Young Justice: A Chivalrous Sprite free porn video

The following story contains characters owned by DC Comics, a division of AOL Time Warner. It is written solely as a fan fiction and the characters are used without their permission. It is not intended to alter the established continuity of any story line in any book published by DC Comics. The story that follows was written purely for fun, with no thought of profit to be made by the author. It is free to be archived on any site wishing to do so, provided that the author is given proper credit and they tell me where it's going to be posted. I hope that's enough. So anyway, on with story. Bill Young Justice: A Chivalrous Sprite By Bill Hart Timothy Drake groaned softly as he slowly undressed. Not only did he have aches and pains, but his aches and pains also seemed to have aches and pains of their own. He was more exhausted now than at any other time he could remember. He was glad Bruce had told him to crash here at Wayne Manor for the night. He was also glad that the Manor was so secure. He wouldn't have to worry about anyone finding his Robin costume that he'd tossed haphazardly into the chair sitting beside the bed. It had been one very long night. He was more battered and bruised than normal for a single night on patrol. But there was nothing about any encounter with the crafty Joker that could ever be considered remotely in the normal range. As a result of this latest encounter, Tim definitely thought he'd gained a rather ripe body aroma. He certainly didn't want to find out how bad others anyone else thought he smelled. As he had during their other encounters, Tim had wished that Joker could have been a little more common a criminal than he actually was. It was always difficult dealing with the insane. And it was always worse sealing with the criminal insane. On top of that, it always seemed worse dealing with the criminal Joker, who was very clearly insanity's favorite poster boy. Tim had already convinced himself he'd be hearing that crazed clown's cacophonous cackling in his head all night long. Tim had clearly needed a quick shower. His smell bothered him. Oddly, no shower he'd ever taken before had ever felt so perfectly wonderful. He'd felt tingly all over as the spray of water had rinsed the soap from his body. He'd even wondered how it would feel staying in the shower for the next several hours. And this wonderful shower had clearly seemed to help out a little. Tim no longer felt quite as achy as he had. All of his pains had diminished. He could even tolerate what little wisps remained of his peculiar former bodily aroma. Tim also hoped his shower had washed away whatever traces remained of that odd-colored fluid that mad rouge had splashed all over both Batman and him as he'd made his escape. As he pulled back the covers of the bed, Tim decided he could worry about all of these things later. Everything would be better and more easily dealt with once he'd had a night's sleep. He was also convinced that Batman would recapture the Joker before morning. After all, he might be able to deal with the Joker better alone. By the time Tim woke, the Clown Prince of Crime would likely be back in Arkham where he belonged. Sliding into the bed, Tim couldn't believe how good the softness of the sheet felt against his naked skin. He'd never noticed anything like that before in any bed in which he'd previously slept. As his exhaustion finally caught up with him, Tim yawned. His head hadn't even hit the pillow before Timothy Drake had fallen into a deep sound sleep. *** It was still dark outside when Tim woke. It was highly unusual for him to wake so early in the morning, especially after a long rough night such as he'd had. But even as he lay in the bed, he felt simply wonderful. And that miraculous feeling coursing through him was something totally unexpected. Tim's body no longer ached at all. But given more time to think everything through, Tim was even more surprised that he was fully awake. On top of everything else, he felt completely rested. In fact, Tim was feeling so energized that he was getting increasingly antsy about remaining in bed. But it was still early. If they heard him, which was very likely, Tim knew he was bound to hear something about wandering around the manor in the darkness from Bruce and Alfred later. But he just had to get up. He couldn't help really help it. Nature was calling him. And that call was becoming increasingly insistent. Although there wasn't anything specific he could put a finger on, Tim felt a little peculiar as he got out of bed. But he wasn't overly concerned about it. This was a little more realistic, even though he'd been expecting some aches and pains. Tim had no doubts that what he was currently feeling was nothing more than the aftereffects of their battle with Joker last night. After entering the adjoining bathroom, Tim absently set the toilet seat down before plopping, none to gently, down on it. His bowels swiftly emptied. Feeling greatly relieved, Tim sighed. He wondered if he might have somehow caught cold. But as soon as he began wiping himself, he realized something was very, very wrong. It wasn't a cold he'd caught. He didn't know how or even when it happened - it had been there last night when he'd showered - but now something very important to him had somehow gone inexplicably AWOL. Tim jumped to his feet. Several parts of his body seemed to move differently than he remembered. He wasn't exactly sure how he could know, but he definitely had a really bad feeling about this. Within a nerve-wracking heartbeat, Tim had found the switch and turned on the light. After waiting the several moments it took for his eyes to adjust to the abrupt change in lighting, Tim stared at his reflection in dumbfounded disbelief. "How can this be possible?" he whispered under his breath. But the softer higher tones of his voice in his ears were no less shocking than his appearance. Sometime during the night, Tim's hair had turned dark red and had grown out to shoulder-length. His hands were smaller than he remembered. And his fingers had also become longer and more slender. Even though he could sort of see himself in this reflection if he looked long and hard enough, Tim doubted anyone else would. This simply wasn't the Timothy Drake he'd always seen looking back at him from the silvered surface. In spite of knowing what he saw was impossible, that was undeniably a naked girl in the mirror. One of Tim's now slender hands slowly reached down to his crotch. Once his hand verified that it was still gone, he looked down for a visual confirmation. "So that's what a girl looks like down there," whispered Tim. "How very strange?" Returning his gaze to his image in the mirror, Tim stared at his altered self. This was totally unbelievable. He had tits... a real pair of tits. The very last thing - or things to be more precise - Tim had ever expected to find hanging from his chest were tits. At least they weren't humongous ones like some of the girls had. But they were definitely large enough to be noticeable. And just who might be noticing them wasn't something that Tim wanted to readily consider. Plain and simple, Tim didn't want to be a girl. "This isn't fair," he muttered angrily. "It's just not fair." Suddenly overwhelmed by his inexplicable and impossible situation, Tim began screaming like a crazed banshee. It was a loud frightening screech that threatened to awaken the dead. Tim's scream never wavered. He couldn't stop. Until finally, quite mercifully, Tim passed out. *** Tim groaned softly as he awoke once again. The fact that he was back in his bed made him think the strange things he'd been through must have all been a part of some weird dream. He was Tim Drake. There was no way he could be a girl. "I think she's finally coming around, Master Bruce," said Alfred with concern clearly evident in his voice. 