Danny, Part 2 free porn video

DANNY Part Two by Roberta J. Cabot This is a story about Daniel, a guy with a unique talent and an even more unique problem: A great singing voice and the looks of his gorgeous sister. And how he and his family deal with his having breasts, and how he deals with getting turned on by his would-be girlfriend. And how he ends up as the female lead singer for a high-school pop band as well as a radio DJ. Never a dull moment with Batch Fourteen, and Dan & his gang. Author's Note: I started writing this December 2005, soon after I discovered the soon-to-be-defunct Fictionmania site, and I decided to try my hand at writing Transgender Fiction. And it took me this long to build up the courage to actually upload it for others to enjoy (or not - your option heheh). I recently resurrected what little I had of my old story, and though I am by no means a real writer, I hope to finish the rest of the story eventually Since I thought FM was gone, I first uploaded it in Crystal's StorySite,and, though still incomplete, I was convinced to try uploading it in other sites as well (BCTS et cetera). Through the friends I made in these sites, I found out from them that FM was back. So everything's come full circle. Here's the story now. Feedback would be most appreciated, so I do hope people write me back. I am by no means a real writer so I hope you will forgive any grammatical and literary flubs that you see. Further, given that this little piece had close to five years of gestation, many of the cultural referents will be off - for example, many of the songs used in the story are not current but in the story they're treated as if they were, yet at the same time other songs are really current songs. I hope you will forgive the temporal mismatch here, and try and enjoy the story despite this. Apologies also if the quoted lyrics are wrong - I got most of them off the net, or from my own memory - I didn't get them off official sources. So, without further ado, here we go with the story. Hope you like... (Don't forget! Feedback please!!) ***** Part Two: Life Goes On In Part Two, we see how Danny copes with his condition, and how he, his sister Danielle, his family and friends cope, and how he ends up getting into his new thing - radio DJ. Hello, Nighthawk! Seven: Bras ***** (Danny) ***** After what felt like a long time, Mom came back. It turned out to be nothing. She had a nurse with her, and was carrying a little paper sack and a folder in her hand. We looked up. "Kids, this is Eleanor. She's a dietician, and she's here to talk with both you and Danielle." Eleanor smiled at us, and beckoned us to sit down with her. As I was sitting down, I pointed to the paper bag. "What's that, Mom?" "It's the results of your tests. And your medicine. Dr. Roberts also gave me the prescription for them. Also, we went and set up your appointments. Your checkup, as well as your session with the psychiatrist, will be Fridays, starting at five in the afternoon." "Okay, if you think I need to." "It's no big deal, hon. Doctor says he just wants to make sure you're okay through all of this." Eleanor turned out to be a very friendly nurse. She asked both me and Danielle about our eating habits and our activities. We told her that we were both very active, and have always had extremely healthy appetites. She sighed. "Oh, you two don't know how lucky you are." Both of us shrugged. She advised us to exercise regularly at least twice a week - bicycle riding, swimming or jogging would be good - and to increase our carbohydrate intake. Mom rolled her eyes. "Don't encourage them," she said. Eleanor was being serious. She said we should have more carbohydrates in our diet. Without neglecting fiber and protein, of course. Before leaving, she left a set of pamphlets for us to read, and a small business card with her number. She waved goodbye, shook hands with Mom and left. Mom briskly rubbed her hands. "OK, then. Let's get cleaned up and get checked out. Let's get to the mall since you guys have to get some exercise outfits." Danielle clapped her hands at the thought of shopping. I groaned. "Oh, Mom. Do we have to?" "Young man, be quiet and just pack your things." We were soon riding in Dad's car, heading out to the mall. Danielle and I were both sitting at the back, arms over each other's shoulders, each wrapped up in our own thoughts. Mom was humming some tune known only to her as she drove. We had left the windows open, and let the warm breeze in. It whipped Danielle's and my hair into our faces. Danielle giggled, and held her hair back. I put on my baseball cap, reversed, and laughed. It was a nice day, and we were enjoying the ride. Mom found a parking space near the entrance, and we walked into the mall. Mom was much taller than either of us, and she was able to easily put her arm around my shoulder. I had my arm around her hip. Danielle led us to an aerobics shop, and we split up. I went to the men's section and picked up a nice pair of cross-training shoes. I wanted a pair in black, but they only had white available in my size (men's size five, can you believe it?). I