MAU: Blushing Bride free porn video

MAU: Blushing Bride Synopsis: At a bachelor party, a few friends use an MAU to liven up the party. This leaves the groom in a very strange situation with the upcoming wedding; he and his bride-to-be have to improvise a lot. [email protected] ********************************************************************** MAU: Blushing Bride "Hey! The unlucky victim is here!" Paul called cheerfully as he recognized the guest standing on the porch. "We've all been waiting to celebrate your last hours of freedom!" Steve Wilson glanced nervously through the door behind Paul; the noise of the party, which had started without the 'guest of honor,' had been audible from the driveway. Already, he could tell that his friends were well on their way toward passing out. He stepped in, closing the door against the icy wind outside. A shiver ran down his spine as he started peeling off his gloves and parka. Steve couldn't tell whether the spine-tingling sensation was from genuine cold or from a deep foreboding of the evening's events, but he _did_ know that his friends were very determined to give him a stag party not to be forgotten. "Sorry I'm late," he announced as he accepted a plastic cup of beer from the host, his best friend Carl. "The storm is getting worse." Steve took a taste, then nodded. Average height, average weight, Steve looked nonetheless ruggedly handsome. In high school, he'd been considered a prime catch by all the girls, even though he was also kind of bookish and not one of the 'jocks'. His blonde hair was tussled from his cap, adding to a daring look. Despite his outward appearance, Steve was introverted, which happened to fit well with his new job - math teacher, ironically at their old high school. Carl shrugged. "We've got plenty of beer and chips. Let it snow." Unlike Steve, Carl was much more athletic; his muscles came from the hard work he did running his farm. Even in the dead of winter, his deep tan from the near constant exposure to the summer sun hadn't completely faded. Already, at twenty-four, his hairline was showing the first signs of receding, and only hard work spared him from a beer gut. A head popped into view in the door leading to the kitchen. "Hey Carl!" "What?" Carl boomed back. "That was the agency. With the storm, the girls aren't going to make it!" "Damn!" Carl cursed. "Damn, damn, damn!" Steve wrinkled his brow. "What girls? I thought you said there wasn't going to be any funny stuff." His senses were alert, and he sounded suspicious. Carl smiled and gulped the last of his beer. "Ah, it's nothing! What's a stag party without strippers?" "Strippers? You promised Dana that ...." Steve looked worried. Carl laughed. "I promised her I wouldn't get any hookers. I didn't say anything about strippers, though!" He nudged Steve in the ribs with his elbow. "Anyway, chill out! With the storm, they can't get here." Steve felt a strong sense of relief. True, strippers would have livened up the bachelor party, and he'd been to many such an affair where live performances helped add to the festivities. But this one was different. This was _his_ bachelor party, and somehow, it would have seemed like cheating on Dana. "I'm not surprised. I could barely find the driveway coming in," Steve observed. Most of the time, living in a small farming community in Iowa was a curse; right now, the isolation seemed a blessing. The Omaha / Council Bluffs metro area was almost sixty miles away, a distance too far to risk driving in a winter storm. "Why didn't you two wait until summer, anyway?" Paul butted in. "Did you got her knocked up or something?" Paul was a year younger than Steve and Carl, and he worked as a hand at a feedlot. Evenings, as his gut attested, were typically spent at the local watering hole. Steve scowled at Paul. "No, you dork!" He fought to control his anger at the implied insult of his bride-to-be. "We just don't want to wait another five months." "So you're getting married in a blizzard in January," another friend, Ron, commented dryly, "when we can't have a proper bachelor party." Tall and thin, Ron looked like a practical joker, an unstable gag-at-any-turn type who one really didn't want to turn a back on. The appearance fit; Ron had been the class clown, and he still tried to pull immature pranks, much to the chagrin of his former classmates. "Hey, I'm not in charge of the weather," Steve said, starting to sound defensive. Carl sensed the mood shift, and decided to stop it before things got any more tense. "Hey, now that Steve's here, let's put in the movie!" Besides Paul, Carl, and Ron, seven or eight guys had gathered for the party. All seats in the living room were occupied, and Carl had to boot one friend from a chair so the 'guest of honor' wouldn't have to sit on the floor. Ron retrieved a pitcher from the kitchen. "Any refills?" he asked, then went around the room refilling the plastic cups. Bags of chips were strewn about the room, offering easy access to satisfy the snack needs. Carl squatted down and turned on the VCR, then the TV. "Here it is, guys!" he called as he waved the tape around. "Round one of our night's video entertainment!" "What is it?" Carl smiled as he slid the tape into the machine. "We're going to start off mild. The first tape is called '2069: A Sex Odyssey'." He glanced at Paul and Steve. "You need to be at least half-sober to appreciate this one." He winked. "You might get some ideas for your honeymoon, too!" He saw Steve blush, and try to frown to conceal his embarrassment. "We'll do the really raunchy stuff next." About two-thirds of the way through the second movie, and well into the second keg of beer, Ron stood up suddenly. "This bites!" he announced in a slurred voice. "I want some _live_ entertainment." "Well, the strippers couldn't make it!" Paul reminded him. Ron shook his head, beer sloshing wildly from his cup. "I've got something in my trunk a hell of a lot better than these lame movies!" he announced boldly. Before anyone could ask, he staggered to the door and opened it, then lurched awkwardly out into the night. Everyone flinched from the blast of cold air that swept through the room before Carl shut the door again. In moments, Ron returned, once more forgetting to shut the door. Steve closed out the icy wind, then watched as Ron held out a bundle. "Here it is," he said, holding what appeared to be a box wrapped in a blanket. Carefully, as if holding glass, he unwrapped the object, eventually revealing a plain metal object. Paul had a strange smile on his face, as if he knew some hidden secret. "So?" Carl finally asked as Ron gently set it on the ground. "It's a metal box!" Other guys joined in the jeering. Ron stood, holding up his hands as if to silence the skeptics. "No," he stammered, "this is a magic box! Watch!" He bent over and carefully rubbed the top of the box. The noise in the room stopped abruptly as the box began to grow. Silently, mysteriously, the box expanded until it was the size of a telephone booth. Ron stood beside the box, beaming in triumph. "See?" he said proudly as he beheld the even-more-mysterious object. "So ... what does it do?" Carl finally asked. The sight of the box growing had unnerved him ... slightly. Ron pressed his hand against an oddly shaped red crystalline pad. "It reads your thoughts. Watch." He concentrated, a difficult task given the amount of alcohol in his system. Slowly, as the guys gathered around the box, the image of a woman appeared on a display panel. And not just any woman, but a spitting image of Dana - albeit naked and with larger breasts. The guys started to hoot, while Steve's face turned crimson. "That's not funny!" he snarled, his fists balled and his