A.R.S. - Dampened Spirit free porn video

A RELUCTANT SPIRIT: DAMPENED SPIRITS By Ingrid Halb "So let me see if I understand this correctly. Essentially, you are a genie." Hank was starting to believe the little man might be for real after all. "Essentially," nodded the three-foot tall chubby man that stood in front of him. "And you will grant my every wish, provided it follows the proper format?" Hank asked skeptically. "Technically I just enable the magic that grants the wish. Saying I grant it sounds like I control the outcome, something which I have warned you already, I definitely do not do. One of the reasons I urge you to forget about wishes and forget you ever saw me." The little man implored but Hank was already thinking of possibilities here. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. But as long as my wish contains an object, an action, and a time reference, it will be granted, right?" said Hank almost dismissively. "Yes," the little man admitted reluctantly. "But you may not like how it gets granted." "Okay, you've warned me and I will be careful. Don't distract me now. I'm trying to make sure I understand all the parameters here." Hank was thinking hard. This was the chance of a lifetime. No, it was more than that. This was unique. This was a chance to regain lost opportunities, the ultimate do-over. He knew he would have to be careful but he knew he could not pass this by. "I also get up to three qualifiers per wish, with a qualifier being defined as anything added to a wish that if left off would still leave a properly formatted wish, like an adjective would." Hank was checking all the facts for possible traps and loopholes. "An adjective can be considered a qualifier," the little man agreed. "And the way that most of your previous grantees got into trouble was that they messed up the time reference, or forgot to allow for the magical energy to regenerate, or they just got careless with their choice of words," Hank summarized the long string of warnings the little man had given him. "They got in trouble because they made wishes!" insisted the little man. "You have no idea how tricky they can be. Magic never turns out like you would expect and no good comes from messing with it." "Relax," smiled a confidant Hank. "That just means I got to wish for things that are good no matter what." "There is no such wish," the little man spat out. "Give it a rest," Hank said rolling his eyes. "If you think I'm turning down a chance like this, you're dumber than you think I am." "Just remember you were warned," the little man said wagging his finger at Hank. "Sheesh, already. Now let's see, what shall I wish for?" Hank stood tapping his finger against his chin in thought. "I think I'd like to be a professional athlete. No wait! An Olympic athlete! Yeah! That's it. I want to be a little younger too. So I need a time reference that pegs me to being a little younger. How can I word that? I wish... I wish I had the body and skills necessary to be a champion at each of the next three Olympic Games." "As you wish," the little man intoned formally. ..... "That's it? Nothings happening," Hank complained. "Be patient," urged the little man. "You wished for some dramatic changes. The magic is flowing. It's just going to take a minute or two to kick in." Hank was going to say something but he was interrupted by a ripple passing through his entire apartment and a small shudder passing through his body. "Hey! I felt that!" he said. "The room just tilted. Now it's getting fuzzy. What's happening to my room?" "The magic is setting the stage for your transformation," the little man explained carefully. "Obviously, as a young athlete you wouldn't be living in this shabby apartment all alone." "I didn't think about that," Hank said thoughtfully. "I'd kind of hate losing all my stuff. What kind of place do you think this is becoming?" "I don't know," the little man answered. "It's big though. Those look like bleachers." "Hey, you're right," Hank agreed. "I bet this is a gym. Does that mean that I'm going to be a gymnast?" "I don't think so," the little man said. "I think this is going to be a pool. That looks like water in a pool forming up in the middle." "A pool?" Hank said thoughtfully. "Okay, so I'll be a swimmer. Swimmers are cool. Hey, wait a minute. This is a high school! What am I doing in a high school pool?!" "Springdale Valley High Wild Cats/Lady Cats," the little man read off the banner appearing over the bleachers. "Yup, this is a high school alright. Well, what did you expect? You did wish to be competing in the next three Olympics. That's a time span of twelve to sixteen years. You'd have to start pretty young to cover that span." "I guess you're right. But damn, high school again?" Hank asked uncertainly. "Looks like the swim team are starting to form up in this reality," the little man said pointing toward the shadowy amorphous forms around the pool. "Excuse me, swim teams. Looks like the guys' team are just arriving and the girls are getting ready to hit the showers." It soon became apparent that the little man was right. The individual details of the coalescing forms were becoming distinct. Hank gave the girls' team a long look over, admiring a few of