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That'll teach you! - Halloween 1999 Story Competition. Written by Kathy Core. * Disclaimer: Permission is granted to Fictionmania to archive this story, but anyone else should know better than to publish muck like this around the internet. This story (c)1999 Kathy Core - Do not reproduce without consent. * (i.) Storm clouds brewed overhead, a typical October night. The yellow ochre and burnt umber of the season scattered far and wide, tinting the landscape in every corner, leaving no leaf untouched. The winter would be here soon, but for now the streets were alive with color, a happy protest against the inevitable passing of the summer. Sitting on the windowsill, Bingo Brown watched for signs of the delivery truck; the time was passing and if the delivery didn't arrive soon his plans for this year's Halloween would be ruined. On the other side of the street he saw crudely carved pumpkins; waiting for darkness to fall so that their light would be seen. The sight of plastic skeletons and witches hats displayed on front doors and in windows all up the street cheered him up. Bingo smiled, remembering how much he'd enjoyed Halloween as a child. Now, of course, he liked Halloween for an altogether different reason. He heard that reason's voice coming down the stairs: His girlfriend, Laura. "Have they come yet?" "Not yet, Hon." He turned around to see that she'd finished in the shower. She stood drying her hair with a towel, wearing a bathrobe. "Well, they'd better get here soon, or we're not going to make it." "Don't worry," he said. "They'll be here. You just got to promise you'll wear your costume, no matter what." "I will, okay. Just stop going on about it," she said, looking bored by Bingo's repetition of the command. "Whatever you picked I'll wear, okay?" "Just you see that you do!" Laura shook her head. "Honestly, Bingo. I don't know what the big deal is. I said I'd do it didn't I?" "Yeah, but I don't want you changing your mind, is all." "You bought me a car, didn't you?" "Yeah, I did." "So, I'll wear your stupid costume. It doesn't matter what you've picked, I think I've still got the better end of the deal." "That's not why I bought the car," he said, feeling guilty. "I did it because I love you." "Yeah, right!" she said, laughing. She threw him the "Men!" look, raising her eyes to the ceiling with a cheeky smile. "Seriously, the more you go on about this, the more worried I'm getting. What the hell have you picked?" "You'll see." Bingo grinned, casting his mind back to his choice of costumes for the both of them -- and more importantly the choice of company to provide them. He could picture Laura in the Vamp costume he'd picked, fishnet stockings, six inch heels, a tight corset and a black dress so tight it would make grown men weep just to see it. There was a surprise, however, and if that surprise worked he was in for an exhilarating night's entertainment, and more. His own Vampire costume had a bonus feature, too -- one that would ensure he'd be able to keep up with Laura as well as keep it up, period. The costumes had been expensive, and he kept his fingers crossed that it would be worthwhile. He turned his attentions back to the window to see that the delivery had been made. "Yes!" His was beginning to feel giddy from his increasing arousal. "Have they come, then?" Laura asked, bemused. "You bet they have! Hope you're ready!" Bingo went to the door and brought the two boxes inside. Laura followed him upstairs with them. She looked apprehensive, to say the least. "I know you, Bingo. What perverted little costume have you picked out?" she said, opening the box with her name printed on it. "Oh," she said, sounding surprised. "A man's Vampire costume. Cute. I like it! Thanks Bingo!" She reached over and pecked Bingo on the cheek. "But..." Bingo looked at the box with his name printed on the label with a sinking feeling. "That's not the costume I ordered for you! That's mine!" He panicked. "She couldn't wear that costume," he thought, remembering the "bonus feature" built into it. "Yours? No way! This Vampire suit has my name on it... see?" She pointed to the invoice. "Laura James, Vampire, Quantity one. I'm wearing this costume, so there! Look! It's even in my size... it'll be far too small for you!" Laughing, she removed her bathrobe and began pulling on the pants. Bingo was devastated, and he didn't even dare open his own box. "You can't wear that costume! This one's yours!" There was, however, a small glimmer of hope -- The costume's "extra features" were controlled by a small, handheld control device that thankfully she hadn't found yet. However, if he couldn't find it before she did, he could be in serious trouble. "What's wrong with my Vampire costume, anyway?" Laura said. Pointing at the still unopened box with Bingo's name on it, and looking at him accusingly she said, "Why can't you wear that one?" Bingo knew he couldn't tell her the truth -- She'd go nuclear. "Yes Dear," he imagined