arms tensing to strike. Before he could punch Ron, Ron grinned and grasped a purple doorknob. In a flash, half of the side of the box vanished, leaving the guys standing around, stunned. Then, as Ron touched something inside the box, the side reappeared. For a few brief seconds, the guys stood, wondering what happened. Then the box opened again. Steve, seeing the opening reappear, started to tense his muscles again - to punch Ron. As the figure emerged from the box, Steve froze. It wasn't Ron. It was a very naked Dana, grinning like a Cheshire cat. "What the hell?" he sputtered. "What are you doing here? And ..." He heard the hoots behind him, and he felt himself flush again. Quickly, he grabbed a small pillow from a chair and held it up in front of Dana's ... exposed ... body, trying in some way, any way, to hide her nakedness from the guys. "I'm _not_ Dana!" the girl said, still grinning. "I'm Ron!" She pushed the pillow away, then twirled to deliberately show off her naked body to the guys. "The machine changed me into what I was thinking of!" Steve sputtered again. "That's ... impossible!" He glared at the guys, angry at the way they were leering at the body of his bride- to-be. Even if it wasn't really her. "Who wants a last fuck with Dana before she's married?" Ron sang out in Dana's soft alto voice. Steve glared at him. "You're sick!" he snapped. His fists were balled again, and he felt a strong urge to punch Ron. Only ... it wasn't really Ron. Nor was it Dana. He felt helpless as the guys around him whooped and hooted. Carl stepped between Ron and the guys. Slowly, he pushed the others away. "Great one, Ron," he chuckled. "But I don't think it's really ... appropriate." Ron was obviously relishing in the attention and Steve's embarrassment. "Just kidding," he relented. "Besides, you don't think I'd let some guy ..." He didn't need to finish the thought. With a last seductive wiggle, he touched the red crystal once more. In moments, his own body was displayed on the panel, and with a final grin at Steve, he re-entered the booth to change back. After Ron was restored, most of the guys turned their attention back to the movie, while Carl refilled the beer glasses. Steve glowered at Ron across the room, where Paul was diligently keeping Ron as far from Steve as possible. Athletic or not, Steve could easily pummel Ron if he was pushed. "Okay, that was funny. But now what?" Carl thought. "Well, since we couldn't get strippers, I guess we could use that thing to make them!" he said with a grin. "Yeah? Who?" "You're not changing _me_ into some bimbo!" "Me, either!" Carl shook his head and glanced around the room at the nervous guys. "There's got to be a way." He glanced at Ron. "So how does it work, anyway? And where'd you get it?" Ron shrugged. "I found it while I was feeding the cattle last night," he said nonchalantly. "It was in a small crater by the haystacks. Anyway, whatever you're thinking of when you touch the red thing, it shows. And then when you touch the purple knob inside, it changes you into whatever is on the display." Carl grinned. "Okay, guys, I've got an idea." He grabbed the remote and shut off the television. "Let's play poker. Whoever has the lowest hand has to be changed into whatever kind of stripper the winner wants." "Cool!" "For how long?" "You're not making me a girl so you can fuck me!" Paul caught on quickly. "The loser has to do a strip tease and be a girl for the next hand?" he offered. Steve frowned, still casting evil glares at Ron. "None of you guys change into Dana." Ron gulped, reading the menacing tone in Steve's voice. He nodded, and the other guys quickly agreed. "Okay, let's have at it, then." The guys gathered in a circle in the living room. Carl retrieved a deck of cards, shuffled, and Steve cut, his malevolent stare still directed at Ron. "And each round, we start by drinking a beer for an ante," Carl added with a grin. Steve gulped. Carl's suggestion was going to ensure that _someone_ got drunk. With the box's ability to change guys into girls, it was looking suddenly very dangerous. Despite his sudden misgivings, Steve knew he couldn't back out now. He couldn't let the guys see him as a wimp. Paul lost the first round. Surprisingly, Steve won. "I'll pass," Steve said softly. He was thinking of Dana, and he didn't really want to work the controls at that moment. Carl glanced around the table; Ron had the next highest cards. Gleefully, Ron leaped to the controls. "Ah, ah," he shook his head, "no peeking!" In moments, he was done, and he stood with his back hiding the display. Paul gulped, then he touched the purple knob. With one last glance, he touched the inside control, and the opening vanished. When it reappeared, a bikini-clad girl with large breasts slowly emerged. Her mouth agape, she was holding her mammaries in her hands as she gawked at them. Long wavy golden tresses cascaded down around a very feminine face with full pouty lips. "Take it off, baby!" a guy hooted. Paul glanced helplessly at Carl, who nodded enthusiastically. "Let's see a show!" He raced to the stereo and turned on some music for Paul to dance. Awkwardly, his face crimson, Paul tried to dance. The movements were clumsy as he tried to adjust to the new center of gravity and large breasts. Eventually, he removed the tiny bikini and let his breasts bounce naked, the nipples firm from the chilly air. Finally, the song ended, and Paul looked at the guys, his eyes pleading for relief from his humiliation. Carl glanced around the room, and the guys shrugged. "Not very good," he judged. "Maybe you'll be better next time." Turning to hide his naked boobs, Paul retrieved his bikini top and tried to put it on. Not used to the garment, he finally gave up as the next round of poker began. "You want to sit on my lap, baby?" one of the guys said with a leer. Paul shook his head, then he sat down in his vacant chair. "Your beer," Ron reminded him. Paul took the glass and with surprising difficulty, chugged the beer. After three more rounds, with each change getting more voluptuous and curvy, Carl lost. In triumph, Paul staggered to the controls. "Can this thing make your tits super sensitive?" he wondered aloud. "Or make you super-horny?" He touched the pad, conjuring up an image. Carl started to look worried. Carl emerged as a petite woman, with auburn locks curling just above his shoulders. His breasts were of moderate size, but very firm, and his nipples immediately hardened under the tight-knit crop-top with a plunging neckline. Everyone knew that his miniskirt hid a G-string, and it showed off his very shapely legs while the waistband hugged his narrowed tummy. With his green eyes, high cheekbones, and full sensuous lips, Carl looked like he'd just stepped out of someone's wet dream. Whether it was from the alcohol in his system, from watching others, or from some clever ideas Paul had been thinking of while he operated the controls, Carl was able to put on a remarkable show. As he peeled off his top, revealing firm bare boobs capped with large dark and erect nipples, the guys cheered wildly. Carl seemed to relish the attention, and his swaying became less controlled and more erotic. Finally, the song ended and he stood, nude but for his G-string, and grinned as the guys hooted their approval. "Was I good?" Carl stammered in a soft sultry contralto as he tried to pick up the top. He staggered around wildly, causing the guys to whoop more at the way his tits jiggled around. Carl giggled, then he gave up and lurched to the table. He paused, confused, and saw that there wasn't any place for him to sit. He hadn't noticed that one of the guys had taken away a chair during Carl's dance. "Sit on my lap," one