Broader Horizons
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A Broader Pallette - Chapters 1 And 2 free porn video
A Broader Palate
By Becky
Chapter 1 -- A Bland Dish
"Honey, I really wish I could stay," Stacy cooed, giving her
boyfriend her best puppy-dog-eyes look. "But I promised Brendan
I'd meet him for dinner tonight."
With that, she kissed him on the cheek, turned on her heel and
disappeared into the elevator. Jim raised his hand to the spot
where her lips had touched his skin.
"I'm gonna run across the street to grab a bite to eat," Jim's
secretary Sarah announced. He turned around and stared at her
blankly, still dazed by the lingering warmth of Stacy's kiss.
"Unless of course you have other plans for dinner," she added.
Oh yeah, he thought, dinner.
***
"You know, you really deserve better," Sarah commented, waving
her chopsticks at Jim.
"I know you're only trying to get me to expand my palate, but I
happen to LIKE the lemon chicken here." Sarah rolled her eyes.
"I'm not talking about THAT dish," she said. "I'm talking about
Stacy. You're a nice guy, and she's... well, she's taking
advantage of that."
"I'm happy with Stacy."
"No, you're not happy. No one's happy being a doormat. She goes
out every night on the town and then comes home to wipe her shoes
on you." Jim put his chopsticks down and sighed at his chicken.
"It's not as bad as you make it sound, Sarah."
"Oh, poo. Let me prove it to you," she dared. This caught Jim's
attention. "If I can prove to you that you're not happy... and
turn your life around... will you give me a promotion?" Jim
smiled.
"Seems like a fair exchange... after all, no one's been paying
you to have dinner with me and be my counselor these last few
weeks. Let's raise the stakes. If I agree, will you let me finish
my chicken without any more talk of Stacy?"
"Certainly," Sarah said, barely able to contain her excitement.
"All right, it's a done deal."
Chapter 2 -- A Touch of Spice
The next morning Jim rolled over in bed and awoke to find himself
alone. A note on the dresser from Stacy told him that she left
early for work and would not be home until late that night.
As he walked to the bathroom, he caught himself wondering if she
had even slept in their bed last night. Maybe Sarah was right --
Sarah was usually right. Why couldn't he find someone like
Sarah... only a version who was seven years older (his age, and
Stacy's) and not his secretary.
"I must be tired if I'm thinking about Sarah like that," he told
his mirror image. He squinted at it and decided he could go
another day without shaving. Turning on the cold water, he jumped
into the shower and began furiously scrubbing his scalp. When he
finally felt awake, he turned the water off and reached for a
towel. A strange sensation in his chest stopped him.
Looking down, he saw that his nipples seemed a bit stout. They
were hard to the touch and gave him the oddest sense that he had
breasts. He massaged his nipples and the hardness went away. He
decided it would be best not to think about the incident... it
made him feel... vulnerable.
A trip to the toilet would surely cure that! He marched across
the bathroom, spread his legs and waited. Nothing happened. He
pushed with all his might until a few golden drops appeared, but
that was all. Taking his manhood into his hand, he found that it
looked rather small, but for some reason it felt like it was the
right size.
"Cold showers will do that," he told himself, putting the toilet
seat down before heading back to his room to get dressed.
***
When he arrived at the office, Sarah greeted him with, "Good
morning, Jem." He stopped and looked at her quizzically.
"I'm sorry, what did you say?" he asked.
"I said Good Morning, Jim," she pronounced emphatically for him
with a pleasant smile. She looked him over from head to toe. His
shoes looked like they had been slipping around a bit as he
walked, and the back of his pant leg was touching the ground.
There was a definite softness in his face, but... oh dear. Were
those his nipples she saw poking indentations in his shirt? Jim
noticed her staring and quickly crossed his arms authoritatively
to cover them.
"Sarah," he began, pausing to clear his throat. "Could you cancel
my appointment with Dan Rosenthall and clear my calendar for the
rest of the day. I'm feeling under the weather today and, uh, I
think I should go home."
"That's a good idea, Jim. You should go home and rest," she said
with dramatic concern. "I hope you feel better!" she called after
him as he half-ran, half-tripped out of the office.
***
Jim awoke alone in bed again, only this time there was no note
and he was bathed in the orange glow of the setting sun. A fuzzy
headache that told him he had napped through the afternoon.
