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Twisted By Morpheus I stifled a yawn, hoping that my English teacher didn't see how bored I was with his lecture. I couldn't help it though because he had one of those monotone voices that just burrowed into your skull and forced you to fall asleep. Unfortunately, I couldn't afford to antagonize him since I'd gotten a D in this class on my last report card and my parents would skin me alive if I got another one. Even though I tried to pay attention, my mind continued to wander. I looked around and found myself staring at a girl several seats away. Shiv Martin was sixteen, the same age as me, but she had electric blue hair that was cut short and tattoos over most of her body, including one of her cheeks. It was hard to believe that just two months ago, she had still been calling herself Cindy and had been one of the most shy and quiet students in the entire school. Now Shiv was loud, obnoxious and always looking for a fight, almost the exact opposite of what she had been as Cindy. "She's twisted all right," I sighed to myself, thinking about just how drastically Cindy had changed. Of course, it wasn't the first time that I'd seen that kind of thing happen to people, but it was still pretty unnerving. Cindy's drastic transformation into Shiv could be attributed to a disease that hasn't even been around for decades. The Kinkaide Virus, also known as the Antarctic Flu was named after John Kinkaide, a Canadian explorer who is the first known person to contract it. About fifty years ago, he was on a trip across Antarctica when he caught it and accidentally brought it home with him. Before anyone had realized it, the disease had spread like wildfire over most of North America, killing more than sixty percent of those infected. Over two million people died before a vaccine was found and the disease was finally stopped. However, that wasn't the end of the matter. Some years later, scientists discovered that the people who survived the Kinkaide Virus had somehow been subtly changed by it. The survivors didn't show any symptom's from this change, but their children most certainly did. Their bodies somehow became like antenna that could tap into some previously unknown quantum field. The first time this happened to them, usually during their adolescence, these strange quantum energies would change them in surprising and unpredictable ways. They could be completely transformed...body, mind, and soul in someone or something else. Their very lives were twisted into a new shape, so that's what they became known as...twisted. Eventually, it was discovered that their children inherited the ability to become twisted as well. My name is Blake Tyson, and I am twisted...or at least very likely to become one. So far my own twist hasn't triggered, but I know that it's only a matter of time since both my parents and my older sister were all twisted. Eventually, it would be my turn...and that scared the shit out of me. Being twisted wasn't exactly a good thing, especially among the normal population. A lot of people hated us for religious reasons or just on general principal. Things were very hard on the early twisted who had to deal with violence and discrimination on a normal basis, even after laws were passed to ensure their civil rights. Even now, twisted were often treated with suspicion and regarded as second-class citizens. Fortunately, my family and I live in the town of Spiral where we don't have to deal with those problems very much. Spiral had been founded by twisted, their families and people who were sympathetic to us as a place where we could be ourselves and be with others who understood our problems. Only a third of the people here were actually twisted or the children of twisted, but it wasn't uncommon for me to see my classmates going through drastic changes like Cindy did when she became Shiv. I frowned and turned my attention back to the teacher, thankful that class was almost over. I glanced at the clock and watched the hand move painfully slow. It seemed as though the class would never end so I could get to lunch. The moment the bell rang, I nearly yelled out, "Finally," as I launched myself towards the door. Just a few minutes later, I was sitting at my normal table in the lunch room with a plate full of mystery meat sandwich. Actually, I doubted that it had any real meat in it, but I was too hungry to care. I gobbled it down, not even stopping to say hi when my best friend Jeke sat down next to me. "How's it going?" Jeke asked me as he helped himself to one of my tater tots. "Same as always," I shrugged. "You?" "The same," he sighed, looking a little tired. "Ian?" I asked, referring to Jeke's stepbrother. Jeke wasn't twisted, but his step mom and stepbrother both were. In fact, Ian had only gone through his twist last week and Jeke was having a hard time dealing with it. "It's not fair," Jeke sighed again. "He's only twelve, but now he's taller than me. I'm sick and tired of him calling me shorty all the time. It gets old fast." "I know how you feel," I sighed, thinking of my sister Kim and how she'd changed with her twist last year. Jeke stared at me for a moment before nodding, "Yeah, it's too bad. Kim used to be pretty cool." I just nodded at that, then bent over and grinned, "So...did you bring it?" "Of course," Jeke grinned back, then reached into his book bag and pulled out a computer disk. He handed it to me and said, "Just don't let your folks catch you looking at it." "Don't worry about that," I told him. "Thanks." After I put the disk away, Jeke and I continued talking, sharing school gossip and complaining about nearly every aspect of our lives. We shared complains about parents, siblings, teachers, and just about everything else as we always did. I don't think that either of us had it too bad, but it was sort of an unwritten rule that we could never admit it. "Hey, did you see Sue Barton?" Jeke abruptly asked after awhile. "Damn, she's looking good now. I mean, her twist made her look hot as hell." "Sue's not twisted," I chuckled, having seen Sue just yesterday so knowing exactly what Jeke meant about her looking good. "For her it's just puberty and a makeover." "Really?" Jeke blinked in surprise. "There might be a little plastic surgery involved too," I admitted with a shrug. Jeke shook his head, having a hard time believing that Sue's drastic change from last year wasn't the result of being twisted. "Whatever it is," he said, "I like it." When lunch was over, I made my way to my next class which was history. I wasn't too excited about history, but it was certainly a lot better than English. Lately, we'd been learning about the Great Middle East War that was going on around the same time the Kinkaide Virus appeared. Of course, we already knew how that all ended, but it was kind of interesting to learn a little more about how it started in the first place. The rest of the day passed in a blur, partly because I napped through one of my classes, and almost before I knew it I was on my way home. I said a quick good-bye to Jeke then ran for home, eager to get away from the mind numbing boredom of school. About the only reason I bothered going there in the first place was that I could hang around with Jeke for part of the day. Well, that and the fact my folks would kick my ass if they caught me skipping again. While I was walking home, I found myself thinking about Shiv again. It wasn't that I was attracted to her or anything like that, but I couldn't help thinking about just how much her twist had changed her. It was like she was an entirely different person now. Of course, that was pretty common with the twisted. It was also why I was terrified of going through my own twist. I had absolutely no idea of who I would become or any control over it. "I hope my turn never comes," I spat vehemently. The degree and ways in which you changed varied from person to person, but sometimes they could get extremely