of the guys offered. Carl giggled, then picked up a beer and took a big swig. "You wish!" He scooted onto the chair beside a different guy, as half a chair seemed a far better choice than sitting on someone's lap. He saw the grin on his 'chairmate'. "If you try anything funny," he added in a threatening tone, "you'll regret it." Somehow, with Carl's high-pitched sultry voice, it didn't sound the least bit threatening; most of the guys laughed. Carl tried to chug a beer, as the game required, but couldn't. His petite body couldn't drink like his burly male body. In trying, he spilled beer down over his chest, and drunk from all the beer, giggled at the absurdity of the situation. The guy sharing a chair with Carl seized the opportunity. He pawed awkwardly and drunkenly at Carl's nude boobs, pretending to help pat up the spilled beer, but really just copping a feel. Carl's nipples, already firm, became more pronounced. Paul looked thoughtfully at Carl, whose boobs were being fondled. "You ever think about what it's like - for a girl, I mean?" he asked. Carl frowned. "You're weird!" "No," Paul defended himself quickly. "Not - gay - or anything. Just, you know, wondered. If it's better or different. You know." Steve glanced quickly at Carl. "I don't know," he said softly. "I mean, I hadn't really thought about it." Ron grinned. "Yes, you have," he countered. "Remember back in high school? You told us you wondered if Dana got as big a kick out of sex as you did." Steve felt himself blushing. "Yeah? Well I seem to remember that _you_ were wondering what it was like to have tits!" Ron flushed red. "You're nuts!" The guys laughed at Ron's embarrassment. "Well, from the looks of Carl, I'd say having tits isn't too bad!" Paul joked. Carl didn't seem to notice; his eyes were about half shut, and his breathing was deep as he obviously relished the feeling of his tits being fondled. Ron glared at Steve. "You know, I bet if you could swap places with Dana, you'd try out sex just to see what it was like." Steve took another gulp of beer. "Yeah? Well if it was Dana, maybe I might," he admitted sheepishly. He took another swig of beer and glanced around. A couple of guys had dropped out of the game; one was snoring loudly as he sprawled on a stuffed chair in the living room. Things seemed to be going more slowly; Steve knew he was quite inebriated. It was time to quit while he was ahead. But he'd just play this one last hand... He should have skipped it. He lost. Ron grinned in triumph; he'd won. "Okay, Steve, your turn!" Steve nodded slowly. "Okay. Let's get this over with." He stood unsteadily. "Is it getting hot in here?" Carl asked suddenly in his sultry voice. His nipples were still firm, and his chairmate continued to fondle them. Everyone ignored Carl, glancing instead to Steve and Ron. Ron stepped to the controls and quickly conjured up an image. "Okay. Step in." Steve glanced uneasily at Ron, then he weaved across the floor to the box. With a last glance, he stepped in the box and touched the purple crystal. When the door reappeared, Steve slowly emerged, like the others, cupping the unfamiliar breasts on his chest. If anything, he seemed even less steady on his feet, as if the effect of the alcohol had been intensified. "Okay," he stammered, and the voice echoing in his ears sounded strangely familiar. The guys were laughing wildly, and Ron took a mock bow. "What ... what did you do to me?" Steve demanded. He wasn't a huge-breasted bimbo stripper with long blonde hair; short brunette hair waved around his face, and his breasts were modest. Still, from the grins and laughs, he knew Ron was up to something. The question was answered when one of the guys led Steve to the mirror by the doorway. The face that stared back at him was ... Dana! Steve spun, confused and angry. "You said ..." he started to accuse Ron. Ron laughed. "We agreed none of _us_ would change into Dana! We didn't say anything about _you_ changing into her!" "I'm not stripping in her body!" Steve protested. He turned and nearly fell over, catching himself on the corner of the couch. Paul laughed. "You know the rules!" he reminded Steve. Steve glowered at the guys, and he knew he'd been had. After a few moments, he slowly nodded his head. "Okay," he said softly. Then he glanced at Carl, still in the female body and being fondled under the table. "One dance. Then you change me back and I'm going home." "After the next hand," Ron reminded him with a leering grin. Steve started to dance, awkwardly. It was hard to keep time to the music, and his coordination seemed to have vanished. As the guys hooted and cheered, demanding more, he slowly took off his bra. He cupped the breasts, unwilling to show them to the guys, and was instantly amazed at how sensitive they seemed. As the music ended, he saw motion in the corner of his eye, and suddenly, he saw _himself_ standing, leering, beside him! "What?" he demanded softly as he struggled to comprehend what had happened through the alcohol-induced fog. Ron leered down at Steve. "So, Dana," he mocked, "you want to have a last quickie before you're married?" The voice, the body, everything was Steve's. Steve felt fear and confusion. "Get out of my body!" he screamed, cowering from the false-Steve and covering his naked boobs. "Get away from me!" Ron grinned, then staggered back to the poker table, where the guys were laughing uproariously at the new gag. "Your loss," he said as he sat down. Steve pulled on his bra and sat down. He had to sit through another hand to get his body back - those were the rules. He glanced at the empty chair, and suddenly realized that he'd missed Carl leaving the table. And the guy whose chair he'd been sharing - he was missing, too. Steve took a sip of beer. So he'd finish this one hand. Then he could change back and go home before things got any weirder than they already were. But first, he decided, he had to get back at Ron. His head felt a little light; Steve knew he was a bit tipsy. Still, he could hold his beer with the best of them. Certainly better than Ron. He smiled to himself. That would give him the chance he needed... ********** The first sign of consciousness to Steve came in the form of a pounding headache. Slowly, he raised his hands to his throbbing head. It didn't ... feel ... right. The one semi-coherent thought Steve had was that his hangover was the cause. He sat up slowly, his eyes screwed tightly shut against the light streaming through the window. Slowly, he opened his eyes and glanced around, trying to remember what had happened. He saw others - in the bed with him. He recognized their faces. He gasped, and the sound in his ears was too soft, too ... feminine. Steve winced, and he glanced down slowly, as if to delay discovering what he was certain he'd find. His hands lifted of their own to cup the breasts on his bare chest. Even that action was a shock - his hands weren't his own. They were too soft, too feminine. Steve lurched from the bed, feeling the awkwardness of motion which he knew wasn't a result of the hangover. The shock of what he'd seen had banished the aftereffects of the previous night's drinking. He staggered to the bathroom, feeling the unfamiliar weights bobbing on his chest, trying his best to ignore them. Already certain what he'd see, and yet hoping beyond hope he was wrong, Steve flipped on the light. What he saw was worse than what he'd feared. Dana's face stared back at him from the mirror. ********** Dana frowned as she climbed the steps to Carl's house. She pried the sleeve of her parka back and glanced once more at her watch, then she knocked on the door. Her anger was simmering - but not at Steve. Steve would never be this irresponsible. The