himself saying. "There's a kinda mind control thingy in your costume to make you behave like a sex crazed nymphomaniac." "It won't fit," Bingo lied. "And besides, it's woman's costume." "Oh, you picked yourself a female costume, eh?" "No!" "You sly devil, you! I never knew you were that way." Laura began giggling uncontrollably as Bingo blushed. "Oh, come on, Bingo -- be a sport, eh? You made your bed!" Bingo considered his options. Perhaps he could wear the costume he'd wanted Laura to wear, but he'd have to be careful not to wear the headpiece -- the wig. That was where the receiver device was hidden, and so without it the costume would be harmless. "Okay, I'll do it, but I'm not happy." He wasn't just unhappy -- he was terrified. "Bingo?" She spoke with authority, waiting until he turned to face her. "If your costume is embarrassing, it serves you right for trying to force me to wear it, doesn't it?" "But you're a woman! You're used to stuff like this!" "Hmm. Now I'm really worried about what you expected me to wear!" She reached over and yanked the box away from him. Ripping the tape off, she had it open in an instant, ignoring Bingo's embarrassed protests. "Oh," she said, grinning widely. "I say! You filthy little boy!" She held the corset up, laughing. Digging deeper into the box she found the dress and the heels. "Well, you're certainly in for an interesting night." Luckily, she still hadn't found the control box. "I'm not going to wear it. No way," he said, remaining nervous. "But you made me promise to wear whatever you picked for me, right?" "Yeah?" "And I've done it, haven't I?" "Yeah, sort of." He felt like a witness being questioned in court. "And, if you'd ordered this Vamp outfit for me, I'd have worn that too." "I know," he said, feeling disappointed. "But you didn't, did you? You ordered the Vamp outfit for yourself." "I didn't! They must have got the orders..." "Save it, Bingo. Come on, just wear it! It'll be fun! What harm can it do, eh?" Bingo considered this: Just as long as she didn't find the control box, and he didn't wear the costume's headpiece, he'd be safe. Then it'd just be a costume, and nothing more. He quickly formulated a plan to turn the situation back to his advantage. "Okay, let's just say I do wear the Vamp outfit for the party," he said, "Will you swap when we get home?" Laura thought about this. "Yeah, okay, sure! Why not?" "Great!" Bingo suddenly realized he was being a little too enthusiastic. Laura looked suspicious. "What's the big deal with the costume, anyway?" "Nothing, nothing at all!" he said, trying not to lose his cool. "If you wanted me to dress up like that, all you had to do was ask, you know?" She shook her head again. Bingo felt stupid -- because he'd been so meticulous in ensuring Laura would have to wear the costume, he hadn't stopped for a second to think she might have just done it anyway. Laura handed him the box containing the Vamp costume. "Come on, get dressed!" Bingo grumbled, and reluctantly took off his jeans and T-shirt until he was standing only in his boxers. "Wait!" Laura said, now almost completely dressed. "You can't wear those underneath that dress!" Bingo was shocked. "Why not?" "Because, silly, that dress is so tight you'll be able to see them!" She flashed him a shot of her newly fitted false fangs, tapping them together. "Like I care, Laura." Now it was Bingo's turn to shake his head. Laura quickly rummaged through her drawers and pulled out a pair of seamless panties. "Here, wear these. This way, no-one is going to be able to see what you're wearing underneath." She tossed them to him, which he caught in a reflex action. He grumbled, groaned, then agreed. "You're loving this, aren't you?" "I am, as a matter of fact! Its called poetic justice." With a sigh he removed his boxers, and slipped on his girlfriend's panties. They were black satin, matching the dress. "Aren't I luck," he said sarcastically. "What do I do next?" "I think it's going to be a good idea for you to shave your legs. Fishnets look terrible over hairy stumps like those." She wasn't laughing aloud, but her shoulders where shaking with the effort not to. "Oh, you really are loving this!" He looked at the rest of the outfit still waiting in the box. He was rapidly beginning to realize the night's events were spiraling out of his control. "Be serious for a second, Laura." He had spotted a potential defense. "It's not worth me shaving my legs just for the sake of a few hour's entertainment." "But it's not just a few hours though, is it?" "Huh?" "If you want me to wear that costume afterwards, you'd better get in that shower!" "You're kidding, right? Oh my God, you're not kidding, are you?" He attempted to pull his most accomplished "puppy dog face" before trying one final time to appeal to her better nature. "Laura, please. Don't make me wear this costume. I really don't want to." "Get in the shower, Bingo, and stop moaning. Honestly, you'd think that costume was booby trapped the way you're going on about