The Burning Candle free porn video

This story is incomplete. It is also less than a quarter the size of what I intend the final story to be. It should be long enough, and contain enough transformations, to satisfy your needs. I appreciate criticism on storyline, characters, etc. However, please do not criticize its grammar and spelling, unless you are willing to help me edit. :-D Do not repost this story in any place. It is a working copy, and the sole reason I'm posting it on Fictionmania is to get the inspiration to continue if the story is worthwhile. Author's important note: I slander women many times in this story. I do not feel that women are inferior to men intellectually or emotionally by any means. A number of sexual- intellectual topics are discussed in the story and many of them are based on scientific truth's (sexual selection = breast size); but the rest are possibilities that I pretty much just made them up (women's gait restricting movement). I hope no one is offended, please enjoy the story. Prologue: Written in limited third person. A dull roar of voices rose from the party. John handed the beer from his left hand to his right in a nervous gesture. Too nervous to pick up a conversation with any girl, he stood in the corner by the fuzzy red couch. Freshman year had been fun, so far. He had been really uncomfortable meeting the girls in his hall. But he did meet some guys in the dorm next-door who were nice and would play video games with him and his roommate. Other than that though, the only friends at school he had were two that he convinced to go to school with him from home in Palatka. He enjoyed his life there, but the parties that his roommate Roger brought him to always made him feel uncomfortable and inferior. A girl with straight pale legs flicked her sandal on and off her shoe as she twirled her finger in her shoulder length blonde hair. She was rubbing the guy's thigh on her right that she was flirting with. John lifted his left leg and rested it against the wall. He glanced around, bobbing his head to the music to appear as if he was actually not the lamest person in the universe. He tried to guess what percentage of the guys were going to go home with a woman. His roommate stood by the keg getting crazy-drunk. At the moment, he was waving his arms while a couple girls giggled around him. He continued scanning, and locked eyes with a girl standing against the doorway, with her hands on her hips. But it was hard to tell it was a girl. Her black hair was wasted in a pixie cut, her lips naturally pink and pouty, but devoid of makeup. Her eyes were dark and exotic, John couldn't tell the difference between her pupil and her iris. Her breasts had the plumpness of someone who was slightly overweight. Her shirt was black and thin, and fell over her breasts showing their shape, as well as her wide nipples that stuck out from the cold. Her legs donned men's loose jeans. Her hand, only slightly plump but pale, played with her belt. John, embarrassed, turned back to his roommate at the keg. He wondered if the dyke actually thought he was a girl. *Of course not, always thinking the worst, the eternal social pessimist. Are some dykes heterosexual? I could go for her, she is attractive if...* He felt a warmth next to him. Turning, he came face to face the girl. She breathed out softly, and the air brushed his neck. Her lips were parted slightly, seeming to peel outward, while her tongue wagged slightly. "Hey," she said, her voice not high enough to be seductive. "Hey," he responded. His heart beating faster. She wasn't the most beautiful or attractive girl to John, but she was diffidently hitting on him, and he could feel his face flush. She looked down, and peered up at him and smiled, showing her teeth. Her hand pressed against his chest, sliding down his sweater into his jeans. Her cold hands touched his penis in its half erect state, grasping his testicles. His eyes widened. She leaned over and whispered to him, "I have to talk to you about something outside." She slid her hand out of his pants and grasped his wrist and pulled him across the room. Her hand was cushy, the skin soft as the skin on the underside of his forearm. Her breasts swayed as she walked, and John could see the sides of them through the armhole. The outside was cool, the crickets chirped until John was dragged to the unlit side of the house. She pushed him against the wall, and the bricks scratched his back. He put one hand around her waist, and the other on her butt and pulled her toward him. The softness of the contour of her body made his penis writhe against his jeans. He grinded his hips into hers. "STOP!" she gasped. Pushing away from him. "I didn't take you out here to make out with you," she cringed, turning away, "or have sex with you." What? John looked around in apprehension. His face flushed with embarrassment. He knew some frat boys would pop out and take a picture of the loser that tried to make out with the dyke. "Why the hell did you grab my penis then?" "It was the only way to get your attention," said, and turned away in embarrassment, "Look at me!" she commanded. John stared into her eyes. Her face contorted into a funny expression at an attempt to look more normal. "What do you see," she whispered. "A sexy girl?" "FUCK!" she shouted. "FUCK FUCK FUCK!" Surprised, John bumped his head into the bricks behind him. She crossed her arms across her chest, flattening her breasts with her hands. "You dumb, fuck head, it's me, Sean." "What?" John bumped his head against the brick again, "Holy shit, no fucking way. No fucking way, dude." She stepped back, with her hands on her hips. Her breasts jiggled. "What belt are you in Aikido?" Her voice was downtrodden, in despair, "None. The campus doesn't use belts, but when we took Karate back home I was brown." She looked toward the dirt, and then glanced at John's disbelieving eyes, and added, "Stupid fucks and their black belt club, tried to make me a black belt two years before I earned it... and it wasn't really karate, it was Tae Kwon Do" "Is it real?" John questioned. "Yes," she whimpered. "How did this happen so quickly?" his voice turned into a whisper, "was it the candle?" "No." She to heave her breathes, and sniffed her stuffy nose. "It was Krissy." She began to cry. "She's back." John almost bumped his head into the wall again. "How? Why?" "What am I going to do John? This is so horrible. Just like before, everyone is accepting this like it was normal," she took a deep breath, "What am I going to do? I can't do anything that I used to! I can't go to Kendo like this! She pulled back her sleeve and clenched her fist as if to be flexing her arm. I'm so weak and soft. I can hardly jump. Kicking is a joke, and everything jiggles." Tears streamed down her face, "It's so embarrassing. Every knows and they just make fun of me, I can't take it anymore." She leapt into John's chest and embraced him. She nuzzled her face into his shoulder, and dug her fingers in his back, sobbing. Her words became too muffled to understand. John felt the delicate body against him, her breasts smashed into his chest. He hugged her back, patting it comfortingly. She looked up, her face red with tears, "I think she's coming for you too. Do you remember what it was like when it happened to him?" Part I: A Bad Bet A few years earlier "Three," Chris said. He pulled three cards from his hand and put them on the table, stretching out his thin arms. "As usual, Chris with no luck," John chuckled. He sipped his Sprite, laced with stolen vodka from his mom. They sat at his parents' wooden breakfast table. His parents had been gone on a vacation for this week, visiting the Bahamas on a 'business' trip. His mom was just tagging along. They figured that he could handle himself his junior year of high school. "Hey, you keep on saying that," Chris replied. His eyes widened as he saw