fact that he wasn't home, hadn't answered the phone, and was going to be late for rehearsal was the fault of his juvenile friends. She was trying hard not to imagine some of the things that Ron and the others might have done - as a gag. A couple of seconds was all she was willing to wait before her knock became an insistent pounding. The door opened, and Dana pushed her way in, past a semi- naked, well-endowed, auburn-haired girl. "Where is he?" she demanded as she glanced around the living room. "Who?" the girl asked, squinting against the bright light even as she shut the door. "Oh," she said suddenly. "Steve." Dana nodded, then she scowled. "Who the _hell_ are you? And you better not be screwing around with Steve!" Her words were menacing to the unknown girl. The girl clutched at her head. "Shhh!" she hissed. "Not so loud!" Dana didn't care if the girl was hung over or not. "Who are you?" she demanded again. The girl frowned, then she glanced down. "Oh, you didn't recognize me, Dana," she laughed softly. "It's me, Carl." Dana frowned. "Carl?" She shook her head. "Yeah, right." She glanced around the living room again, searching for Steve. The room looked like a war zone; one guy lay passed out on the floor, another sprawled on the sofa, and a third slept in a recliner. Beer cans were strewn about, and chip and pretzel crumbs were ground into the carpet. And there was some kind of strange metal telephone booth. Dana, not seeing Steve's face among the drinking victims, glared at the naked girl again. Then she heard a woman scream. With the auburn-haired girl following, Dana raced down the short hallway, bursting through the door into Carl's bedroom. It was Dana's turn to scream. Sprawled on the bed and floor were at least four Steves. She glanced at the girl, then around the room again, at the Steves. The room swirled, and her senses reeled, as she took in the impossible. "Steve?" she called out in a weak, almost helpless plea. The Steves were stirring - slightly, and Dana glanced around, looking for a response. Then she heard the door across the room opening, and she glanced up. Slowly, fearfully, a figure emerged from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around her body. Dana screamed again when she recognized herself. She sank back onto the bed, barely managing to sit and avoid fainting at the shock. Steve, in Dana's body, tiptoed across the room. "Dana?" he asked carefully, as if not trusting his eyes. "It's me ... Steve." Based on what she'd seen so far, Dana was thoroughly confused. She nodded. "Are you ... really Steve?" she asked tentatively. Multiple Steves, herself, a girl claiming to be Carl - Dana had to consider that the girl claiming to be Carl was speaking the truth. And that meant that her twin was really Steve. Steve nodded slowly, then wiped at his cheek. Dana saw the moist trails, and knew he'd been crying. That was very out-of- character for Steve. "What ... what's going on here?" she blurted out. The auburn-haired girl claiming to be Carl sighed. "It's a long story," she said softly. Dana frowned. "It looks like it." Steve winced, knowing it was far more involved than Dana knew. Then again, glancing at the semi-nude Steve clones in the room, he started to wonder if perhaps she was already guessing what he feared. Carl flinched. "We ... uh, that is, Ron, found some kind of magic box. It ... er, we, uh, were playing poker at the party last night." He looked down, embarrassed. Dana glanced around, then looked at Carl. "You're saying this thing changes people, and you changed into a girl?" Carl nodded sheepishly. "And you changed Steve ... into me?" Carl nodded again, looking down to avoid Dana's accusing glare. "So what's with all these guys? Are they your friends? You changed them into Steve?" One of the Steves sat up, and then rubbed his eyes and shook his head. "Huh?" he said, confused. Dana spun on him angrily. "Who the hell are you?" she demanded. The guy gulped, then he levered himself onto his elbows. "It's me - Steve!" he insisted. Steve - the real Steve in Dana's body - spun to the guy. "No, you're not!" he screamed. The guy glanced between the two Danas, then he shrugged and grinned. "Okay, I'm really Ron," he admitted. The real Dana frowned; she knew Ron's reputation. The others were stirring, and the confusion was going to get worse. She grabbed Steve. "You, and you," she pointed to Carl, "and you," another point toward Ron. "Come with me." Dragging the reluctant towel-clad copy of her body, she marched back toward the dining room. ********** "Okay," Dana said with a frown, glancing around the table. "Let's see if I understand your story. When you got bored at the party, you started playing a game with the box, right?" She watched the other three nod. "Each hand of poker, the loser had to do a strip tease - as a girl, right?" Again, the nods provided confirmation. Dana shook her head. "And you changed Steve into me, right?" Steve and Carl glanced at Ron, who lowered his head and nodded. "It was just a joke," he said, trying to defend his gag. "You're sick!" Dana spat at him. "Then what?" She glanced at Steve. Steve shook his head slowly. "I ... I'm not sure." He looked down, as if studying the towel wrapped around his torso. "I was dancing, and then I started to drink a beer for the next round. The next thing that I'm really sure of, I was waking up ... in there." Dana glared at him, then she turned her wrathful gaze to Carl. Carl shook his head. "I ... I don't know, either," he admitted, staring down into his still-naked cleavage. "I ... wasn't there." Dana shook her head, then looked at Ron. "What happened?" Ron glanced at Carl, then at Steve, then he lowered his gaze to his fingers intertwined on the table. "Uh, I guess we got a little carried away," he said. Steve's eyes widened, then he looked down, knowing that his face was turning crimson. "Uh, it wasn't a dream, was it?" He winced. "We really ... you know." Dana's eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. "You mean ...?" she stammered. Ron glanced at Steve, then he lowered his head again. "We ... it was supposed to be a joke!" he insisted softly. "We were talking about what it was like. You know. For girls." He knew his face was bright red, and he fought his embarrassment. He looked up sharply at Steve. "It was your idea, anyway!" he accused. "_My_ idea?" Ron nodded defiantly. "You said you were curious. And that you'd switch if it was with Dana!" Dana felt like her confusion was going to engulf her, swirling her away from this suddenly-weird reality. "What?" she stammered to Steve. "_You_ said that?" Steve winced. "I don't know," he said, looking like he was about to start crying - again. "I ... I guess I did." "When you didn't change back after your turn, we kind of thought you, you know, _wanted_ to," Ron muttered weakly. "Jim changed first, and you didn't seem to put up much of a fight. Then you said something about if one Steve was good ..." He shook his head. "It sounded funny last night!" he protested feebly. Steve wiped at the tears that wouldn't stop. "I was drunk," he sniffled. "You weren't supposed to take me seriously!" Dana scowled and glanced at her watch. "I'd _love_ to hear the rest of this ... weird story. But we're going to be late for rehearsal if we don't get going." Her eyes and the tone of her voice left no doubt that she wanted to help Steve get even for this misbegotten prank. And a little bit for herself, too. After all, it had been her body that the guys had ... played with. "Let's get changed back, and then we'll settle this after rehearsal." Carl glanced at Ron nervously. They knew Dana had a habit of getting even, and this one was going to cost them. Somehow, some