Voices free porn video

Hey folks. This is a kind of throwback story. A little bit of a classic transformation. Hope you enjoy it. Voices It started with their voices. It was the first football game of the year, and the boys took the field, not realizing it was the beginning of the end for them. They did their stretching, their drills. They pounded on each other's shoulder pads, grunted and growled. The bands blasted away, horns and drums, blaring their fight songs, and the cheesed up marching band arrangements of popular songs. The crowd gathered, the other kids, the parents, the locals with nothing better to do on a Friday night in a small town in the middle of Iowa cornfields?pretty much everyone. We won the toss and elected to receive. The opposing team kicked the ball of with a WHUMP, Darren Kohler fielded it and ran it back to the 27- yard line, and the offense ran out onto the field and huddled. I glanced at Winnie, a fellow member of The Daughters, and she smiled. We knew what was about to happen, and though we could hear it, we watched as my boyfriend, the quarterback, reached up and grabbed his throat, shook his head, and the rest started milling around uneasily, reaching to their own throats. In the defensive huddle they were doing the same thing. We knew what it meant: they now had the tiny, high-pitched voices of little girls, sopranos one and all. The play clock was running out, and Coach Jones shouted, "Get to the line..." stopping as his own flutelike voice echoed prettily across the field. In the stands, shocked men were clearing their throats, spitting, only to find that they still spoke in the diminutive voices of female children. The official called timeout. They gathered to discuss the situation, ignoring the sound of their own altered voices. Given their druthers, the men and boys would have called the game off, run to the doctor to find out what was wrong, but we had used powerful magic, and they all found themselves agreeing, despite their shame and embarrassment, to continue on as if everything was normal. It was a necessary condition of the spell. They would do just keep going on with their lives through this change and all the changes-- it would prevent them for seriously pursuing a cure?or a cause. It wasn't that they would easily accept it, but despite their shame and consternation, they would just stick to living their lives and dealing with the changes. The game started. It was like a poorly overdubbed movie. Everything was the same, but for the voices coming out of the boys. The offense broke huddle, and the lineman lined up along the ball in their three point stances. The receivers split out and Gary, my boyfriend, looked over the defense and called out the signals in his soft, musical voice: "Red, Red, 120. 120. Hut, hut, hut." He handed the ball to the tailback who made a cut at the line to shake a tackler, ran forward for about six yards and was decleated by the safety who hit him so hard the "POP" echoed across the field. "Oooooohhhhhhh," the crowd said, but with all the voices now girl's and women's, it sounded more like a crowd at a fashion show gushing over a pretty dress than a football game. The safety huddled over the tailback as he struggled to his feet, "I laid you out," he said, the boast sounding ridiculous in the teakettle little voice of his. "I've been hit harder," the tailback squeaked back, sounding equally absurd. Winnie and I shared another triumphant smile. The other girls on the squad, they weren't among The Daughters, and at first they reacted with confusion and dismay at what was happening. Ordinary women, they had no interest in seeing the men they all had crushes on speaking like little girls, but gradually our spell worked on them, as well, and by the end of the game we were talking about how cute the boys sounded now, how sexy with their small little voices. We won the game, and Gary found me on the sidelines in my skirt, my pon pons on my hips. "Nice game, Tiger," I said with a smile. He leaned down and kissed me, one strong arm around my waist. "I don't know what's happened to us," he said in his new Tinker Bell on helium voice. "I think it's really sexy," I said. "Really?' He answered, surprised and pleased. "Really," I said, drawing him in for another kiss. The spell was cast by our sisters throughout the world that day, popping off in different time zones and different places whenever the sisters wanted, but within 24 hours all the men in the world had found their speech altered. The news was full of talk about how it had happened and what it had meant, men in dark suits sitting in their news rooms chatting prettily about the strange change, while the female news anchors looked on, bemused, sometimes teasing them, sometimes consoling. It was the same at school. The air was now filled with the soft, pretty voices of the boys, and the lower voices of the women and young women. It would make an interesting study for sociologists and psychologists, because