his new cards. "As usual, Chris the bluffer." John retorted. Chris was a bit smaller than the other guys in the group. So, he ended up always being slightly picked on. No mistake, the four were all good friends, best friends for years. Just whenever there was a play-fight going on, he was always beaten. Whenever they played video games, the three others would tend to team up on him. It was all very subtle, but it led Chris to over emasculate himself. He bluffed in poker. He would always challenge one of them, or make challenging statements, and was usually beaten. It wasn't that he wasn't apt at the things he challenged the others to, it was that he challenged others when he was not confident in winning, so he ended up losing. Which ended up in him over emasculating himself again in a vicious cycle. Or at least, that's what John thought. John would always analyze the social cycles with Sean. They could always analyze people they knew, but never themselves. It just couldn't be done. "I fold," Graham called out. "You fucking idiot," Sean said, "He's bluffing." "I'm not," Graham returned. "High card seven" "How is that even possible?" John called. Chris started counting his fingers. He paused a moment. "That's the worst possible hand a person can get in poker." He laughed. "I'll raise you two cashews and a snicker's bar." John called. "Bah, you got me, I fold," Chris called. "Ha ha! Read 'em and weep," he threw his cards on the table." High card, king." "Crap!" Chris yelped. "I had a pair of jacks." "Double bluff backfire," John said, humming a tune. "What the fuck is the backfire for?" Sean mumbled. "Wouldn't it be a backfire if Chris beat you." "Shut up," John replied, laughing. Though they were all good friends, John tended to hang out more with Sean, and Graham with Chris. Mostly because Sean lived next door to John, but Graham and Chris lived about 15 minutes away. Chris started dealing again. "How about raising the stakes," John grinned like a Cheshire cat. He slammed a book on the table. "Oh no, not this again," Sean mumbled. "Person with the worst hand has to let the winner cast a spell on him," John challenged. Graham smiled and Chris's eyes widened in surprise. "It's that stupid fucking spell book again," Sean turned to the other Chris and Graham. "John picked it up at a flea market today when we were looking for samurai swords. He tried to cast something on me-" John jabbed Sean and whispered, "Wait till we see the look on Chris's face when we cast the spell on him." Sean masked a chuckle. "It will be fun," John continued. "All right, I'm in," Graham said. The other three nodded. --- "Fuck!" Chris called. He snickered nervously. "Cast away, magic boy," he said, addressing John. "We have to have the atmosphere, otherwise it's not going to work," John grinned and chuckled. --- They circled a candle in the upstairs, John's bedroom. "Guys, this is bull crap." Chris murmured. "Your fate has been sealed, oh unlucky one," Graham chanted. John was scanning the book with a flashlight. "Come on, you have to give a pubic hair to us." "This is crap." He reached under his left armpit through his sleeve. "You scared that you'll lose wazoo, Chris-ee?" Sean gloated. "This is just bullshit," he handed the hair to John, who stuck it into the candle. "I'd rather be playing N64. This is the most hair-brained shit I've ever seen." John laughed. "So now the candle is going to melt your masculinity away. Whatever that means." "Lets just play some Nintendo..." Chris whined. "When we light the candle," John said. Sean pulled out a pack of matches, and everyone became quiet. Sean leaned over to John and whispered, "Are you sure about this?" "Dude, it's magic. When's the last time you saw a man's masculinity burn away?" he whispered back. Sean lit the match and reached over drudgingly toward the candle. The fire touched the candle. Chris bit his lip. There was a nervous silence. The candle caught fire, and everyone sighed with relaxation of tension. No magic sparks or colored flames spewed from the candle. Graham started chuckling, followed by the rest of the group. A pause, and everyone looked toward Chris. He was rubbing his hands over his shirt. Sean dropped the burnt match, and John's eyes squinted. "I think..." Chris's voice started rising in pitch, "something's happening!!!" "Holy shit," John mumbled. "I think my penis... my penis... it turned into a..." he reached into his jeans. Sean's jaw dropped. "A BANNANA!" and Chris flipped a slightly brown banana from out of his pants. Sean jumped out of the way, as it fell in the corner. Chris grasped his stomach and started cackling, roaring with laughter, and the other boys followed. John fell over backwards and rubbed his hands through his hair, chuckling. "Is that my banana?" "You want it? You want to eat my penis?" Chris said between giggles. The nervous tensions subsided. Chris licked his finger, and reached over to snuff out the candle. "Wait," John said. Chris stopped mid movement. "No harm in letting it finish, eh?" John murmured. "Let's set up the Nintendo 64 in the huge TV in the living room. I hate getting the bottom corner of that Phillips shit you have in your room" --- "I was SOOO close!" John shouted, he put his thumb and forefinger a centimeter apart. "SOOO CLOSE." "How did you guys both end up getting twice Chris and my kills?" Graham muttered. "It's not happening next time." "I think I'm going to skip this one, guys." Chris said, getting up. "Aww, don't be a pussy," Graham taunted. "It's getting too much for me," Chris returned. "What the fuck does that mean?" Graham said. "Alright, how about license to kill, facility, pistols?" John asked. "What the fuck?" Chris's voice cracked and he coughed. John tuned to see Chris halfway to the cough, turning and looking at his shoes that were where he was sitting. "I've," Chris cleared his throat. John turned back to Sean who was squinting. He stumbled over to the light switch and hit it. "I never noticed your freckles before..." Graham said. Chris stood in the center of the room staring at his shoes. His khakis seemed to be riding up higher on him. His skin was paler than normal, and freckles could be seen lit Tearing his face and down his neck, and further to his arms that were exposed through the rolled up collared-shirt sleeves. "Oh my God," John swore. "The candle!" Sean stood up. His leg twitched a moment, and his jaw dropped. He glanced toward John's room, and ran. John turned to see Graham run too. Slowly, John's head turned to see Chris again. His hands where under his shirt, rubbing his stomach. He was shocked, beyond horror, beyond reason. "My stomach," Chris looked up. "Is so soft now..." "Chris... I'm so sorry," John whispered. "I didn't think it would actually-" Chris's khaki pants fell to the floor. He stepped out of them. His legs looked more like a boys. His face did too. "Owww! FUCK!" echoed from the other room. John looked up to Chris's eyes, and saw the rest of his face change around them, subtlety. His forehead seemed to sink in, giving the impression of him having bigger eyes. Chris wasn't just losing his manhood... John heard his tenth grade biology teachers voice in his head again, as if he had just heard it. "There are more differences to men and women than just hormones and sex organs. For example, men's foreheads are more pronounced, so the eyes sink in more. This was a combat evolution. If a stick or a sword were to strike in the face, the eyes would only be cut slightly on a man, whereas, women would be blinded. Though testosterone can cause aggressive feelings, much of men's aggression and mental abilities come from his involvement in the hunt, and the resulting evolution from it. Men have better three-dimensional understanding. They are stronger, their bones and skin are tougher, and they are built to take a beating. Whereas a man's survival depended on his strength, the