Zoes Mini Adventure
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Zoe's Girl free porn video
Zoe's Girl
Chapter One - "Hi Mom, Hi Dad!"
By GirlyCheerBoy
Email GirlyCheerBoy[at]gmail.com
I just stared, gaping, at the mirror. There, looking back at me, was the
quintessential image of a bubble-gum pop-culture preteen princess girlie-
girl. Only it wasn't a girl's reflection, it was my own! I couldn't
believe that my best friend Zoe had been able to so easily make me appear
to be a girl. I blinked, first as an involuntary muscle reaction to some
irritant to my eyes. Following that brief interruption to the still image
of the youthful Lolita-like face adorned with pink lipstick and
complimenting near-pink eye shadow and blush I forced myself to blink a
second time, then a third. Suddenly I found it hard to suppress a brief
chuckle of awe-inspired amusement. I winked at the boy that I knew was
staring at me, as if I were that girl I was seeing in the reflection
looking across the room at jaw-dropped boy whose eyes tracked my every
subtle movement. I turned my face to the side, slowly towards Zoe. I
paused and made a puckering of my lips as attractive and enticing as I
could muster, kissing passionately the boy deep inside who was lusting
hard for this young fantasy figure that suddenly had a face.
"So, do you believe me now?" Zoe asked me, grinning with a self-confident
'I told you so' kind of arrogance. "Too easy, Martin. Too easy."
"Wow," I said, looking at her instead of my own reflection finally. She
sat on a sitting pillow atop a wooden bench with her legs folded typically
back at the knee. She knew I'd stared long and dreamily hard at her legs
in recent months. We were both getting older, and while she was only 12,
and she was starting to take shape as a very attractive young woman.
"You are more girl than you realize," Zoe said, slowly sliding her legs
out from underneath her. She was graceful and fluid in an unbroken
movement that reminded me of how a soft breeze would drift across my face
in the spring. Ever mindful of her vulnerabilities and perceived
weaknesses, she kept my eyes innocent despite the amazing short dress
she'd selected to wear this afternoon. "Would you like to see more?" she
asked in a teasing tone that made me wonder if she wasn't trying to set me
up for something.
"Uh huh," I mindlessly droned as I turned to follow her progress across
the room.
She only expressed instruction for me to follow with a "Hmm" kind of
sound, and a coy invitation with a wagging finger on a hand trailing
behind her as she walked out of the room.
I turned on my heels and hurried after her. In the hallway my eyes eagerly
feasted on the show she put on as she led me down the hall. She had
clasped her hands together at the small of her back and she stepped in a
forcefully composed manner that was accented with her shoulder and head
being tossed to the extreme limit of her balance so that her pony tail
danced about as it was tossed back and forth. The entire rigid-legged
exercise seemed to imply a youthful carefree ignorance of any other
presence, but I knew she knew full well what she was doing. There was
rarely a time when Zoe wasn't in full control of at least her own actions
- and quite often she was manipulating several other people at the same
time.
This was one of those times, the often witnessed and only occasionally a
party to, when Zoe had things well under control. I didn't mind, even if I
was aware of it I doubt I would have - not then anyway. She stopped at the
stairs to the second floor and swung her arms out just a little as she let
her hands drop, sliding playfully down her dress, so that her palms
slapped on her bare thighs. The slapping "pop" that this created served
just enough to remove me from the entranced state I was in. Again, Zoe had
this orchestrated to perfection. Her hands were on her hips before I could
bring my eyes to meet hers, having been delayed on her uppermost leg and
hip area as her dress jumped just slightly from her hands quickly passing
over its hemline. Nothing, again, was generously put on display as to ruin
neither her nor my own innocence. The look in her eyes when mine finally
locked on hers, which had been apparently locked on mine for some time
longer, gave me a knowing chastening while her batting eyelashes and
softly upturned lips smiled at me encouragingly.
"Well, Martin," she said, pausing dramatically as if what she was about to
say was of great importance, "It seems to me that you want to see a lot
more of this girl too."