it." "Fine!" he said, moving into the bathroom. He didn't dare tell her the truth, not when he was within hours of fulfilling his fantasy. All he had to do, he told himself, was shave his legs, wear the dumb dress for a while, come home and then, after months of waiting, get Laura exactly as he wanted her. Once in the shower, he turned the hot water and climbed in. He selected an unused razor and got to work removing his leg hair. It was a humbling experience, to say the least. "I hope no one at work notices," he thought. To cheer himself up, he cast his mind back to the first time he had heard about the products "HypnoVamp" sold, and how the very idea had sent him rushing to his bathroom in a flurry of arousal. The brochure had promised costumes that would influence the way a person thought and behaved, through the use of a device that had to be worn close to the head, and a small handheld transmitter to control it. Quite how this system had come to be employed in fancy dress costumes baffled Bingo, but he didn't worry about the marketing strategies of two-bit underground companies that skipped FDA testing to get probably unsafe products into the hands of unsuspecting victims. What he did know, and what was worrying him about the swapping of costumes -- far more than any macho objections to wearing women's clothing -- were the behavior modifiers contained in each. Predictably, the Vampire costume he'd selected for himself would have made him a powerful sexual predator, unable to take no for an answer and with the stamina to match. The Vamp costume he had intended Laura to wear was fitted with a device that would have made her desperate for sex, insatiable even and willing to perform whatever ever act he required. It was, in short, a dream come true. But the error that has been made by HypnoVamp was quickly turning his fantasy into something equivilant to appearing on the Jerry Springer show. After 10 complaint filled minutes, Bingo emerged from the shower with smooth legs. He felt bald and naked, as well as slightly fearful of Laura's reaction. "Just don't forget," he reminded himself once again, "Just put up with it for a few hours, then it's party time." Back in the bedroom, he saw that Laura was now fully dressed, with her hair slicked back, teeth (The location of the receiver) in place, with her cape hanging from her shoulders. He was about to compliment her when she burst out laughing. "Oh, you poor thing! Look at you!" Clearly, the sight of Bingo with bare legs was amusing. "Don't laugh, please!" he said, unable to prevent himself chuckling with her. It was a ridiculous situation, after all, and Laura's laughter had always been contagious. "Bingo," she said, sounding matronly, "If you'd been a little kinder in your choice of costume, you wouldn't have to be doing all this, would you?" "Forever and ever, Amen," he said dryly. "Yes, I know, I know. I'm Sorry, okay?" "Here, let me help you into this." She was holding the corset up. "Oo! It's a real one, boned and everything! Good thing too. You're going to need it to be able to get into that dress!" "Yeah, yeah," he said, raising his arms so that she could wrap the heavy garment around his torso. "Laugh it up, but don't forget you're wearing it after...." Laura cut him short by pulling the strings, instantly knocking all the breath out of him. "Hold on to the bed post, okay?" He did as instructed, although with growing reluctance. With each tug of the string, the corset grew tighter and tighter, until his waist was reduced to a tiny 24 inches and the fat on his chest was pushed upwards until it formed a sort of cleavage in the corset bra cups. "I can't breath," he said softly, feeling like he was being split into two halves by the vicious corset. "And I can't move!" he added as an afterthought. "You picked it out, Buster!" she smirked, gesturing for him to sit on the bed. "Here," she said selecting the fishnet stockings. "Give me your legs." Bingo groaned as he kicked out his feet then watched Laura unroll the mesh material up to his knees. She instructed him to stand, and he obeyed. She continued unrolling until the stockings were high enough to attach to the straps dangling from the corset. She asked him, "How does that feel, then?" "Like I'm going to be catapulted out of this corset into high orbit." "That's good. Means it's a perfect fit. Are you sure you didn't order this costume for yourself?" Her evil grin had returned. If only she knew the truth, Bingo thought. "It's too late now, Bingo. To think, you actually expected me to wear that!" "You are going to wear it," he reminded her. He suddenly panicked, wondering if Laura would back down at the last minute. "You'd better wear it, anyway! I'm not doing this for nothing!" "Don't worry, I'm not going to go back on my word." In her hands she held the now terrifying dress that had seemed so appealing in the catalog. "Hey!" she said. "You're only one dress size larger than me! Isn't that funny?" "Oh, just hilarious." He hesitantly stepped into