continuation of the genes of a woman, who did not leave the home or tribe, would seem inevitable. However that was not the case. Women evolved for sexual selection. In order to be successful, they had to appear as different from men as possible. These differences quickly become exaggerated. We see this in cardinals and long tailed birds. The males develop these exaggerated traits in order to be selected by mates. However, these traits make them less adaptive to their surroundings. They are caught and killed by predators far more quickly than the females. Being a vastly more intelligent race, and therefore our superiority and the safety that it provides allows for a much more exaggerated sexual traits to become evident. In fact, every difference between a man and a woman is clear evidence of this truth. John looked towards Chris's calves. The muscle mass was dwindling. Fat began to amass around the tops of the calves, then a whole new layer of fat seemed to make the leg grow again. The calf was much larger than before, but John realized Chris wasn't gaining weight, his legs were extremely skinny... on a girl. The difference in composition was amazing. Leg hair started becoming scarce. "Though the extra layer of fat that women had warmed them slightly, body hair was much better suited for the task. Since 'cavewomen' brought back furs, their requirements for warmth were lessened, therefore they were able to differentiate themselves from cavemen more, and therefore become more sexually attractive. Another interesting note, how many people in here feel more active when it is cold out? Who gets more tired and sleeps best when it is cold? See, men's metabolism speeds up in order to be able to fix the 'cold' problem through activity, where women are being told by their bodies to wait and conserve energy. The fat on Chris's legs seemed to slide to the side and back of them, and they became more rounded. Though covered by his boxers, his thighs seemed to flatten out clearing a path to his genitals. His butt had gotten much smaller, but now it was expanding slightly in a round shape. It jiggled through his plaid boxers. "Women's legs are clearly not meant for any physical activity. Any woman will have to work more than twice as hard in order to come close to the same ability that a male has. In fact, the female pelvis has not only widened to accommodate child birth, it has widened farther in order for a 'feminine gait' to become apparent. The gait is actually extremely counterproductive to locomotion, and the 'active' woman has to unconsciously, constantly combat her pelvis. This way of walking accentuates the genitals, and therefore, incites males to have sex with her, raising the probability of her genes being spread to the next generation. His shirt no longer caught his stomach as it danced over his torso; it rested on his widened hips, as his waist tightened and rose. "Women also counter-evolved men's strong stomachs. Their waists slimmed down so much to accentuate their contours that they lost most of their stomach strength. Chris's now dark nipples could be seen poking through the white, long-sleeved, sheer shirt. He stared at them and his mouth moved, but no words came out. The nipples enlarged slightly, and began to push against the fabric. His breasts began to push the shirt farther and farther out. The buttons played tug-of-war with each other to hold them in. The bottom of his shirt hung slightly farther out and no longer actually touched his waist. "The creation of an entirely new organ for sexual selection is a uniquely human phenomena. All mammals are capable of giving their offspring milk, however milk glands are not large, and can fit inside the body cavities of every other mammal but the human. The human breast is almost entirely fatty tissue, and exaggeration purely for sexual selection. The human breast is entirely encumbered to all activity. Only with modern technology have women been able to participate in physical activity without extreme discomfort. The bra was created in the Victorian era, not to liberate women from the trap of their own bodies, but to suppress all sexuality, as was the norm of Victorian times. Only in the past few decade have bras been produced that allow women to run with relative comfort, however they aren't perfect. This can be seen in the drop in attendance in girls' sports during puberty. The awkward type of run that many women have is a result of breast/buttocks balance issues. Chris's skin started to become shiny, almost translucent in many places. His freckles began to show on his legs. They weren't extremely noticeable, but appeared to be more of a flush than freckles. "The change in women's skin is also counter-productive to wilderness survival. It is more prone to cutting and damage, however it is more tactile to be fit for dexterous activities instead of physical ones. Another interesting fact is voices. The thickness of the vocal cords is directly dependant on size and sex of the person. The people that are less suitable for primitive life activities tended to have higher pitched voices, while those that are stronger have deeper ones. It is clear among different males, but it is blatantly obvious when compared to women. High voices have been proven to incite protective instincts in men, even voices from higher pitched men. This can be seen throughout the animal kingdom. It is part of the language we unconsciously tell others whenever we open our mouths. "I...," Chris held her breasts. "I'm so sorry," John repeated. She was defiantly a woman now. Her silhouette shouted it out well before her pronounced nipples and jiggling breasts did. She was a slim girl, but had the exaggerated breasts that many slim women show off. They were not really too large, but on her slim body, they must have been a tenth of her body weight. John realized that the only other word that aptly described how she looked at the moment other than sexy, was silly. Her brown hair was a mess on her head, still in a boy's cut. The disheveled look was acceptable on a guy, but on a woman it was a serious faux pas, and funny looking. Her pants rode on her new, high waist. Being a straight cut, the pants seemed to accentuate her widened hips. "I don't know what to say," Chris said, stepping back. Her face was cute and pert, but not beautiful. John thought, "A man spends his entire life trying to be manly. To have one's entire life's goals completely ruined, would be devastating." Chris reached down and pulled her pants up, well above her waist, and pulled the belt a few notches tighter. She crossed her arms across her stomach and cupped her breasts in her hands. John could see the flesh pushing through her fingers. Tears began to roll down her face onto her shirt. Sean and Graham trotted back into the room, their eyes wide with an expected surprise. "We..." Sean stopped mid-sentence. "It was burning like a Roman Candle, we couldn't put it out even with a blanket or water. Sean..." Graham reported, as Sean lifted his hands to expose the burns along his palm. "He tried to put it out himself but..." John realized what they were doing, moving the blame to him. "No one will know it's me. I don't have a social security number... I don't have an education..." John mumbled. "We'll find a way to change you back," John stated. But no one's expressions changed. "I'm sure your parents would recognize you, maybe you could convince the government you were on hormones or something," Sean said. --- "Hey mom, it's me," Chris said into the phone. "No," a pause, "No," another pause. She glanced at the guys, embarrassed, and turned her body toward the wall. "Something horrible happened. No, I'm fine, I'm not hurt..." She turned again to glance at John. "You are going to find this hard to believe... but I'm a...girl... now..." She stared at her toes, wiggling them. "What?" her expression changed, she stopped