though the spell had not yet affected any magical change in behavior, the sound of their voices alone did change them. In mixed groups, the embarrassed boys spoke less now, deferring to their girlfriends. In class, they spoke with less confidence and authority. Gradually, finding that they could no longer command our attention with their deep, growling tones, they began to speak more musically, prettily, using their new voices to charm instead of challenge. I loved chatting with Gary now, more than ever. I always tried to get him to talk about guy stuff?Ultimate Fighting, football, it was sweet hearing him get all perky and excited, chiming on about the badass fight he'd seen in his pretty little voice. It was the same at home. My Dad and little brother, Kevin, watching football games, squealing and squeaking, and I mercilessly teased little Kevin every chance I got, telling him he should join the choir because they needed someone to sing soprano, that kind of stuff. That was the only change for the first two weeks, and then we unleashed the second wave of the spell. Winnie and I chose to do it at another football game?this time the game against our nearest rival, Old Town High School. This time, we took their muscle. As the first quarter progressed, their bodies became more slender, their arms and legs losing their bulk and becoming thinner and thinner, more and more small and tiny. Winnie and I couldn't help but laugh as they, one after another, struggled to keep their pants up, running off the field begging the equipment managers for smaller belts. As Gary's arms shrunk down, as slender as a tween girl's, he could barely throw the ball, taking little jumps trying to get more behind the passes, but his girl throws fluttered through the air, and after the second pick, he ran to the sidelines and I heard coach scream, "we're running for the rest of the night." The other team grew thin and weak, too, and it was cute watching them now, trying to tackle and block, cursing prettily at their lost strength, stomping their feet in frustration. At halftime, I ran over to Gary as he was heading toward the locker room and handed him one of my belts?a slender, white leather belt with a gold clasp. "To help you keep your pants up," I said. He took the belt in a small, slander hand and chirped, "thanks." As we finished our halftime cheers, we stopped and talked with the other squad for a while, laughing at what was happening on the field. One of the other girls said, "They're kind of cute, trying so hard." Winnie and I smiled. As we walked back to our side of the field, Winnie said, "If they think the boys are cute now, just wait until we get done with them." "I can't wait until Gary gets his breasts," I said. We both giggled. A trainer ran out from the locker room and begged the girls on the squad for belts, any belts small enough for the newly slenderized males. We all obliged, as did some of the girls and mothers in the stands. The men in the stands were chagrined at their own loss of strength, and I smiled as I saw them looking at their puny arms and tiny waists, each and every face a mask of confusion, shame and?fear. Yes, it was fear. They had always counted on their strength, it had made them feel confident, secure, and now it was gone. And it was flowing into us. This time, as the boys and men grew weaker, we grew stronger. Our bodies didn't bulk up, no girl wants that, but our arms and shoulders grew harder and more powerful, and by halftime there wasn't a girl on the cheerleading squad who couldn't beat any boy on the football team in arm-wrestling. The team ran out onto the field for the second half, many now with girl's belts holding up their pants. It helped, and our team ran better than theirs, so we ended up winning. Don't get me wrong, it was like watching a stoppable force meet a movable object, but our guys ended up beating their guys in what looked and sounded more like a powder puff football game than anything else. Gary came up to me after, and I could see he needed a hug. "I don't know what's happening," he said softly. "Look." He held up the little pipe stem for an arm I had given him. I squeezed his bicep?or what passed for one now, and gave him a kiss. "You're as sexy as always to me," I said. "Really?" He whispered. "Really." "I played so bad tonight." "You played well for a boy, and anyway I don't care about that," I answered, mussing his hair. "I love you no matter what." He smiled. The next day, I walked into the kitchen and my father was struggling to open a jar of sauce. "Let me try," my brother Kevin said, taking the chair and making pretty little noises as he struggled helplessly with it. "Let your sister do it," my mother said. "No," Kevin said. "I can..." But I pulled the jar from his hands and popped the lid off with a flip of my wrist, handing it back to him. "Boys are so weak," I said. He and my father slunk from the room. Gary was having a hard time with it as well. "My little sister can