the swimmers in particular. "Oh, yeah! There's some fine young pussy on these Lady Cats!" he leered. It might not be so bad being back in high school after all." The little man had been studying the flow of magical energy lines around the pool and around Hank when Hank's lechery caught his attention. "I think you may be having a slightly different point of view on that in just a minute," he said. "What do you mean?" Hank asked. "Let's just say that I think I see where this wish is heading," the little man added cryptically. Hank was about to ask what the little man to explain that last remark too, but was interrupted by a ripple passing through his body, causing him to visibly shudder. "Oooh, wow!" Hank said, shaking his head. "That felt strange. Hey, I'm wearing a swim cap. And my clothes are shrinking up on me." Hank's clothes were indeed shrinking up on him as well as becoming more form-fitting. His shirt had fused to his pants and his belt and shoes had disappeared. Hank stood there barefoot as his sleeves and pant legs began creeping up his limbs. The little man studied the magical lines around Hank for a while without saying anything. "The magic is starting to shape you to this reality," he finally said. "Your clothes should change into a swimsuit in just another moment." Hank felt the material of his suit. "Yeah the material's changing all right. "It looks like this is going to be one of those full body suits that the Olympic athletes use," he noted. "No, I do believe it's just a regular swimsuit," the little man stated. "You're crazy!" Hank disagreed. "Look it goes up over my chest and over my shoulders." Something about the size of the people materializing around him was bothersome. "Jesus, these kids are tall," he said. "I'm like the shortest guy here. Isn't that going to affect my ability to compete?" "It shouldn't," the little man said simply. "Are you sure?" Hank asked. "I mean even half the girls are taller than me." The little man didn't answer and just continued to study the air around Hank. "Oooh, Ah, Yow!" 'Hank' exclaimed as a particular strong ripple caused a gut-wrenching shudder through him. "That was a strong one!" 'Hank' said in a noticeably higher pitched voice. "That should be the worst one," the little man said consolingly. "The magic is almost ready to slip you into this reality." "That's good," a much shaken 'Hank' said. "I don't want to go through that too many times. Damn, this suit's riding up my ass. Is it supposed to go so high up my thighs?" 'Hank' said pulling at the material. "Hey look, you can tell I'm a swimmer. My legs are shaved," 'Hank' said pointing. "Yes. Yes they are," the little man said without further comment. "Why is this suit wet already if the boys' team just got here?" 'Hank' asked noting the puddle of water. "I suppose we are supposed to shower first." Disturbingly, the puddle seemed to lead from the pool rather than from the shower area where the boys were emerging. Speaking of the boys, something about them bothered 'Hank' too. "Hey, they're all wearing just regular Speedo swim trunks. Why am I wearing this full body thing?" 'Hank' asked in growing confusion. "And why are they all over on that end of the pool while I'm over here with the girls' team by the girls' coach?" Nothing seemed to make sense to 'Hank'. The swimsuit seemed all wrong yet was familiar too. It showed way too much thigh and seemed to cover only half of the buttocks. Why did the back plunge so far while the front of it covered the entire chest? 'Hank' had seen this kind of suit before on someone. It was disturbing. Especially the way the chest seemed to rise with each breath but not go back all the way down again. "Holy crap! I'm a girl!" 'Hank' exclaimed. "I'm afraid so," the little man confirmed. "How?! Why?! How!?!" she stuttered. "Well 'how' is magic and 'why'? Who knows?" the little man shrugged his shoulders as he answered. "Magic just chooses an easy path. Since you never specified either sex, as good an answer as any would be 'why not?'." "But I can't be a girl!" 'Hank' nearly shouted as she tried to push her growing breasts back down. "Judging by the way you're starting to fill out the top of that swimsuit and the way you don't fill out that crotch, I'd say there's a pretty darn good chance that you can be a girl," the little man pointed out. "Change me back! You need to change me back right now!" 'Hank' gave up pushing down on her breasts. The feelings that gave her were too disturbing. "Even if that was a proper wish, there's nothing I can do until tomorrow. So relax, get a good night's sleep, and then we'll talk," the little man explained. "I would however, like to suggest you learn to adapt to this new life of yours and not make any more wishes." "What!!" she exclaimed. "No! Hell, no!" "Look, it really can get a lot worse," the little man was clearly lecturing at this point. "This isn't so bad, believe me. Now the magic is about to place you into this reality and you don't want to be seen talking to me when that happens. So go hit the showers with the rest of your team. It is 7:00 AM now; you'll need to get dressed and ready for the day's classes. I'll talk to you again in the morning." "Showers? Dressed? Classes?" 