'She?' thought Tim. He was certain this had to be some kind of bad joke. But his exploring hand quickly determined otherwise. Tim still had a firm pair of tits. And he was clearly no longer naked. If it actually were some kind of joke, it had very definitely gone too far. "What happened, Carrie?" asked Bruce with the same concern in his voice that Tim had heard in Alfred's. "We heard your scream, Miss Carrie," said Alfred. "It was so terrifying. We were afraid someone might have broken into your room while you were sleeping and attacked you. We came to investigate as quickly as possible." "When we arrived, you were already passed out on the floor," added Bruce. "But there were no signs of any struggle. There were no indications that anyone except you had been in this room tonight." As Tim opened his eyes, he slowly looked about the room. It was, and yet it wasn't, the room in which he'd gone to sleep. However, he felt better when he saw his Robin costume was still in the chair between the mirror and the bed where he tossed it last night. Mirror? He didn't remember a mirror being there? And the room itself was painted a softer, more pastel, color than he remembered. Even stranger - Tim couldn't explain it - the room somehow had the feel of a room that belonged to teenage girl. "Why are you both calling me, Carrie?" asked Tim. Bruce and Alfred exchanged puzzled glances. Tim could clearly see that both of them were worried about something. But what could it be? "It's your name," replied Bruce. "Don't you remember your name? You're Carrie Kelly." "No, I'm not," objected Tim. "It's me. I'm Tim... Timothy Drake." He casually swept his red hair away from the front of his face. "Don't you remember who I am?" "This can't be good, Master Bruce." "I definitely agree, Alfred." Turned back to Tim, Bruce said, "I'm afraid I don't know anyone named Timothy Drake, Carrie." "Is he a new friend of yours, Miss Carrie?" "What's wrong with you two? Both of you must know that I'm actually Tim Drake," he insisted. "I'm Robin. And you're Batman, Bruce. You can't tell me you don't remember that. Some people have even called me Robin the Boy Wonder." Once again Bruce and Alfred exchanged puzzled glances. Tim wondered what could possibly be wrong with them. They certainly had to know this girl's body he'd found himself in wasn't really him. "This might not be as bad as we first thought, Alfred." Bruce turned his attention back to Tim. "Of course, you're Robin. There was never any doubt in my mind about you being Robin, Carrie." "But why would anyone that had seen you dressed as Robin refer to you as a 'Boy Wonder', Miss Carrie?" asked Alfred. "Anyone mistaking you for a boy has serious problems to deal with, Miss Carrie. You're definitely not a boy; you've been a girl since the first day we met." "But that's not right," objected Tim again. "I know exactly who I am," he insisted. "I'm Tim Drake, not Carrie Kelly. And I'm a boy, not a girl." "Calm down, Miss Carrie," pleaded Alfred. "What could have possibly caused Miss Carrie to become so confused about who she is, Master Bruce?" "I'm not the least bit confused!" exclaimed Tim. "I know who I am!" Bruce shook his head. "I'm convinced this has to be the sinister work of Joker, Alfred. It's the only thing that really makes any sense. Last night that perfidious clown splashed some strange foul smelling brew on both Robin and me. I'd thought it mostly harmless at the time, but I should have known better with that menace involved." Bruce began pacing the floor. "Apparently my costume protected me from the effects of his foul concoction, but some of whatever it was must have been absorbed through Carrie's exposed skin. It was obviously hallucinogenic in nature. How typical of something Joker would do?" Bruce's pacing quickened. "And it's made her somehow believe she's really this boy Tim Drake instead of Carrie Kelly." "But that's not what happened!" objected Tim. But after a moment of reconsideration, he added in admission, "Well, it sorta was. It's just that I clearly remember being Tim Drake last night when we took on Joker. But after he escaped, you told me to come back here because I looked totally exhausted. If I hadn't been so tired, I would have never left you there to face him alone. You can't keep protecting me from Joker because of what happened to Jason." Bruce stopped his pacing and glared at Tim. Tim, afraid he'd overstepped his bounds, took a deep breath. Only when Bruce said nothing did Tim continue. "When I got back here last night, I was exhausted. I couldn't have smelled worse if I'd taken a long swim in the Gotham sewage system. I took a long hot shower, which made me feel better. After that, I went straight to bed. And that's all I remember until I woke up in this female body." Tim looked towards the chair again. He was relieved to see his Robin costume still crumpled up there. "But the Joker didn't escape us last night, Carrie," replied Bruce. "He was back in his Arkham cell before either of us went to bed." "That's not possible." "It's a fact," replied Bruce. "You were an integral part of his capture. And you were standing right beside me as the Arkham officials returned him to his cell. Tim didn't know what to think about what he was being told. Was it actually possible that Joker's foul concoction had played with his mind? It certainly sounded like something Joker would pull. But no, that wasn't it. That couldn't be it. Tim was just as sure of that as he was certain he knew who he was. He was Tim Drake; he wasn't Carrie Kelly. At that moment, Alfred picked up the Robin costume from the chair and began straightening it out. "Even as secure as the manor is, Miss Carrie, you shouldn't leave your Robin costume lying around in the open where just anyone might find it." But Tim could only stare at the costume in Alfred's hands. 'How can this be?' he wondered. That wasn't his costume. At least, in spite of the clearly visible script 'R' on its chest, it was no longer a costume he could ever imagine Tim Drake wearing. But he definitely had no such problems imagining Carrie Kelly wearing the now decidedly feminine attire he saw in Alfred's hands. From where had its short skirt and sleeveless top come? It hadn't been that way last night. Tim was certain of that. "Why aren't things the way I remember them being?" asked Tim. "What's going on, Bruce?" "I'm not sure. What do you remember, Carrie?" asked Bruce. "Do you remember how you became Robin?" Tim glared at his partner. "How could I ever forget something as important as that?" Bruce smiled. "Then why don't you tell us? If nothing else, it might give us a clue as to the extent of your delusion." "It's not my delusion, Bruce," snapped Tim. "You were also there last night. This delusion could be yours just as easily as mine." "Then how do you explain what I know, Miss Carrie?" asked Alfred. "I wasn't there last night, so the Joker's potion couldn't possibly have affected me." "I can't, Alfred. At least, not just yet," replied Tim. "But there must be a reasonable explanation for what's going on and I'll figure it out sooner or later." "I'm sure you will, Carrie. You have always had remarkable powers of deduction," replied Bruce. "But I'm sure you'll agree the best place to start this investigation is in comparing our memories." "You're probably right about that," agreed Tim. "Where do you think we should start?" "How about the circus?" suggested Bruce. "That's an excellent place to start," replied Tim. "When I was young my parents took me to the Haly Circus. I had my picture taken with the Flying Graysons. I was there in the stands when the trapeze ropes broke and Dick's parents fell to their deaths. It was horrible; I had nightmares for years." Bruce nodded his head. "A few years later, I was watching the news and saw Robin save Batman with a perfect quadruple hop. I realized then and there that Dick Grayson had to be Robin. And that implied that you, since Dick was your ward, you might be Batman. I watched