biting her lip. "Um... Krissy I guess. Yes. Yes, of course," she glanced around again. "Don't you want proof? Don't you at least need to see me to believe me? No, no of course I trust you. I guess it would be kind of... strange... to stay the night in this state. No, I'm sure the Hutchins wouldn't mind a girl staying when she used to be a boy!!! No, of course he doesn't think I'm a hussy. No! Pick me up tomorrow! We might be able to figure this out tonight! No!" Chris threw the phone on the receiver like a hammer. "What the hell just happened?" Sean asked. "The worst thing that could have happened," Chris mumbled. "She believed me. She's picking me up in ten minutes." "That's bullcrap," Graham retorted. "I'm sure she is being sarcastic. If she really wanted you home and wasn't mad at you for lying to you, she would have just said ." "My dad is sarcastic, my mom is serious," Chris stuttered. A silence rose like the tide. Graham looked at Chris, then his eyes fell to her breasts, stretching to get out of the shirt. She covered them with her hands again. "Maybe..." Sean mumbled. Everyone turned to him. "Maybe magic is naturally norm seeking." "What?" Graham questioned. "Bear with me for a minute," Sean state, he shook his arms in front of him with his palms out as if he had a revelation. "Okay, so obviously magic exists, but no one believes in it. What would be the only way it could stay a secret for so long?" he paused a moment, glancing at the eyes of the others. "It's if every person presented with any evidence of real magic doesn't find it unusual. Therefore it isn't publicized, rumors aren't spread." "Or maybe," Graham interrupted, "it's like a computer AI in a video game. If you hack the game, it's not possible for them to understand what happened, however they might change their behavior if it is a good AI." "Only one way to find out," John said, "Call your girlfriend. He scolded himself for sounding too commanding. "It's... too late," She stuttered. "You know she's up, and she has a cell phone," Graham said. "I can't!" Chris squealed. "It's too embarrassing." Sean squirmed. "We'll tell her it was a joke tomorrow. We'll get this fixed tonight." Chris caught Sean's glance at her breasts. They could be seen in the space between the buttons of her shirt. Her nipples swiftly expanded. Sean turned away, and Chris covered her breasts with her slim fingers again. Her face glowed red. She looked intimidated. "Okay, I'll call." She reached her left arm and rested it on her right shoulder, to shield both breasts. As a nervous habit she bounced her arm against her breasts, causing them to shake. She dialed. "Hey," she said into the phone. "It's Chris...No, I'm not sick. I got transformed into a girl." "What?" Jill yelped through the phone. Nothing for a moment. "No, no, no, I'll be back to myself in no time. No, that's not why it happened. John's a nice guy he wouldn't do that. Okay. Tomorrow then." She was rotating her arm against her chest, rubbing her nipples unconsciously. She smiled. "Okay then. Bye." She hung up. "Okay, we've got good news, bad news, and better news." She addressed them. "The good news is, that she immediately believed it was me, and she took it well. The bad news, is that she wants to do my nails." She glanced at her hand. "But the better news is that she wants to experiment." She giggled and jumped up and down, her butt and breasts following a bit behind. The three guys smiled as the tension fell. John leaned over to Sean and whispered, "Maybe then is a better time to tell her that we can't change her back." "What?" Sean returned. "We burned her masculinity, we didn't drive it from her, or keep it in a bottle." "She'll be pissed." "Who knows, she might like it." "No, she'll be really, really pissed." Two days later John was skimming the book again, for the fifth time. It was strange the way it described the male spirit. It seemed as if masculinity was an 'addition' to the soul. It coincided with what John knew of biology, that life began with a female shape in the womb, and changed from there. There was no way in hell that John would be able to change her back, even if all of the rest of the spells in the book worked. Every other one he tried failed. The phone rang. "Hello," John stated. "I just had the weirdest two days that I've ever had in my entire life," Chris said. John laughed. Chris sounded chipper and excited, like talking to a cheerleader-girlfriend. "So that's why you hadn't called me," John said, purposely trying to put a smile in his voice. "Good or bad?" "Both. It's been just strange. We've got to talk about stuff. I need a little bit of sanity in my life," she laughed. John was typically the least erratic of the four. "The new Russell Crowe flick looks good, and I'm kind of hungry." "Alright, I'll pick you up." "Thanks" He hung up the phone slowly. It felt way too much like he just asked a girl out on a date. He had to keep telling himself it was the same Chris he always went to the movies with. --- John spent the car ride analyzing his situation. He would have to tell her tonight. The shit would hit the fan tonight, and salvaging a friendship was the top priority. He pulled up to the driveway; she was already out the door. One glance at her, and he knew that the shit already hit the fan. A white and blue bandanna was pulled across her head. She donned a simple white tank top, tight across her chest and exposing cleavage. A long earthy floral skirt swayed around her legs. She wore brown sandals with white straps. In between steps, John noticed her legs and armpits were shaved. She stepped in the car. "Hi," she said. "Hi." "Enjoying yourself?" John said. He glanced at her again Her nails were polished. She turned to him, flustered. "Oh no, no, no. It's not like that at all!" "I'm just glad this is working out for you, you know, no one would think badly about you if you didn't change back." "You've got the wrong idea," she waved her hands, palms out, to him. "I had to get something that fit. I was falling out of all my pants and shoes, and it looked silly on me." "Why didn't you get pants then?" "Oh, you know my parents..." she said, blushing. "They were never all about the women's lib stuff" "You mean... they are making you wear dresses?" "Pretty much," with Chris 'pretty much' was 'very much'. "My mom thought that since my hair is really short and that I refuse to wear a bra, that I could go for a pseudo- hippie look, until I get used to it. So that I don't," she put her fingers up in quotation marks, "embarrass the family." "The lip-stick?" "My mom was bugging me to put it on." She laughed. "She thinks we are dating now. She thinks that a boyfriend will straighten me out," she said, as she shook her head. A silence shrouded the car. John thought, "This is way more awkward than I could possibly imagine," and said, "What do you think?" "You're, thinking that I," she smiled. "I don't think sexual orientation has any thing to do with the physical sex. My psychology teacher told me that, and I believe him. I'm still into girls." Another awkward silence emerged. John thought that she sounded excited to talk to him earlier. She began to trace her right nipple with the tip of her index finger. "What's it like?" he asked. "Physically." She paused a moment. "It's unlike anything you could imagine. You know the softness you feel when you touch a woman's skin? Imagine being the softness, feeling the softness in everything. But, it's not just about the sensation, it's like everything inside me is made out of that softness. Everything just feels different when I touch it." She rubbed the gray fuzzy interior of John's car. "Especially me." She traced her arm with her finger, and started touching her palm. "I'm having trouble doing things that I've taken for granted. I can't open any jars anymore. I can hardly lift anything; and a lot of doors are really hard to open. I have