lift more than me now," he said. He was wearing shorts and a tank top, showing off his long, willowy limbs and small, round shoulder. "It doesn't make any sense." "I heard on the news it may be a virus of some kind," I said. "I hope so," he said. "Because then maybe there's a cure." We were sitting under a tree in the park, and we made out. It was just as great as I had thought it would be, being the stronger partner. As we kissed, we wrestled, and when Gary found himself on his back, his arms pinned above his head, he struggled to push me back and get on top, but I kept him pinned, smothering his objections in kisses until he just lay back with a sigh and accepted his new position. Our spell still hadn't done anything to their minds, but give a man the voice of a little girl and the strength of a pre-teen female, and it changes him. All over campus I saw it as the boys found themselves a little more clingy, a little more compliant, a little more?well, let's just say it?feminine. The next change would alter their minds a little bit, and Winnie and I could barely disguise our glee as it happened. Once again, we were at the football game, and once again as the game started the boys found themselves changed, this time as long, girlish locks suddenly poured down over their shoulders. The guys on the sidelines immediately put their hands to their heads, burying them in their thick, wavy or curly hair, looking like a bunch of shampoo models, while the guys on the field stopped and pulled off their helmets. I watched as Gary pulled off his helmet and shook his head, full platinum waves of hair swirling around his face. It was like one of those old commercials where a kid takes of a baseball hat, the long hair falls out and you realize that it's a girl, but these were all boys, shocked and confused, again. Up in the stands it was the same, and I smirked as I saw Kevin with glossy strawberry curls halfway down his back. My father was brushing his own chestnut bangs out of his eyes, and the whole stadium was filled with the pretty chirping of the men. The coaches rushed out, their long hair bouncing, and they gathered with the officials, but the spell took hold and again the decision was made that things must go on. Having learned from the belt incident, the equipment manager came to us right away asking for scrunchies or rubber bands or anything that could be used to manage the boy's long hair. We obliged, and watched, giggling, as the players sat down to have their hair put into ponytails. The change the spell had made was that as humiliated as embarrassed and confused as they were, the boys and men all suddenly found that they not only wanted to keep their beautiful long hair, but became fascinated with styling it. That weekend, Gary asked me in a very small voice if I could help him with his hair. I sat him down at my dressing table, and braided his hair for him, telling him all about the different kinds of braids, and then he eagerly practiced and then I introduced him to the world of bobby pins and barrettes and all the other little things he would need to know. When he left my house, he had his hair up, tendrils hanging down to either side of his face, and he smiled and hugged me and said thanks in a gushy, girly voice. The same scene was played out in houses all over town, as husbands and boyfriends sat down with the women in their lives to learn all about hairstyles. I offered to show Kevin, but he just walked away, and that night he sat down with my mother for a little mother son session of hair care. Monday morning was sweet. Father was in the kitchen, his hair up in a perfect style for a professional woman. Kevin was sullen, a thick red braid hanging over his small shoulder, bangs down to his eyebrows. "You look really cute," I said. "Mom!" "Don't be mean to your brother," she said, but we each exchanged a bemused glance. Winnie had gone all out with her boyfriend, while I was content to let things take their course with Gary, she had been working hard on breaking Dan's confidence, and he showed up at school with his long raven hair in pigtails, each pigtail tied off with a little pink bow. "Hey, Dan," I said, playing with one of the bows. "I love your hair." "Thanks," he almost whispered, taking Winnie's hand defensively. "He likes to be called Dani now," Winnie said. "Don't you Dani?" He smiled prettily. "I guess so." Gary walked up. His platinum blonde mane was down, framing his face in waves, rolling over his shoulders and down his back. "Hey, cutie," I said, putting my arm around his waist and pulling him to me. "Hey," he said, leaning down to give me a peck. "Does anyone have a brush?" It was a fun week, watching the boys fuss with their hair, brushing it and primping. One day I walked by a boy who was sitting, smiling as another braided his long brown hair, and as I passed I heard him say, in his small little voice, "she has a nice ass." It wouldn't be long until he would have one of his own. In the