drastic...and nasty. I knew a guy who'd been a straight A student and a great athlete until his twist when he suddenly turned into an overweight couch potato without the motivation to do anything. There used to be a girl in school who was real religious and something of a prude, until she twisted and turned into a completely uninhibited slut. The last thing I'd heard about her was that she'd been arrested for prostitution. And there was even a guy who'd lost all his conscience and inhibitions during his twist, becoming a serial killer afterwards. There were many stories like that, things that critics of the twisted loved to remind everyone of in order to point out how dangerous we were. "Please not like that," I prayed, shuddering as I imagined the worst possible results of a twist. The worst thing about being twisted was that not only could your body be completely transformed, but so could your very personality. I didn't like the idea of either happening to me. I didn't want to become someone else. Of course, I couldn't exactly explain that to my family since they'd already gone through it themselves and ended up fine. In fact, for most twisted, going through your twist was considered a right of passage. Until then, you were considered almost...incomplete. Everyone knew that you would be changing, so who you were until that point didn't matter as much. In spite of how it might appear, the changes weren't entirely random. Sure, the twists often come without any warning or cause, but they are frequently triggered by a specific event, usually something emotional or experienced for the first time. Scientists think that this is because the part of the brain that takes in new experiences might be linked to the part that influences the quantum field. I don't know much about that, only that a lot of times the specific twist a person goes through is related to what they were doing or what was going on around them at the time. Unfortunately, this can't really be controlled, though a lot of would be twisted like to try doing things that might intentionally trigger their twist in a way they want. As embarrassed as I am to admit it, I went though a period of time where I tried a lot of new sports in case that might trigger me to become more athletic. That kind of thing sometimes works, but not very often. Of course, there was a reason I was getting so worked up about going through my twist now when I knew it would eventually happen for most of my life. My sister Kim had gone through hers a year ago when she was sixteen. My dad had gone through his twist at the age of sixteen as well, while my mom had hers at fifteen. According to my family history, I was due for my twist. It could come at any time. "Well, I could come out of it as a total stud," I said, trying to think on the bright side. "And I might even get a really cool trick." I had to admit that there was one major perk to being twisted, and that was the tricks. A lot of twisted, in fact most, had at least one special trick they could perform. I didn't understand the physics behind it all, but they could tap into the quantum field that had twisted them and use it to do things outside of normal physics. It was like having magic or super powers, though we were discouraged from actually referring to them as 'powers' since that makes them sound dangerous and makes normals nervous. Instead, we were told to refer to these abilities as 'tricks', since that makes them seem more harmless and entertaining. "I hope I get a really good one," I muttered. When I finally got home, I went inside and found Kim hanging around the living room, glaring at me when she saw me come in. My sister looked the same as normal, with long black hair, a nose ring with a fine chain that went to one of the half dozen piercings in that one ear, a silver ring through her lip and another through her eyebrow. Kim had a stud through her tongue, and I was sure she had other piercings in places I didn't even want to know about. All in all, she was dressed in an old goth punk style that had recently started coming back into fashion for the antisocial. Kim and I used to be pretty close, but that was before her twist. Now I usually avoided her. From what I understood, she'd been getting her navel pierced when her twist triggered, giving her a fondness for piercings as well as a more antisocial personality. And I didn't know if it counted as a trick or not, but she didn't even feel any pain from getting new piercings. "Hey loser," Kim greeted me in the same way she had since her twist. I ignored Kim, as I usually did and hurried past her, almost running into my mom as I left the room. My mom was about 7 feet tall and bulging with more muscle than Mr. Universe at the moment, so I knew she'd just gotten back from the gym. Normally, she's 5 foot 11 and very athletic, but she had a trick that makes her grow to massive size whenever she really exerts herself by living weights. Within an hour, she'd be back to her normal size. "Do you have any homework for tonight?" my mom immediately asked, looking down at me with a scowl. I gulped, then shook my head, "Not tonight." Mom gave me a suspicious look, then said, "I can always have your dad ask you..." "Oh," I gulped again, "I guess I have a little..." "Then you'd better take care of that before you do anything else," she told me with a scowl. "I don't want you getting another report card like the last one." I nodded and promised to take care of it right away before I rushed to the safety of my room. I hated the fact that I could be intimidated by my mom like that, and it certainly didn't help when she threatened to throw me over her knee and give me a spanking, just like I was a little kid if I got such a bad report card again. The worst part was that she meant it too. It was hard to believe that she used to be short and scrawny when she was a kid, but that all changed with her twist. Now she was nearly obsessed with athletics and staying in shape. Then there was my dad, who was almost nothing like my mom. He used to play high school football, but other than that, he'd never been overly athletic. The only real odd thing about my dad that made him different from other dad's was that he didn't lie. To be more accurate, he couldn't lie. And the more he wanted to keep something a secret, the more he felt compelled to talk about it. Kim and I used to take advantage of that fact when we were kids, so my mom ended up buying all our Christmas and birthday presents herself and not telling him what they were giving us. Of course, my dad's inability to ever tell a lie could sometimes be pretty embarrassing for him, but he had a trick that made up for it. If he wanted, he could make other people around him tell only the truth as well. Because of this, the police used to hire him to hang around while they did interrogations or show up in court while witnesses were on the stand. However, that all ended about ten years ago when some judge ruled that any confessions gained this way were inadmissible in court. Now he usually uses that trick to make sure Kim and I couldn't get away with anything. That especially sucked when we were kids. Once I was alone in my room, I immediately went to work on my homework. I would have preferred to avoid it, or to at least put it off until later. However, there was a good chance my dad would ask if I'd done it and I wouldn't have a choice but to tell him the truth. I'd learned a long time ago that I couldn't fool my dad if he really wanted to know something. The trick was to keep him from suspecting anything so he wouldn't think to ask. I rushed through my homework as fast as I could, doing what my dad would call a 'half-assed' job of it. My goal wasn't to get everything perfect, but to just get it done and out of the way so I could move onto more interesting things, like that disk Jeke had given me during lunch. When I finished with my homework, I decided to hold off on the disk for a little