dropped the pair in the cart, and picked up other stuff. Like some loose tank tops and a couple of sweatbands, thinking of my newly-long hair, and of how much I sweat. I also got a couple of cycling shorts, thinking it would be nice to ride my bike regularly again. I went in search of Mom and Danielle, and found them shopping for bras. Danielle had come back from the changing room with some sports bras in her hand that she got from a sale bin. She had about three in the same style, but in different colors. I went to her and made fun of her stuff. She stuck her tongue out at me. Mom was looking at the both of us in a funny way. She gestured to Danielle, and they whispered at each other - something about sizes. Danielle giggled, and Mom went back to the bins. She came back with about ten or more sports bras in a plainer style, and this time in solid blacks, whites and grays only. I looked at the both of them. "Lots of bras," I commented. Danielle giggled, and Mom started pushing Danielle's cart to the checkout for her. I followed with my own load. Mom paid for everything, and we followed Danielle into a series of shops. She would, from time to time ask for Mom's or my advice. Hard-pressed for an opinion, I would shrug and say that I didn't know anything about women's clothes. She would pout, as if I had just said I didn't like what she had picked, and would go back and get another. Girls... In one store, she would pick out an outfit and hold it against my torso. I protested, but she explained that she wanted to see how it looked, and since there were no full-length mirrors or changing rooms, and I was her size... "Mom!" I protested. Mom refused to comment. I stomped out of the shop and looked for the nearest bookstore. I decided to cool off as well as get my weekly sci-fi fix, and thumbed through the new selections. There was this little nerdy guy, not much taller than me, who chatted me up. We had a good time talking about Tolkien and Frank Herbert. But when he asked if I wanted a soda or something... He thought I was a girl! When I responded with stony silence, he sort of slunk away. I fumed, but my anger slowly gave way to depression. After what seemed like hours, Danielle and Mom found me still there, my nose in some classics by William Gibson and "drugstore" type stuff by C.J. Cherryh. Mom saw through my fake smile, and decided to buy me a couple of books to cheer me up. After a short snack at the food court, we decided to go home. Danielle was skipping on ahead of us on the way to the car, two humungous shopping bags swinging against her legs. Mom had bought me five pocketbooks as well as the shoes and clothes. I felt a little guilty about it so I gave Mom a little hug. "Thanks for the stuff, Mom. And I'm sorry for getting angry." She kissed me on the top of my head. "You're welcome, Sonny Jim," she said in her best Irish voice, and tousled my red hair. She sounded as genuine as my old uncle from Ireland. I laughed. The ride back was sunny and nice and uneventful, my little tantrum all but forgotten, it seemed. Danielle and I went to our rooms and put away our new stuff. At dinner, Danielle and I decided on a jog in the morning. I fell asleep reading the latest sequel in the Uplift series from David Brin. The following Saturday morning, Dad was waking me up from the first sound sleep I've had in a while. The doctor's assurances had eased my mind incredibly, and I had a very pleasant night's sleep. At the hospital, I had taken to lying on my back when sleeping, instead of on my side. It felt more comfortable when I did. So when I opened my eyes, I found myself looking straight up at Dad's face. "Good morning, sleepyhead," he said, disgustingly wide awake. "Whassup?" I mumbled. "Time for your jog, Dan," he said, and pulled away my blanket. I moaned but got up. I put on shorts and my new sneaks, not bothering to put on socks, and I yawned with a bone-cracking yawn. I took off the shirt I was wearing, opened my drawer and put on one of my new tanktops. I looked at my reflection and stopped. Danielle walked into my room, apparently having been awakened by Dad, too. She was wearing a new loose tanktop, not unlike mine, over her new yellow sports bra, capri-length bicycle pants and a new pair of running shoes. Just the right outfit for her for a leisurely summer jog. She caught me looking at myself. "What's up," she said. I mutely pointed at my reflection, and she looked into my mirror. My breasts were clearly outlined in the shirt, and the side of my left breast could clearly be seen from the large opening on the side of the shirt. I was about to cry again, and that upset me more. I seem to find myself crying all the time. Danielle walked up to me and gave me a strong stinging slap. I looked at her in shock. She looked at me in anger, but I could also see compassion deep in her green eyes. "I know this is hard on you," she said. "But you gotta suck it up. The only way to get through all of this is to be strong. No more wimping out , Dan. Either face this head-on or, or..." "Danielle..." She hugged me around my neck, and whispered. "I will be here for