way, she was going to get her vengeance for this weird ... prank. Ron nodded. "Okay," he said softly. "I'll get the others." In a few moments, four more Steves, all groggy, joined the group in the living room by the box. Dana had herded the unchanged party-goers out, sending them home half awake and hung over. And one by one, with an angry Dana watching, the changed guys touched the control plate, entered the machine, restored their bodies, and were themselves shoved out the door. "Okay, I'll go next." Ron stepped toward the machine. Dana blocked his way. "Oh, no you don't," she said menacingly. Ron stopped short. "But ...?" He was confused. Dana turned and touched the red control. With a malicious grin, she conjured up an image. Then, her body obscuring the panel, she turned back. "Now you change." "But ..." Ron turned to Carl for support, then to Steve. Steve spun away, angry and humiliated by what Ron had done to him. "Now!" Dana demanded. Ron gave in and entered the machine. In a few moments, he emerged, not in his own body, but in a body that almost exactly matched Carl's. The primary difference was that Ron's tits were a size bigger. He stared down at them, then looked up plaintively at Dana. "But ...?" Dana shook her head, cutting off his protest. "You can stay like that for a while. As a down payment." She glared at Carl. "You, too." Ron gulped. He'd underestimated the extent of Dana's potential wrath. "But ...?" Dana ignored his feeble protests. "Now let's get you fixed," she said to Steve, for the first time sounding sympathetic. Steve eagerly stepped to the control. In moments, with one spiteful glance toward Ron, he stepped into the device and the opening vanished. When the doorway reappeared, a very confused Steve stepped out - still in Dana's body! "What's going on?" he stammered, staring down at the breasts hanging from his chest. Dana's mouth dropped open and her eyes widened. Then she glanced at Ron. Wide-eyed, surprised as all of them, Ron shrugged helplessly. "I don't know," he stammered. "It always worked before. Try again. Steve stepped inside again, and once more emerged unchanged - still in Dana's body. "Something's wrong with the box!" he wailed. Carl glanced at Dana, then pushed her aside and touched the controls. After a brief moment, he stepped into the box - and emerged in his own body. He looked at the controls, puzzled. "I don't get it," he said softly. Steve touched the plate, then went back inside. Once more, he emerged still as Dana. After several more futile attempts, Dana was very frustrated and angry, and Steve was despondent. "What the hell did you guys do to this?" Dana demanded. "And we've got to get to a wedding rehearsal!" Steve sighed as he glanced at the clock hanging on the wall. "We're going to be late," he sighed. "What are we going to do?" Carl stepped forward. "I could substitute for Steve for the rehearsal," he offered meekly. He glanced warily at Dana. "Just for the rehearsal," he added quickly. Steve glared at him, still angry at what had transpired so far. "Right idea, wrong person," he said decisively. He shooed the two out of the living room, then turned to Dana. "For right now, I guess, I'm going to be you, and you'll pretend to be me. After rehearsal, we'll get this straightened out." Dana glanced at him, questioning what he was telling her, but she slowly realized it was the only solution. "I guess we don't have a choice, do we?" she asked. Steve shook his head. "No, we don't." He touched the controls, got his body on the display, then nodded. At the last moment, he grabbed Dana's arm. "Wait a second," he said. "Take off your clothes." "What?" Dana asked, incredulous. Steve sighed, then glanced down at his towel. "I need your clothes. From what we saw with the other guys, this thing will make clothes for you. So give me your clothes. Unless you'd rather I went naked out in the cold." It took a few minutes for them to swap clothes, then for Dana to change. When they finished, Carl and Ron came back into the room. "You," Dana said to Carl, "are going to change back." Carl glanced at Dana, then at Steve. "But ... Steve, tell her it wasn't my fault!" he protested. Steve glared at Carl. "I'm Dana. It was your party, your house, so you have to take some of the responsibility for this mess." Carl glanced at Dana. "Steve, please tell her." Steve shook his head. "Sorry, buddy." He gestured to the opening in the box. Carl could have run. He could have fought, and won. But Carl had a strong sense of fair play and guilt and remorse, and he knew he'd had to bear some responsibility for what happened. "This is only temporary, right?" he asked hopefully. ********** "You're going to wear that?" Dana asked in astonishment as Steve emerged from her bedroom. "What's wrong with it?" Steve asked, a little surprised. He was wearing a long sleeved casual shirt and a pair of loose jeans. "It's comfortable." "It's a _wedding_ rehearsal! My family is going to be there! I can't be dressed like I'm doing yardwork or something!" Dana wrinkled her nose and frowned. "And my ... your ... hair is a _mess_!" Dana added quickly. Steve scowled. "But ... the rest of your stuff ... it's so ..." he winced, "feminine!" Dana shook her head. "So are _you_. At least for the rehearsal." She grabbed Steve by the arm and led him back into the bedroom. Quickly, Dana rummaged through the closet. "This ought to do," she said to herself as she retrieved a couple of hangers. She dropped them on the bed, then quickly retrieved some items from Dana's dresser. "This will work." Steve sat on the bed, his mouth open in astonishment as he stared at the clothing. He'd 'borrowed' the real Dana's clothes - an old, worn pair of jeans and a loose sweater, and it was obvious he didn't like the clothing he was now expected to wear. "But..." he started to protest. Dana cut the protest short. "I'm not having _my_ body show up looking like some hick tramp at _my_ wedding rehearsal. So get going!" Steve stared at Dana, then realized he had to comply. He nodded slowly. "I guess so," he said grudgingly as she started to peel off his sweater. "If I'm going to look like you, I suppose I ought to dress and act like you, too." Dana nodded, then smiled. "Thank you, Steve," she said softly. "Or Dana." She shook her head. "We're going to have to be careful about that so we don't slip up." She sat down beside Steve and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, affectionately giving him a half-hug. Steve smiled. "Thanks." He patted Dana's hand, grateful for the show of support. Then he pulled free and stood, unfastening his jeans and starting to wriggle out of them. Dana watched, then smiled. She'd never really had an opportunity to watch her body - really watch it, study it, appreciate it's form. And its beauty. Now, in Steve's body, Dana was doing exactly that. Like most girls, Dana had grown up thinking she was fat, or ugly, or in some other way not attractive. Now, watching from the outside, it was evident that Dana was _not_ unattractive. Dana's body was an inch or two taller than average. Unlike the glamour magazine-inspired ideal, Dana was not a starving waif, but also not plump. Dana's body tread that middle ground - with enough body fat to accentuate the womanly curves of her hips and breasts, but not enough to detract from a smooth tummy and attractive waistline. "What?" Steve asked suddenly, aware of the stare and grin on Dana's face. Dana shrugged and smiled. "I guess I never really saw my body before." She watched Steve pick up a pair panty hose and laughed. "No, no," she chuckled. "Panties first. Then panty hose." Steve scowled. "Sorry," he said in a huff. "I never had a chance to practice with