I was stunned. I didn't know whether she was trying to warn me to back off
or goad me into pressing further. It took me several seconds to come up
with something neutral to say, I couldn't tip my hand that both of her
accusations were true. "Well whatever you want Zoe," I said, trying to
keep from sounding nervous, and hoping that she'd find sincerity in my
reply.
"I don't think it's my wants that matter today," she replied in a playful
tone again, emphasizing 'my' by dropping the sweet-as-honey tone she
usually had, while fully implying it was entirely my desires that were
paramount. "But that's okay. I think it would be a lie to say I am not
intrigued by this fascination you have with, her."
"Her?" I asked, as she started to go up the stairs. I followed her, eyes
widening as she swung her arms widely, like a child skipping down the
sidewalk, carelessly allowing me to see up her dress with little being
hidden. "Who do you mean?" I said, coming to the top of the stairs,
finding Zoe already at her bedroom door only a few feet from the
staircase.
"Both of us, silly," she said, pulling her door shut so only her face
showed through the slim opening. "One second, I'll be right back," she
said quickly before shutting the door. I heard her rustling around in her
room. I had been over often enough to have seen her change before like
this, in a hurried on-the-fly manner, but never had I ever heard a peep
from her room in doing so. I got the impression that I'd either managed to
rattle her and she was losing her cool-as-ice facade or that she was
rearranging the furniture in her room.
I couldn't help but think how she must be attracted to me, since I was
already 13 and had to be changing like she was too, even if I couldn't see
it yet myself. "Zoe, are you ok?" I called in at the door a few minutes
later, after the flurry of activity appeared to have stopped.
"Yea, one sec babe!" she yelled back.
She never called me 'babe' before. I blushed, not knowing what that was
all about. Was she starting to think of me as a boyfriend? Surely not. But
then again, ever since we'd met when she'd moved in with her aunt and
uncle here when she was just 9 we'd been inseparable. We'd even been
allowed, as recently as three weeks ago, to stay the night at each other's
house, in the same room all night. No one in either of our families
thought anything more of our relationship than a friendship closing on
near-sibling affection for each other. Could it be that perhaps she was
seeing me in a less sibling way like I was starting to see her?
"Hi, hi!" she said in a perky speedy manner as she suddenly whipped the
door open. "Come in. Come in. Sorry about that, I had to clean up the room
a little before I let ya in." Her demeanor seemed different, more like
that of the girls on the television dramas in the evening than what I was
accustomed to seeing her as. "So, wanna see that totally hot new dress I
got this weekend that I..." She paused, and blushed. "Oh, you already saw
my babydoll dress, huh?" She grinned like she'd forgotten she was just
wearing it in front of me.
Maybe she had. Until she said that I really hadn't noticed she'd changed
into some small cotton shorts like the cheerleaders wore during practice
in the summer and a tank top that went around her neck instead of over the
shoulder and down her back. The top had the words "Too cute" on it, and
the shorts had "Princess" on the butt. Both were a soft pink color with
the writing in a common red.
"Zoe?" I asked, almost laughing. "Are you alright?"
"Me?" She put a hand on her chest and threw her head back with a mock
surprise expression. "Absolutely. But look at you!"
"What about me?" I said, looking down at my jeans and t-shirt. Nothing
unusual for me.
"Babe, you are never going to any hunk wanting your phone number looking
like that!" she said almost laughing at the very thought of it.
"Zoe?" I was flabbergasted.
"Shush," she said, putting her first two fingers together on my lips. "You
did say you wanted to see her more." She winked at me. "Oh, maybe you
meant more of me?" She had taken just a step away and looked over he
shoulder at me after saying that. "But if you're not interested in
exploring this anymore, I am sure we can just go play some stupid video
game or something." She suddenly sounded more like herself, well as I knew
her, but she had a sense of disappointment and sadness in her voice.
"No, no," I hurried to change her mind. "I am fine, I just wasn't prepared
to see you so... so Bianca Logan all of a sudden." Bianca Logan was a 14
year old girl that was every stereotype about teen-aged girls rolled up
into one mini-skirt-wearing pig-tailed-touting package of pure hyperactive
pep on both of our favorite TV program, "Jacob's Peak."