you, but you gotta do this for yourself. Be strong. I know you are. You can get through this, I swear. But you gotta be the one to do it." "I'll, I'll try..." "Good boy," she said. She wiped away my tears, and dragged me by the hand to her room. She led me to her dresser, and she took out the black, white and gray bras that we bought yesterday. I looked at her with a question. "These aren't for me," she said. "The size is too small. Mom actually bought them for you." "But, but..." She held a finger across my lips. "Enough of that. With your new breasts, you're gonna need these. In fact, you're gonna need a lot more of these." She randomly picked the gray one, and demonstrated how to wear it. I put it on, noting that it was like putting on a very tight but stretchy tank. It sort of pinched my boobs, so Danielle taught me how to adjust my breasts in them. "Does it fit?" she asked. "I took a chance on the size. Bras really have to be tried on to make sure the fit's right." After putting it on properly, I put my loose tanktop over it. The bra felt snug but comfortable, my breasts sort of squashed down. I shook my chest, and the breasts didn't jiggle. Much. Danielle got a scrunchie and tied back her hair. I combed out my hair, put on my terrycloth headband, and we headed out. God, we were in poor shape. But we did manage about two laps around our little suburban neighborhood. The bra felt okay, especially with the support it gave. But, although it was comfortable, the gray of the bra was clearly seen through my rapidly drenched tank. And people can just get a glimpse of it through the arm holes as I swing my arms. Next time, I'm gonna wear a thicker shirt with sleeves, and I'm gonna make sure colors match. There were others jogging, too. A couple of guys we didn't know tried chatting us up, but both of us couldn't spare the breath. Danielle smiled, obviously flattered, but I resolutely kept my eyes facing forward, a blush spreading on my cheeks. When we couldn't take any more, we headed home. We staggered up our front steps, and fell on the front deck. "I look like a girl, don't I?" I asked Danielle without preamble. "Just a little bit." Huff! "Bullshit. I look like a girl. Those two guys..." Danielle was trying to catch her breath. "Listen..." Puff! "Those guys saw what they were expecting to see." Puff! "And they were expecting to see a girl." "What if I change my hair again? Get a crewcut?" Huff! "Do you think it'll make a difference now?" She shook her head. "I hate to say it, Dan, but look at you. Do you think it'll make a difference?" I looked down at my bra outlined in the wet shirt. "I don't know..." "You're on the mend, now. Like the doctor says." Puff! "But, for now, you gotta grit your teeth and bear it. It'll get better." She grinned suddenly. "Besides, I don't understand why you're complaining. You're a babe, Danny-boy!" I looked at her and smiled in gratitude for her support and her humor. Then I had a bright idea. I did my best Bimbo Betty. "Do ya think so? Do ya rilly, rilly think so?" I matched it with a sexy jiggle. Or as sexy as I could manage, being as wiped out as I was. Danielle exploded in laughter. I went on with some more bubble-headed prattle, and had Danielle belly-laughing helplessly. "Dan, stop! Please stop! I can't take much more..." I took pity on her and desisted. Her laughs faded and we both grinned at each other wanly. I touched her cheek. It's because of these things that made me realize that I loved my sister very much. We hugged and helped each other up the steps and into the house. "Hang in there, Dan," she said. "Just hang in there. We'll make it." I had taken to wearing my sports bras everywhere. I asked Mom to buy me a lot of plain white ones (I couldn't get myself to buy them on my own), and I continued wearing my loose shirts to camouflage the bra and my little babies. Dad knew about the bras but didn't say a word. I loved him for that. In fact, he drove Mom and Danielle to the mall to buy them, never saying a word and making fun of me. Not long after, though, I found out that I had to change all of my new bras for bigger ones. Surprisingly, Mom and Dad made no protests at all and bought me new ones. The bras did get my still-growing now-larger-than-average b-cup babies flattened out a bit, and they didn't jiggle much anymore. I tried binding down my tits with an Ace bandage once, but by the end of the day I started to itch something awful. So I went back to my bras. I just made sure to wear thick loose shirts over them. At least someone was enjoying my predicament. Danielle was all giggly and friendly ever since I started wearing bras. And she started acting all weird on me, especially at home. When we're eating, like dinner or whatever, she'd sit right beside me instead of her usual place across from me, and sit uncomfortably close. Near the end of the meal, we'd almost always find each other grabbing for the last piece of cake or roll, drumstick or chicken dumpling, or whatever. I felt she was doing it deliberately, timing it so we'd end up with the last piece. To avoid an argument, I'd usually let her have