'Hank' repeated meaninglessly. "We'll talk in the morning," the little man repeated. "Meanwhile, think about it." With that he disappeared. 'Hank' still looked quite shocked and confused. But the coach had just finished talking and the team headed off to the showers. She had little choice but to pad off on bare feet behind the rest of the girls into the shower and changing room areas. _____ o _____ The little man was used to changes in who possessed him and so was never surprised to find himself appearing in new places. This was clearly a girl's bedroom and he was currently standing on the foot of the bed in front of the teenaged girl to whom it apparently belonged. She had shoulder-length red hair and was sitting cross-legged on the bed in from of him leaning her back against the pillows. "Good evening, Miss. It's a pleasure to meet your acquaintance." He bowed then started his spiel. "I am the spirit that manifests when you..." "Stuff it, genie boy. It's me," she interrupted. "Oh, hey. Hi there. I didn't recognize you without the swim gear on." The little man was initially rattled but rapidly regained his composure. "This is a nice look, though," he added lamely. "I look like a girl," she sneered. "That my dear, is because you are a girl," the little man said stating the obvious. "You have no idea," she said shaking her head. "Do you know what your magic has done to me? Who I've become? Do you?" she demanded. The little man took the question quite literally and switched to lecture mode. "Well, let us see," he said studying the magical lines intently. "You are Heather McCullough, 16 year old freshman star of the Springdale Valley High Lady Cats swim team. Your parents are Mark and Sandy McCullough and you live at..." "Stop it!" Heather interrupted. "I know all that. Don't ask me how I know all that, but I know all that. What I meant was do you have any idea what I have gone through over the last day and a half?" "Uh, no," the little man admitted. "The lines of magical energy don't really tell the past. They just tell me what currently 'is'." "Well let me clue you in, then," Heather stabbing a painted fingernail at the little man's chest. "After our little talk, I followed the team into the changing room. The "girls'" changing room, where somehow I knew which locker was mine. Do you know what I found inside "my" locker?" "No?" the little man said, making it sound more like a question than an answer. "I'll tell you what I found in "my" locker," she continued. "There was a towel, a hair dryer, a change of clothes, and about a million soaps, shampoos, conditioners, moisturizers, cleansers, cosmetics, and several feminine hygiene products." "At least you were prepared," the little man offered. "Prepared? Prepared, you say?" Heather said raising her eyebrows in mock surprise before leaning forward menacingly. "There is no way in hell that could have prepared me for taking off my swim cap and finding out that I now had shoulder-length red hair, or taking off my swimsuit and finding out that I'm a natural red head." "Admittedly, that would have seemed somewhat bizarre given your recent transformation," he said. "No," she corrected. "Bizarre is taking a communal shower with the twelve members of a high school girls' swim team and realizing that if you weren't there, it would be eleven! Bizarre is drying your hair and putting on makeup while your best friend "Kelly" tells you about the hot date she had last weekend!" "That doesn't sound too bad," the little man tried inject a lighter tone into the conversation. "That was just the start!" Heather shouted. "Do you remember that change of clothes I had? The only ones I had to wear to school that day? Apparently "Heather" and "Kelly" had decided to wear skirts to school that day. Nice short ones, too. With heels no less. After all, why wear a short skirt if you're not going to wear high heels to help show off your legs?" "I'm sure you looked nice," the little man said. "I looked too damned nice!" she glowered. "I spent a whole day, going from class to class, with a school full of horny teenage boys ogling my legs. I've never been so self-conscious in my whole life." "Okay, so it was embarrassing. Big deal!" he countered, still trying to think of some way of avoiding another wish. "There is nothing that says you'll have to wear skirts ever again, if you don't want to. What you have on right now looks comfortable." "These are hip-hugger jeans with no pockets, and a t-shirt that shows off my bellybutton. It is anything but comfortable," Heather said pointedly. The little man was confused by this. "Why did you put them on if you don't like them?" he asked. "It was the least feminine outfit in my closet," she admitted. "You look nice," he offered. "I'm wearing a bra," she said making it sound like an accusation. "Yeah, that's probably going to be necessary from now on," the little man conceded. "Don't tell me it's necessary!" snapped Heather. "I know it's freaking necessary. I just want to hurry up and wish things so that it's not freaking necessary!" "If you feel that strongly about it, why did you wait until now before calling me?" the little man asked. "I mean, it's past 8:00 PM already. You've been a girl for over 37 hours now. You