the dress as she held it out next to his feet. Then she raised it up, over his body and faux bust before instructing him to put his arms through the sleeves. Once done, she moved around to his back, and tugged at the zip. "Wow, this is some dress," she said. Bingo could tell even Laura was amazed by the tightness of it. "Phew, I'm not sure how we're going to get this off you afterwards!" "Tell me you're joking." Bingo felt like every part of his body was being squeezed or crushed. The dress was low-cut at the top to reveal his fake cleavage, but also long sleeved. The skirt reached to the floor holding his knees together tightly, but with a slight flare at the bottom to let him move a little. "This is torture!" "No," she said, eyebrows raised. "This is fun! I wonder, would you have given me any sympathy if I'd been wearing all that?" "Course not! You're a woman! You're used to clothes like this!" "Bingo. Do you ever see me wearing corsets? And, when was the last time you saw me wearing a dress?" Bingo moaned. There was no way he could win that argument. "Just lets get it over with, okay?" "Whatever you say!" Energetically, she grabbed at the pumps with the 6- inch heels. "Say, did you specifically request 6-inch heels?" "Enough already!" Bingo was beginning to think that no amount of copious, selfish, overindulgent sex was worth this humiliation. Laura burst into another fit of giggles as he stepped into each shoe. It was obvious he wasn't easily going to be able to walk in them; tumbling forward instantly. "Okay, here's what you do." She instructed him to take each step slowly and deliberately, placing each foot directly in front of the other and swinging his butt out in the correct direction. "Imagine you're gliding across the floor. You'll be fine!" "Great help you are!" Bingo found it difficult, but the corset and the dress combined gave him little choice but to walk as Laura has demonstrated, and within minutes he was able to walk in a straight line -- albeit slowly. Now had come the moment he'd been dreading. It was the item of the costume that he feared wearing the most. "Just your wig and makeup, and we're done," Laura said, not spotting his apprehension. "Er... I don't think I need the wig. I'll be fine without." He wished he'd thought of a better excuse. He couldn't tell her the truth -- that it contained a mind control device -- so he was going to have to rely on brute force to dissuade her. "You're joking? You'd shave your legs, let yourself be strapped into a corset and wear 6-inch heels, but you won't wear a wig? Are you mad?" She sounded genuinely stunned. "Don't be such a baby!" "So much for brute force," he thought. And then it was too late -- she'd placed the long black wig on his head and fixed it with pins. He squeezed his eyes shut, expecting to feel a tingle or a shock, but nothing came except for the masses of hair. "There's still hope," he reminded himself. "Just so long as she doesn't find the remote." Speaking of which, he examined the now empty boxes for signs of the device but could see nothing. "Damn! Where is it?" "Hey, Missy!" Laura called for his attention. "Make-up time!" Bingo groaned. It was going to be a long, long night. In a more philosophical moment he might have noticed the magic in the air, the same forces that were weaving spells to pull the night's events out from under his control. He might also have noticed how perfectly his plans had failed, how conveniently, as if there was a deliberate structure to the apparent disorder and confusion. It was Halloween night, after all, and the spirits that supervised had malevolence and mischief close to heart. (ii.) The brisk autumn air brought both of them a much needed dose of reality awareness, each suddenly feeling self-conscious as costumed children walked past them, giggling at the spectacle -- a parade of ghouls and goblins with chocolate smeared mouths. The innocence of them brought out feelings of remorse at his intentions towards Laura, but not so that he had changed his mind about the way the night would progress, after the party. They were away from the protective shelter of their home. Bingo decided, there and then, that he wasn't going to have a good time, no matter how much free alcohol was served at Jonny's party. To make matters worse, he need to hold onto Laura's arm to stay upright on the heels, and she had insisted he do so in the classically feminine manner, like Lord and Lady. "We look very sexy, Like Gomez and Morticia Adams" she whispered to him. "Speak French to me, won't you?" "Get lost!" His scowling face the only clue to his true gender, such was the success of the costume in altering the shape of his body. "Tell me -- we're taking the car, right?" "Of course we are! At this pace, the party will be over by the time we get there, if we walk!" she said, laughing at the tiny steps he was forced to take. She opened the car door for him, but Bingo didn't get inside -- he looked at her nervously. "Butt first, Sweetie," she said. "Oh," Bingo replied