"Sorry," she said, blushing slightly. "I wondered how long I could keep
all tomboy morose on you," she said, sounding candid for the first time
all day. "Here." She pushed a small backpack like I'd seen many girls
carrying on their way to the Junior High school, where we'd be next year.
"What's this?" I asked.
"If you have to ask a ton of questions all the time this won't be any
fun!" she chided me as she close the distance between us. "No go on, get,
get." She was pushing me towards the other side of her room.
"Get where?" I asked.
She pointed to the closet where a changing screen was pulled out. "There."
She shook her head and gave me that 'duh' look. "Hurry up, and just take
off everything that I've supplied the equivalent for." I tried to start to
ask her a question. "And don't ask, just do it before you go thinking like
a little boy and ruin this for us both." Clearly she wasn't going to let
me ask anything.
"Hey, these might not..." I started to protest about the clothing in the
bag, but she cut me off.
"Half of that in there is lycra, it'll fit fine. The rest should we'll
just make do with. You're not that far off my size." She offered up
without compassion for what she'd given me. "Oh Marty, be a doll and hand
over those icky boys rags you have on first."
I took the clothes out of the bag. A small t-shirt that I doubted would be
too much trouble to fit into even with the sleeves practically non-
existent, a skirt that was thankfully a bit longer than Zoe's dress was
earlier, a pair of long really thin socks, a training bra and panties that
were both white with a pink bow in the center of each. There were even
shoes at the bottom of the bag.
"You want me to wear all of this?" I asked.
"Well you do." She emphatically stressed 'do' to me, "Want to do this
right, don't you Marty?"
"I guess so," I said, almost unsure if I really wanted to do it at all.
Then she said something under her breath about needing help getting into
her ballet dress and I lost all will to not do this. "Then again, anything
worth doing, right?" I said, trying to sound more spirited.
"That's the spirit!" she said happily. She turned on some pop music a
second after.
I took off my shirt and jeans, and sat down on the bench and to get my
socks off. When all of those were off I looked in the mirror and saw
nothing of the maturity I saw in other boys my age, and hoped that it was
only because I'd just turned 13 a month ago and not some slow onset of
puberty or worse a failure for it to come at all. While I stood there I
could hear Zoe pacing on the other side of the screen, waiting on me
obviously. It took all the gusto I could muster, but finally I got back to
task. Nervously I stepped out of my underwear, and pushed them into a
pocket of my jeans. I didn't want Zoe to see them even with all of this
going on.
"Here." I handed the bag out to her with all my clothing in it. "I'm gonna
get this other stuff on now," I said, before she could speak so she'd know
not to come around yet.
"Ok." She took the bag. "But don't keep me waiting too long! Girls can't
play fashionably late when you they don't have to decide what to wear."
She had that playful tone again. I heard her hopping about moving to other
side of the room and starting to sing along with the radio.
A moment later she reached her arm around, holding a glass of kool-aid for
me. "Here you go," she said cheerfully. "I thought you might like
something to drink." I thanked her, I was thirsty and downed most of it
before I sat it down on the floor beside the tall stool. It felt wonderful
to have had something to drink just then, I hoped it'd give me some
strength as I looked at the girls clothing awaiting me.
I took a deep breath as I picked up the panties, a finger and thumb to
each side as if I was going to break them by holding them any other way.
Slowly, I stepped into them and began to slide them up my legs. They were
very soft and by the time I got to my knees I was fully erect, and
discouragingly a rather sad display to boot, when I finally remembered to
breathe. I let out a long hard gasp of air as I jerked the panties up the
rest of the way. I looked in the mirror at how they hugged my unshaped
butt and how the modestly angled cut actually made me appear to have some
sense of a bikini line and just a smidge of hips shaping out. I took the
little bra next and undid the clasp. Putting an arm through each shoulder
strap was much faster done than was stepping into the panties. Thankfully
the bra clasped in front so I could see what I was doing by pulling it out
a little and looking as close to my chest as I could manage.