cafeteria, Gary sat with a brush in one hand and a little mirror in the other. Dani was on his third hairstyle that week, as Winnie insisted he keep trying different looks. Now, his jet-black hair had been French braided. He was telling Gary how he might get highlights put in. "Oh," Gary said. "But your hair is so pretty." "That's what I said!" Dani answered. "Dani is getting highlights," Winnie said. "And he'll look really sexy. Trust me." Gary and Dani exchanged a glance and rolled their eyes. I knew what they were thinking?women! Who do they think they are bossing us around? I decided to join in the fun. "Maybe you should get your hair dyed red," I said to Gary. "You'd look really handsome as a red-head." "No waaaaay!" he said girlishly, tilting his head side- to- side, looking at his hair in the mirror. "My hair is perfect." Setting down his brush, he buried his hands in his thick blonde hair and started to fluff it. "Do you know how many guys would kill to have hair like this?" "Boys are so vain," I said, giving him a little kiss on the cheek. That week, we unleashed our spell during the cold, dark hours of Friday morning. The Daughters had agreed to unleash the spell in waves within a 24-hour window, and as much as we loved doing it during the football games, this one would need to be done sooner so the boys would still be able to play. At long last, we took their height. Men and boys all over town woke up to find themselves 5 feet tall, to maybe 5' 6" or 5'7" at the tallest. There had been taller women than that, but we wanted them all to be small, and meanwhile the girls were now all taller?5' 10 to well over 6 feet. I went downstairs to find my father and brother in their now over-sized pajamas, looking glum, whispering in their soft voices about what they should do. I was now over 6 feet, and I could see the irritation on Kevin's face as he saw how I would literally be able to lord it over him now even more than before. The spell was pushing them to keep to their routines, but there was a problem now?none of their clothes would fit. "Kevin," I said, "I have some jeans and stuff you could wear," I said. "Girl's clothes?" He said sourly. "I don't think so." "Jeans and t-shirts are jeans and t-shirts," I answered. The spell was designed to make the boys inclined now to start wearing girl's clothing, but Kevin was fighting it. "Forget it," he said, getting up and stomping off. "I'll just roll up my pant legs." When my father came back down, he was wearing a pair of my mother's slacks and a plain white blouse. At school, about half the guys had shown up wearing clothes they had gotten from their sisters or mothers. They were as androgynous as you could find, but the fit told the story. Meanwhile, the rest were wearing their old clothes, looking like little girls dressed up in their daddy's clothes. Gary came up to me. He was about 5' 2" inches and glanced up sheepishly at me from beneath his platinum bangs. "Look at me," he said. "I had to wear my little sister's clothes to school today." He was wearing hip-hugger pants, a blue sweatshirt and a pair of girl's running shoes. Other than the pants, it wasn't all that girly, but he was clearly humiliated facing the reality that he was now no bigger than his little sister?or bigger than she used to be. I gathered him in for a hug and a kiss on the head. "I'll always love you," I said, just as I always did. "Really?" He said. I reached down to sweep him off his feet. He squealed and threw his arms around my neck, and I carried him to his class, shouting, "I will always love this boy!" "Put me down!" He said, his face a mixture of shame at his own diminutive state and pride at the strength of his girlfriend. I carried him right into class and set him on his feet next to his desk before bowing. "Go away," he said. But instead I put my arm around his waist, pulled him to me and bent down to kiss him on the lips. He pushed away at first, but then surrendered, leaning into me and running his small hands up my back. "Miss Night this is not appropriate," Mr. Johnson said, standing at his desk in his wife's clothes. When I got done I turned and walked out, smirking at Mr. Johnson and saying, "I like your blouse." The boys in the room rushed to Gary, chattering excitedly about the kiss. Coach ran over to the middle school and borrowed uniforms that would fit our team. Our rivals did the same, and we all laughed and giggled as they ran out at the start of the game, looking for all the world like a football team of little girls, their pony-tails bobbing, their small bodies, their slender arms. The game was comical, the little boys running prettily around the field, confused and dismayed and unsure of themselves. It was almost too much for Gary. It took him forever to get ready after a game now. He used to shower and be out in no time, but now he had to fuss with his hair, so when he and the other guys finally came out it was pretty late. Gary had a bow in his hair. "Good game," I said