricity shot through his body from his nipples to his now
suddenly erect penis. No longer realizing what he was doing Tommy
began rubbing his chest with one hand and masturbating with the other.
It wasn't long before a spurt of jism announced his climax. Somehow
though, Tommy felt less than satisfied.
Shrugging, he walked to the bathroom, still naked, to clean himself up
and for his morning "constitutional". In the mirror, he noticed a few
pimples on his chest, so he fished the jar of cream out of the trash and
scraped out what he could. He rubbed the cream into the flesh of his
chest, barely noticing that it was fuller than it had been even moments
before. The feeling of rubbing his nipples urged him hard once more
and his hand went again to his crotch. He never noticed that his penis
was smaller than it had been earlier. After rubbing himself to orgasm
again, he wandered back to bed and collapsed, sound asleep.
Tommy was awaked by the sound of his mother calling for someone
named Tammy.
"Tammy! Crawl your lazy tookus out of bed! You can't sleep the day
away!" called his mother's voice. Groggily, he sat up from where he had
dropped on the bed and looked around his room as if lost. An odd,
blonde curtain shaded his eyes and he reached up to rub his eyes. The
curtain of what his sleep clouded mind told him was his hair parted and
he rubbed his eyes.
At first, Tommy thought he was still asleep and dreaming. His room
looked somewhat different, yet still the same. He couldn't quite put his
finger on it. His television was still on, playing some sort of infomercial
for a new miracle make-up. His Playstation and N64 cluttered the table
around the television. Surveying his room, Tommy still couldn't figure
out what was wrong. Suddenly, the door to his room burst open.
"Good lord, girl!" his mother yelled when coming into the room carrying
a laundry basket before her. "You're naked! Why aren't you out of bed
and dressed? Its almost 2:30 in the afternoon.!"
All Tommy could muster was a weak "Huh?"
"Get up girl! You're going to be late and I don't want that brute of a boy
you insist on dating hanging around the house waiting for you all day!"
His mom was like a whirlwind through the room that cleaned instead of
destroyed.
A halo of long blonde hair shimmered around his head as Tommy shook
it as if it were an Etch-A-Sketch that had an offensive picture on it.
"What's going on? Why are you calling me girl?" he asked desperately.
"What in the world do you mean? Did you take some kind of weird drug
with that new friend of yours last night? Why wouldn't I call you girl?"
Still shaking his head, Tommy rose from the bed and walked unsteadily
to the bathroom. Once there, he was confronted with what could only be
his own reflection in the mirror. A girl of about 17 years of age stood
naked before him. Her long blond hair cascaded across her shoulders,
down her back and in front of her eyes. A pair of large, round, naked
breasts with positively huge nipples decorated her chest. She ran her
hands over the breasts and watched the impressive nipples come to
attention. Tommy watched as the girl in the mirror ran her hands over
her tapered waist even as he did the same. The girl's fingers lingered for
a moment on the well maintained patch of blond pubic hair before
raising them up in front of her eyes. Mystified, Tommy studied the slim
hand and manicured nails before his eyes. No longer could he use the
phrase, "I know it like the back of my hand" because he no longer knew
the back of his hand. Or did he?
Memories suddenly flooded his mind. He remembered his fifth birthday,
but instead of a BB-gun, a bright pink doll house came to mind. All his
memories were there, they were just altered to those of a girl. Just as
suddenly, he remembered the night before.
"Becky," he growled as low as he could manage. Splashing the water in
the bird bath, Becky disrupted the scrying image she had conjured. "Too
bad Tommy seems upset, he got his wish" she said to no one in particular
as she put the concrete basin back in her
magic bag.
Becky knew why Tommy, now Tammy was upset. She hadn't expected
her wish to work that way. Heck, Becky thought, I hadn't expected it to
work that way!
Shrugging, she put a bit of birdseed in her mouth and a moment later,
fluttered away on wings of crimson.
Marisol
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