could have called me first thing in the morning." "Apparently," Heather sighed holding her head with both hands, "my Mother is really supportive of her little girl's athletic career. She made sure I was up and ready to go to the pool for morning swim practice. So I had to go through that whole scene in the changing room again, twice, before yet another day of school where I was yet again ogled at and hit on by horny teenaged boys and even hornier pervert teachers. This is the first time I've been alone all day!" "You do seem to lead a very busy life," the little man observed. "Shut up!" Heather said. "We need to talk about how I'm getting out of this. The team's leaving for a two-day swim meet tomorrow after school and I am not getting on that bus if I can help it. What exactly did my wish commit me to? How much can I change?" "Everything is changeable, as long as it still agrees with the wording of the initial wish," the little man lectured. "Still, magic is not strictly reversible in the sense that one cannot go directly to the exact conditions existing prior to when the magic began. It isn't stable. You need to take sneaky steps to get back to where you started. And of course, anything specifically covered by the time reference is locked in for the duration specified." "Okay, so where does that leave me?" Heather asked. "I wished to be young again. Do I have to stay a girl until I'm old?" "Is it so bad?" he asked in an imploring tone. "You're young and talented. You have a future as an athlete. Wishes have a tendency to screw things up. Can't you just forget you ever saw me and leave well enough alone?" "Listen you pin-headed half-pint!" she yelled. "I have shoulder-length red hair and pierced ears. I wear makeup and have long painted nails. I have a closet full of skirts and dresses and a drawer full of bras and panties. I have boobs and a pussy. Guys want to do me. I'm a freaking girl! No, I can't leave well enough alone! Now answer the freaking question! Do I have to stay a girl until I'm old?" "Technically, no," the little man admitted. "You never specified your gender or sport. So theoretically, those things are changeable without problems. Your age is partially locked in by the time reference, though. You had wished to be able to win at each of the next three Olympic Games. That's like twelve to sixteen years. When are the next Olympics anyway?" "Who cares, keep going," Heather demanded. "Uh, anyway," the little man continued. "You could alter your age a bit by changing your sport. For instance, you could make yourself older if you changed your sport to something like archery or younger if you wanted to be on the women's gymnastics team." "I don't want to be on the women's anything team. In fact, I'm turned off to the whole Olympic athlete thing right now," she said. "I don't actually have to be an athlete, do I? I just have to have the body and skills necessary to be one if I wanted to be one, right?" "That's splitting hairs a bit, but essentially correct," the little man nodded. "But I'm pretty well stuck at being in high school," Heather observed. "Oh well, I guess I could live with that if I had to. I think I know what I'm going to wish for." "Please don't," the little man urged. "It never really works out. You're a very pretty girl. You could learn to be happy with it." "Get bent!" she hissed. "I'm going to wish for just one thing so that nothing goes wrong. I wish to be made a male at once, and just screw that whole me being an athlete thing." "As you wish," the little man intoned solemnly, and both he and Heather sat back to wait. ..... "What's taking so long?" she asked impatiently. Normally the little man would have chided her for impatience but the truth was that it was taking longer than it should have. It seemed like the magic was struggling to find a path that matched the pattern of the wish. He studied the flow of magical lines closely before answering. "I'm not sure," he finally answered. "It almost looks like something blocked the magic from following an easy route and now it has to travel a more convoluted pathway." A small ripple passed through the room but the bedroom continued to remain solid. "So the magic's moving, right?" Heather asked impatiently. "Why is my room not changing? This still looks like a girl's room." The little man rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Look, I really don't know what's happening either," he said. "Maybe it didn't... Oh, wait. There's something changing now." The little man was pointing at an amorphous shape that had appeared on the bed almost beside Heather. As they both watched, the shape began to solidify and rapidly became recognizable as a handsomely built teenaged boy with blonde hair and deep blue eyes. "Who the hell is that?" Heather yelled pointing. "I don't know," the little man said, somewhat irritated. "Calm down and let me check the lines of magical energy. Ah hah! Well that certainly explains things." "What does?" Heather asked, still impatient. "Apparently," the little man said, studying the air around Heather, "he's the male that's being made for you." "What?" she asked not quite sure she heard him correctly. "You wished to be made a male. He's the male that's being