to him. "No it wasn't," he answered. I saw that he had been crying. "You did great, considering..." "Considering that I am turning into a girl?" "Turning into... don't be silly." "Look at me," he said, grabbing a hank of his long hair. "Look at my hair. Look at my... arms. I'm wearing my sister's clothes. Listen?I sound like a Barbie doll. I'm turning into a girl, and you know it." "Gary, everyone is changing. All the guys. It's..." "It's horrible," he said, stomping his little foot. "Horrible." And with that he spun and ran. I looked around. Winnie and Dani were standing nearby, both looking shocked. "Well," Dani said. "Go after him!" He was right, so I dutifully trudged off after Gary, irritated at his feminine little outburst, but resigned to playing my part. You wanted this, I reminded myself. So now you have to deal with it. I found Gary and we went through the routine. Me comforting him. Him crying. Him throwing a second hissy. Me being strong and confident, telling him that everything would be all right, wiping away the tears. Him smiling prettily, giving me a big hug, me walking him home, and then?thankfully?the payoff, as we sat on the porch swing, and I gathered his little body into my arms and kissed him until he almost fainted. Gary came over to my place on Saturday to "watch football." He snuggled up against me on the couch, and we kissed a little. Then, halfway through the first quarter, a commercial came on, and I took the remote from him and flipped to reruns from the last year's national cheerleading competitions. "What are you doing?" Gary said. "Just till the commercials are over." At halftime, we flipped over and never went back to football. Gary found himself fascinated with the dance routines, the precision cheers, the pretty uniforms. He asked me all about my experiences as a cheerleader, and we argued about which cheerleading team was best and hissed the judges when they didn't vote for the teams we liked. It was sweet observing Gary as he stared at the screen, his eyes glittering with girlish excitement as the girls did splits and cart wheels and handstands, and when I offered to teach him to do a cartwheel he got all bubbly and excited and practically dragged me to the basement where we had mats laid down. After, I said, "We need some guys for the winter sports cheerleading team. Maybe you should come out for cheerleading this winter. Cheer on the basketball team." "Cheerleader?" He said derisively. "Me? No way." But I could see he really wanted to do it, and I knew it was just a matter of time before I had him out there kicking and tumbling and dancing for the crowd. Finally, and this was the sweetest part, I led him up to my room and started giving him clothes from my closet. "You don't want to wear your little sister's clothes," I said. "And these won't fit me anymore." "I don't know..." he said, biting his lip. But I bullied him into taking a whole suitcase of my blouses and slacks home, even throwing in some skirts and dresses over his objections. It was planted in all of them now. The desire to dress in girl's clothes?or what were boy's clothes now?and it would just be a matter of time before Gary simply had to see what he looked like in a dress. Winnie had done even better. She showed me a picture of Dani in her cheerleading outfit. He was on his knees, pon pons in hand, smiling up at the camera. His sweater was fulsom, as if he had full, round breasts. "I stuffed his bra," she said, giggling. "He didn't like that too much." "You've really brought him along quickly," I said, wishing I had gotten Gary into a bra so soon. "Wait until you see him today." A little while later when Dani walked up, I saw what she meant. He was wearing a pink hoodie and a pair of tight white sweat pants with the word "Juicy" across his butt. Pink sneakers, and across his slender shoulders, bouncing from his hip was a purse. It was Dior shoulder bag with pretty buckles on the strap and the bag itself, and I felt jealous of him right away because I had wanted that bag for the longest time. I fingered the purse strap and said, "I love your bag." Dani's face became clouded. "It's not too girly, is it?" He said, glancing at Winnie for reassurance. "Not at all," Winnie said, giving him a little kiss. "Is it?" "No," I said. "I gave him a pat on the head. "You look very macho." "Thanks," he said, smiling with relief. "I'm glad, because I really do love this bag." And with that, he proceeded to open it and show me all its little features. I became determined to do the some of the same stuff with Gary before his mind was fully changed and he wanted to do it, so that day after school I lured him up to my room. We started to kiss, but then I pushed him away. "What is it?" He said. "Nothing." "Tell me." "Well, it's just that there's something... but no." "What?" "Let me show you something," I said. He followed me over to the dresser, and I opened it up to reveal a baby doll nightgown. It was white lace with blue trim and