I took the shirt next, a small soft pink t-shirt with almost no sleeves. I
pulled it down over my head and slid my arms in, just like a normal shirt
I found out. I had no idea why I thought it would be different. It hugged
my body, almost all over. Right near the end, about where my ribs ended it
felt loose and I could see it hang and move a little as I leaned or
turned. I felt the soft fabric rubbing my skin and couldn't help but
wonder why girls' shirts were so much softer than boys since this was
cotton just like my own shirt had been. I shrugged, feeling it pull up a
little, and that loose area snuggly grip what had been snug with the area
just above it a moment before. I ignored it for now, I had to get the
skirt on before Zoe got impatient and came around the screen to see me.
Finally I pulled it up in front of me. The skirt was pink denim, pleated
much like a cheerleader's uniform skirt, actually if not for being denim
it probably could have been a pink uniform skirt. I unzipped the tiny
zipper on the side and slid the hook-and-eye clasp at the zipper's top
and carefully stepped into it. I pulled it up much quicker than the
panties over these same trembling legs, but only because it didn't start
to pull or get snug on anything until it was almost all the way up to my
waist. I pulled the zipper up carefully and took in a breath pulling my
stomach in a little to get the hook clasp secured. Then I turned and
looked at the mirror again. I was scared pale! The skirt was just as
short, if not shorter than Zoe's dangerously displayed dress!
I panicked and wondered what to do. I was looking around for my pants when
I'd remembered I'd already given them to Zoe. What could I do now? I
couldn't wear this, I'd be flashing my panties, no my butt in her panties,
to anyone... Then a new fear hit me, who else was she planning on having
over, or worse was she planning on forcing me to go outside with her
somewhere dressed like this? I was a wreck. Terror racked my brain and I
started to get confused and that made me more scared. Suddenly things
started to get fuzzy, the music seemed to get quiet and sounds seemed to
silence themselves. I felt like I was falling, maybe flying. It didn't
matter, I was not right.
Suddenly I felt something warm on my shoulder, then my hip. It was a hand,
someone was holding me. I leaned my head back and felt it come to rest on
a shoulder, cascades of light brown hair rained down onto and around my
face and hidden beneath these I began to finally feel safe from my
terrors.
"Baby, you have this all wrong." I vaguely remember hearing Zoe speak to
me. "This is way too high, let me fix this." I felt her tugging the skirt
to and fro, mostly downward, and some minor pulling on my shirt and
pushing my chest and more adjusting. She had me sit down and I felt the
air chill as something enveloped my leg from the foot all the way to the
base of my knee, then the other leg. A moment later my foot was trapped,
tightly secured in a firm based compartment.
I don't know how long I was out of it, but it had to be for more than just
a few minutes. I started to come around and found myself laying on the
couch in the den, of my house. I recognized the desk, Dad's deer head on
the wall that Mom would wouldn't let him put anywhere else. The lights
were dimmed so my eyes didn't ache but my head was throbbing.
I sat up and grabbed my head. I felt something odd, soft but thin and
paper-like. I stood up and when I did I almost fell down. My balance was
all wrong, and the rush of cool air on my legs... I looked down and almost
fainted. I was really wearing the tiny pink denim skirt and the tight
little shirt, which had a modest breast contour poking out from underneath
it. I stumbled trying to get to the mirror on the wall. The shirt was
short, leaving my tummy exposed almost entirely from the end of ribs to
the just above the widest point on my hips where the skirt rested.
Finally I'd realized that the shoes I was wearing had a heel on them, I
lifted a leg, bracing myself against an end table for support, and looked
at the shoe. It had to be a two or two and a half inch heel, easily. At
least it wasn't a spike heel or something similar. These looked like pink
schoolgirl shoes. The white socks that came up to my knees had a thin red
ribbon weaving in and out around the top band that ended in a bow on the
outside of my leg, a pink plastic heart charm in the middle of it all. I
looked at my hands, pink fingernail polish and longer nails. I didn't
remember putting fake nails on!
I managed to walk to the mirror by making really small steps that forced
me to turn my legs awkwardly, I was sure I looked like someone was pulling
a massive wedgie on me by the way I was walking. It occurred to me half
way to the mirror that I must be experiencing a wiggle or hip toss thing
like girls do, but without the hips for it I had to look awkward and
almost goofy like a lot of young girls still not quite developing into the
clothing sizes they grew into. It pained me to think of that, that I was
mincing around like a scared and awkwardly unprepared schoolgirl.