longer. That way I'd have deniability and could honestly answer 'nothing' if my dad happened to ask me about what I'd been up to since getting home. Instead, I waited until dinner was over, then returned to my room and locked the door. Now I was clear to check it out. "Let's see," I mused, inserting the disk and waiting for it to load. A few seconds later, my entire computer screen was filled with images of very sexy and mostly very naked women in a variety of poses. The disk contained a large amount of such pictures, in fact, nearly the entire porn collection of Jeke's cousin Lewis. There was absolutely no doubt that my folks would be seriously pissed if they caught me with something like this in the house. I felt a little nervous as I looked at the pictures and I couldn't help glancing back at my bedroom to door to verify that it was indeed locked. I kept expecting someone to come in and catch me. However, I had to admit that there was a definite thrill to doing the forbidden. I took my time looking through the pictures, most of which were fairly soft-core so far. I was just a little disappointed at that, though I had noticed several folders that were given names like 'nasty' and 'extreme'. I figured that I'd probably work my way up to those ones eventually...if I had the nerve. I'd probably look eventually, just to satisfy my curiosity if nothing else. After I had looked through pictures of maybe two dozen incredibly hot looking girls, I suddenly felt the hairs on the back of my neck and arms stand on end, as though charged with a lot of static electricity. I immediately froze, feeling a, for lack of a better word, pressure building up around me. "Oh shit," I gasped, jumping to my feet in terror as I realized what was happening. Other people had described the exact same thing often enough that I immediately recognized the symptoms of going through my twist. I wasn't sure if I screamed or not because I suddenly felt as though I'd been struck by lightning. A massive surge of indescribable force ripped through me, burning into my body, mind, and soul...tearing and twisting at my very being. For an instant, reality itself felt as though it was bent to the breaking point and my entire existence was about to be erased. I was so overwhelmed that I couldn't think, nor was I aware of anything beyond the moment, except a vague sense of bright light and loud noise just before I collapsed to the floor. For several minutes, I lay motionless on the floor, unable to move or even think. It was as though someone had pushed a reset button inside of me, or as though I were a computer that had just been rebooted and was in the process of coming back online. Awareness of my surroundings returned first with self-awareness slowly following. "Blake," my dad's voice shouted from the other side of the door, "we heard a loud noise... What's going on?" When I didn't answer, he called for me again, this time more urgently. "Blake?" mom's voice appeared next, along with a loud pounding on the door. A minute later, they kicked the door in and rushed inside, stopping to stare at me in surprise. "He's had his twist," dad exclaimed, sounding both worried and excited at the same time. "Are you all right Blake?" mom asked, shaking my body. By this time I could wiggle my fingers a little but not much else. Fortunately they noticed this and took it as a good sign. "Let's move him to the bed." Once I'd been moved to my bed, mom and dad stood by and said a few comforting things. However, I could tell that they were both nervous and a bit uncomfortable. They were treating me almost like I was a stranger rather than their own son, but I supposed I was for the moment. They didn't know how much the twist might have changed my personality. Of course, I had absolutely no idea how I'd been changed either, and at the moment, I was feeling a little too emotionally numb to care much. "It's hard to believe this is Blake," dad said, then quickly left the room, perhaps worried that he might say some things that he shouldn't. Due to the nature of his twist, he didn't always have a lot a lot of tact or the ability to keep things to himself when he should. It had hurt my feelings a few times growing up, but I'd learned not to take his comments too personally. After all, he only said what everyone else just thought. "Everything will be all right," mom said, sounding as though she didn't quite believe it herself. "The worst of it is over. You've just got a new body that you need to adjust to is all." I just grunted at that, feeling a little pleased that I was able to do so. I didn't want to think about how I'd changed so focused instead on moving my hand. I was able to do it now, but it wasn't very easy. My ability to move was coming back at a frustratingly slow pace. It almost felt like I was having to learn how to move my body all over again, and perhaps I was. "So this is what the loser looks like now," Kim said as she strolled in and gave me a steady look. "Maybe he'll be more interesting now..." "Enough of that," mom glared at her and ushered her from the room. I couldn't see Kim anymore, but I could hear her telling mom, "I wasn't down anywhere near this long after my twist..." "But your twist wasn't physical like Blake's," mom pointed out in a cold voice. After Kim was gone, mom muttered, "Sometimes I really miss the old Kim..." It took more than half an hour before I had enough control over my body where I could sit up in bed and speak again. "A mirror," I said, my voice weak and sounding strange to my ears. I might be able to talk again, but it felt a little strange and clumsy. Mom only nodded and reached for a large hand mirror that she had apparently brought into my room when I wasn't paying attention, having known I would want to see myself. Before handing it to me, she hesitated and then cautioned, "You've changed a lot." When mom held the mirror in front of me so I could get a good look at myself, I stared into it silently. I was still too emotionally exhausted to get very excited, but I was still stunned to see a girl's face staring back at me. Specifically, it was the face of a very beautiful, even sexy looking sixteen year old girl. Further use of the mirror and mom's confirmation told me that the rest of my body matched my new face. I had become a girl. "I know it's quite a change," mom said cautiously. "It can take awhile to get used to yourself again after you get twisted so drastically." I didn't say anything to that at first, and when I finally did speak it was to ask mom, "Can you leave me alone for awhile..." I paused, licking my now full and kissable looking lips as I concentrated on forming the words clearly, "I think I want some privacy." "Of course," mom responded with a forced smile, leaving the mirror with me as she left my room and closed the door behind herself. I held the mirror up again, finding that I had to use both hands to keep it steady. My motor control and ability to move right still hadn't returned all the way. I stared at my reflection for several minutes, absorbing nearly every detail and nuance of my face. It was beautiful, somehow looking seductive. I noticed that my eyes were a little odd, with one of them being green while the other was an almost silvery gray. This was strange since I had brown eyes before this. And then there was my hair, which was now long and crimson colored with streets of a bright golden blond. "Distinctive," I said after a minute. I sat up a little more, which took a little effort, then looked down at my body straight on. I immediately noticed the breasts on my chest, clearly visible since my clothes seemed to have vanished during my twist. They were high on my chest, round and perfectly shaped. If I'd seen them on some girl, I would have said that she had the perfect rack. "I look like I could be one of the models on the disk," I said in slow realization, glancing over at my computer which now looked blackened and melted. It seems that having