you and learned. When Dick left, eventually becoming Nightwing, no Robin fought by Batman's side. But not long after you adopted Jason Todd, there was a new Robin once more fighting alongside Batman. After Jason was killed by the Joker, Robin once again disappeared." Bruce merely nodded his head again. "But after Jason's death, you began changing. You became crueler and more violent. Criminals were more likely to end up in a hospital than in jail." Bruce shuddered. Alfred briefly put a hand on his shoulder to comfort him. "I figured out that you needed a Robin to help combat your dark side. I went to see Nightwing in New York for his help. I thought if he'd agree to become Robin again that everything would soon be all right once more. But Dick refused to become Robin again. I was surprised when he suggested that I become Robin. With Dick and Alfred's help, we somehow managed to convince you to return to the right path. And finally, once again with help from Dick and Alfred, I convinced you to let me become the new Robin." "I remember those events as if they happened just yesterday, Miss Carrie," said Alfred. "It certainly sounded like what happened, Master Bruce." "It certainly did, Alfred." Bruce turned back to Tim, who he still considered Carrie. "Do you remember why I was hesitant to allow you to become Robin?" "You wanted to make sure I was fully trained and could protect myself in any circumstance," replied Tim, thinking they were finally making headway. "You didn't want me, or anyone else under your wing, becoming another Jason." "That was part of it. Do you remember me telling you anything else?" "I don't think so." Bruce sighed. "Don't you remember me telling you that crime-fighting would be a rough life for a young girl?" Tim's eyes widened with stunned surprise. "You never told me anything like that!" exclaimed Tim. He'd been thinking they'd finally begun making some progress, but now he wasn't overly sure what he thought. "Master Bruce most assuredly did, Miss Carrie," replied Alfred. "I plainly heard him tell you that myself, as did Master Dick." "But that can't be," said Tim. "I would have remembered something like that." "It seems the Joker's potion has somehow only affected your sense of self," said Bruce. "Although I don't know where your subconscious got the name, I suspect that's why you think you're this boy named Timothy Drake." "But I am a boy," replied the thoroughly shaken Tim. "I am Timothy Drake." And yet truthfully, he wondered whether he was or he wasn't. "Perhaps you should rest for a while, Miss Carrie. It might help." "I kind of doubt it will, Alfred." "But nevertheless, it's still a very good idea, Carrie," said Bruce. "It will also give me some time in the Batcave to run some tests and hopefully develop an antidote." Tim slipped back down into the bed. "Okay, Bruce." Suddenly, he just didn't feel very well at all. *** Tim stared at the ceiling. He was still wide awake. He was certain Bruce and Alfred had meant for him to sleep when they'd told him to get a little rest. But how could he possibly sleep this way? If he moved his head, hair either swished across his shoulders or found its way into his mouth. And how did real girls ever learn to sleep when their boobs never stopped jiggling whenever they moved. Suddenly, there was knock on the door. Even though he didn't really feel like having visitors, he wasn't too fond of lying around doing nothing either. Tim wondered who it might be. "Who is it?" he asked nervously, hoping whoever it was would know him as Tim and not Carrie. At the same time, he wondered if he'd ever get used to the sound of the higher pitched female voice coming out of his mouth. As the door slowly swung open, Tim's mouth dropped wide open. "Kon-El?" he whispered. Even though they were friends, Tim certainly hadn't been expecting him to show up. "What are you doing here?" "Isn't that perfectly obvious?" smiled Superboy. "I came by to see you, Carrie. When Bruce called, he told me you weren't feeling too good, because the Joker had somehow messed with your head. Bruce thought having some company might help you pull your own memories back together again." Tim stared in bewildered disbelief at his Young Justice comrade. "Not you too," he complained. It was suddenly Kon-El's turn to look surprised. "Not me too what?" he asked. "You just called me Carrie," replied Tim with annoyance. "Everyone else around here has been calling me that name since I woke up this morning. Why did you call me Carrie, Kon?" Kon-El's look of surprise quickly turned to one of confusion. "I don't understand what you mean. Why shouldn't I call you Carrie?" he asked. "Your name's Carrie Kelly. Or I suppose we could become more formal. I can always call you Robin if that's what you'd prefer." "That's not what I meant at all, Kon. It's just that my name isn't really Carrie." Tim paused for moment. "My name's actually Tim. Please tell me you remember that I'm Timothy Drake?" "Timothy Drake?" Kon-El's eyes widened in stunned surprise. "But you can't be. Tim's a guy's name," he replied, shaking his head. "Bruce said you were having a problem because of something the Joker did to you last night when he called, but he didn't go into details. I could have never imagined it was something this bad. For as long as I've known you, you've been Carrie Kelly." Superboy began smiling at him. "I really think I would have noticed before now if you were really some guy, babe." "Babe?" whispered Tim nervously. Given Superboy's reputation - whether he deserved it or not - he didn't like the sound of that. "You aren't trying to tell me that I... that is, you... and me..." Superboy began laughing. "Of course not, Carrie. Even though I've always thought you were a real babe, we're just good friends," he replied. "I thought you knew it was Bart you really had to look out for. He's been a little shy about telling you what he thinks, but I kind of think he's got a case of the hots for that shapely bod of yours, Carrie." "That's just what I needed right now," muttered Tim. "Besides, I thought you knew that Cassie and I were probably the hottest item around right now." "You and Cassie Sandsmark?" Tim hadn't heard anything about them being a couple. But he'd have to concede that a pairing of Superboy and Wonder Girl had rather nice ring to it. "When did that happen?" "It's a fairly recent event, but I'm surprised you didn't know about it," replied the Boy of Steel. "I was certain Cassie had said she'd told all the other girls of Young Justice about us. I don't know why she wouldn't have told you, Carrie. It's always been a lot easier for me to tell the other guys, you know. I only had to speak to Bart. As you know, Bart's the only other guy in our group." "But you know that's not true," Tim sighed. "I'm really a guy. That must be why Cassie didn't tell me about you being a couple. You just don't remember I'm a guy for some unknown reason." Tim realized his current course of action wasn't getting him anywhere very fast. And Kon-El definitely wasn't going to be much help if kept insisting on calling him Carrie. But how could the Joker's strange potion have possibly affected Kon when he hadn't even been there. Something was wrong. None of this made any logical sense. Tim was now convinced whatever it was had to be something very simple. "There's just no way you're a guy, Carrie," replied Superboy. "Now or ever." "But I really am a guy. I know I am," insisted Tim. "There simply must be a way for me to prove it." "When you finally find that proof, I'd sure like to see it," replied Superboy. "And while you're at, maybe you can find some proof that the moon is made of green cheese." Tim, not in the least bit happy about his friend's insensitive poke, glared angrily at Superboy. "I know you think I'm Carrie Kelly for some unknown reason, Kon, but I swear to you that I'm really Tim Drake." "You can swear all you like," replied Kon. "I just can't imagine any way I could ever believe something so utterly preposterous." 