blue bows under each breast. Gary swallowed. "It's really... sexy." "Touch it," I said. "Feel how soft it is." He touched it with his fingertips, then picked it up and rubbed it against his cheek. "Oh! It the softest thing I've ever felt." "So, the thing is, I wanted to ask you something." He looked up at me searchingly. "What?" I turned my back. "Forget it," I said. "Do you want to... wear this when we make out?" He said. "No," I said. "I want you to wear it." "What?" "See!" I yelled. "I knew it." "I'm not a girl," he said, still clutching the baby doll, but when I turned around I could see the struggle in his eyes. On the one hand was what was left of the young man he'd been, and then there was the feminine creature he was becoming, and the desire to please me and please himself by putting on something sexy was at war with who he'd been. "You don't love me," I said. "You never did." "Just because I won't..." "Just go," I said. "I finally ask you for one little thing, and it's too much. This relationship is always about you, you you." "But..." "Go." "Fine," he said. "And give me my ring back." "You mean?" "I'm breaking up with you." Finally, I looked back at him. His lip was trembling, and his eyes were filling with tears. He had the baby doll in his left hand, letting it dangle from his fingertips. In short order, he was sitting in the baby doll with his eyes clothes while I carefully applied eye shadow. When I was finished he opened his eyes and smiled. "How do I look?" He piped. "Incredibly sexy," I answered, and when I turned him so he could look at himself in the mirror, he grinned and, putting a hand on his hip, turned this way and that, puckering up and blowing a kiss at the mirror. "Gosh, I do look really handsome." The baby doll was sheer and you could see his bra and panties, and I scooped up my camera and started taking pictures, getting him into classic model poses, giggling and laughing the whole time until I finally tossed the camera to the side, threw my arms around him and kissed him to his knees. When I walked Gary to the door, he was wearing a pair of panties under his sister's jeans, and a bra under her t-shirt. He didn't need the bra yet, but I'd pushed him over the threshold, and his feminine nature was taking over. He also had one of my purses over his shoulder. Kevin walked in as I was kissing him goodbye, Gary on his tiptoes. "Hi Kevin," he said prettily. "Bye!" "Was that your boyfriend with a purse?" Kevin said. "Yeah. Isn't he cute?" "More like a homo," he said. He was still fighting his new urges, wearing his old clothes. I toyed with the idea of twisting his arm and making him put on some girl's clothes but thought better of it. Two days later, I came home early and caught him in my mother's wedding dress. He was sitting at her table putting on pearly pink lipstick when I opened the door, and he leapt to his feet with a high-pitched scream. He shrieked. "Get out!" I sauntered in, laughing. "My, don't you look cute." Lifting his skirts, he tried to rush past me, but I grabbed him by his slender little arm and effortlessly tossed him onto the bed. "Relax," I said. "I won't tell anyone." "You won't?" He said prettily. "I won't." "Thanks," he said. "Sometimes you're not half bad for a big sister." "You do look really cute," I said. "You'll make a gorgeous groom." He kicked his feet. "I don't know what came over me." "It's okay, little bro. If you haven't noticed, most guys are finding themselves in girl's clothes these days. It just seems like the trend." "I know," he said. "But I've been making fun of them all week. If they found out..." "Well, they won't find out from me. But, maybe you should just be who you are and stop pretending you're someone you're not." The next day, Kevin went to school in a skirt. I was really proud of him. Winnie and I had a good laugh over the pictures of Gary in his baby doll. "He looks really sweet," she said. "How did you do it?" I told her the whole story and she laughed. "You're learning. It's good, isn't it?" "What?" "Being in charge." Finally, it was time to give the boys their figures. It has been decided by The Daughters that we would let their figures develop over the period of a couple weeks, as it that way they could all experience training bras. Later, of course, boys would all develop similarly to girls as they went through puberty. I could barely sleep that night, and when I woke up in the morning I showered, dressed and got down stairs early, eager to see the reactions from my father and, especially, Kevin. My father was wearing a tailored jacket that hid his breasts. Kevin was slouching and wearing a one of his old, now baggy jacket as he came down the stairs. He had his arms crossed self-consciously over his chest. My mother came down behind them, smiling. "Why are you wearing a jacket?" I asked Kevin sweetly. He looked away without a word. "Don't forget," Dad said. "I'll pick you up after school." Kevin just rolled his eyes. At school, Winnie