my twist right next to the computer wasn't very good for it. That wasn't exactly normal, but strange things were known to happen around people who were being twisted. But as I thought about exactly the kind of pictures I'd been looking at before this happened, I felt a sinking in my gut. My staring at those pictures was what had triggered my twist and probably caused my specific transformation. There was a saying among the twisted, though it was actually a warning that parents gave to their kids who would one day undergo their own twist. It was be careful what you do because it might become much more than just a habit. Like most kids, I'd just shrugged that off as another tool that parents tried using to control their kids. It was just too bad that I had to learn better after it was already too late. I put the mirror down and avoided looking at it for some time, until I felt strong enough to get up. I carefully dropped my feet over the edge of my bed and cautiously shifted my weight onto them. I felt wobbly and unbalanced, but I could stand again. It didn't take too much longer before I was able to slowly make my way around my room, as long as I had something to grab for balance. Once I was up and walking around, the rest of my mobility and control came back pretty fast. Within just a few minutes I was able to walk around without using anything to support me, as long as I took it slow and careful. Unfortunately, my balance was still off but that was due more to the fact that my entire body had been transformed and I wasn't used to my new balance yet. While I was walking around my room, I couldn't help noticing the charred spot on the carpet where I'd collapsed. There was even ash and tiny pieces of badly singed remnants of my clothing scattered about there as well, making me wonder what would have happened if I'd been touching someone else when it happened. I shuddered to think about it. Then again, I shuddered to think about a lot of things at the moment. It was more than obvious that the twist had drastically altered my body, but I was well aware that it could have changed more than that. I closed my eyes and tried taking a mental inventory, deciding that there weren't any obvious gaps in my memory and I didn't feel any sudden compulsions. As far as I could tell, my mind hadn't really been changed, but I couldn't really be certain just yet. "I guess it could have been worse," I said, trying to be positive which wasn't easy. Then I looked down at my transformed body and let out a long sigh, feeling a strange sense of relief. I wasn't very happy with how I had changed, but I couldn't help but feeling relieved that it was finally done and over with. I'd had my twist so now I wouldn't have to dread it coming anymore. I wouldn't have to stay awake at night, thinking about all the horrible things it could do to me. For good or bad, all those fears could finally be put to rest. "Now I just have to get used to this," I muttered, knowing that it would probably be much easier said than done. To say that I had strange dreams while I slept would be a vast understatement. They were filled with wild images and swirling masses of emotion which left me dizzy and confused, unsure if they were nightmares or something else entirely. And to make them even worse, I couldn't remember a thing about them when I woke up. The details slipped from my memory like fine grains of sand through my fingers. "What a night," I grumbled as I sat up in bed, shaking the remnants of my dreams from my mind since I was unable to recall anything about them beyond vague impressions. Once most of the cobwebs had been cleared from my head, I was immediately struck by the overwhelming feeling that something was seriously wrong. It took me several seconds before I remembered the events of last night and several more before I convinced myself that it hadn't just been some dream. I really had been twisted. "Just great," I grumbled, climbing out of bed and looking around for something to wear. As I'd discovered last night, none of my clothes really fit me anymore, nor was I conveniently the same size as Kim or mom. For one thing, I was bigger in the chest than either of them, which was a source of embarrassment for all three of us. Fortunately, the problem of clothes wasn't quite the problem I was making it out to be, at least not at the moment. I just grabbed the things I'd found to wear last night after my transformation, one of my old sweaters and a pair of mom's jogging suit pants. Add the fuzzy pink slippers Kim gave me, not having worn them in over a year, and I was ready to wander around the house. After I was dressed and presentable, I left my room and went down the hall to the bathroom. I grimaced as I reminded myself to sit down, knowing that it was going to take a while to get used to doing it this way. It felt like I was taking something simple and making it needlessly complicated, but that was a side effect of my new biology I would have to accept. "Yeah right," I muttered. I finished my business without making a big deal of it, trying to act as though I was just doing things like normal. Of course, from now on this probably would be normal for me, though I tried not to think about that too much. A few seconds later, I stood in front of the bathroom mirror as I washed my hands. I stared at my reflection, feeling strangely detached as I did so. I had a hard time associating the hot looking girl there with ME, at least emotionally. I suppose that might come in time. "If I had to turn into a girl," I mused, trying to remain positive, "at least I turned into a good looking one." As I stared at the girl in the mirror, I couldn't help but thinking how hot she'd look dressed up and posed like one of those girls on the disk. I knew that she'd look absolutely incredible in some skimpy bikini or something a little kinkier. Then I paused, remembering that those pictures were probably why I'd turned into this hot babe in the first place. On a sudden impulse, I stuck my tongue out at my reflection and then laughed. It was strange seeing this stranger mimic my actions so perfectly. I couldn't resist making a few more faces at the girl in the mirror, finding that it somehow made her seem less distant and a little more relatable. "Look at me," I shook my head with a sigh, "The next thing you know I'll be flirting with myself too." I stared in the mirror for just a few more seconds, then turned and left the bathroom, heading to the living room where the rest of my family was already up and gathered. Even Kim, who normally avoided spending too much time with the rest of us anymore sat there, waiting for my arrival with undisguised curiosity. "What do you feel like for breakfast?" my mom asked with a nervous smile. For a brief moment, I wondered what she was up to. After all, asking me what I wanted for breakfast was definitely not normal and her behavior was a little suspicious. Then I realized that this was a test. She was trying to see if I wanted the same thing as always or if my tastes might have changed. None of them were really sure how much my personality might have changed during my twist and they were carefully probing me to find out. "I'll just have a beer," I responded, earning a look of surprise from mom and one of interest from Kim. Then I grinned, "Just kidding... I'll just have my usual cereal." "At least your sense of humor hasn't changed," dad said, "I really don't know what to think of you looking like this... You look like some kind of..." "Well," mom interrupted, giving dad a bit of a glare, "I'll get your breakfast ready." "I'd better leave before I say something I really shouldn't," dad announced with a sigh. "It's okay," I told dad with a sigh. "I know what I look like." "Wicked hair," Kim nodded to me with a bit of a smirk. I instinctively raised my hand to touch my hair, realizing that it certainly did stand out. There weren't many people who had bright crimson hair, and then there