Walking to the kitchen, he felt a little off-balance. His head
felt heavy, his chest seemed weighted, and his nipples were hard
again. He reached into the cupboard for a can of soup, but it was
just beyond his reach. He got on his top-toes and stretched as
far as he could, but only succeeded in knocking it further back
on the shelf, so he gave in and used a chair as a stool.
As he held the can in his hand, he noticed that his fingernails
were a little too long. They made his fingers seem slender and
ladylike. A quick check of his toes confirmed that he must have
forgotten to cut them as well, but he would worry about that in
the morning. With a warm bowl of soup inside him, he quickly
drifted off to sleep.
***
When he reopened his eyes at 7 a.m., he could see the sunlight
streaming through dark strands of hair that covered his face.
"Stacy?" a voice inquired, perfectly synchronized with his lips.
It sounded like his voice, only less harsh... like grains of
powdered Nestle Quick turned into smooth flowing chocolate milk.
"Hello?" There was that voice again.
Jim brushed the hair out of his eyes and sat up, only to see it
swish back in front of his face again. That's when he knew it was
his own. With a quick gasp, he ran to the bathroom mirror and saw
a tomboy-ish woman stare back at him.
The woman had a softer, less angular version of his face with
longer lashes framing his familiar brown eyes and a smaller nose
shaped just like his. The texture of his skin made his old face
feel like rough burlap, but the little pimple he had been
battling for a few days was still standing triumphantly on his
right cheek. Atop it all, a short but poofy mop of straight, dark
brown hair covered his ears but ventured no further toward his
shoulders. It was the sort of haircut that demurely teases, "I
don't have to be stereotypically feminine to be sexy."
A lock of hair fell over his left eye and he subconsciously
pursed his lips and blew it back into place. He caught himself
envisioning how kissable those lips looked, especially with the
lower lip bulging a bit past the upper lip, and immediately drew
them back into a thin frown.
"I have to find Sarah," the woman in the mirror told him.
Showering was no simple task. He was forced to face the reality
that he had breasts -- small breasts that allowed him to go
braless, but breasts all the same -- and that his manhood had
been... replaced. He threw on a shirt and pants as he would any
other day, but was dismayed to find that he kept stepping on the
pant legs as he walked and was constantly pushing his sleeves
back up to his wrists.
After rolling up the cuffs and stuffing toilet paper in the toes
of his shoes, he adjusted the driver's seat in his car and headed
for work. As he emerged from the elevator, he was horrified to
find that Sarah was not at her desk. She was usually in full
swing by this hour, but it looked as though she hadn't yet
arrived. He opened the door to his office to get Sarah's number.
"Oh, good morning, Emily." said a cheerful voice. Sarah was
sitting behind his desk, looking more businesslike than usual.
She was wearing a tailored powersuit and her hair was glamorously
done up, held in place by a large dangerous-looking pin. She
looked like she was about to preside over a corporate merger,
ready to impale anyone who voiced dissent with her hairpiece.
"We need to talk," Jim gasped, still not accustomed to his voice.
"Of course," Sarah obliged, motioning to the door. "Would you
mind closing the door?" Jim hurried to the door, closed it, and
fumbled with his keys to lock it. "I doubt you'll find it there,"
Sarah offered helpfully, taking a key from her own set and
tossing it to him.
"What the hell is going on?" Jim demanded.
"Please have a seat." Jim didn't move. "I can't help you until
you relax, and you're not going to relax with your foot pressed
up against the door. Besides," she chucked, "it's not like anyone
would have trouble knocking you over if they wanted to get
through that door. What do you weigh? One hundred fifteen pounds?
One hundred ten? Come on, sit down." Jim collapsed into one of
the chairs he normally reserved for clients, looking at Sarah
from the wrong side of his desk.
"Remember our deal the other night at dinner," she asked. "I said
I'd prove to you that you're not happy and that I'd turn your
life around in exchange for a promotion."
"I'm supposed to be happier now that none of my clothes fit and I
can't reach the shelves in my kitchen?" Jim cried. "If you
thought I was unhappy before... boy, you should have seen me this
morning when I tried to straighten THIS mess out," he snapped,
brushing a lock of hair out of his eyes.
"Don't worry about it," she assured him. "The magic can be
irregular at times... the changes it's going to make to your
clothes just haven't caught up to -- oh, here we go. I can
already see it taking effect."