made," he explained. "What?!" she asked again still not sure of what she heard. "Yes," he said slipping into lecture mode. "I see that the easy way would have been to just turn you into a male. Something about the way you worded your wish made it easier to create a male out of nothing." "I don't understand. What went wrong?" Heather asked. "It's a little hard to tell. The magic is still settling," the little man examined Heather and the emerging form closely. "Oh, yes. I guess that does make sense," he finally said. "What does?" Heather asked. "I think I know what went wrong and what the magic is doing," he said. "Tell me," she said, getting impatient with the little man. "You're not going to like it. Or rather, you are going to like it," he corrected, "but you're not going to like it that you like it." "Will you quit babbling and tell me what's going on," Heather said, having had just about enough of this nonsense. "This person being created," the little man said, pointing to the solidifying form, "is Frank Harding. And he is being created for the specific purpose of having sex with you." "WHATT!!!" she yelled, jumping back from both the little man and the materializing shape now known as Frank Harding. "Yup," nodded the little man. "When you wished 'to just screw the whole you being an athlete thing', the magic created Frank here to do the screwing." Heather looked in horror at the young lad appearing beside her. "That was never part of the wish!" she insisted, her voice breaking slightly. "Then you shouldn't have said it while you were making a wish," the little man explained. "It makes sense, really. If the magic had made you male, you couldn't be screwed. You could have screwed someone else but you wouldn't have been able to be screwed. So when you wished to 'screw you being an athlete', the magic had to keep you female and created Frank here to do the screwing. It's quite an elegant solution, really. I told you words were important." The little man was clearly enthralled at the intricacies of this particular turn of magic. Heather wanted nothing further to do with it. "I won't do it!" she shouted. "I refuse to do it! I'll run away! I'll... I'll scream rape! You can't make me do it!" "I'm afraid you're magically locked in," he answered in a very consoling tone of voice. "In just a few more moments he's going to phase into this reality and you two are going to bump like bunnies until he manages to screw the 'whole' you." Heather just sat there in shock. Her jaw was moving up and down but with no words coming out of her mouth. "Anyway," the little man continued, "I'll leave you two kids alone to have some fun and you can check back with me in the morning." With that he disappeared, leaving Heather alone with Frank. "No, wait! He... I... Is that...? Oh, God! Umm..." her last words were cut short as Frank leaned forward pressing his lips against her mouth and his hand on to her breast. _____ o _____ "Heather! It's good to see you again," the little man said, genuinely pleased at seeing the girl sitting demurely on the edge of her bed. "It had been so long that I had halfway thought that you'd given up on making more wishes." "I guess it has been a few days," she said, wringing her hands in her lap and not making direct eye contact. "It's been three weeks," he said. "Three weeks?" she asked. Heather seemed startled by the fact. "Yes," he said, somewhat concerned about Heather's state of mind. "How did the swim meet go?" he asked trying to keep things simple and non- threatening. "What? Oh, ah, really good," she said getting her bearings on familiar ground. "I got two firsts and a second in the individuals and I got a third in the relays. Our school won. Well, the girls' team did. The boys came in fourth. They announced it over the intercom and everything. It was really neat." "Congratulations! I'm glad you did well," he said, somewhat relieved that she seemed calmer at least while talking about swimming. "Yeah, thanks," she said, nervously twirling a lock of hair. "I broke the school record for the butterfly." "Did you? Well again, congratulations," he repeated. "You're looking well. That's a very petty dress you have on. It's kind of short though isn't it? Don't get me wrong, you look lovely in it, but I wouldn't have expected you to wear something so feminine so soon after your transformation." "That's kind of the problem," she said blushing. "It's not me, it's Frank. He likes me in short skirts and dresses. I never wear pants anymore." She pulled self-consciously at her hemline. "He doesn't force you, does he?" the little man asked. "No, it's not like that. It's like... Oh, God. This is so embarrassing," Heather blushed deeper then hid her face in her hands for a moment. After a moment, she looked back up at the little man. "I can't get enough of him," she admitted quietly. "We've had sex every day since we met. Sometimes three or four times a day. I can't say no to him." "I don't understand," the little man said. "There shouldn't have been any more magical compulsion after the first time." Heather blushed even deeper before answering. "There wasn't," she admitted. "I mean, there was compulsion that first time. There was no way I would have touched him that