were the golden blond streaks to make it standing out even more. "It's very distinctive," mom told me carefully, suddenly clamping a hand over dad's mouth at the same time and making me laugh. "Distinctive," I sighed. "Yeah..." We continued talking while I ate my breakfast, though the conversation was still a little careful as they continued to probe me for personality changes. By the time I finished eating, I was feeling a bit like a lab rat and wondered if every twisted had to go through the third degree like this. Since I was getting tired of this treatment, I decided to change the subject and announced, "I guess I've got a lot to do today." "What's that?" mom asked. "For one," I gestured down at the clothes I was wearing, "I think I'll need to get some clothes that will fit me." "Damn," dad winced as though realizing that for the first time. "That's going to get expensive. We'll probably have to skip our vacations this year..." "We'll manage dear," mom assured him, then said, "She is right you know. She'll need a whole new wardrobe, as well as other things." Just a minute later, mom was coming up with a list of everything she thought I would need now while dad complained about how much it would cost or how he didn't think I really needed it. Kim just sat there, looking half amused and half annoyed. I think she was a bit jealous over the fact that I was getting all this attention and she was virtually ignored at the moment, but she only made a few bitter and cynical comments, not nearly as much she might normally. "All right, it's settled then," mom announced, standing up and looking at the clock. "I'll take you shopping just as soon as I get back from my workout." "You think she'd be able to skip the gym for one day," Kim snorted. "You know she's nearly as likely to do that as dad is to tell a lie," I grinned at her. "I'm just glad she gave up on trying to drag us the fuck along." Kim grimaced while I nodded my agreement. Mom left the house a few minutes after this, nearly running out the door as she rushed to do her favorite activity...exercising. I sometimes wondered what she would have been like if she'd never been changed by the twist. Would she still be short and scrawny, or would she have started exercising on her own eventually? Of course, I wondered if it bothered her that she liked exercising only because she was twisted. Then again, I might as well ask Kim how she thought about being into piercings because of it too. "Thank God, Goddess or whoever that I didn't get an obsession like that," I muttered to myself. That kind of thing had been one of the big reasons I'd always been so terrified of going through my twist. "And this is another," I sighed, staring down at my changed body and shaking my head. I went to my room and began to undress, deciding to take another long look at my body, partly out of curiosity and partly because I thought it might help me get used to it faster. However, as I was beginning to do this I couldn't help but thinking that I might as well take care of some practical business while I was at it. Specifically, I really needed a shower and it would be a good idea to take care of it before my mom got back. A minute later, I was standing naked in the bathroom with the door locked behind me. I stood in front of the bathroom mirror again, this time taking in all the details of my body without clothing on. I had to admit that I felt a strange mixture of frustration and pride. Even though I didn't want to be a girl, I couldn't help but being pleased that at least I was a good looking one. "Hell," I muttered with a faint smirk, "I'm probably the hottest girl in my school now." But after a moment of consideration, I decided that there was no 'probably' about it. I was the hottest girl, or would be as soon as I went back. "Then again," I reminded myself of my odd colored hair and mixed eyes, "I'm also a little weird looking." I cupped my large breasts, thinking that they were heavy and felt massive. Of course, I knew that they weren't quite as large as they felt to me, but I wasn't used to having any weight on my chest like this. I also knew that I'd eventually get used to it because I wouldn't have much other choice. "Damn nice body," I sighed. "Tight, sexy and curvy. A totally killer babe." It was just too bad that this was all me. After several minutes of just continuing to stare at myself and examine my body, I decided to get on with it. I turned on the shower and climbed inside, gasping slightly as the water hit my breasts and revealed just how sensitive they now were. My whole body felt more sensitive than before, a fact that I hadn't really noticed until I started washing it. I wasn't sure whether to consider that a good thing or bad. While I was washing up, I couldn't help noticing some of the details of my new body, such as the fact that the top of my head wasn't the only place I had crimson colored hair. I didn't dwell on that though as I continued on and slowly examined the rest of my body to see what else I might find. I didn't really find anything though, not even a single scar, mole or major blemish. It was as though my skin was smooth, soft and perfect. I have to admit that I kind of enjoyed washing my body and getting a better feel for it, but washing my hair proved to be a pain in the ass. I have so much hair now that I had to use a lot of shampoo to lather it all, nearly half the bottle it seemed. And then since I had so much hair, that meant more time and effort scrubbing it. But as annoying as that was, it was nothing compared to drying my hair. I had so much hair that I tried drying it for five minutes with a towel and it still stayed a wet mess. It was only then that I remembered mom used a blow dryer to take care of hers and went in search of it. Once I was all clean and dried, I put my clothes back on again, wishing that I had some clean ones instead. However, I wasn't in any position to be picky at the moment. And since I couldn't very well go out in public with a pair of fluffy pink slippers, I put on several pairs of socks and then my old shoes which were now a little too large for me, though the extra socks did help with that. "No wonder it takes so long for girls to get ready in the morning," I muttered as I tugged my hair and sighed. I could only imagine how much worse it would have been if I was putting on makeup and the like. I didn't have to wait much longer before mom came home, having cut her workout short. She came through the door, six and a half feet tall with muscles like a body builder. This was actually fairly small compared to how she normally looked after a workout. "It felt pretty good," mom grinned, flexing one of her arms and smirking. "But I'll probably go ten miles tonight and hit the weights in the basement to make up for cutting my workout short." I stared up at mom, always feeling a little intimidated when she bulked up like this. That was why I was thankful she usually did her thing during the day while I was at school. Normally, by the time I got home she had already shrunk back to her normal size. "You might want to wait until you shrink back a bit before we go out," I told her. Mom looked down at herself and the workout clothes she normally wore when she went to the gym. They were not only oversized, but stretched pretty well for when she grew larger. Unfortunately, they weren't very stylish and she would want to wear something a little more normal while shopping. She nodded agreement at my suggestion then went back to her bedroom to get cleaned up while she waited. By the time mom was cleaned up, dressed and ready, she was back to her normal height of 5 foot 11. She gave me a careful looking over, then called out to dad and Kim that we were leaving. Dad just wished us luck and told us not to waste too much money on things we didn't need, while Kim had vanished to her room so may not even have heard. "So where to?" I asked mom as we got into the car. "The mall?" "No," she