before doing as she suggested, getting into the passenger seat backwards. He lifted both feet into the car simultaneously, twisting his body so that it faced the front. "Hey," he said. "Why am I in the passenger seat?" He was embarrassed that he hadn't noticed sooner. She smirked, and went around to the driver seat, got in and started the engine. "Come on... you really think you can drive in all that?" Pushing the car into drive, she gently pressed the accelerator down and they were on their way. Bingo watched the streets pass by in a melancholy mood. The guilt over his original plan, the indignities he would happily seen Laura endure, were once again plaguing him. Everywhere he looked he saw partying and revelry, good times free of his own unique brand of salacious desire. He thought back to Laura's own words -- Poetic justice, she'd said. Then, just when he believed the night was going to offer no rewards, he saw salvation. "Hey, we gotta stop!" "What's up?" she said worriedly. "Liquor store." "Oh, I see!" She pulled the car in, parking it next to the store. "You want to stay in the car?" "What do you think?" Bingo said, concerned that she'd even contemplate sending him into the store dressed as he was. (iii.) Bingo continued to watch the streets come and go, thirstily drinking whiskey straight from the bottle. Perhaps it was the alcohol's fault, but it had taken him far too long to discover one small fact about the journey they were taking, that under normal circumstances he'd have noticed immediately. "We're not going to Jonny's party, are we?" "No we're not. I've got something better in mind!" "Oh." With his guilty conscience, Bingo wondered if she'd known all along about his intentions for her, and was at this present time taking him somewhere to exact her revenge. He tried to keep things in perspective -- Laura couldn't have possibly known about his plans -- he'd been far, far too cautious for that. So, he bit his tongue and continued pretending he had done no wrong. Curiosity, however, got the better of him until he couldn't help but ask, "So, where are we going then?" "A different party," she said, her eyes remaining glued to the road. "An party in particular, or are you just driving around until you find one?" "You'll see." Bingo looked at her. Was that an evil grin that passed across her face? He hoped not. Clearly, events were once again conspiring to deny to him what he'd so meticulously planned. The costumes had a shelf life of one day, and one day alone -- this Halloween. Beyond that, he would have no hope of tricking her into the Vamp suit he was, himself, now trapped in, and he couldn't very well re-use them the following year. He felt like an idiot, to say the least. "Why didn't I just put my foot down, and insist we swap costumes?" he thought, feeling desperately uncomfortable in the outlandish and restrictive garb. "Wow, Bingo! Do you know what a sexy woman you make?" Laura said. "Oh please!" he replied. "Next you'll be saying how you're jealous of my legs! Any more cliches, Laura?" She laughed aloud at this, before quickly turning away from the road to run her eyes up and down Bingo's body. "It's true, you have got great legs." Bingo was more depressed than ever. Despite his true masculinity, he was noticing his growing subservient feelings towards Laura, partially caused by conceding his usual right-to-drive, and also by the very fact he had to thread his hand through her arm just to be able to walk. In the simple act of getting costumes mixed-up, he'd become utterly dependent on her. She even seemed to be bigger than he was, with her masculine costume bulking her normally lightly adorned body. The Vamp costume he was wearing was the opposite, adding nothing to his overall size -- It colluded to make him appear smaller, thinner. It did not help that he hadn't been able to find the remote -- the unthinkable, that Laura had it, sent a shiver running through his spine. "Well, we're here!" Laura said, pulling the car into an empty space in front of a large, Georgian styled house. A cursory glance revealed many other cars -- more than likely all belonging to other guests of the party Laura had brought them to. A rich crowd, judging by the makes and models -- largely European luxury estate cars; all chrome fenders, gloss black paint work and veneer and leather interiors. "Wow," Bingo said, jaw dropping. "What's happening here, Laura?" "A Party. Wait there -- I'll open the door for you." She jumped out of the car -- one leg at a time, Bingo noted bitterly -- and raced round to the other side. "Oh, great. I'm so happy you're going to help me out of the car," He was ranting sarcastically, safe in the knowledge she she'd hear nothing. "I'd be stuck on my pretty little ass all night if you hadn't come to rescue me!" Laura heard him that time. "Fine," she said. "I'll shut the door and you can make your own way." "Wait, wait..." Bingo realized he was going to need her help, after all. "I need your arm!" "Oh, you do, do you?" Arms