first time if the magic didn't make me. In my head, I was still a man. It was the magic that made me kiss and stroke him. But, oh man... That first time... The things he can do with his hands! He had me gasping for air. He knew what, where, and when to touch me. My mind fought it, but not for long. I was moaning for it before he even got it out of his pants, and I was screaming for it by the time we finished. It's like he can hit every one of my spots anytime he wants to. It's almost like perfect sex." "I guess that does make sense," the little man said. "After all, he was created specifically for the purpose of screwing you wholly. It's small wonder then that he does it really well." "Oh baby, that he does! Believe me," Heather said, growing more comfortable talking with the little man about this topic. "We did it two more times that first night. The third time, I was riding him! No compulsions, I just wanted to. Ever since then, I can't seem to do without him." "So you're having great sex on a regular basis," he summarized. "I'm afraid I don't see what the problem is." "The problem," she said shyly, "is that I'm becoming his girlfriend." "I thought you already were his girlfriend?" he said scratching his head. "No, you don't understand," Heather said. "I'm becoming more and more his girl friend. Every time he touches me, I just want to melt into his arms. And every time we do it, makes me a little softer and a little gentler. I spend most of my day thinking of ways to make him happy. I put on makeup and jewelry trying to make myself pretty for him. I pick out my clothes by asking myself which I think he would like to see me in. A couple of days after we first did it, he mentioned that he liked the way my legs look in a skirt. I haven't worn pants since. He's making me more of a girl than your magic ever did." The little man could tell she was upset so he let the remark about it being his magic slide. Still, he did want to avoid any more wishes being made and so tried again to convince Heather that things weren't so bad. "You do realize," he started, "that physically you are a girl and that becoming one mentally would probably be a very healthy thing for you to do." "Oh but you don't realize how bad it gets," Heather implored. "He's got me so sex-happy that I'm walking around in a cloud with a big dreamy smile on my face. I'm becoming a total ditz." The little man didn't know what to say at that point and so said nothing. Heather continued after awhile. "If I stay like this any longer I will go over the edge and give up. I'll be a girl for real and won't care." She had been speaking softly, almost as if she was talking only to herself. She turned directly to face the little man and spoke with resolve, "If I don't change back now, I never will." "What about Frank?" the little man asked. "I... I don't know. I don't want to lose him. I definitely don't want to lose that intense sex life. I mean, when he lights me up I go off like a roman candle." A faint smile crossed Heather's face at the memory. She did manage to shake it off before reaffirming, "But I have to become a man again!" "What are you thinking of doing?" he asked, still searching for some way to avoid her making another wish. "The one thing I can think of that will keep us together and still saves me," she said looking squarely at the little man. "I'm going to switch bodies with Frank." The little man thought for a moment before pointing out the obvious flaw in her plan. "Won't Frank become upset when he finds out he's become a girl?" he asked. "Believe me, after a month of being me, he won't care," she said flippantly. Her expression softened though as she thought it over. "Then again, I should wish it easier on him. I'm also not that keen on remembering being a girl," she said thoughtfully, looking her body over as she did. The little man could tell a wish was coming, but had to try one last time to change Heather's mind. "Are you sure you won't reconsider?" he said. "I mean you're almost fully conditioned to being a girl now. And wishes never go the way you think they will. Besides, you said it yourself, in a little while you won't care anyway." "I have to do this," she said firmly. "You'll give up being an athlete," he pointed out. "I don't care," she said with resolve. "I wish to exchange bodies with Frank at once, right now! And with the following added qualifiers; that I am to maintain the same level of sexual satisfaction after the switch and that neither of us remembers being anything other than what this wish makes us." "As you wish," the little man intoned solemnly. Heather sat nervously waiting. She started to check the stubble on her legs, then stopped when she realized what she was doing and straightened out her skirt. "Is it working?" she asked timidly. "It's working," the little man said. "It will be good to be a man again," she said sounding as if she were trying to convince herself. "I really think this wish will work out for the best." "I actually agree with you," the little man said, studying the air around Heather closely. "Why do you say that?" she asked. "Call it an educated guess," he shrugged. A sharp sudden ripple passed through Heather's body, causing her to shudder. She might