'Stubborn fool,' thought Tim with a growing frown. "I think I know just what you mean, Kon," he reluctantly agreed, while he absently fingered his unmistakable female breasts." "You know, I was just thinking," said Kon-El. "Maybe this is all just part of some strange dream you're having, Carrie." "A dream? Do you really think so?" mumbled Tim. Everything happening was certainly quite strange, but a dream... Could that be possible? Maybe. Dreams wouldn't be confined within any logical boundary. And being a dream would explain several otherwise inexplicable details he'd been puzzling over, such as Kon and possibly even Alfred knowing me only as Carrie and not Tim. But that raised another question in Tim's mind. If this were truly his dream, then why would Kon-El think it might be a dream? A dream was something Tim hadn't even considered until Kon brought it up. "If this is my dream, then I should be able to control it." "That sounds perfectly plausible to me, Carrie. Why don't you give it a try and see what happens?" "I suppose it couldn't hurt anything. Could it?" Tim closed his eyes and began concentrating on regaining his male Tim Drake form again. All of a sudden, he felt an odd inexplicable twinge sweep across his body. It was sort of, but not quite, like he'd twisted something. Very clearly something had just happened. With sudden renewed hope that this mess would soon be over, Tim opened his eyes. But those hopes were swiftly dashed when he discovered he was still the same redheaded girl he'd been before. In spite of what he'd felt, nothing had actually changed in the slightest. "Didn't it work, Carrie? I can't say I'm overly surprised." Tim turned at the sound of the strange voice. "What have I done?" he whispered as he stared in amazement at the changes in his visitor. "Is that really you, Kon-El?" "Kon-El? Just who is this Kon-El supposed to be, Carrie?" asked the pretty girl with the dark waist-length hair who was now standing in the exact same place Kon-El had been before Tim had closed his eyes. The prominent letter 'S' of her costume across her chest unmistakably identified her. But it was also the only thing about what she was wearing that hadn't radically changed in the short time Tim's eyes had been closed. Her short skirt and tank top might not have been overly daring for this new girl, but they were definitely nothing Kon-El would have ever considered wearing. "You are," replied Tim. "You're Kon-El. Don't you remember who you are?" "Just why would I ever remember something as totally lame as that?" replied the girl who had been Superboy just moments earlier. "My name is Lara. It's always been Lara, except, of course, when I'm fighting crime as Supergirl." "But you're not Supergirl," objected Tim. "You're Superboy." Lara shook her head. "Bruce was certainly right about you having major head problems." As she threw back her shoulders, Lara's already impressively sized breasts seemed to grow even larger. After putting her hands on her hips, she smiled at Tim. "Just look at this incredibly hot sexy bod of mine, Carrie. How could you ever think this is some boy's body? It's certainly a super bod - there's no doubt about that - but there's absolutely nothing boyish about it." Lara smiled at Tim. "It's a good thing I know you're not yourself today, Carrie. Otherwise, I might be offended." Tim couldn't believe what was happening. "But how can you be a girl, Lara?" He saw no reason to continue antagonizing her by calling her anything else. "You're the clone of a man." "Well, duh. Gee whiz," smiled Lara. "It just goes to show you that you don't know everything about everything, Carrie Kelly. When the Cadmus Project people finally managed to patch Superman's aura into David Westfield's DNA pattern, something about the Kryptonian aura caused Dr. Westfield's human Y-chromosome to spontaneously mutate into another X. And viola, they had me - lucky number clone 13." "I didn't know that." And yet, Tim didn't really believe a word of her story. But Tim also assumed he'd be the only person with any problems concerning this Supergirl's origin. "You wanna know something else, Carrie?" asked Lara. "I was really hoping we could go down and lie by the pool for a while. I wanted to find out how I looked in this string bikini I bought. And I really think it would be better if we did that before Bart shows up. You know how Bart can be around us sometimes." "You bought yourself a string bikini?" asked Tim. He was wondering what could be wrong with her. Even taking her change of sex into consideration, she was acting strangely. "Of course I did, silly. Why wouldn't I buy myself one?" replied Lara. "I've always said if you've got it, you gotta flaunt it. And I'm sure you'll agree that I've certainly got it." "What did you mean when you said Bart's coming over?" "Well, duh," replied Lara. "What do you think it means?" she smiled. "I called him right after Bruce called me. I'll have you know Bart sounded really worried about you on the phone. I'm sure you know, as well as all the other girls in Young Justice do, that Bart watches over you like an overprotective mother hawk. If you ask me, I think that boy has designs on that killer hot bod of yours." "He does? You really think so?" Tim definitely didn't like the sound of that either. But he didn't have time to worry about that just now. Whatever was going on kept getting worse and worse all the time. And Tim had no clue what he'd do if Bart tried kissing him. "Don't go all innocent on me now, girl," scolded Lara. "We all know that Bart's the only guy in Young Justice. You've got him hooked around your little finger and everybody knows it but Bart." Lara smiled wistfully. "He is kind of cute, you know. And sometimes I wish he'd look at me the way he's always looking at you." Tim swallowed nervously. He didn't like this idea that Bart had been watching him, probably in that same way he'd always watched girls in the past. Tim was suddenly furious with Bart. He thought he should slap his face for thinking those kinds of thoughts about him. "But what about you and Cassie?" he asked Lara, hoping to get Bart off his mind. "You're kidding? Right?" smiled Lara. "Cassie and me? We're just friends. All those wild nasty rumors circulating about Wonder Girl and Supergirl having some kind of a fling are nothing more than lies and innuendo." Lara crossed her arms under her breasts. "Both of us like guys; you know that. And wasn't it just yesterday that all us girls were sitting around wishing Young Justice had more boy members than just Bart, who only has eyes for you?" There was a sudden inexplicable breeze in the room. Since all the windows were closed that probably meant... "You were just talking about me," said Impulse as he slowed down enough to be seen. "You really can't deny it. I heard every word you said about me." "Hi Bart," said Lara in a highly suggestive tone of voice. "I've been wondering when you were going to get here." "I got here as quick as I could after you called, Lara," replied Bart with a quick glance in Tim's direction. "I suppose I could have arrived at some time before you called, but I've already had more than my fair share of paradoxes in my life caused by strange interactions with the speed force." As he turned, his full attention focused on Tim. "How are you doing, Carrie?" he asked with clearly evident concern. "Lara said you had a bad run in with the Joker last night and weren't feeling too good when she called me earlier." "You too?" quipped Tim. "I guess I should have expected it, but that still doesn't mean I have to believe any of this." "Me too what?" asked the puzzled red and white clad speedster. "Just what's not that believable, Carrie?" "You called her Carrie, silly boy," replied Lara, "just like I did." Bart looked even more puzzled now. "Just what's the problem with that?" he asked. "Carrie's her name. Isn't