led Dani by the hand. His denim jacket was open, revealing the tight-shirt he wore, through which I could see the outline of his bra. "Doesn't Dani have the cutest little boobs?" Winnie said. It was too much, and I felt for him a little, but I smiled and said, "You look really cute." Dani blushed and turned away. Gary came along, his old lettermen's jacket hanging over him, zipped up to the top, his arms also crossed over his chest defensively. I put my arm around me and pulled him to me, but he lifted his arms and kept them between us so I wouldn't feel his soft new chest. "Gary, I know," I said, looking him in the eyes. "I... don't want you to feel them..." he whispered. I kissed him on the forehead and, giving his arm a squeeze said, "I'll see you at lunch." He nodded, and then he and Dani slunk away. "You're being too easy on him," Winnie said. I shrugged. "I'll have my fun at lunch time." It was hilarious. All the males?teachers, students, janitors... they all kept their jackets on through the morning, humiliated by their bouncy little breasts. The girls teased them, and on more than one occasion I heard a squeal as someone snuck a quick hand in and gave a guy a nipple twist. I was amused but distracted. I kept picturing Gary opening up his jacket to reveal his pert little breasts. Lunchtime came. We found a secluded spot behind A Building. Gary sat uneasily next to me, and I brushed his hair back from his face and, holding his smooth cheek, kissed him. Then, I sat back and looked at him sitting there, so small and pretty. "Show me," I said hoarsely. "No... I just don't..." I reached over and grabbed the zipper that rested just below his chin. He grabbed my arm with his tiny hands, but I easily overpowered him, pulling the zipper down halfway. With a shriek, he grabbed the flaps of the jacket and pulled them closed. "Don't!" He said. I frowned, picked up my book bag and stood up. "See you." I made it ten steps before I heard him say, "wait." I stopped. Turned. He nodded, then opened up his jacket. He was wearing one of his little sister's t-shirts, and it hugged his little breasts tightly. I could see his swelling nipples. "You look so beautiful," I said, walking slowly back to him. "I look... stupid!" He said, his eyes filling with tears. "No... Gary... don't cry...."I pulled him to me, his soft breasts pressing into my own. I kissed the tears away, and then held his small, soft body against mine, loving having him like this, and knowing that it wasn't over for him or the rest of the guys. Every morning for the next week, Gary woke to find his breasts had gotten bigger, that his hips had widened, and his waist had grown narrower. All the guys were developing figures just like women, just like the ones they had lusted after in their girlfriends and wives, in their porno magazines and websites. And, just like tomboys, they hated what was happening to them, the betrayal of their bodies, turning soft and round and feminine, but they slowly realized something else very strange and new and frightening?girls were going after the guys with the great figures, they were getting attention for their nice, round asses and their blossoming breasts. By the end of the week, guys were strutting around campus in tank tops that hugged their bouncy new assets, their bra straps showing against the smooth, tan shoulders. I was walking down the hall when I heard it for the first time: "Ummm... I'm up here," a guy said petulantly to a girl he was talking to while she stared down the top of his shirt. He was wearing a push up bra, his blouse was unbuttoned halfway to his belly button, and he was wearing a necklace with a shiny locket that nuzzled right in his impressive cleavage. Like he didn't want the attention! Two weeks later, I had Gary down to his bra. We were in the front seat of my car, kissing and hugging, trying to cop feels off each other. He would squeeze my breast, and I'd slap his hand away, and then squeeze his. Finally, he was reaching around, trying to undue my bra, and I stopped him. "If you want to see mine, you have to let me see yours first." "Okay," he said nervously. I reached back and unclasped his bra, then helped him slip it off. He sat their with his arms at his sides, his face turned to the side, eyes lowered, his full, round breasts swaying free, the nipples tiny pins. I reached back and undid my bra, and then we came together, our soft naked breasts pressing against one another. Gary closed his eyes and moaned softy, and I slid my hand down, cupping his naked breast, squeezing it. His breasts were slightly bigger than mine, and definitely perkier. I was a little jealous. "Pinch my nipples," he whispered, running his hands through my hair. "What?" I said, surprised. "Pinch my nipples," he almost begged. I took his nipples between my fingers and pinched. He arched his back and gasped, then said, "harder. Harder!" It was all I could do to keep from laughing. After, I rolled down my window and lit a cigarette. Gary