have fallen if she hadn't been already sitting on the bed. "Ooh! I do believe it's starting to work," she said. "It is! I feel myself getting stronger!" Heather admired her growing biceps as she felt strength coursing through her body. Muscles started to grow on her and bones seemed to lengthen. "Since you only wished to exchange bodies with Frank and not places, you might want to get out of those clothes," the little man said pointing at Heather's dress. "Huh? Jesus, you're right!" she said and wriggled out of the increasingly tight dress. "Don't want to ruin this. Frank's going to need it later!" she laughed. "He probably will," nodded the little man. Wearing only her underwear, Heather walked up to the full length mirror in her room, undoing her bra along the way. She stared at her increasingly masculine body in the mirror. Her breasts were considerably smaller but still recognizable as female breasts. The rest of her figure had suffered more. Most of her curves had already been replaced by the straight lines of a gangly teenaged boy. Her hair looked like a shaggy pageboy cut instead of the thick shoulder-length mane it had been. It also had a distinctly lighter hue. She had been engrossed in watching these changes and so was caught by surprise when a strong ripple passed through her followed by a gut- wrenching shudder. When the dizziness passed, 'Heather' looked up into the mirror to see the face of a teenaged boy with short blonde hair and blue eyes instead of the red-headed brown-eyed girl that had been there. A smile crossed his face. "You know," 'Heather' said running a hand across his smooth flat chest, "I bet Frank is really freaking out right about now." "Yes, I imagine he's having a bit of an identity crisis," the little man said without breaking concentration on the flow of magical energy. "I know what she's going through!" 'Heather' smiled as he examined the growing erection underneath the ill-fitting panties he still wore. "I almost forgot what one of these felt like. I guess Frank will forget what this feels like. Unless she wants to reach out and touch one, that is!" Heather laughed loudly at his own joke. "She'll get used to it. I almost did." 'Heather' watched in the mirror as the last few pounds of bulk were added to his frame. Finally, the facial features changed and looking back at him form the mirror was the exact image of Frank, the young man that had almost screwed him into wanting to be a girl. A smile crossed his face as he thought about what 'Heather' must be going through right about now. A little sex would cure that, he thought. His erection grew as he imagined bedding 'Heather'. The little red-head was cute, with a nice taut swimmer's body. "So I'm Frank now," he mused. "You sure my sex life will be just as intense?" "It won't miss a beat," the little man assured him. "That's good," Frank managed to say just before another ripple passed through him suddenly. "Whoa!" he exclaimed. "What was that? It thought the wish was done." "The actual wish has been granted, true," the little man agreed. "There is just the matter of the qualifiers you added. Those still need to be implemented." "Qualifiers?" he snapped. "You son of a bitch! What are you doing to me?" "It's not me, it's you," the little man patiently explained. "You are the one that phrased that wish. Besides, I don't know any more than you do about what's happening. We'll both have to wait and see." Frank thought that the little man had a better idea of what was going to happen than he was letting on. He didn't trust the little man's magic and returned his attention to the mirror to see if he could detect any changes. There might have been something different about the eyes and chin, but he couldn't quite put a finger on any specific changes. A small shudder struck his body and when he refocused he saw that his hair had grown longer. It hung well past his ears now. Also, his chin was narrower with higher cheekbones. It was still recognizable as Frank's face, just softer somehow. He thought that the mirror had gotten bigger before realizing that he had in fact lost a few inches in height. He had a sick feeling that he knew what kind of changes were happening. "It's making me Heather again, isn't it?" he angrily challenged. "No, that wouldn't be stable," was the little man's calm response. Frank looked at his hands and saw that his fingers were becoming long and slender. He felt a weakness rush up his arms, across his shoulders, and down his torso through his legs. He darted his gaze back to the mirror and in doing so felt his hair brush against the top of his back. The mirror showed that his shoulders were softer and rounder, leading from a delicate neck down to his now slender arms and hands. His finger nails grew longer as he watched. "Liar!" Frank shouted, his voice cracking in pitch. "Anyone can see I'm becoming a girl again!" The mirror showed his nipples and areola to be larger and darker. They also began to rise off his chest as the flesh filled in behind them. He turned to yell once more at the little man but was interrupted by a powerful yet familiar gut-wrenching shudder that knocked him to the floor. Lying on hands and knees, 'Frank' knew that she had a vagina again just as she could feel her hair continue to lengthen and breasts continue to swell. A last few tingling sensations passed through her buttocks and legs before they too settled down and all changes seemed to stop. "I never said you weren't becoming a girl again," the little man said. "I just meant that you were not becoming Heather." 