responded with a thoughtful look. "It's convenient having everything in one place, but to be honest, the prices there are a little higher than we need, especially when we're going to be buying a lot. Besides," she winked at me, "your dad would throw a fit if we spent a lot more than we needed to." "And he's not exactly good at hiding it when he's mad," I grinned. We arrived at a large department store a short while later and mom immediately went straight for the lingerie department. I felt more than a little awkward walking around the ladies underwear, especially when people kept staring at me. I wasn't even sure if they were staring at me because they thought I looked sexy or because of my odd clothes. I couldn't help but feeling even more self-conscious and embarrassed at that. "It's bad enough going out in public like this," I muttered, wishing that I could just turn invisible for awhile. "It's not that bad," mom told me. "Now we need to find your cup size..." A short time later I learned that I was a D cup bra size, but as mom warned me, "At your age you might still grow a little larger." "Just great," I muttered under my breath. Mom grabbed a few panties and bras that were in my size, but I was less than interested. They were plain white things, practical without being fancy. I had to keep from yawning and asking if we could go check out the sporting goods department, which would at least be more fun than this, not to mention less embarrassing. But as mom was looking at another pair for me, the saleswoman said, "How about these ones?" She gestured to a matching set of bra and panties that were all black and sort of lacy, making them look very sexy. "If I had your figure," she told me, "I'd definitely wear something like that. It would look so sexy on you." I stared at the pair of bra an panties she had shown me, not sure why but suddenly knowing that I wanted them. If I was going to be wearing girl's underwear, this was the kind I wanted to wear. I could just imagine how sexy it would look on my body. The thought was nearly enough to make me drool. "I want these ones," I told mom, who stared at me in surprise. "Are you sure?" mom asked skeptically, "They're a little more feminine than I thought you'd be willing to wear." I nodded, confused by what I was feeling but knowing that I had to have them. I wanted to wear those sexy things and see how they felt against my skin. I was almost getting a little turned on by the thought. "Yeah," I told her, then pointed to a similar pair in red just a short distance away. "And these ones too." Mom just continued to stare at me for several more seconds before picking up the black pair and saying, "Let's just get these ones for now, and if you like them we can see about getting more like this later." I felt a little disappointed but nodded my agreement. As the black bra and panties went into the cart, I felt a tiny surge of triumph, followed by one of confusion. I shook my head, still not sure why those things had caught my eye so much but feeling glad that we were going to get them. Next we went over to the shirts section where I began trying on various T shits and blouses, most of which bored me. However, shirts that caught my attention were the ones that showed my navel or revealed a bit of cleavage...the sexy ones that showed off my assets...the ones that I would have expected to avoid at all costs. I couldn't explain why, but these were the shirts that I wanted to wear, not the plain and boring ones that tried to hide my figure. Mom gave me an odd look the entire time, especially when I told her which ones I'd decided on, but she didn't say a word about my choice. After this we went to look at pants where I tried on some slacks and jeans, deciding that I really liked one tight pair that really showed off my ass. Then I saw a black mini-skirt that I knew would look awesome on me and grabbed it, "How about this?" For a moment, mom just stared at me again, then she cautiously said, "You know, no one would blame you if you dressed as a tomboy for awhile. There's no need to rush into wearing extremely feminine clothes..." "I know," I responded defensively, "but I like it..." I looked at the skirt and frowned slightly, knowing that I had a very attractive and sexy body, so it only made sense to wear sexy clothes and show it off a little. But even as I thought this, I couldn't help but realizing that I shouldn't be thinking like that at all. Knowing myself the way I did, I knew that I should be extremely uncomfortable with the idea of people staring at me and seeing my new body. I should be trying to wear boy clothes and cover up my new body out of shame, but that wasn't the way I felt at all. I was a little startled to realize that I actually wanted to look sexy and attractive. "Oh," I gulped in realization, "I guess I got twisted more than I realized..." This was one of the things that I'd feared most about being twisted, having my mind altered, my very likes and dislikes changed so that I was a stranger to myself. So far, I knew that my sense of fashion had been turned completely upside down from what it had been, but I had no idea what other changes awaited me. Would my favorite food now disgust me? Would I find my favorite movie completely boring and chick flicks exciting? I didn't know. I didn't even know who I was anymore. "It's okay," mom told me, putting a gentle hand on my shoulder. "I know it's confusing, but it will get better in time. You just have stop thinking about how things used to be and accept them as they are now. You can't take your old opinions for granted anymore." "Just great," I groaned with more than just a little bitterness. "Just think of it as a chance to try things over again for the first time and find new things that you may like." Mom gave me a sympathetic smile. "Before my twist, I never understood how anyone could enjoy exercising, but now I can't imagine not doing it every day. Trust me, before long it will be perfectly normal." All I could do was nod my head at that, knowing that she was right. After all, not only had she adjusted to a whole new perspective, but so had Kim. I might not like it, but it wasn't like I had much of a choice. We continued our search through the store for things I would need now, but I found myself second guessing my every thought and opinion. Whenever I saw something, I tried to think about what I thought and felt about it now compared to how I used to. For the most part though, I didn't really notice much difference other than in my taste of clothing. A few minutes later we hit the shoe department and I came away with a pair of tennis shoes, a pair of nice shoes with a slight heel, and a pair of high heels that I clutched possessively and had mixed feelings about. On one hand, I felt self-conscious and a little embarrassed to be buying them, but at the same time, I was eager to get home and learn to really walk in them. These strange new emotions of mine were enough to give me a migraine. Once we'd picked out most of the clothes I'd need, I went into one of the dressing rooms and changed into them. I felt much better now that I was dressed up in real clothes rather than the leftovers that happened to fit me. I also suddenly felt a lot more confident and less worried about people staring at me. In fact, I kind of hoped that they did stare. Mom examined me once I was through, nodding with an look of satisfaction. "Your hair could use a little work though," she said. "I suppose I can teach you about proper hair care when we get home and schedule you for an appointment at the salon..." Our next stop was to the jewelry department, where mom announced, "Every young lady should have at least one nice piece of jewelry, so consider this my present to celebrate your twist..." "Okay," I said less than enthusiastically, until I looked into the jewelry case and gasped. My normal reaction to jewelry was boredom and disinterest, but this time I suddenly found it