folded, she was going to tease him until it hurt. "You know I do. I can't move in this damn dress!" "Okay then, Sweetie. Legs first -- swing your feet round together, and pass me your hand." Begrudgingly, he did as instructed. Once again he was completely at her mercy for the next few hours -- or for as long as this party lasted. How had it happened, he asked himself? Could it be that his outfit -- no, check that: HER outfit, he thought -- had stripped him of his dominance? Once out of the car and back on his heels, the now familiar pain of his toes pushing into the pointed toe of the shoe, and his calves and ankles straining under the pressure returned. There was no way of hiding his discomfort. "Here," she said, trying to console him. She curled her arm in a loop, and pointed it towards him. "Take my arm." The drink hadn't helped either. He felt his mental faculties slipping away from him until he grasped Laura's arm, beginning to feel grateful for the support. Then, slowly, they both walked up to the looming building, notably free of Jack O' Lanterns and polyethylene banners with their crude seasonal greetings. (iv.) The lobby was vast, displaying a dazzling abundance of marble, gold, and antique furniture. Absent, however, were signs of life. Bingo felt the cold inside this impressive building more than he had outdoors. He couldn't help but wonder where all the other guests were. "Hmm," he said moving into sarcasm mode yet again. "Some party." "They're waiting for us upstairs, silly." "Upstairs? You're kidding, right? You remember how hard it was to get down our own stairs?" He pointed towards the imposing staircase that dominated the entrance, a style typical of the period. "And," he added, the significance of her words sinking in. "Who's waiting for us, and why?" "Oh, you really have no idea, do you?" She said with a concerned look. They moved across the entrance hall in silence until they began climbing the stairs. "What?" He replied, again attempting to sound devoid of any blame. Yes, he had an idea. She was on to him, and it was becoming painfully obvious. "You know about the costumes, don't you?" It felt good to confess. Bingo continued to follow her up the stairs, waiting for her response, knowing that whatever devious punishment she'd devised for him, he probably deserved. This was no party, he knew. This was the revenge he'd so feared. "You mean, do I know about HypnoVamp?" "Yes," he said, head hung low. "Course I do, Bingo. I'm one of it's owners." "I see." "Looking for this, are you?" From her pocket she removed the illusive handheld control device, and shook it at him. Her face was by now drained of humor. This didn't inspire feelings of confidence. "It's not how it looks, honestly!" But his protests were worthless. He could tell from the expression on Laura's face that she wasn't going to tolerate any of his usual execrable excuses. "Okay," he finally said, happy to finally unload his dirty secret from his painfully constricted chest. "I admit it. I wanted you to wear this costume so I could take advantage of you." "But?" she said, wanting him to finish the sentence. "But now I'm wearing it." "And?" "And you're going to use the device on me, aren't you?" "That," she said as they reached the top of the stairs, "would be luxury in comparison to what's actually going to happen to you." "Oh." "To think I trusted you. Imagine my surprise when I found out my own boyfriend had ordered me some SlutGear." "Yeah, I bet you're pretty pissed." It was a long shot, but he hoped a little bit of empathy would get him off the hook. "Pretty pissed? Bingo, if I didn't have much better plan in mind, I'd throttle you!" He continued his strategy, "Yeah. I know how you must feel. I'm sorry. I won't try anything like this again. I promise." She stopped instantly, leaving only one step ahead of her before they both reached the top. "As a warning, I'm giving you a blast of the box." Unable to stop her, he could only watch as she flicked the switch on the front of the panel, causing a little pink light to begin flashing. Bingo cried out, terrified at what was about to happen. "No!" He cried, throwing his hands up to his head to try and remove the wig. It didn't come off. In fact, tugging at it caused the same pain that pulling his own real hair did. "No, please -- don't turn me into a nympho!" Suddenly, Laura began laughing wildly, clearly amused at the sight of Bingo's terror. Then, after about 30 seconds of mad panic, he realized he wasn't under any kind of mental control at all -- it was a bluff. He let out as large a breath as his corset would allow. He said, "Phew, you really had me going then. I though you were really going to use the device on me!" "But I did, Bingo, I did." She grinned evilly, carrying him into the room where all the guests were. "It's working perfectly." "I don't understand! I don't feel any different." Then, of course, he did feel different. He suddenly noticed all the other party guests gathered in the hall at the top of the stairs. All