it?" "You and I think so. So do Bruce and Alfred. And probably everybody else in the world thinks so," replied Lara, as she absently flicked her long hair away from the front of her face. "But ever since I got here - and probably before that - she's been insisting she's someone named Timothy Drake." "Now I'm really worried about her," replied Bart. "Timothy is a guy's name. There's definitely no way that Carrie's a guy." "That's just what I've been telling her, Barty poo," replied Lara. "But would she listen to me? No. No one ever listens to me." "It would probably be worse if you were a blonde," remarked Bart absently. "If you say so. But you've always been such a pig," replied Lara. "But that's not even the worst of it, you know. Somehow Carrie's got it into her head that I used to be a boy before she turned me into a girl. She even called me Kon-El, whatever that really means. And I sure can't understand why she thinks I'm really Superboy." Lara looked at Bart with huge doe-like eyes. "Do I look like a Superboy to you, Barty poo?" "Don't call me Barty poo, Lara." Bart looked towards Tim. "You really aren't feeling very good. Are you, Carrie?" Looked over at Lara again for a moment. "I suppose I'd better be careful being around you, Carrie. Otherwise I'm bound to wake up a girl like Lara. I'm not too sure I'd like that," smiled Bart. "This is not some joke, Bart," insisted Tim. "I don't know how I did it, but I really did change Kon-El into Lara. Only Lara doesn't remember being Kon-El like I remember being Tim." "That's an intriguing theory you have, Carrie," replied Bart. "But it's also complicated. And anything that complex is generally full of holes. For example, if Lara really used to be this Kon-El fellow you think she was, then why don't I remember her being him too?" "I don't know why," admitted Tim. "I just know it's true. You've just got to believe me." "But what about me?" objected Lara. "I know I've always been Lara." Tears began welling in Lara's eyes. "I really don't know why you should believe her and not me." "Fascinating," replied Bart. "And just how do you think you changed this Kon-El person into Lara?" "It was an accident. I didn't mean to do it," sighed Tim. "Kon-El suggested we might be living in a world of my dreams. I was only trying to alter this dream world a little so I would be changed back into Tim. But it didn't work that way. When I opened my eyes, instead of me being Tim again, Kon-El had been turned into Lara." "We think she's been exposed to some potent strange new hallucinogen. Bruce told me that the Joker was the cause of all her problems." "That figures," snarled Bart. "The people at Arkham should weld that clown's door shut." Bart turned back to Tim. "Why don't you show me what you did that you think made Lara a girl?" "I can't do that." Tim was horrified at the suggestion. "It might change you into girl just as it did Kon-El." "I wouldn't be asking you to try it again if I thought that was even remotely possible, Carrie," smiled Bart. "What you think you did is simply impossible. Besides, I've never wanted to be a girl." "You think I did?" snapped Tim quickly. "I don't really think what you or anyone else wants has anything to do with what happens. I'm sure Kon-El didn't want to wind up as Lara." "And just what is wrong with being me?" snapped Lara. "I've never wanted to be a guy. With a hot sexy body like this, why would I even consider - not that I ever would - becoming some dumb boy?" Tim shook his head. It was hard arguing with Lara, particularly since she no longer had memories of being Kon-El. "So what did you do to affect this change?" asked Bart. "Are you sure you want to do this, Bart?" "I'm positive." Anxiously Tim began explaining what he'd done. "I closed my eyes." Absently he closed his eyes. "I began thinking of myself as Tim Drake again instead of Carrie Kelly." In his mind, he began thinking along those same lines. Suddenly, just as before, Tim felt that same inexplicably odd twinge that was sort of, but not quite, a twist. Clearly, something had once again happened. And Tim dreaded the idea that he knew exactly what had just happened. Tim wasn't the least bit surprised at discovering he was still the same redheaded girl he'd been before. He'd actually been expecting that result. However, Tim wasn't the least bit surprised that the same thing could not be said about Bart. Where Bart had been standing before now stood a rather busty young woman in a tight form-fitting red and white Impulse costume that, aside from its clingy tightness, was not all that much different than the one Bart normally wore. "See? What did I tell you, Carrie?" said the girl after a quick look around the room. "It's just as I figured. Nothing's happened to me at all. I'm still me, Meloni Thawne, and nobody else." Tim stared at the busty girl who now called herself Meloni Thawne. Why had he so stupidly let Bart talk him into doing something that he knew shouldn't be done? Now Bart Allen was trapped in the body of a girl just like he and Kon-El were. "Are you saying you don't remember being Bart Allen?" he asked. The new Meloni seemed to pale for an instant. "That's not what I said at all. I clearly remember being Bart Allen before becoming Meloni Thawne. I just don't know how you could possibly know that name, Carrie Kelly." *** "How is it possible that you were a guy, Meloni?" Lara sounded like she didn't believe her. Tim also wondered if something else had begun affecting Kon-El. He - no, she was probably the better term now - had been acting increasingly stranger and stranger. "I knew your name was Bart, because that's who you were before I did whatever it was I did that changed you into Meloni," explained Tim. "Not that same old story again," frowned Lara. She turned to Meloni. "Carrie's been continually trying to convince me that I'm only me because she turned some strange guy with the stupid sounding name Kon-El into me." Lara shook her head. "I'm not buying into that really stupid story of hers, Meloni. And you really shouldn't either, you know." "I don't know anything about your particular case, Lara, but in any event, Carrie's story still sounds highly implausible," replied Meloni. "However, in my own personal case, I definitely know that Carrie had nothing to do with my old male Bart self becoming my current female Meloni self." "But that just isn't possible," objected Tim. "I know what I saw." "But you only think you saw what you thought you saw, you know," said Lara. "Besides, you didn't see anything; you had your eyes closed all the time. And I certainly never saw that Bart fellow, or any other guy, in your room today. And you'd better believe me, Carrie," - she looked straight at Meloni - "when I tell you I certainly know a guy when I see one." Meloni took a long deep breath, then let it out again in a sigh. "I never expected to tell anyone this story, but if it will help Carrie, I guess I must. I'm sure you remember that I was born in the 30th century and am the granddaughter of Barry and Iris West Allen." "Grandson," mouthed Tim, even as Lara nodded her head in agreement with Meloni. "I suppose that might have been considered true once, Carrie, since I was actually a boy when I was born." Lara frowned at that statement. "I was also born with a hyper-accelerated metabolism that caused me to age a lot faster than normal. Without a cure to my problem, I would have been long dead of extreme old age before I could have ever become a teenager." Lara gasped, as if she'd never heard the tale before. But Tim, having already heard Bart's story several times, simply took it all in his stride. "When the scientists of the 30th century couldn't find a cure for my condition, Grandma Iris brought me back to the 20th century to see if her nephew Wally West, who was then the current Flash, could find a solution for my problem. "You see, my cousin Wally has had more practical experience with the speed force out