more...interesting. I felt a tiny surge of excitement, especially as I thought of how much nicer I would look with some of that... "I can have one?" I looked up to mom, "Really?" Mom nodded while I just stood there, dazed and confused by my own emotions. What I was feeling was completely different from what I was expecting, from what I normally felt and largely thought that I should still feel. "It's okay," mom told me quietly, giving me an understanding look. "Let's get you a nice necklace. How about this beautiful pendant...? It's gold and has this little ruby in it so really goes with your hair." "Thanks mom," I told her as we walked away with the pendant just a few minutes later. I stared at it, admiring it's beauty though still being shaken by my own emotions. "This is pretty weird," I said, my voice quivering just a little. "I don't even know who I am anymore..." "You'll learn," mom assured me with a gentle smile. "Besides, I think that most of the old Blake is still there." "I hope so," I said, not at all convinced. "Let's go take a look at the makeup counter," mom suggested, watching me for my reaction and probing me like she had been at breakfast. "I need to pick up a few things." I just sighed and went with her, knowing from the way I'd reacted to the clothes and jewelry that I could probably expect to find myself interested in makeup from now on too. I was a little surprised to find myself still bored by the sight of all the various tubes and containers, though that changed a little when the sales woman started going about how she could 'enhance' my appearance. Once I started thinking about how makeup might be able to make me look even sexier, I found that my interest had been caught. Before I realized it, I was sitting in a chair while the sales woman gave me a free makeover, paying careful attention as she described everything she was doing and why. I was a little amazed at myself for being so curious and paying such close attention, but I was quickly learning that my interests were changing...whether I liked it or not. After the sales woman had applied foundation, mascara and light blush, she reached for the lipstick and mom gasped, "Crimson? Isn't that a little...?" "Daring?" the saleswoman responded with a grin. "Normally, but it goes perfect with this hair..." Mom looked a little skeptical, "Well, I guess it's better than that glow in the dark, neon stuff that I see so many girl's her age wearing these days..." "Or I could wear black lipstick like Kim?" I teased mom, looking into the mirror and deciding that I liked the look of the crimson lipstick, though it felt odd to wear and tasted strange. "But what about my nails?" I held my hands up and wiggled my fingernails. The sales woman giggled and reached for a bottle of crimson polish, "I'd better take care of that then..." By the time we left the department store, I looked and felt fantastic. I knew that I should feel ashamed at looking so feminine and sexy, that I should try to avoid any attention, but that wasn't at all how I felt. Being all dressed up and everything like this somehow filled me with a strange confidence. And when guys stared at me with looks of admiration and lust, I actually felt pleased by it. I was filled with conflict at this, knowing that it was completely against everything I should be feeling as a former boy, but I enjoyed the attention nonetheless. Mom watched me with a nervous expression, especially looking tense after a man about her own age walked past and gave me an appreciative look. For a brief moment, I could almost hear her thoughts as she wondered if she'd just created a monster. I was tempted to tease her a little, but after the amount of money she'd just spent on me, I thought she deserved a break. As we loaded all the bags into the car, mom told me, "Your dad is NOT going to be pleased by how much we spent." She shook her head and sighed, "Sometimes I really regret that he can't just lie and tell me that he doesn't mind." "That would be convenient," I grinned at her. "Well, I wasn't expecting to buy multiple pairs of shoes, makeup or the necklace when we came," mom chuckled. "So I have to admit that I spent a bit more than I was expecting to as well..." I felt a little guilty at that since all that money went to buying me things, so I told her, "I can get a job and help pay for some of this..." "Well, it wouldn't hurt for you to get a job," mom laughed. "But don't worry about this." When we got home a short time later, dad and Kim met us at the door, both of them staring at me with looks of stunned disbelief. But as fun as that was to watch, it was nothing compared to the strange colors dad turned when he saw just how many bags we had. Kim looked jealous, not having been given the same kind of treatment after her twist, but for her it was only her fashion sense that had changed, not her body. Before dad could make a big deal about how much we'd spent, mom went on the offensive. "I've decided that I'm going to start taking clients and be a personal trainer again," she stated, then quickly went on, "They've been asking me about it for awhile at the gym, and there are a lot of people who've come up to me and asked for my services..." It didn't take mom long to convince dad that once she went back to work it would really help cover the extra expenses of my twist, as well as a few other things. And by the time she was done talking, he may even have forgotten that he was going to get mad about the bill in the first place. While mom and dad were busy talking, Kim came up to me and looked me over, staring for nearly a minute before finally saying, "I didn't expect you to go all out like this." I blushed at that, then told her, "It seems that weird compulsions and stuff run in the family." "Fucking great," Kim snickered. "My loser brother's turned into my bimbo slut sister." Then she turned around and walked away snorting, "If nothing else, this'll be interesting." I just stared at Kim with a grimace, realizing that at least one thing hadn't changed. I was still annoyed as hell by Kim and her obnoxious attitude. If that had somehow changed in my twist, then I'd really know I was in big trouble. I looked over the outfit I was wearing, carefully making sure that everything was perfect. I was currently wearing a sexy red halter top that showed off my firm and flat stomach as well as a little cleavage, and a pair of tight jeans that really made my ass stand out. I would have preferred to wear the mini-skirt, but that was against the school dress code. I also would have preferred to wear my high heels, but even after practicing in them last night, I wasn't confident enough in my ability to keep my balance while wearing them for a full day in school, not when the price of falling on my face could be eternal ridicule. "You know that you don't have to go back to school today," mom told me with a nervous expression. "It's only been two days since you changed. You might want to get a little more used to your new self first..." "I'll be fine," I tried to assure her as I got ready for school. Dad took one look at me and scowled, "I don't think I like you going to school like that. You look far too sexy and boys are likely to get the wrong idea." "I'll be fine," I repeated with a roll of my eyes. "Most girls wear clothes like this if they have the body for it, and I certainly do. I can't wait to show off how hot I look now." I suddenly paused and bit my lip, glaring at my dad. I hadn't intended to say that but it had just come out on it's own, so it was obvious that dad was using his little trick on me. The thing that frustrated me the most about my dad was that since he was forced to tell everyone the truth all the time, he felt absolutely no guilt in making everyone else do the same for him. Mom and dad were both staring at me with looks of disapproval, but I continued, "Besides, I have to get back to school. We're having that big English test next week and I don't dare miss