of them seemed unusually tall. Even some of the women appeared to be taller than he was. Whereas before they'd been chatting amongst themselves, each and every one had stopped to examine the two new entrants. He turned to Laura for some kind of explanation, but this only served to make things worse -- she, too, was now towering above him displaying a physique that could only be described as masculine; manly. Her face, once delicately pretty, now seemed strong and powerful with a coarse skin texture. "Laura?" He cried, with genuine fear in his voice. Or was it his voice? He expressed his surprise at the pitch of it, now light and airy. "What's going on?" "Look at yourself, Bingo. What do you see?" He looked down, at first only seeing what he expected too: The constricting dress and corset and the absurdly tall heels. What he hadn't expected, and what struck him before his now tiny feet and hands, were his breasts. His alcohol soaked brain couldn't comprehend it -- he simply stood, in silence, staring at the fleshy mounds that struggled to burst out of the still excruciatingly tight dress. His wig too, he saw, was now real hair, attached firmly to his head. He was now the proud owner of long, flowing, brunette locks. "HypnoVamp," Laura began to explain, now with the dulcet tones of manhood, "Is nothing but a cover operation for us." She raised her arm to point out that all the guests in attendance were, like her, members of the same organization. Bingo wasn't listening. After all, he had suddenly grown breasts, suddenly lost nearly a foot in height and, judging by the contours of the dress, had lost his dick too. He simply wasn't interested in what she was saying. "HypnoVamp doesn't exist -- It doesn't sell anything at all. So, you can imagine our surprise when we got an order. It was meant to be an office prank for Halloween." There was still no response from Bingo. "Hell, we didn't know what to do. Course, when I realized what you had planned for me? Well, let's just say I'm not a very forgiving person, Bingo." "Huh?" Bingo said, finally stirred from his trance by the sudden realization that Laura's new masculinity was still changing -- she was beginning to look identical to how he once did. That could only mean.... "Oh God! What's happening?" "Are you ready for it, Bingo?" she said, her voice taking on the tone and pitch of a salesman. "We're swapping bodies!" "What?" "Well, I promised you I'd be wearing that costume after the party, right?" "Yeah?" He said, his voice strained from the sheer overwhelming horror of the situation. His girlfriend had quickly gone from giggling at his shaven legs to somehow managing to actually swap bodies! "That wasn't quite true," she explained. "You see, I'm not Laura anymore -- you are! So, in effect, I was telling the truth -- Laura would be wearing that costume after the party! You've done us a big favor, actually. We weren't sure it would work. The swap, I mean." Madness, insanity, overwhelming confusion -- it was intolerable, impossible to absorb. So rather than try, he fainted, praying that when he awoke, everything would be better. (v.) He didn't need to open his eyes to know he was back in his own bed, in his own home. He recognized the bumps and curves of the mattress, the little imperfections that only increased its comfort. In his ear, he heard a faint whisper. "I'm sorry Bingo. We were only meant to scare you -- just a prank for Halloween. We were going to change you back, but when you fainted you broke your costume -- we can't change you back!" Suddenly he recognized the voice. It was his own -- or, it was identical to his own male voice. Which meant... "Laura!" His voice, it seemed, was still quite feminine. "No!" He sat up, his eyes flying open. Directly in front of him stood his reflection, albeit flipped along the horizontal as if he'd peered into the reflection of the reflection. But he knew such observations were irrelevant. It wasn't his mirror -- It was his girlfriend. With his body. Looking down at himself he saw the still arousing curves of Laura's old body. In short, he was now her. "Oh, look on the bright side," Laura said. "You inherited a great body. Truly stunning, in fact." Bingo's mouth dropped open, noticing the swelling in Laura's boxers. Her powerful chest glistened with sweat, and her eyes were filled with desire. "And you should see the costume I've got picked out for you next year!" (vi.) If the night's events were the doing of the Halloween Spirits -- if you believe in such things -- they must be quite proud of themselves right now. Not only had they supervised a devious scheme that backfired on it's creator, so they also was that same event unleash it's own mischief, trapping the poor Bingo Brown in his girlfriend's body, ready for every Halloween he would ever see. The storm clouds, as it happened, never amounted to much more than wind. But, as the witching hour passed and normality resumed, the Spirits watching would be grinning at the sight of such glorious havoc. (THE END)