in the field than all those future scientists put together had working in their labs. Grandma Iris was convinced Wally could help me. "Wally had me tap into the speed force so I could accelerate with an extreme burst of incredible speed. Just as Wally thought it might, the energy released by that single burst shocked my system back into normalcy. Afterwards, even though I totally retained my connection with the speed force, I began aging normally for the very first time in my life. But there was one additional minor little complication no one had even anticipated. I really don't know whether Grandma Iris, cousin Wally, or I was more surprised to discover that shock to my system had also performed an unexpected and unauthorized sex change on me." "Now that's a story I can really believe," giggled Lara. "I was one really confused boy - that is, girl - for quite a while after that. But with Grandma Iris' inexhaustible patience and help - she'd always wanted another granddaughter - I finally adjusted to being a girl. I even got to choose my own new name - Meloni was my mother's name, you know. I thought picking it would help Grandpa Thawne more accepting of the Allen's, but I've come to realize since then that nothing could have ever helped him get over his hatred for people who could tap into the speed force. "But I still feel a little uncomfortable around boys my own age, which is one of the main reasons I joined the all girl team Young Justice." "But we weren't an all girl team yesterday," objected Tim. "We weren't even an all girl team fifteen minutes ago." Lara and Meloni quickly exchanged worried glances. "I don't really think we're helping you with your problem, Carrie." "We seem to be doing you more harm than good, you know," added Lara. Tim sighed. "I just don't know what to tell you. It's all been so weird. None of this makes any real sense to me. I can see Bruce and me being affected by the Joker's odd concoction; we were there. But Alfred wasn't there. And you guys certainly weren't there either. "Why do I remember being Tim when Lara recalls nothing about being Kon-El? And that's totally inconsistent with Meloni remembering being a different Bart than the one I remember her being. There's just no real logic behind any of this. Every change that's happened has been unpredictable and contradictory to all the others. Even for a madman like the Joker this is horrible science." "I see what you mean, sort of," said Lara absently. "And not that I really believe any of this for an instant, but if I did, you know, and I don't, then I might think some really nasty bad guy had come along and cast some kind of weird evil spell over all of us." "Really, Lara," sighed Meloni. "That's a really lame idea, even coming from you. You're starting to sound almost as bad as Carrie." She looked alternately at Lara and Tim. "Both of you know as well as I do that there's no such thing as magic." "Magic!" exclaimed Tim as he slapped his forehead with his open palm. "Timothy Drake, you can be such an idiot at times. I should have known it was magic behind all these inane goings on all along. Its total illogic is the only thing that makes any sense in this whole nonsensical situation." Once again Lara and Meloni exchanged quick worried glances. "I think she's getting worse, Lara." "I think we'd better get Bruce and Alfred, you know." "Not just yet, girls. I've finally figured it all out," he said with a widening smile. "Mxyzptlk! Get your devious little imp butt out here this instant!" he shouted into the air. "I know you're behind all this weirdness going on around here. It can't possibly be anyone else but you." Lara looked confused. It was becomingly an increasingly common look for her. "Just who or what is a Mixulapicslik?" "It isn't pronounced Mixulapicslik, young lady," said the prankish 5th dimensional imp as he popped into full view. "I don't really see where the confusion arises in pronouncing such a simple name as mine. It is pronounced Mxyzptlk," smiled the imp. "But I'll make a special exception for you, young lady. You may call me Mister Mxyzptlk." "Whatever," giggled Lara. She smiled at the imp. "You know, you're kind of cute for a short old dude. But you'd really have to lose all that icky gray hair and fill in that bald spot before I'd ever consider going out on a date with you." "You're impossible, Lara." "I know that, Meloni," replied Supergirl as if she'd just been complimented. "Isn't this just so much fun." Mxyzptlk sighed. "I guess I shouldn't have lowered that one's IQ quite so much. The body seems to have taken over control." The imp, smiling mischievously, turned his attention towards Tim. "With all the clues I've been giving you, smart guy, I was beginning to wonder if you'd ever figure this out. Everyone kept telling me that you were very clever, Tim." "Who is this strange guy, Carrie?" asked Meloni. "And how can he possibly float around in the air like that?" "I am Mr. Mxyzptlk, dear girl," chuckled the imp. "I hail from the 5th dimension, as you'd know if you were still your former boring self. Where I'm from, even the smallest babies are capable of floating about in air." "Why did Mixulapicslik call you Tim, Carrie?" asked Lara. "Do you think he knows I think he's really cute?" she giggled. "I should have made her a blonde," muttered the imp under his breath. "She's definitely got the dumb act down perfectly." "It's my name, Lara," replied Tim. "Don't you remember me telling you earlier that my name was really Tim?" "Yeah, I suppose I do now that you mention it," replied Lara. "But I really don't believe that story about you being a guy any more now than I did then." "Enough of this mindless prattle," snarled the annoyed imp. With a casual snap of his fingers, Meloni, Lara, and Tim found themselves wearing string bikinis. Lara was suddenly beaming. Although it hadn't been noticeable before, her breasts had clearly been enlarging in apparent compensation for the dropping of her IQ. "I just knew my hot sexy body would look great in one of these." She posed in front of a mirror that, were it really there, no one else could see. "And, even though you don't look nearly as good as me, you still look real hot in yours too, Meloni." When Lara turned towards Tim, she slowly shook her head with obvious disappointment. "Before you go out in public dressed like that, I'd consider getting a boob job if I were you, Carrie." Tim glared at Lara and then at the imp. Mxyzptlk simply shrugged his shoulders, as if to say it wasn't his fault Tim's breasts were so paltry and small in comparison. "How would you girls like to go to a party?" he asked Lara and Meloni. "A party? Really? Where is it at?" gushed Lara. "I hope it's at the beach. I just love going to beach parties." "How did you ever know the party I had in mind was at the beach?" grinned the imp. "How does she know anything anymore?" grumbled Tim. "We're really sorry you can't go with us, Carrie," said Meloni. Was it Tim's imagination or had Meloni's breasts also begun swelling? "Before we go we'll tell Bruce and Alfred we have to attend to some Young Justice business," she winked. "Beach parties are always so much fun for me," giggled Lara. "It's too bad you're still sick, Carrie. I really wish you could go with us," she pouted. "I really think getting you laid would really help you out a whole lot with all your problems, Carrie." Lara went over and hugged Tim. "Give this note to that hot cutie Mixulapicslik before he leaves," she whispered in Tim's ear. "Sure," Tim whispered back. "Why not? What can it hurt?" Tim found it horribly distressing that Lara had apparently developed such a one-track mind now that her mental abilities had apparently degraded, with obvious help from the foul imp, into little more than a brunette bubbleheaded bimbo. "I think we should be leaving for the beach now, Meloni," giggled Lara. "All those boys, who are expecting us, will be wondering where we are." She