a hard time walking with my boobs messing up my balance, and my hips being insanely wide; not to mention women's clothes getting in the way. I tried to run yesterday, I had to hold my boobs with my hands. Everything jiggled so much and I ended up falling over after a few steps every time. It's strange; I'm pretty skinny for a girl but sometimes I feel so fat with the way everything shakes. My boobs aren't that big for a girl but they get in the way all the time. I can't even imagine what it would be like going back to Tae Kwon Do with you guys like this. It's seems like my breasts are the center of my life now. I can't not think about them even if I try. They move all over the place even when they are bound up. They bump into things. When I sit down at my desk and lean over, my boobs touch the tabletop. Most of the contact feels nice, but sometimes they are sore. It's so strange having them, so much feeling comes from them, it's like having genitals on my chest that shout, 'hey, look at me.'" She wrapped her hand around her left breast and squeezed. Her nipple and most of the fat around it pushed out from between her thumb and index finger. "The nipples are the worst. Anytime they touch something or anytime it gets cool they stick out. They are really..." she stretched her shirt across her chest and pulled her shirt back and forth, trying to incite her nipples, "noticeable." John glanced over, and was extraordinarily surprised. Her engorged nipples were so prominent and proud that they would be seen in her silhouette. "It's really embarrassing and... Arousing." She giggled, exposing her teeth. She held her breasts in her hands and started playing with her nipples with her stray fingers. It's kind of fun." She smiled and glanced over at John's crotch. "You think so too I see." A week ago if John couldn't even imagine such an arousing sight. Now one of his best friends, turned into a girl, for the most part, was masturbating in his car nonchalantly. It was the most strange and arousing thing he could possibly imagine. He wanted to bring up something different now. This was too much. He couldn't get anything but fucking the brains out of his best friend out of his head. "I think it's kind of unfair that anyone can tell when a guy is aroused, but never when a girl is," he said. "It's a lot easier than you think," she said. "Especially when they aren't wearing underwear," she laughed. "God my own laugh is turning my on." She pulled her floral skirt across her crotch and it darkened from being wet. "Holy shit, Chris, you are snail trailing?!?" John exclaimed. "So? You sometimes free ball," she returned. "It's completely different. Lazy guys free ball because they can't find their underwear. Girls do it when they want to be a slut" "Well maybe so, but this is my last night as a girl, so at let me at least let me try to appreciate it" John was about to say something, but held his tongue. "You are right about it being really different though. It's like being naked. When the open air runs up my legs and caresses my vagina in public it makes me feel so sexy; like I'm hiding my nakedness. And, I don't know if you know this, but when a girl is wearing a skirt and no underwear she can masturbate just by crossing her legs and bouncing her leg a bit." She crossed her legs. "I just think that it's so cool that I can masturbate in public. I mean, I doubt I could orgasm but..." She was bouncing her right leg. "Mmmmm," she closed her eyes and bit her lower lip. She opened them again, and glanced at John. She uncrossed her legs, and put them as far apart as possible, then rested her hands on the armrest, and took a deep breath. There was another pause. "I'd have to say, the best and worst thing about being a girl is sexual arousal. At least, so far, I mean, when I touch myself it feels a lot better, but that's not all. I guess it's because I spent my whole life fantasizing about women, but everything I do turns me on. Whenever I can't lift something, I find it arousing. Whenever my breasts get in the way, I get aroused. I can't help but get horny whenever my mom treats me like a little girl. Can you believe it? I get my curfew set earlier, and I get wet. "Whenever I see myself in the mirror, all I can think is, 'she's hot, and she's all mine. She can't say no, and does whatever I want', like a love slave. I just touch my own breasts, feel the soft flesh in my hands, then feel my own delicate fingers through my breasts, and I cream myself. Probably sounds like the greatest thing ever, but it really isn't. When I'm trying to get something done, I have to be careful where I put my hands, what I lean on, and where I look. I was trying to watch Voyager yesterday and I caught a glimpse of my cleavage, and it was all over. And it is not like girls can jack off and it's all over. It keeps going and going and going, and it gets so messy. "So that's what you've been doing for the last two days?" John said. "Sounds like fun." "No," she smiled. She adjusted her bandana, and started playing with her sandal, putting her foot in and out of it. "There was so much other stuff. I'll tell you when we get to the restaurant." "Maybe," John thought, "if her only problem is masturbating too much, she'll take the news well" "I am just so glad that we can get this over with tomorrow. Enough is enough, you know?" she said. John almost choked on his tongue. "I thought you liked it?" "Are you serious?" she said. "I mean it's a really fun feeling being in here, but no way do I want to spend another day like this. Haven't you been listening to me? Being weak and incapable really turns me on but it is so frustrating it's unbelievable. My parents treat me like I can't make my own decisions now. I'm over-emotional. I can't stand the looks guys give me, and I'm constantly humiliated just looking like this. Going to school on Monday would be hell. Everyone would make fun of me, the bullies would eat me for breakfast. I'd probably even be raped; I would die from the humiliation." She paused a moment looking down thoughtfully. "Not that I'm not enjoying this now. I might even enjoy this again over the winter or during spring break or something. "What if it was permanent?" John mumbled. "God, I would cry forever. The only reason I enjoy myself is because it doesn't feel like me. It's like having a girlfriend with none of the bitching. I look in the mirror and I see someone else; if I knew that was going to be me forever, that my heart, soul, and mind were female, I would feel horrible. Everything I ever did would be for not. Glass ceilings, husbands, being a second-class citizen, and being a prize. No way." She looked down a moment. "By the way, I think you should call me Krissy, at least while we are in public, but it's probably best that you get used to it now." "Why do you care if I call you Krissy? No one will recognize you, and I'm sure Chris is short for a lot of feminine names." "It turns me on." John laughed. "What the fuck?" "It's the stamp of sexism." They pulled into the parking lot of Chili's. "I've got to hear this," John said "Okay, well think of a guy's name. It's typically short and to the point. It does what it's designed to do, identify an individual. But feminine versions of the same name are typically longer and flowery. Chris-Krissy, Jack-Jaceline, and so forth. Guys' names have no special property that makes them sound masculine, but girls names have to sound cute and pretty. It tells girls that they are second-class citizens from the beginning. Since their names serve two purposes, it says that functionality is therefore less important, setting a dependency on men. "I don't see it," John said as they stepped out of the car. "Sounds like feminist garbage." "Well think of it this way. Pets and babies are far weaker and dependent creatures, but they are given feminine names in reference to them. It's all in the structure of our