She was right, Jim's clothing was starting to shrink. He rolled
his cuffs back down as his shirt became more taut, perfectly
outlining his A cup breasts. The neckline plunged slightly and
Jim felt a brief chill he'd never before experienced.
"That'll teach you to wear a bra to work in the future," Sarah
admonished. "And as for your hair..." She tossed him a silver
barrette. "You can use that to hold it in place."
At that moment, there was a knock on the door and Stacy entered.
Jim bolted from his chair, threw his arms around his girlfriend
and kissed her on the lips.
"Stacy! You have no idea how glad I am to see you!" Jim gushed.
Stacy flushed.
"Why, Emily... I had no idea you were into that..." she said,
squirming uncomfortably in Jim's arms. She gently pushed him
away, but not before whispering in his ear, "call me later
tonight."
Jim was gratified, but as Stacy pushed him away, he realized that
they were the same height. That meant he had shrunk three inches
from his male height of 5'9" tall. The sight of looking directly
into his girlfriend's eyes was a bit unsettling, so he retook his
seat.
"Sarah, here are the documents you asked for," Stacy stated,
handing over a couple of folders and giving Jim a wink on her way
out.
"Now on to more important matters," Sarah continued. "Your new
name is Emily Anne Thomas, and I'll be calling you that from now
on. For the time being, Emily, you're still 28 years old and your
past is very much as it was... except that you were born a girl.
Only you and I know otherwise, and that's part of the remaining
problem."
"Problem?" asked Emily, as though hearing the word for the first
time in her life.
"You have no memory of your life as a girl, and that's a problem
because for all intents and purposes, you don't know how to be a
girl. You put that barrette in upside down, by the way. No, the
other way... anyway, you get the point. There is much you need to
learn, and I'm not the best person to teach you. My mom, however,
is an excellent teacher. She did all right with me, and even
though she has my three younger sisters to raise, she talks about
how she would love to have another." Sarah smiled. "It's the
perfect deal: you give my mom the daughter she wants, and she'll
teach you everything you didn't learn the first time around."
"Enough with this charade. Will you please change me back now?"
"No can do... it's kind of a ride. You have to wait until the
magic has taken it's course, and then if you truly aren't happy,
I can give you your old life back. Just enjoy yourself and think
of it as a free vacation."
"Your mother isn't going to accept some stranger as her
daughter," Emily scoffed.
"I change you into a girl yet you still insist on believing that
your reality is rigid and unmalleable." Sarah pointed a finger at
Emily's head and the barrette rearranged itself. "You
underestimate the power of magic. Getting her to accept you is
going to be much easier than getting you to accept her as your
mother, but you will."
She pointed her finger at Emily's chest and a small bra appeared
under her shirt. Sarah blew on the tip of her finger as though
she had just fired a revolver, and Emily could swear she saw thin
trails of smoke dissipating.
"In the mean time, you're not yet finished turning into a girl.
You're just past the halfway point. You have until around, say,
midnight... Cinderella. Have fun tonight."
***
After a day of answering phone calls and booking appointments for
Sarah, Emily rushed home and called Stacy.
"I'll be over in an hour, honey," Stacy promised. True to her
word, she showed up 58 minutes later... with a grocery bag. Emily
took the groceries and helped Stacy with her coat.
"What's all this?" Emily asked nervously. Neither of them ever
cooked, and she worried that in this reality Emily was supposed
to be some kind of master chef. That would be a problem.
"I thought I'd make you my special chicken Marsala," she replied,
grinning hungrily at Emily.
"I didn't know you could cook..."
"I have been known to prepare a dish for the right occasion,"
Stacy teased. "It's an old family recipe. There's a lot you don't
know about me, but maybe we can remedy that tonight?"
Two hours and three-quarters of a bottle of wine later, the two
were washing the dishes together. Emily dried her hands and
handed the towel to Stacy, who tossed it on the counter unused
and removed her shoes. Emily's heels gave her a two-inch height
advantage and she found Stacy looking up into her eyes with
longing, her arms wrapped around her former boyfriend's neck.
Cold drops of water fell from her hands and slowly rolled down
Emily's back. They created an electric excitement within her, a
sensation that paled in comparison to Stacy's kiss.
That night Emily fell asleep with Stacy nestled in her arms.