Finally I reached the mirror. I had pigtails, two of them high on the back
of my head that pushed long tails up before letting them arc downward
towards my back. I shook my head and felt them tickle my upper-mid back.
My long hair had been a curse in this whole thing, I thought. The paper
feeling stuff, two pig pink ribbons tied into bows at the top of the
pigtails, and several smaller pink and white and red streaming ribbons
twisting throughout the tails themselves.
My face had the same pink lipstick and eye-shadow and blush as before, but
my cheeks sparkled with girlish glitter too. I looked like a typical
'tween girl trying to be a cute little girl and an attractive young woman
at the same time. I stepped back and took a moment to read the shirt,
barely making the curvy elongated script in the reverse in the mirror.
"Daddy's Little Princess" it read. I took the mirror off the wall and laid
it on the floor, squatting I pulled the skirt pleats up and looked at the
mirror's reflection of my butt. Pink panties, not the white I remembered
putting on, with darker writing that said, "Angelic." I hardly felt
angelic at the moment.
Suddenly I heard a thud! "Zoe!" I said in a half-whisper, half-talk,
almost loud voice. My voice was off, sounding slightly higher than usual.
I shrugged that off, it had to be the sleep wearing off still. My voice
hadn't broken yet and it did all sorts of weird things when I woke up. I
stayed put, figuring being low couldn't hurt. I was wrong, it was going to
hurt no matter what.
Suddenly the lights got bright and I squinted in pain from the sudden
change to my eyes. I had been watching the doorway to the house and saw no
one come in. But hearing Mom and Dad's voices behind me I knew that they'd
come in from the garage.
"What?! Who the hell?" Dad said, standing somewhere behind me. I could
only imagine his shock, seeing a young girl squatting over a mirror that
had been on the wall holding her... I dropped the front of my skirt, not
even realizing that the mirror would be betraying any modesty anyway and
that it was a useless action since they were indeed behind me.
"Oh my!" Mom said a second later. "Robert, don't say..." Mom tried to stop
Dad, but it was too late.
"Stand up sweetie, and for modesty's sake, please step away from the
mirror on the floor." He said gently and calmly.
I stood slowly and took two steps forward, away from them.
"Turn around sweet heart, are you one of Martin's friends?" he asked me. I
shook my head no, feeling the pigtails bounce on my back and shoulders. I
winced realizing I'd screwed up again, if I wasn't their only child's
friend, what was I doing in their house? Dad didn't miss this miscue
either.
"Then what are you doing in our house, and how did you get in?" he said,
as I heard him taking a step forward, sounding slightly more inquisitive
and commanding.
Panic set in and I knew I couldn't let Dad see me like this. I had to get
out of the house fast. Before he could close within arms reach of me I
burst towards the other door. It was hard to run, since I was taking tiny
almost mincing steps in these shoes, as the shoes lacked real grip and
left me sliding and skidding a lot. I almost collided with a bookcase and
a wall before I got situated directly at the doorway. I was almost there,
I could hear Dad closing behind me as I reached out, hoping to grab the
doorway to slingshot myself around the corner into the hallway towards the
front door. Just before I made it to the door however Mom stepped in the
way. I locked my legs as best I could to stop, but it was useless.
I slid into her, leaning backwards and looking downward trying to stop and
not look at her at the same time. Both failed. I crashed into Mom and fell
flat on my butt, and momentum took my head back to the floor. I laid there
dazed from the sudden impact with Mom staring down at me astonished. She'd
recognized me right away.
As I started to pass out I heard Dad asking Mom what was the matter,
asking about blood...
"No, Robert," Mom said. "Our son is not bleeding," she said as I slowly
closed my eyes slipping off into my second unconsciousness for the day.
I had no idea what I'd find, or even that I'd be going unconsciousness to
awake to something, the first time. This time, I knew I'd awaken to a
confused and bewildered parents, and quite possibly an angry father that
cherished manliness and that was violently homophobic.
End of Chapter One
Gert
- 15.06.2021
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