language. For example, the 'e' sound is used to feminine names like 'Krissy', 'Cary', 'Eve', but rarely in men's names. But listen to all the names we give things that are dependant on us 'kitty', 'baby', etc" "What about 'Henry'," John said, as they walked into the restaurant. "But don't they call Henrys, George as a nickname?" she replied. John shrugged. "But feminine versions of guy's names never take away the 'e', look at Hariette" They sat down at the table. Krissy put her back to the side of the seat, resting her legs on the cushion. She was so beautiful, just sitting there. Her legs were pale and impossibly long, reaching up to her wasp-ish waist. John always liked skinny girls even if they were waifs. But Krissy had everything John wanted in a girl. She looked so innocent, with her wide-set eyes and cute pouty lips. He fantasized about sticking his penis in her mouth, with those slim soft fingers moving up and down his shaft. He stared at her breasts. They were perfectly shaped, like the girl who's red bathing suit popped open in "Fast Times at Ridgemont High," just a lot bigger. He wondered what his penis would feel like as he squeezed her breasts around it and moved it back and forth. "So sexism is turning you on," John said. "Right now it is," she returned. "I've got some sexist jokes." He knew that he shouldn't, but he was really getting aroused by the state of Krissy. "Shoot" "Why do women have smaller feet?" he paused, "So they stand closer the kitchen counter." She laughed and stared at her feet. "Why do women really have smaller feet. It can't help my balance, you would think we would have bigger feet." "To differentiate themselves from men." "I guess," she said. She lifted her left foot above table. It was soft, hairless, slim, and short enough to almost not look normal. "Do you think my feet are sexy?" "I guess," he returned. "I mean they are really small, and really, really soft," she started massaging the tops with her fingers. "Maybe you should put your shoes back on, they might get pissed at us" John said. "I want to hear another one," she said, putting her feet on the ground. "Why do women have breasts?" he said. "So men will have something to look at while they aren't listening to women." She chuckled; she reached across her chest to scratch her shoulder, but secretly rubbed her breasts with her arm in the same action. The action was so vigorous that John guessed the nipples moved a journey of four inches at least back and forth in the 'scratching'. "I'm out of them" John called. They ordered their drinks. "Tell me what happened after you went home," John said. "God," she said and rolled her eyes. "The hell began when I got in the car. The first thing she says to me is that it looked like I just had sex, and said I looked like a slut. I told her how it happened and that it was temporary. She was relieved, and then started making ground rules while I was in this body." "Like what?" John asked. "Well the women's clothes only rule and no more staying the night at your house. She tried to tell me I couldn't be at your house if your parents weren't home, but I argued my way out of that one. There were a couple of strange ones, like no sex and no alcohol, which I assumed were already rules. "What did your dad say?" "Well when I got home, she presented me to my dad. The first thing he said was, 'I can't believe a daughter of mine would have such a vulgar shape'. I started crying. 'My son is a faerie', he said. My mom then rushed in and took me back to her room. "She told me that dad was just really frustrated and disappointed, but that he still loved me. I believed her, because my dad had always been very supportive of me. She said that my dad still lived in a time where birthing a daughter meant for the couple to try again. It was just frustrating for him, because if this was permanent, he would have to have another boy to inherit the business. "'I won't have my daughter cross dressing another minute', she said to me. I told her that I was going to go to bed soon, but she didn't care. She just started pulling off my clothes, muttering something about being both girls here. She started rummaging through her underwear and told me that I would just have to go without until I got some tomorrow, and threw me some of her pajamas. She told me that she and my dad still loved me, even though they were disappointed and I went to bed." "The next day I woke up to my mom scolding me for not having my room clean. It was never a problem before. She then dropped a blouse and a skirt on the bed and said that none of my clothes would fit me looking like I do. I told her that I wanted to wear some jeans and a t-shirt, but she replied with, 'You don't want to look like a boy do you?' She didn't give me a chance to answer and said, 'We need to get you some fitting clothes at the mall, I'm ready whenever you are', and she told me to shave my 'pits and legs, then left my room. "On the way to the mall, she kept yammering on about how to be a girl. She told me that boys won't really be my friends anymore because they will talk to me for my body, not my mind; and that I should get used to having girl friends because they were the only ones that would treat me like a person from now on. She asked if 'you and that Jill girl you were dating'," Krissy put up her fingers in the quotes position. "' I bet you two could be really good friends' she said. So I asked her if I could stay the night over there and she said 'okay'!" "Did you?" John said, flabbergasted. "Yes," she said. "Hey, I have to go in chronological order here. This is crazy stuff." She continued, "So we spend like four hours at the mall. I kept looking down on all the outfits I was wearing and my face would flush and my nipples would stick out. It was soooo strange, but everyone who was walking in my direction glanced at my nipples at least once. Kids, women, it didn't make any difference. It was strange being checked out all the time. It made me uncomfortable. So my mom tells me, 'I'm almost glad this happened, this is a lot of fun', and starts commenting on all the boys we see. She even incited me to talk to a few. She ended up buying so many clothes for me it was insane, even though I kept telling her it was only temporary. I felt so shamed. "So we finally go home. I was so glad that she spoiled me with clothes. Everything was so sexy and tight. I just posed in my mirror, switching through my new outfits, and played with myself for hours. It was so great. "I finally end up going over to Jill's house. My mom drove me. I picked this really elastic yellow tennis dress that stuck to me. It hugged me so much, that the mole on my hip could be seen as a bump in the dress. "So the first thing Jill says to me is, 'You whore, I don't see how our parents are letting you stay over'. She was joking of course. Jill then starts fawning over how good I looked." Krissy started imitating her. "'Oh your hips are so gorgeous'," she flicked her wrist. "'You are just sooooo cute'," Krissy stopped the act. "Then she tells me that if she looked like me she would have every boy in school. Of course, I was pissed. She didn't seem to understand why, and I told her I still wanted her as a girlfriend. She didn't seem to think I was going to turn back. She said she obviously couldn't have a boyfriend with bigger boobs than hers. I asked her about us experimenting, and she said that experimenting doesn't mean we are still exclusive. I almost started crying again, but I realized it has to be something about accepting magic, like what we were talking about earlier, so I let it go. We went to her room, and I leaned over to kiss her, and she turned her head so I kissed her on the cheek. She said that it didn't feel right, right then, so she held my wrist and dragged me over to her closet. She pulled out her nail polish, and started chatting about inane things. She even asked me 'what kind of boys do I like now?'" Krissy shook her head. "Everyone is acting like this is some sort of permanent curse," she bit her lip at the thought. "So she ends up putting shiny stuff on my nails. The smell of nail polish was so horrible. But when we were done, I started to kiss her. It's wild, I tell you, John. Kissing a girl while being a girl is the strangest experience ever. The soft flesh against the soft flesh felt so good and right. There is nothing, and I mean nothing, like feeling your breasts touching another woman's." John's penis was hard as a rock. "You should so do the candle thing with me when I do it again over one of our next school breaks. It would be really fun." John squirmed in his seat. "I don't know..." was all he could say. "Well the rest of the time was pretty uneventful. Jill said our relations were 'uncomfortable' and 'wrong', and that she wasn't a lesbian. But she did say she enjoyed our time anyway. Oh yah, and my parents practically made me go with you to dinner. They said I needed practice man hunting before they paid for me to do it in college. My dad was being a real dick to me. I asked why, and he kept quoting the bible. 