women's clothes before." Dana laughed. "I wasn't trying to be critical. I was just making an observation." She leaned back, arms splayed behind to prop up her torso. After a moment, she sat back up. "No, no. Bunch up the hose so you don't ... like this!" She took the panty hose from Steve and demonstrated. "It goes on a lot easier." Steve frowned. "I'll be glad to get back in my own body," he said with genuine conviction. He picked up the blouse - an ecru long- sleeved cotton shirt with colorful red and yellow and green floral embroidery. "This is so ... " He visibly recoiled from the feminine garb. Dana smiled. "I know. You think it's too feminine. But it's what _I_ would wear, so you have to wear it. Uh, uh!" Dana called out quickly. "Put your bra on first." She watched, amused, as Steve struggled with the bra, then with the 'reversed' buttons of a lady's blouse. Finally, Steve pulled on his long khaki skirt and buttoned it. "Okay?" Steve asked, frustration in his voice, as he spread his arms to display the outfit. Dana nodded appreciatively. "You look ... very nice," she said, causing Steve to blush. "But no tennis shoes!" she added as she saw Steve eyeing the tennis shoes on the floor. She retrieved a pair of brown high-heeled boots. "Here." Steve stared at them for several moments. "I'll break my neck if I fall off these things!" he declared. Then he saw the smile on Dana's face, and slowly, a wry grin crept across her features. "I guess I get to walk a mile in your shoes." He sat down and pulled on the boots, zipping them quickly and noting how tightly they fit his calves. "Okay? Dana gave her body the up-and-down once over. She wrinkled his nose. "Well, the clothes are okay. But your hair is a mess! And you need to put on some makeup!" ********** Steve sat in the passenger seat of Dana's car, scowling, with his arms crossed. "Oh, come on," Dana pleaded as she drove. "Aunt Sue is just trying to be nice." "_Your_ Aunt Sue!" Steve snapped. "I'm getting tired of this! 'You look so thin!' 'Are you eating enough?' 'You look radiant.' 'You'll be such a lovely bride!' I'm _tired_ of being radiant! I'm sick of the wind blowing around this skirt, and freezing my legs! I'm tired of _your_ aunts and _your_ sisters and _your_ mother offering me advice about our honeymoon! I'm sick of _your_ bra digging into _your_ boobs!" He resumed his pout. "I'm tired of being stuck in your body. I want to be _me_ again!" Dana winced. The rehearsal had been a pain - for Steve. All of Steve's family made such a fuss over him, not knowing it was really Steve in Dana's body. Dana's mother criticized him for his posture, critiqued the way he walked down the aisle, and fussed over making sure 'Dana' remembered his lines. Dana's two sisters, her cousin, and her college friend - bridesmaids all - kept embarrassing him with very lewd jokes when no one else could hear. Dana's aunts, including the large and overbearing Aunt Sue, seemed determined to hug him to death. Comparatively, Dana had gotten off easy. "Look, I know it was a long rehearsal. And I know you wanted to change as soon as it was over. But we can't duck out of this!" Dana pleaded. Steve scowled again. "I know," he said bitterly. "But it'll be almost midnight by the time we get back, and ... well, what if it doesn't work?" He sounded genuinely worried. Dana sighed and shook her head. "It'll work." Inwardly, she wasn't as confident as she tried to sound. "Besides," she added, trying to lighten the tone, "I'm not having an easy time in your body, either!" Steve stared at her. "What do you mean?" Dana laughed nervously. "I _hate_ going to the bathroom with your ... thing! It seems like anything that happens, it gets ... you know ... stiff!" Steve stifled a laugh. "Oh?" he asked cautiously. Dana shook his head. "Yeah. If I so much as touch it, it's like ... instantly hard. Try to pee down with it pointing up!" She suppressed a shudder. "And I think my college roommate ... er, your roommate ... was trying to get me ... horny! She kept brushing against me - with her boobs - and winking, and her perfume ... " Dana shuddered anew at the memory. "Does perfume do that to guys? You know, make them excited?" Steve tried hard not to giggle, but he failed. "Yeah," he finally managed to say through guffaws, "it doesn't take much. And yes, Corinne _was_ flirting with you." "Oh." Dana lapsed into silent contemplation for a bit. "If this body is so easily excited, can we, you know, do some testing?" Steve's mouth dropped open. "What ...?" He didn't want to consider where he _thought_ Dana's thinking was headed. Dana saw Steve's astonishment and laughed. "Just kidding," she said with a grin. Then she looked tilted her head to one side. "But _you_ got to give it a try, and I didn't," she said thoughtfully. She saw the shock on Steve's face. "It'd be, I don't know, sort of fair." Steve frowned. "I was drunk." "Did you like it?" Dana asked, half playfully and half seriously. Steve shook his head, frowning. "I was drunk. I don't really remember." His protests seemed to ring a bit hollow. ********** "Well, what did you think?" Steve frowned. "It was almost as bad as the rehearsal." Dana nodded. "Yeah." She stopped talking to pull the car into Steve's apartment parking lot. She pulled the car to a halt next to the fence around the house, then she glanced at Steve. "You feeling okay?" Steve nodded. "Yeah, I guess so." "I told you to go easy on the wine." Steve shrugged. "It's just a little buzz, that's all." "Uh, huh." Dana didn't sound convinced. "Okay, let's go get changed back." She walked around the car and opened Steve's door, then offered a hand to help steady him. Steve stood, then as they started to walk toward the door, one foot slipped from under him. Only Dana's quick reflexes kept him from falling as she caught him. He ended up awkwardly close, pressed tightly against Dana's chest. For a moment, Steve found the situation oddly exciting. He wondered if Dana was finding the situation as interesting. Abruptly, though, he shook off those thoughts. They were too dangerous. "Thanks," he said as he stood back up. "I guess I _did_ have a little too much." Dana nodded, swallowing hard. It had felt ... nice ... to her, too. But she quickly attributed it to the wine and forced such thoughts from her head. "I thought mom was a bit rude with her comments about not eating so much." Steve laughed uneasily. "I thought she was downright nasty. 'Don't eat so much that you can't fit into your wedding dress'," he said mocking Steve's mother's tone. "She treats you like you're still a little girl! I don't know why you put up with it." Dana shrugged. "I guess I'll always be her little baby," she observed. "And it could be worse." She opened the door and reached in to turn on a light. Steve walked in and glanced around. There, in the corner, was the magic box. Their salvation from the strange torture they were undergoing. He glanced nervously at Dana. Dana read her gaze. "Yeah, me too," she said simply, echoing the nervousness she _knew_ Steve was feeling. Without any further words, they walked to the box, and Steve touched the control. After getting his real body displayed, he touched the purple knob, and with a long nervous glance over his shoulder, he entered the box. ********** Steve's expression was a mix of defeat and fatalistic acceptance of a fate beyond his control. Tears started to stream from Steve's eyes as he shook his head. "Why won't it work?" he asked over and over. Dana wrapped him in her arms, pulling him close, and let him cry. Eventually, Steve, tired from the changes, weary from the long day, emotionally exhausted by the entire ordeal, and a little inebriated, fell asleep. Gently, Dana carried