anymore class or I'll completely fail it." That last argument pacified my folks a bit, but my dad pushed a little more, "Have you thought about what your friends will think of you when they see you like that?" "Either that I'm a slut or a babe," I answered, still under the effects of dad's trick. "Depending on whether it's a girl or boy of course." That answer didn't make dad very happy but he could see that I was going to school whether he wanted me to or not, and I don't think that any parent could force their kid to stay home when they actually want to go. I think it's genetic or something. Once dad had given up and walked away in disgust, I turned to mom and hesitantly asked her, "Can you help me with makeup?" Mom stared at me in surprise, "Are you sure that you want to wear makeup on your first day back? What will your friends say?" I just blushed, feeling extremely awkward about making this kind of a request. It was difficult dealing with things that I felt and wanted, yet knowing at the same time that they were the exact opposite of how I felt before. It was even worse since a large part of me was sure that I should still feel that way and felt guilty when I didn't. "I know, but I want to look good." Mom sighed, "Okay, but we'll keep it light." We went to my room and pulled out all the makeup that we'd bought yesterday, then mom went to work on me, making sure I could see what she was doing in the mirror and describing each step. I paid close attention, still a bit shaken at the fact that I was taking makeup lessons from my mom. That was something that I would have NEVER expected in a million years. The makeup was a little lighter than what the sales woman had put on yesterday, but still enough for me to tell it was there. "What about the lipstick?" I asked when mom seemed to be done, having missed that obvious bit. "I don't think you need crimson lipstick to go to school," she said, looking a little uncomfortable. But as she stared at me, she sighed, "I guess it does go with your hair, nails and outfit." She frowned, then reluctantly put it on. "You'll have to learn how to do this yourself soon." "Thanks," I told her once we were done. "But I think I should get going before dad sees me like this." "I think you're right." She shook her head. After I'd picked up my bag, she said, "Hold on, I'll drive you today. I don't like the idea of you walking by yourself when you look like that." I wasn't sure that I liked the idea of having my mom drive me to school, but it was better than walking. And even though I didn't really want to admit it, I was nervous as hell and her presence was a bit comforting. Once we were in the car and pulling out of the driveway, mom hesitantly said, "I think you should start taking a self-defense class." "What?" I blinked in surprise. "The gym offers a good one," she quickly added. "And with the way you look now, I think it would be a good idea for you." Then she sighed, "Some boys could get the wrong idea..." "I know how boys think," I reminded her with a grimace, and because I knew how some guys at school could get, I sighed, "I'll think about it." That seemed good enough for mom, at least for the moment because she let the subject drop. When we arrived at my school a few minutes later, she pulled into the parking lot, gave me some worried advice for my first day back and wished me luck. Then as she left, I turned and made my way into the front entrance, well aware of all the eyes that were watching me. I couldn't help feeling a faint tingle of excitement and pleasure in response. "Jeez," I muttered to myself, feeling a bit embarrassed at my own emotions. "It's like I'm turning into some kind of attention whore." As I walked through the school hallway, I noticed most of the boys who saw me were staring with looks of interest and attraction, while a number of girls glared or were too obvious in pretending that they didn't see me. There were also more than a few looks of curiosity as no one at the school would remember seeing me there before. A large part of my new self absolutely loved all this attention and I found myself instinctively sticking out my chest and strutting a bit more in response, while the old me sort of cringed in embarrassment and confusion, wondering what everyone would say if they knew who I really was. Several boys and one girl called out as I passed, asking me for a date or if I was taken. As much as a large part of me was enjoying all this attention, I didn't really know what to do with it all. Then one of the guys had the courage to actually approach me, standing in my way so I would have to stop for him. "Hey, you're gorgeous," the tall and athletic jock grinned at me. "I'm Devon. Let me welcome you to our school." I just stared at Devon, knowing very well who he was. After all, he's the same guy who'd punched me in the gut last year just because I said something he didn't like. He hadn't hit me since then, though he'd made more than a few rude comments whenever he saw me. "No thanks," I told him with a scowl. "I'm not new here and I'm already more than aware you're an asshole." There were a lot of laughs and joking comments at that from the people around us while Devon just stared at me with a look of annoyance and embarrassment. Then I walked around him and hurried to my first period class, wondering just how much more of this I could expect during the day. Once I reached my first period class, I took a deep breath and went inside, noticing that nearly all conversation stopped at my entrance. I pretended not to notice or care as I made my way to my own seat, earning even more curious looks as a result. Finally, the teacher Mr. Byron said, "Excuse me young lady, but I believe you have the wrong class." "No, I'm in the right class," I told him with a self-conscious sigh. "I'm Blake... I just went through my twist." Everyone in the class gasped at once and several of the boys who'd been giving me such admiring looks now appeared disgusted or horrified. A few girls sat there with smug looks on their faces, smirking at me and the boys who had been so openly lusting at me. And then there was Jeke, who was sitting in the seat beside me, staring at me in stunned disbelief, looking as though he wasn't sure to be horrified or not. "Blake?" he gasped, his eyes wide as he stared at me with an intensity that almost made me think his eyes would pop out of their sockets. "That's what I said," I told him, trying to smile and act like everything was fine. "By the way...my eyes are still up here." "Class," Mr. Byron called out, trying to get everyone under control again. "Everyone sit down and pay attention. I'm sure that you'll have time to talk to Mr...Ms. Tyler about her twist after class." It took Mr. Byron a few more minutes to get everyone settled so he could start the class. By then, everyone had gotten over their initial shock of me, though I still kept getting odd and curious looks. Still, it would have been much worse if I'd gone through a twist somewhere else. As it was, there were already three other people in that class who'd been twisted, and at least one more who was still waiting for hers. I felt a little awkward sitting in class as I was, especially because Mr. Byron and the other students all kept sneaking looks at me. One boy even waved at me as he tried to catch my attention and I had to fight back the sudden impulse to wave back. As much as I might like and even crave attention now, I had to remind myself that class was not the time for it. In fact, class was the best time to avoid attention. I tried to ignore the strange looks, deciding that I MUCH preferred the looks of admiration and attraction. To distract myself from them, I focused instead on Mr. Byron's lecture, something which I usually didn't pay too much attention to due to the high boredom factor. After a while, I was a little surprised to realize that he must be doing something different to spice it up today because he was actually fairl