fished his compact out of his purse and fixed his make-up. I watched, smiling, as he carefully applied his bubblegum pink lipstick. When he was finished, he got out a brush. "Do you have to get home soon?" He asked. "And baby sit?" "Yeah." "No. Kevin does the babysitting now. Boys are better at it." "My dad..." Gary started, but stopped. "What?" "He's nursing my baby sister now." "That's sweet. That'll be you nursing our baby someday cutie pie!" After I dropped Gary off, I went home and swaggered into the living room. Kevin was sitting on the couch with his legs tucked under him. He'd put his long, curl red hair up, and his face was all blue, covered in some sort of facial cream. He was wearing a blouse that showed off the C-cups I'd especially blessed him with. I smiled and gave him a wink. "How was baby sitting?" "Fine," he said, not taking his eyes off the television?he was watching Dancing with the Stars. A tall, handsome woman was effortlessly lifting a pretty little man off his feet and then twirling him in the air. "He's really pretty," I said. "Yeah," Kevin said. "But not as pretty as my little brother." That week was the last football game of the year, and the last ever for the boys as they were really too small and weak for the sport. I was the most laughable and ridiculous of all. The boys spent more time worrying about their hair and clothes these days than anything, and Gary, Dani and the rest of the players were so busy with cheerleading practice, field hockey and gymnastics they barely had time to think about football. It was cute to see them in their little uniforms, their ponytails streaming from under their helmets, their tight little, rounded buts in the football pants, swishing around the field. Whenever our team made a good play, Gary and the other cheerleaders to be would do flips and cartwheels, high kicks and generally bounce around the field prettily. It took the team over and hour and a half to get ready for the big dance. When the locker room finally opened, they came out wearing tight little dressed that hugged their new figures, their hair was all primped and sprayed in place, and they had expertly put on their make-up?smoky eye shadow, glossy red lipstick. Gary now had full, C-cup breasts that he proudly showed up in a low cut little black dress. He was wearing heels and had a little black purse tucked under his arm. I wrapped my arms around his narrow waist and picked him right up off his feet. Dani was wearing a silver mini-dress and was equally dolled up. Winnie had given him an improbable pair of D cups?very rare in a boy his age, but enough to make him the envy of half the boys in school?and Winnie the envy of all the girls. And that's how it went through the spring. I was a star on the basketball team, and Gary was there at every game in his little pleated skirt, kicking and dancing and shouting out cheers, rushing up to me after every game and looking up at me with wide, pretty eyes full of girlish pride at his big, strong athletic girlfriend. We double-dated with Winnie and Dani, and when the prom came I found myself pinning a corsage to Gary's dress, my fingertips just brushing the soft, round flesh of his breasts, while his parents looked on, beaming with pride at the beautiful young man they had for a son. He looked so pretty it almost broke my heart, and I proudly slipped my arm around his tiny waist and led him into the gym, which had been transformed into a fairy tale castle. "I'll always love my little princess," I said, taking him in my arms. "Really?" He said. "Really." It was during the summer that we are started to get tired of it. I came walking up the beach, my surfboard under my arm, saltwater streaming from me. Gary was sitting in his white bikini top and boy shorts, his breasts soft and round, his long legs smooth and tan. He'd been my little beach bunny, and I'd loved seeing him trying to play volleyball, his breasts always in danger of bouncing out his top, giggling as he bungled shots and fell in the sand. But as he came up to me that day and gushed "you were so great," in his pretty little voice, giving me arm a squeeze, I realized that I missed GUYS. Big, strong, dumb guys. It had been fun changing them and letting them see what life was like as the weaker sex. But now that we'd done it, I wanted a MAN again. It turned out the other daughters felt the same way. We were all free, in our areas, to leave any guys we wanted in their feminine forms. But is was agreed that with exemptions only for the sleaziest sexist pigs, wife beaters and others we selected, we would undue the spell and get our men back. And so it was that as we headed off to college together, I found myself snuggling against the hard, flat chest of my man, running my fingers over his rock-ribbed abs, and being glad that he was what he was, and I was what I was. But I was glad, too, that for one year the guys had been the weaker sex. It was a fun change, and gave us all a new perspective.