him back to her bed and tucked him in. As she turned to leave her apartment, she glanced at the magic box, the silent gray metal demon which had so radically changed their lives. She shook her head softly, cursing under her breath, and wondering when it would cooperate and let them change back. ********** "Sorry, Steve, but you _can't_ see her." Dana's mom peered through a crack in the door at who she thought was Steve, resolve etched on her face. "Not on your wedding day. Tradition." "But ... I've got to get ... Dana has something I need to get before the wedding," Dana protested weakly. Mom frowned, then she closed the door. For a moment, Dana hoped she was going to let her in. Instead, she returned and opened the door again - just a crack. She passed a metal attache case out. "Dana said you'd be looking for this." She closed the door again, and Dana heard the deadbolt slide into place. She shook her head and felt like screaming. She should have known Dana's mom - her mom - would do something like this. To her mom, this was a last chance to relive, vicariously, the thrill of her own wedding. She'd probably barged in around seven, and would be inseparable from Steve until he marched down the aisle. Reluctantly, Dana picked up the case and trudged back to Steve's car. Tossing the case roughly into the back seat, she flopped down. Now what? How were she and Steve going to try changing back now? It suddenly occurred to her that Steve would be feeling as much a prisoner of the overenthusiastic mother as she felt locked out. She quickly drove back to Steve's house and bolted inside. She reached for the phone, but then stopped. No, Steve's mom would make sure Steve wasn't bothered with phone calls. It was too important a day to bother with trivial matters like phone calls. And she'd _never_ let Dana talk to Steve. Tradition, as she'd said. But ... Dana smiled as she walked to Steve's computer. Fortunately, Steve had broadband through a cable modem, just like Dana. So, if he was on-line ... The instant message program seemed to take forever to load. 'About time you thought of this.' Dana frowned. Just like the real Steve to act like this. 'Sorry. Any luck?' 'I tried again this morning. No luck.' 'Now what?' Dana could sense his frustration, even through the electronic communication. 'I don't know. Maybe Ron made it so I can't change back?' Dana thought a moment. 'That would be just like him to fix it so only he could change you back.' 'How do we fix it if he did that?' Dana grinned maliciously to herself. 'Let me talk to him. If he wants to change back from the redhead sexpot, he'll cooperate.' 'Have Ron meet me at the bride's room at the church - with the box.' 'Will do. Gotta run to get him.' Dana signed off and grabbed her jacket. In ten minutes, she pulled up to Carl's house and bounded to the door, guessing that Ron and Carl would not be venturing out in their female bodies. She barged in without knocking. "Carl?" she asked when he spied a robe-wrapped girl sitting morosely on the sofa watching TV. "Nope," the girl answered, trying her best _not_ to sound sultry. "He's out feeding the cattle." "Ron?" Dana asked, knowing her guess had been correct. The girl nodded. "We need your help." Ron scowled. "For what? And why should I help you, anyway?" Dana's eyes narrowed menacingly. "Because of what you did to Steve and I," she answered. "Because you want your own body back." Ron glared at Dana, then he nodded slowly. "Deal." Dana nodded. "Did you do anything special with the change to Dana? Like make it that we couldn't change him back or something?" Ron shook his head. "No," he said softly. "Not that I know." "But you might have been thinking it?" Ron's mouth dropped open, then he nodded slightly. "I guess I might have thought about it." Dana grabbed Ron's arm and pulled him off the sofa. "Come on," she said, insistently. "What? Where?" he protested. As she struggled, her robe slipped off, revealing her naked body. "We're going to the wedding. You're going to try to get us back to normal," Dana explained. Dana's head spun when she heard the door open. "What ...?" a girl's voice called from behind her. Dana glanced at the newcomer - a virtual twin of Ron. Then she glanced at Ron, standing nude as Dana held his arm. She realized, belatedly, that it didn't look very good. "Carl?" she asked, hesitantly. "This isn't what it looks like." Carl frowned. "I know what it looks like," he said. "And I know you wouldn't do anything like that. So what is it?" Dana vented a sigh of relief. "Steve got an idea that maybe Ron made the change something only he can undo. We're going to the church to see if we can straighten this out." "But ... but we're _girls_!" Carl protested. "And ... what are we going to wear?" Dana closed his eyes and sighed. She hadn't thought of that one. The girls had zero, zip zilch, nada to wear. "Okay," she finally said. "Pull on some of Carl's clothes. I'll ... figure out something." The two girls, with a glance over their shoulders, scooted off to Carl's room. Dana stared at the floor and thought furiously. After a moment, she grabbed the phone and punched in a number. "Come on, be there!" she pleaded insistently as the phone rang on the other end. "Oh, Leslie? It's ... Steve. Listen, I need a favor. My ... cousins got in late last night." She shook his head, even though Leslie couldn't see his action. "No, their luggage ... got lost ... um, on the flight. Yeah. Yeah, they need something ... nice ... to wear." She smiled. "Yeah, if you could do that, I'd really appreciate it. No, I'd take them, but I've got to start getting ready and do the picture thing. No, I'll pay. Thanks. See you at my place in a few minutes? Thanks. I owe you one." She hung up the phone. "Carl? Ron? Hurry it up. We've got to go." Dana glanced at the clock, then called again. "Move it." Carl and Ron emerged from the bedroom dressed in ill-fitting jeans and sweatshirts. They looked glum, as if by going out, they'd been sentenced to a fate worse than death. "Come on," Dana insisted as she opened the door. The trio piled into Steve's car, and Dana pulled out onto the road. "Okay, here's the story. You're my cousins from LA. You got into Omaha late last night, and the airline lost your luggage. Leslie is going to get you something ... appropriate ... to wear to the church, and you'll meet us there." "But ... does that mean a dress?" Ron protested. Dana nodded. She was driving at breakneck speed to Steve's house - they were going to cut it pretty close as it was. "I'm not going to wear a dress to church," Carl said firmly, crossing his arms under his breasts. Dana shrugged. "Suit yourself. You won't change back then, either." Carl frowned, then he pouted as they pulled into Dana's drive. Leslie wasn't there - yet. Dana and the 'girls' got out just moments before Leslie's car rounded the corner. Dana saw the frowns on the girls' faces as they got into Leslie's car; she was already talking about a quick stop at her place to do something with their hair - and she knew they'd probably get a little makeup, too. Somehow, given that she was stuck in Steve's body and Steve in hers, it seemed an altogether appropriate punishment. ********** Ron, still in the body of the sultry redhead, shook his head, his expression glum. "It didn't work." Dana closed her eyes and sighed heavily. "That's what I was afraid of," she said softly. She sank back into the chair and sighed again. "You know, this isn't exactly the way I imagined my wedding day." Inwardly, her heart ached and she fought back tears. She'd always imagined herself in a beautiful white dress, going down the aisle on the arm of her dad to be given away. Now, she was going to miss that. She was