The next morning Emily opened her eyes but did not see any sign
of Stacy. Had it all been a dream? She began to get out of bed,
but she seemed tangled in her warm blanket. Then she realized it
wasn't a blanket at all. Stacy's body was pressed against her
back, her arms wrapped around Emily's waist... her hands clasped
just above her crotch.
"Mmmm..." Stacy moaned. "You were WONDERFUL last night, hon."
Emily felt her kissing her neck, then her shoulder, then Stacy's
finger tracing its way tantalizingly between her breasts and a
hand cupping her left breast. Something was wrong... there
shouldn't have been that much to cup.
Emily rolled over to face Stacy, who lowered herself in for a
passionate kiss. Emily pushed her away quickly.
"What's the matter?" asked Stacy, looking hurt.
"Uh, nothing," Emily stammered. "It's just that I have terrible
morning breath. No kissing until I've brushed my teeth." She
giggled nervously and rolled out of bed, but Stacy followed and
grasped her shoulders.
"Are you all right?" Emily looked up at Stacy in terror. They
were both barefoot but Stacy was a good four inches taller than
her. That meant Emily had shrunk again... to Sarah's height --
5'2". "If you're not feeling up to making breakfast this morning,
I can try to throw something together. It won't be one of your
gourmet meals, but I don't want you to over exert yourself." She
massaged Emily's shoulder affectionately.
"Actually, that would be great. You make breakfast... I'm sure it
will be delicious... and I'll see you in the kitchen as soon as I
freshen up." She flashed her girlfriend a weak smile for
emphasis.
"Okay, sweetie," Stacy said, bowing her head slightly to kiss
Emily's forehead. "If you need anything, you know where to find
me."
"Okay," Emily managed before running for the bathroom and bolting
the door behind her. Her heart was fluttering so fast she thought
she might collapse, so she stood there leaning against the door
for support.
Her voice had sounded so different, sweeter and higher in pitch.
Where had she heard that voice before? Meg Ryan... that was it.
Her voice sounded like Meg Ryan's. She wondered if she could do
the "I'll have what she's having" scene from When Harry Met
Sally, but decided it would be better not to worry Stacy. She
opened her eyes and looked down at her breasts. They were
definitely bigger, but who knew how much bigger?
There was a simple white bra hanging on the back of the door -- a
B cup. Was it hers or Stacy's? She couldn't remember even being
in the bathroom last night, but then again, she didn't remember
being the more feminine half of Stacy's lesbian relationship
either. With some trepidation, she took the bra and after a bit
of struggling, managed to hook it in the back. It seemed to fit
perfectly.
She turned to face the mirror, inadvertently whipping her dark
hair into her face. It hung straight to her shoulders, plain Jane
style. It looked as though her head had gotten smaller, but her
facial features remained the same size... which made them look
proportionately larger.
Emily tried combing her hair, but eventually admitted she had no
idea what to do with it and grabbed a scrunchy. It was then that
she realized the bathroom tiles had changed as well -- they were
pink. Emily hated pink.
She found Stacy burning scrambled eggs in the kitchen. There were
coffee grains scattered about the counter and something smoking
in the microwave.
"Oh my God, Emmie. You look SO cute in my bra and scrunchy!"
***
Hours later, Emily stormed into Sarah's office.
"You should really try to get into the habit of knocking. I did
when I was your age," Sarah said without looking up from her
paperwork.
"Oh yeah, well did you have to put up with pink bathroom tiles?"
Sarah looked up just long enough to stifle a laugh. "And, 'Oh you
look SOOOOO cute in my bra, EMMIE!' How humiliating!" Sarah could
no longer contain herself and burst out laughing.
"What were you doing wearing her bra, anyway? Isn't it a little
big on you?" She laughed some more.
"Never mind that, how much longer is this going to take? I'd like
to get my life back."
Sarah sighed and took off her glasses.
"I don't know, exactly. The magic knows better than I do just how
long it will take for you to be happy. I can't just snap my
fingers and make you happy, you know. Happiness takes time and it
requires some hardship on your part. That's human nature. Not
even magic can change that."
Emily sulked.
"Hey, cheer up, kiddo. You should be thankful that pink bathroom
tiles are the worst of your troubles. Could you hand me that
stack of papers?"
***
(To be continued soon in Chapter 3: "A Dash of Sugar")
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