turned back towards Tim. "And don't you forget to think about that boob job, Carrie. I think you'll be like totally amazed what a decent-sized pair of boobs can do for your love life." With a snap of Mxyzptlk's fingers, Meloni and Lara vanished. "I was beginning to think they'd never leave," grinned the imp. "Weren't you wondering about that as well, my dear." "Where did they go? What did you do to them?" "Weren't you listening to me earlier?" replied Mxyzptlk. "I've sent them to that beach party, of course. I'm sure you wouldn't want your new girl friends to be late just because they came here first to see how you were. I'd certainly expect that a couple of hot looking babes like them will be the life of the party... if you know what I mean," he winked. "You can't do that to them!" screamed Tim. "Of course I can," grinned the devilish sprite. "I've just done it. Weren't you even watching?" "That's not what I meant," snapped Tim. "You shouldn't go around doing that to anyone." "Why not? It's very simple. I can do it, so I did it." Mxyzptlk continued grinning. "Where's the problem in that? How could I ever have any fun not doing what I do best?" "But it's all wrong. You're simply incorrigible." "So I've been told," quipped the imp. "Many hundreds of times in fact." A playful smile began spreading across Mxyzptlk's face. "Have you given any more thought to that boob job, Tim?" The imp's question caught Tim off balance. "What?" he exclaimed. But the question wasn't the only thing off balance with Tim at that moment. He almost fell over as his center of gravity changed when his small breasts quickly swelled to a larger size somewhere between Lara's and Meloni's." "This is definitely a much better look for you," grinned Mxyzptlk lustfully. "Lara might no longer be the bright boy she once was, but she was totally dead center about your boob job, Tim. They look simply marvelous, you know. I'm sure all the boys will be dying to get a closer, preferably uncovered, look at them." "Will you cut it out!" exclaimed Tim, as he sheepishly felt at his newly expanded breasts. A large pair of shears suddenly appeared in the imp's hand. "Only if I can find where you've hidden it," he cackled. "Stop it!" "And what if I don't want to stop it, young lady?" Tim gritted his teeth. "Then I'll have to make you. Won't I?" The imp's grin widened. "That doesn't seem overly possible, Tim." A puff of smoke later, Mxyzptlk was wearing boxer trunks complete with oversized gloves on his hands. "I coulda been a contender, you know. So put up your dukes, little girlie," he said as he lifted his fists into position. Tim groaned. "Put on some clothes before you make me puke." "Spoilsport," snapped the imp, even as another puff of smoke returned his normal attire. "I know just what will make you happy, Tim." His smile made Tim nervous. "Kilscipaluxim!" he shouted. "What was that supposed to be?" "That was my name spoken backwards, of course." The imp's constant grin was simply infuriating. "Just what did you think it was?" "I don't know what it was," snarled Tim. "But it definitely wasn't your name spoken backwards." "You know, you're right about that. How foolish of me to make such a typically human mistake?" grinned the troublesome imp. "That was the name your friend, the dimwitted brunette bimbo, called me spoken backwards. I saw how she looked at me. Do you think she'd enjoy an all expenses paid vacation to the 5th dimension, Tim?" Not knowing what to say, Tim slowly shook his head. "And why not? I'm a fun date; everyone says so," replied the imp. "There shouldn't be any real problems as long as we can avoid my girlfriend Miss Gsptlsnz, for as long as Lara the Dim is visiting." Tim groaned. "I'm getting a headache." "I can come back later, Tim," replied the imp. "How can you possibly continue enjoying my company, if you're feeling so poorly." 'That's a good question,' thought Tim. But thoughts of enjoying the prankster's company weren't anywhere near what was currently occupying Tim's clever mind. He needed a little time alone to regroup his thoughts in order to figure out some way of tricking the imp into saying his real name backwards. If he couldn't find some way to do that, then he had no hopes of ever restoring himself, not to mention Lara and Meloni, to their former male states. "How very nice of you to consider my feelings, Mxyzptlk." "I've always been a gentleman with the pretty ladies," smiled the imp. "Besides the union always gets on my case for harassing sick people." He smiled at Tim. "But don't you worry. I'll return as soon as you're feeling better. Adieu, for now, my young pretty Tim." "Wait a minute, imp. I almost forgot something," replied Tim. "Lara wanted me to give you this note before you left." "Fan mail from some dim bulb; I'm almost touched," grinned the imp, as he opened it up. "Perhaps you'd like to hear what she wrote, Tim." Mxyzptlk cleared his throat. As he began reading from the note, his voice had become indistinguishable from Lara's and every word appeared in smoke writing above his head. Dearest Mixulapicslik, I think you're really cute, even for an almost bald really short old guy. I really hope you think I'm cute too. When you finally realize Carrie is really dull and not much fun to hang around with, I really hope you'll join Meloni and me at the beach party. I really want to talk about becoming your one and only kltpzyxm. Love Lara. "Wasn't that kind of cute? Dull and boring, but cute," he chuckled, before finally realizing he was being drawn back to the 5th dimension. "It's not possible. I can't believe that I was tricked by someone with fewer brains than would fit into an already full breadbox." Tim felt very relieved that the imp was gone once the last traces of Mxyzptlk vanished. But he also wondered how Lara had come up with that plan in the first place. It had been a far more intelligent plan than Tim could have ever imagined Lara coming up with. Suddenly, Tim began feeling dizzy again. He decided it must be reality beginning to retake whatever Mxyzptlk had temporarily plundered from it. "I'll definitely be glad to have my real body back," he smiled, just in time to pass out and fall to the floor. *** As Tim slowly regained his senses, he was very surprised to find himself lying in bed. Keeping his eyes closed in order to savor his return to normalcy from wherever he'd been, Tim gave this matter a little more thought. It wasn't too long before he decided this bed was probably the best - and most logical - place for him to be. It was definitely better than being laid out on the floor in a heap. And the bed was certainly far more comfortable than the floor. And after all, the whole mess had started while he'd been asleep in his bed. His bed was, therefore, the most logical place for all the weirdness to come to its ultimate end. It seemed likely that whatever forces were ultimately responsible for negating all those perverse changes that impish Mxyzptlk had made had simply decided on dropping him into his bed so it could be swiftly rid of him and move on to more important things. At the same time, he could only hope something similar had happened for his friends. Tim was fairly certain that Impulse was no longer the girl Meloni Thawne and had regained his true identity of Bart Allen. He also believed that Lara, like it or not, must have returned to being Kon-El. Tim knew that none of the imp's changes, very fortunately for those transformed, were ever permanent. They quickly faded away whenever the imp returned for whatever reason to the 5th dimension. But he really hoped that his Young Justice companions, particularly Kon-El, would retain no lasting memories of anything that had happened to them. Superboy might be able to deal with the fact that he'd become the new Supergirl in town, but Tim definitely wanted no part of any confrontation with a Superboy that had even the slightest recollection of becoming Supertwit. When Tim