going to miss _all_ the wedding dreams she'd so looked forward to. Somehow, she couldn't cry. The tears just wouldn't come. She wondered if it were something about Steve's body, or men in general, that made it harder to express emotions. Maybe it was her anger at Ron and Carl, or her frustration. Even though her heart ached, she couldn't cry. One of the twins, now dressed in a form-fitting deep blue dress and with hair curled, sat down in a very unfeminine fashion on another chair. "I know what you mean," he said. "I never thought I'd be at _any_ wedding as a bridesmaid." He saw Dana's glare. "You know what I mean. In a dress instead of in a suit." Dana frowned. "Well, at least Leslie did a good job. You both look darling," she said sarcastically, causing Ron to turn away in embarrassment. Carl lowered his head. "Steve ... Dana ... hell, this is confusing!" Carl protested. "What am I supposed to call you?" Dana shook her head. "You're supposed to call me Steve. And call him Dana. Just like you two are Alison and Angie until we get it all straightened out." Carl nodded. "Steve said we can change back after the reception is over. He said that would be enough punishment." Dana nodded. "Okay." She glanced at her watch. "Look, you two better get up and get some seats. The show starts in a few minutes." She stood slowly and adjusted her cumberbund. "And don't screw up!" she called after the girls. ********** "Are you all set, dear?" Dana's mom was making more of a fuss than Steve could stand. Steve glanced at the clock, glad that the ordeal was nearly over. "Yes, mom, I'm ready." The older woman held out her arms and embraced Steve. "You look wonderful," the mother-of-the-bride blubbered. She paused to dab at her tears. "It's almost time to start," Steve said, trying desperately not to sound impatient. "Do you have something old?" Mom asked, double-checking. Steve sighed; he had Dana's grandmother's old lace handkerchief tucked away where Dana's mom had put it. "Yes, mom. Grandma's hankie." "And borrowed?" Steve nodded again. "Tina loaned me her ...." He felt himself blushing; he didn't know that it was called a bustier, and he was embarrassed to be talking about women's underwear. He felt the garment trying to constrict his ribcage and push _his_ bosoms up and out. He glanced down, and saw the cleavage the undergarment had enhanced. Steve blushed at what it looked like, and the thought of how he'd appear. "What about something blue?" One of the bridesmaids named Suzie gasped. "Oops. I almost forgot." She rushed from the room. A couple of minutes later, she returned, carrying a blue garter belt. "Here." Putting on the garter belt was another of the many humiliations Steve had to suffer. As Suzie helped him, she leaned close to Steve. "You look great, _Steve_," she said with a wink. Steve recoiled at Suzie's words. "What ... how ... who told you?" he finally whispered. Suzie smiled pleasantly, in case anyone else saw her. "Paul. He _showed_ me what Ron's magic box can do. We ... sort of tried it the night he found it," she whispered with a huge grin. "So I know he wasn't making it up." Steve tried to look calm, but he felt frustration and anger building. "Keep it quiet," he hissed through a forced smile. "Or else." Suzie's smile didn't fade. "It'll be a little secret between us 'girls'." She straightened and smiled. "There. All set now." Mom stepped in and gave Steve a quick hug. "I think it's time." Steve followed Dana's mom and the bridesmaids. As the music started, the flower girl and the ring bearer walked stiffly down the aisle. Then the bridesmaids entered, one at a time, walking slowly and gracefully. At the end of the aisle, they met the groomsmen, and a pair at a time, they marched up toward the altar. Finally, it was just Steve in the back with Dana's dad, and Dana at the head of the aisle waiting. "Ready, sweetie?" Dana's dad seemed as nervous as Steve felt. Steve nodded. The music changed to the bridal march. Slowly, feeling nervous, and hoping that he looked graceful, Steve marched with Dana's dad down the aisle, toward a wedding with Dana. ********** "Smile," Dana whispered as she held Steve's hand. Together, they were about to cut the cake, and everyone was watching. Steve forced a smile. "I'm getting tired of smiling," he whispered back. "This ... thing ... is killing me." Dana felt a pang of sympathy. Wedding dresses weren't really advertised as being the ultimate in comfort. "The way they're looking at us, I feel like the whole town knows." Steve nodded, still feigning a smile. "Damn Suzie and her big mouth." The cut the cake, then gave exchanged pieces. They sipped their champagne, their arms intertwined, and the photographer snapped picture after picture. Finally, that ritual was done. "Can we sit down now?" Steve pleaded softly. Dana nodded. "These shoes are killing my feet." "Try heels!" Steve snapped back softly. "I _have_!" Dana responded in a soft whisper. "Look at Ron and Carl," Dana whispered to Steve as he held the chair for her to sit. Steve grinned. "Every single guy in town is trying to hit on them!" he laughed softly. "They don't look any too happy, though. But they get to change back after the dance?" Steve sighed. "Yeah. I did promise them that." ********** Steve strode purposefully onto the dance floor. His train was fastened up in a bulky bustle, and he had to avoid the guests dancing around him. He came up behind Dana, dancing with his friend Leslie. "Dana," he said loudly so as to be heard over the music. Dana paused and glanced at Steve. "Can't you let me finish my dance?" she asked. Steve shook his head. "The pastor just told me the front is moving faster than expected. If we don't get out of here now, we might not make it to Omaha." "And miss our flights ...." Dana sighed, then she leaned over toward Leslie. "Sorry, but we've got to get moving. Weather." Leslie smiled and nodded, then walked with Dana and Steve off the dance floor. They retreated to a side room, where they changed from the tuxedo and wedding dress into dress-casual clothes more suited to travel. "Bags in the car?" Dana asked. Steve nodded. "All set. Including the box." "Good. We'll change when we get to the hotel." They picked up their coats, then strode through the dance hall, pausing to have a quick word with Steve's parents. The DJ saw the motion and interrupted the music. "It looks like the happy couple is leaving to start their honeymoon. Let's all give them a sendoff to warm, sunny Hawaii." Dana and Steve waved, then they ducked outside quickly, trying to avoid any further ado. Besides, everyone would be busy dancing and drinking and having fun. ********** "Ready?" Dana sat in the warm car, glancing at the snow falling outside. "After three weeks in Hawaii," Steve said wistfully, "no." Dana nodded. "Yeah, I know what you mean. But we couldn't stay there forever. Let's go." She opened the door, climbed out, and circled the car to open the door for Steve. With their carry-on bags in hand, they walked through the snow to the porch of Steve's house. Surprisingly, the door was unlocked. Dana frowned and glanced warily at Steve. "Surprise!" came the shouts from inside as they stepped through the door. A large 'Welcome Home, Newlyweds!' sign hung across the wall, and over two dozen friends and family members were crowding into Steve's dining room. Dana and Steve smiled as they looked around at the well-wishers - they hadn't expected anything like this. Steve's face fell when he saw the twin auburn-haired girls. "Oh, shit!" he whispered insistently to Dana. "We forgot to change Carl and Ron back like I promised." Dana winced. "And they don't know that the box isn't working any more." "But ... what the hell?" St