'Frank' got up off the floor and turned back to look in the mirror at the girl she had become. Other than being a teenaged girl, she didn't look much like she did when she was Heather. Where Heather had had neat shoulder-length red hair, the girl in the mirror had locks of blonde hair that cascaded down to her waist. While she thought her breasts were huge when she first became Heather, they were nothing compared to the breasts that now stuck out firmly from her chest. Where Heather had had an athlete's taut muscled body, this girl was all softness and curves. Yet there was a tightness of muscle here and there that indicated a different kind of stamina for more indoor sports. Heather had been cute, this girl was hot. "Who... Who am I" asked 'Frank' in a scared, vulnerable yet incredibly sexy voice. "You're still Frank," the little man said, "or a female version of Frank anyway. Specifically, you're Francine Harding; What Frank would have been had he been created female. And of course the person who used to be Frank is now Heather, or rather Harold McCullough. He's still a red- headed star of the swim team. Except now he's on the boys' team." "What happened?" Francine asked in shock and disbelief. "It was that qualifier about maintaining the same level of sexual satisfaction," he explained. "You do know that women get more out of sex than men do, don't you?" "I didn't think it would do this!" she said indicating her almost nude female body. "I just thought it would make me more sensitive or something." "Well, you're definitely more sensitive," he agreed. "I look like a wet dream," she said staring into the mirror. "That shouldn't be surprising," the little man said; now back in lecture mode again. "Frank's body was specifically created to sex up Heather's body. Given that Heather is now Harold, then it becomes obvious that this body would have to be an ideal sex kitten to give an equivalent level of sexual satisfaction to Harold." Francine plopped down to sit on the bed, a stunned look on her pretty face. "Don't take it so bad," the little man said consolingly. "You two were literally made for each other. He'll hardly be able to tear himself away from you, much less cheat on you or ever leave you. Believe me, there are worse fates than winding up as the bimbo girlfriend of a future star athlete." "Bimbo?!" Francine's head snapped around. "Oh, I guess I didn't mention that," he said. "Funny thing about keeping a healthy male athlete sexually satisfied is that it's not all physical. You will have to be thinking about it just about all the time. Plus you'll need a large working knowledge. That doesn't leave a lot of room for other thoughts." "No!!" she gasped. "I'm afraid so," he said studying the air around Francine intently. "That part of the transformation should kick in right about... now!" Francine froze for a moment. It felt like someone was rummaging through her mind pulling out all the memories she had of having sex when she was Heather. Then multiplying them and expanding them in ways she never imagined. She could tell other thoughts were being crowded out of her head, but once they were gone she no longer knew what they were anyway. So why get upset about that? Instead, new knowledge filled the gaps. She knew how to excite men, how to move, how to act, even what to say. With the right shifts, twitches, and touches she could bring a man to the point of orgasm as fast or as slow as she wanted, then keep him there indefinitely before pushing him over to experience things he didn't know he was capable of. She was the best lay a guy could dream for. "I don't have to stay this way, do I?" she asked quietly. "I can switch bodies again tomorrow, right? I just have to wish again." "You would have been able to, except for that last qualifier about neither of you being able to remember being anything other than what the wish makes you," the little man sadly reminded her. "I'm afraid that in just a moment, you're going to forget you were ever anyone other than Francine Harding. Sorry, this is goodbye." "NOOO!!" she pleaded. "You can't go! You have to give me one more wish!" "It's okay. You'll be alright," he said reassuringly. "You won't remember being a man, or being smarter. You'll be happy, wait and see. Goodbye." "Don't go!" she begged. "I don't want to be a bimbo." But the little man was already gone. Francine shook her head once, and then got up to look in the mirror for awhile. She then went to her closet and pulled out a couple of different outfits. She held each in turn against her body while she considered her reflection. She wanted to be sure to look extremely sexy tonight when Harold came over. Tonight seemed special for some reason. The poor boy trained so hard. He needed a release. For the life of her, she couldn't remember the last time she had given him a blow job and made a mental note to take care of that tonight. THE END