'The birth of a daughter is a loss' was the first thing he said. I started yelling at him about how being a girl wasn't so bad. He kept talking about how I was shaming the family, and quoting the bible as evidence. 'Let a woman learn in silence with all submissiveness. I permit no woman to teach or have authority over men. She is to keep silent, for Adam was formed first then Eve, and Adam was not deceived but the woman was deceived and became a transgressor.' As you can see, it was pretty dramatic. The food arrived and they began eating. "Everything tastes a little bit different too. A little bit better, sometimes," she said. They finished the meal, bringing up memories that they had of fun times together. --- The movie had been good so far. John and Krissy had thrown popcorn at each other. There was no one else in the theatre so they enjoyed mocking the characters and making really loud comments to each other, just because it was faux pas at the movies. "Mmmm," Krissy mumbled next to John. She was rubbing her crotch through her skirt swiftly, the fabric made a swishing sound as she went back and forth. "I'm sorry," she said. "I looked down. Do you mind?" "I guess not," he replied. He shifted in his seat to hide his erection. Swish. Swish. Swish. "It makes everything you watch a lot better. Like pot," she said. The swishing became more intense. John tried to pay attention to the movie, but was failing. He was becoming uncomfortably aroused. "Could you help me?" she said weakly. John pretended not to hear her. He wanted to so bad, but he knew that he would be in deep shit later if he did. She started playing with her right nipple through the blouse. Her other hand went in her skirt under the elastic. "Please?" she moaned. She grabbed his hand and forced it on her breast. "Just rub a little bit here, it feels so good. Just pretend I'm just your girl on a date." It was so large, warm, and soft. Just like John imagined it would be. He jerked his hand away, and stood up. "Chris, Krissy, whatever your name is: If I do what your asking, no matter how much I want to, it's going to have repercussions when it is over. I can't deal with that and I don't think you can either." She stopped masturbating, and looked a bit hurt. "Well, it's getting a bit messy anyway. I guess I should go to the bathroom." She tried to stand up but lost her balance, toppling into John. He fell over backwards onto the seats with her on top of him. Being the back row, the armrests had been lifted previously. John opened his eyes to Krissy's face, only an inch from his own. Her breath was warm against his cheeks. Her pupils almost completely covered her dark brown irises. The gravity defying power of her breasts seemed to only be effective while she was upright; while her chest was about a 6 inches from her torso, her breasts pulled down to meet his chest. Her nipples stuck into his chest like fingers caressing him. John's hormones had taken over. Krissy reached her arms around his neck kissing and licking his face. Her torso thrust into him, her breasts pivoting into him. He reached around her back, and she was small enough that he wrapped his arms completely around her and until he could touch the sides of her breasts. He slid his hands down her back and squeezed her butt, feeling the soft flesh and skirt slide through his fingers. He gripped hard, and began forcing her hips to gyrate on his penis. His dick chaffed through the jeans he wore. After a few moments, she sat up, now humping him through her clothes by using her legs to propel her self back and forth. Her breasts swayed back and forth; she grasped them and started manipulating them through her tank top. She stared at the ceiling, closed her eyes, and moaned. Smiling, she turned to him, and whipped her whimsy top off and threw it to the floor. Her breasts were round and milky-pale. The only color in them came from her light freckles and bright red nipples. "Penetrate me," she moaned. "Just once before I go back" She pulled her skirt up, exposing her shaved vagina. She unbuttoned his pants. --- "About what happened" Krissy said after a long silence. "Pretend it was my cousin. When I turn back, everything will be the same. Just wait and see." There was an awkward pause. "Krissy," John said, his voice level and logical. "There is no changing back." "You're joking right." "No." "This isn't funny." "I'm sorry Chris, I really am. If there was anything I could do" "I'm sure you will find a way." A surreal moment passed. "I just wanted to let you know, I'm not really attracted to you. I'm not a faggot, I just wanted to see what it felt like before I changed back. You know, so I can please the ladies later." John didn't say anything. He felt sorry for his friend. Denial was best for him now, worse for him later. The day after next, Monday, on the way from the parking lot to high school "Thanks for giving me a ride, John," Krissy said. Her skin gleamed in the morning sun. "I don't know how I would have dealt with the bullies on the buss this way." She poked her breast, "Especially with these bouncing around." "It's the least I could do." John glanced at Krissy. She wore a tight green dress, it was ruffled in the chest area, making her breasts appear larger than they actually were, if that was possible. Half of her shiny thighs could be seen below the dress. She wore black elevated sandals and the same bandanna she wore during their 'date'. "You know," she said. "It's actually more comfortable sleeping in this body. The extra layer of fat and the soft skin makes everything feel so much more silky and comfortable. Even sitting down is better with my cushy butt." "I mean, it's not that bad being a girl in today's society right? I mean being weak isn't so bad," she said. "Being a girl wouldn't be so bad, right? I would just have to..." She began to sniffle. "You have to be strong," John said. "You can get by this." "It's going to be so embarrassing. They'll never let this go, even after I change back." "You'll be fine," John said. He tried to make it sound like he meant it. Her thighs and butt jiggled. Of course, her boobs were all over the place. But John had yet to see a time when Krissy's tits weren't moving, seemingly on their own volition. "Why don't you wear a bra?" John asked. "It doesn't feel right." "You're going to have to avoid thinking about sex or yourself today..." John commanded as Krissy entered the principal's office to change her records. "See you first period," she called back. For a moment, John thought she was talking about a different kind of period. --- John sat nervously in his desk. Pre-calculus was the farthest thing from his mind. Krissy stepped in and sat down at her normal desk. She