finally decided it was time to open his eyes, he suddenly realized he had another major problem with which to deal. The bed was bigger. Even though he didn't know why or how or when it could have happened, he very clearly wasn't alone in his bed. There was some stranger sleeping in his bed with him, but it was still too dark in the room for Tim to see who it might be. At that particular moment, he wasn't prepared to turn on a light and risk awakening the stranger. Besides, Tim wasn't overly certain he wanted to know who had been sleeping beside him. Those bad feelings Tim was having about this stranger in his bed quickly worsened once he sat up. The stranger wasn't his only new problem. As he'd sat up, Tim had felt his hair - he assumed it was his - fall over and onto his shoulders. And the raising of a single hand to his chest swiftly confirmed what Tim knew should have been impossible. Those now somewhat familiar jiggling sensations he'd begun feeling on his chest were solely attributable to those twin mounds of decidedly female flesh hanging there. Somehow - for some as yet unknown reason - Tim was still a girl. He knew that couldn't be possible. Mxyzptlk's changes always vanished - at least they always had before - whenever the imp was tricked into saying his name backwards forcing his return to the 5th dimension. And he had definitely been tricked. No one could have faked the annoyance Tim had seen in the imp's eyes as he'd realized he'd been tricked and especially by whom. Or could they? And yet he'd clearly heard that trickster imp say "Kltpzyxm" - his name backwards. And he'd watched while the 5th dimension reclaimed him. Tim knew there was no possible way the imp could have remained here in this dimension. At the same time, Tim began wondering what might have happened to Kon-El and Bart? If he were still somehow a girl, then it was just as possible that one or even both of them might still be girls as well. Being very careful not to disturb the slumbering stranger - his life was already far too complicated - Tim rose as slowly and as silently as he could from the bed. Once out of the bed, he made a quick beeline straight for the bathroom. He didn't know why, but he'd had a sudden inexplicable and nearly irresistible urge to see what he looked like. Once inside the privacy of the bathroom, Tim had shut the door and turned on the light above the sink. A few seconds later - after his eyes had fully adjusted to the increased lighting - he stared at his reflected image in totally bewildered amazement. He'd been more or less expecting to see that same redheaded girl looking back at him from the mirror. Finding himself with the long hair and firm boobs his curious hands had already discovered were generally pretty good indicators of being a girl. It was just that the image in the mirror was very definitely nothing at all like what he'd been expecting. She wasn't just some teenage girl, as he'd become as Carrie Kelly. She was a young woman clearly somewhere in her early twenties. And on top of everything else, she was simply gorgeous. She had tousled blonde hair that fell over her shoulders and onto her breasts. However, Tim found this disheveled look of her hair somewhat worrisome. Even though it might have simply been the result of having been asleep, there was still that unsolved matter of that unknown person sleeping in his bed with which to contend. There might easily be another explanation - one he really didn't want to dwell on - for the young woman's unkempt appearance. She appeared to be an athlete, or at the very least athletic. She had a trim, really nice, figure with far more readily apparent curves than Carrie Kelly had ever had. Her muscles seemed nicely toned. And there didn't appear to be an extra ounce of fat anywhere on her sleek body. She also had a pair of firm full breasts. They weren't anywhere near as large as the ones Mxyzptlk had given him with that stupid boob job Lara had suggested. However, his boobs were now definitely a couple of sizes larger than those he'd first had waking up as Carrie Kelly. As Tim continued staring at his new, clearly very female, reflection, his teenage male mind was actively beginning to fantasize about her. He was after all - at least in his own head, if nowhere else at the moment - a healthy young male. And even though she was really he, the hot young woman in the mirror was definitely an equally healthy member of the female of the species. However, Tim quickly found out that this young woman's body reacted far differently to his typical male fantasies than his former male body ever had. It all felt so strange to Tim. His crotch had quickly grown damp. His nipples had stiffened. Tim had no idea whether the dampening of his crotch or the stiffening of his nipples was normal or not. But if it wasn't normal, Tim sure thought it should be. And even his mind had been invaded by alien thoughts he'd never dreamed of ever thinking. Tim felt utterly fantastic as he gently caressed his sensitive new breasts. Not once in his entire life had Tim dreamed something that made him feel so marvelously wonderful was possible. Totally caught up somewhere between the fulfillment of his male fantasies and the indescribable pleasures of his new womanhood, Tim never noticed the bathroom door slowly opening. Nor did he notice the entry of the stranger, who had, up until a few moments earlier, been peacefully sleeping in his bed, into his world. However, Tim very definitely noticed the strong pair of male arms that swiftly encircled his waist. And there was certainly no way he could have missed that someone - most likely that same man with those strong muscular arms - had begun nibbling playfully on his neck. "I'd wondered to where you wandered off, Bette, when I awoke and found you missing from our little love nest." Tim was shocked and very surprised. But it wasn't because the man had called him Bette. After all, a girl should have a girl's name. And Bette was definitely better than Tim or Timothy in that respect. Nor was it because the man had called the bed their little love nest. Tim didn't exactly like the idea of being in a love nest too much, but he'd been expecting something along those since discovering he wasn't alone. What Tim had found surprising was the stranger's voice. Although he couldn't quite place it - or put a face on it - yet, Tim was totally convinced beyond any shadow of a reasonable doubt that he knew the man who possessed this male voice from somewhere. As Tim tried to escape his clutches, the young man's strong arms held him tightly. All he'd managed to do in his unsuccessful breakaway attempt was get turned around in the young man's grasp. And yet, before Tim could even attempt to see the face of the young man holding him, his lips were firmly pressed against Tim's own. In his mind, Tim continued to struggle. He certainly didn't want to be kissed by this, or any other, man, young or old. But it was soon apparent that it wasn't really his mind that had the final say in the matter. Regardless of whatever Tim's mind might have wanted, his hot new sexy female body definitely had different ideas about what it wanted. And whatever it wanted, it seemed determined to have. Unable to object or resist the wants and needs of his body, Tim's lips were soon greedily returning the young man's kiss. Strange thoughts and even stranger desires - at least to Tim's mind - swirled madly about in his brain. Caught in the throes between mental confusion and physically arousal, Tim could no longer question or control the actions of his own body. His body soon began rejoicing as the young man effortlessly swept Tim off his feet and carried him back towards the bed he'd previously referred to as their little love nest. Even as the young man gently laid him on the bed in the still darkened room, he began kissing Tim with increasing passion again and again. Tim's body was in seventh heaven. And even though he