crossed her legs. "Who's the new girl," John heard from behind him. "You won't believe me," another voice said. "It's Chris." "Chris Baker?" "Yah." "They say there was some kind of magic." "Scary." Class began somewhat normally. Krissy kept squirming in her seat. She had a habit of leaning over to write in her notebook from when she was a guy. Her boobs kept bumping the desk, and she kept having to sit back up again abruptly. "Is it cold in here, or is it just Chris?" someone said. A chorus of laughter erupted. John felt so sorry for her, there were no words to describe it. After school, at the flag pole, where John and Krissy planned to meet to walk to the car John sat on the two-foot tall brick wall that surrounded the garden that housed the flagpole. He hoped Krissy's day had gone well, not only as his friend, but after they had had sex the other day, he was beginning to be attracted to her, emotionally. It was a cruel conglomerate of feelings. "Hey," Krissy said next to him. John turned and locked eyes with Krissy. Her eyes drooped. Her face was downtrodden. "Hey," John returned "It was terrible," she cried. "All the boys did was leer at my breasts and say how much an improvement it was to me. The girls wouldn't accept me at all." The two started to walk to the car. "In gym they made me change in the bathroom and stay there. All I had was this tiny t-shirt and short shorts to change into and no sports bra. I tried to convince the girl's coach to let me sit out today but she wouldn't. I then noticed that all the girls in Phys. Ed. were all lithe and toned. Girls like me with my... attributes... just took other classes. So we start to play volleyball and I was so weak that I didn't even have the power to hit the ball over the net. Every time the ball hit me it hurt. I guess all we saw when we were both guys were girls that were toned to play sports. Girls like me just avoided all the physical activity and dressed up in hot clothes, because that's all they could do. So my breasts end up going in every other direction and my ineptitude started to really turn me on, so I was starting to get really noticeable. I end up knocking the ball under the bleachers and a girl on my team says, 'don't worry about the volleyball, we can use one of Krissy's.'" "They were just jealous, I'm sure," John said, sliding his feet on the ground. "They were finding a way to exclude me," she whined. "After that they started mocking me openly. They mimicked my walk, they joked openly about me, there was one girl... she was big and wide, she would push me and run into me. She was almost like a male bully. I had heard that females bully with snide remarks and subtle rejections, but if it got to this point, I'm not sure I can ever be accepted" John put his arm around her as she continued weeping, "People that I thought were my friends were cruel to me. I was called a faerie more than once. Most of the guys thought I was gay and I did this to myself to get more cock. They said I would never be a real girl no matter how much I tried. They would ask questions like, 'so does cock taste different as a woman?' and 'which is looser, your ass or your pussy'. I'd always be a boy in a girl's body. I tried to talk to the 'popular' girls, but they all acted like I was in some sort of disguise, and treated me like dirt. Even Jill..." Krissy wiped her eyes, red with tears. "After seeing the reaction to me, said she didn't want some faerie faggot as a girlfriend. I'll show them the faggot. I'll be the best girl ever. I'll be so feminine, I'll make the hot girls look like faggots." Krissy ducked under John's arms and grabbed him in a hug, pulling herself into him as much as she could. She was still crying, her quick breathes pushed her breasts into his chest. "You were the only one who was there for me. I never saw Sean or Graham all day. They didn't try to call me up or drive me to school or anything." "I think they are really scared they will share the attention," John guessed. Truth was, he was terrified he would too. They stood by John's car, Krissy trembling under his arms. She pulled back, and stared at John in the eyes. "I'm really scared someone's going to rape me, John. If you could try to protect me from their bodies, I would be... yours," she whispered. "Though I'm not interested in boys, still." She pulled closer to John to kiss him, but John jumped away as if his face touched a fire. He glanced around and saw more than a few eyes pretending not to watch them. "Get in the car," he commanded. "I'm sorry," she whimpered. "Just get in the car," he said louder. She scurried to the passenger side and leaped in. She apologized again, "You just really seemed to enjoy when you were with me before, I thought that maybe you would help me out, you know, say a few words that I'm not that bad, if I..." "Whored yourself to me?" "I have nothing left." "I don't know about Sean and Graham, but you still have me. I'm your friend. I'll watch your back. I'll help you out. I'm sure Sean and Graham are here with you too, they are just a little worried. Don't 'sell' yourself to anyone, not me, not Sean, and not Graham. You're beautiful and attractive, Krissy, people will want you as long as you don't let them have you. I'll help you, no problem, just as long as you don't ever tell anyone I had sex with you. She nodded. "I want to hang out with them today," Krissy yelped. "Okay, sounds good." "I don't want to look like this," she pointed toward her breasts. The seatbelt went diagonally until it hit her cleavage, went straight down, and cut across under her boobs. She looked really uncomfortable, but John really wanted to be the seatbelt. "Sure, we can stop by your house for a change of clothes and a bra." "No, I want to look like a boy" "Do you have a lot of tape?" At Krissy's house "Where did you say your mom hid your guy clothes?" John asked. "In the garage," Krissy said. "Don't worry, they won't be back for another two hours, and they won't miss some jeans and a t- shirt." She began smearing nail polish remover on her fingernails. Krissy still wore her green dress, but she sat with it pulled all the way up her thigh as she sat on the cold floor of her kitchen. John returned with an Abercrombie 'tool' t-shirt, loose jeans, and a belt, as Krissy finished removing the polish on her toenails. He tossed them to her. She grabbed the bottom of the dress, and in a flick of her arm, the dress was on the floor and she was naked in front of John. He averted his eyes a moment, and turned around to see Krissy's red genital hair being covered up by the jeans. She picked up the belt. "Scissors," she said. John handed opened a drawer and handed her a pair of steel, long scissors. She struggled to pierce a hole in the belt to make the belt small enough to fit her waist. "Let me help you," John said. Krissy looked up, frustrated, and handed the scissors to John. He stepped close enough for her nipples to rub against his shirt. He ripped a new hole in a solid, swift motion. "Thanks," she said, blushing slightly. She wrapped the belt around her waist and pulled it tight over her belly button. "Now for the fun part," John picked up a roll of duct tape. Krissy bit her lip, as John started to wrap the tape around her chest. "Not the nipples." "We have to do the nipples. It will look strange otherwise." "They are too sensitive, just go around them." Krissy's breasts were flattened by the tape. But not enough. John kept putting new layers of tape on her chest until the smell of tape-glue permeated the air. "Ouch," Krissy said. "This is really uncomfortable." "I can take off some layers." "No no." Krissy pulled on her black t-shirt. Her breasts were still noticeable, but they were shrunk greatly. Her nipples were still the same size as before though, looking strange on her almost flat chest. She stood up and spun around. Her breasts still shook, but only slightly. "Do I l