it, and she'd thank me with a little kiss on the cheek, faintly flavored with whatever we were eating at the time. Yuck! When we're watching TV in the living room, she'd insist that I braid her hair. I didn't know how so she demonstrated on my hair. By then it was down to my shoulders, long enough to be braided. So I would braid her hair just to get out of having my own hair messed with. Many times, she'd insist on doing our homework together and we'd end up staying up late working in the living room or in the kitchen. But we did find these "study sessions" helpful. Our grades were never this good. Much later, I even found out that she had switched lockers with Marlee Jones, the geeky little freshman with the perpetually smudged glasses (I don't know how she managed that!) so that she would get the locker next to mine. I also had this funny feeling that she wanted me to start dressing up in girl clothes again. Many times, right after she did the laundry, I'd find her lingerie mixed in with my shorts, and I'd sheepishly hand her the underwear. She'd make a giggly remark about being sorry for making the mistake, and I'd shake my head. Many times she had asked me to come along with her and her friends as they went shopping for clothes. I found it extremely uncomfortable to be around lingerie and pantyhose, and her friends found it weird for me to be there too, to say the least. I ended up knowing a little more than I wanted to know about women's underwear, and the girls were getting used to me being around, too. I wasn't too happy about cutting time out with my buds, though. Once I asked Danielle if Morgan and the others could go with us on one of their shopping trips. Danielle said it was just for girls, not for icky boys. Morgan and I looked at each other, and we just shrugged it off. Lately, after school, she would come into my room without knocking, and sit on the bed while I did my homework, or practiced with my guitar or fooled with my Vaio, and she'd talk about things - inconsequential stuff, but stuff that seemed important to her: her friends, school, homework, gym class, TV shows, music, makeup. And boys, for God's sake! Just to get out of responding, I would make noncommittal grunts, most of the time, though deep inside I found her prattle interesting - like getting a glimpse of what and how a girl really thinks. I overdid the uninterested bit once, and she started crying and stormed out of my room. I went after her, a bit shocked, and found her bawling in her room. I asked what was wrong. "If you don't want me around, just say so!" she sniffed. "What are you talking about?" "It's just that you're not interested in the things I say. You ignore me all the time! You probably think I'm such a ditz." "No, I don't," I said. "I think you're one of the smartest people I know. And you're beautiful and friendly, and funny. I like being with you." Which was all true. "You're just saying that." I sat beside her and hugged her close. She turned away. "No, I'm not," I said. "Then why don't you want to go shopping with me? Why don't you wanna hang out with me? I thought we were starting to get to know each other better. Why don't you wanna talk to me?" I sighed. "Danielle, I like talking with you, and I do wanna hang out with you and your friends. But I don't wanna get caught by my buds in the lingerie section buying panties with you. I'm a guy, Danielle! What will Morgan and the others say?" "You can say you're with me." "Come on, Danielle. I don't want to get a reputation for being a perv." She sniffled a little, and sort of smiled at me. I thought I was in the clear, and then I said, "your time of the month, huh?" She slapped me. I continued to take my pills, and was impatient for them to start taking effect. In the meantime, life went on. Using a letter from Dr. Roberts, Mom got me exempted from gym class. But everything else was the same. Everything was back to normal, or at least I tried to behave like everything was normal. One thing I noted was that my body was still far from normal. Still no body hair to speak of. Skin as sensitive as before. And it felt like it had actually gotten softer. And, despite regular exercise, I didn't gain that much extra weight, except around my hips. I was starting to notice I was becoming bottom-heavy, so I told my dietician about the problem. She said that my carbohydrate-rich diet will tend to do that, and then she had me switch to a much more conventional diet and took out the Vitamin B supplements from my list. It slowed the expansion of my butt. Danielle, however, was looking sexier than ever, with firm calves, slimmer waist and an incredible ass. After a while, I noticed that I had started developing some muscles. Not Schwarzenegger muscles, mind you. But muscles nonetheless. I could now benchpress close to twice my weight, and could now run several circuits of the neighborhood without fainting. I tried a couple of bodybuilding poses in front of the mirror, but to no avail. No definition at all in my abs, shoulders and upper arms. Too stringy muscles under too much subcutaneous fat. I was getting more and more frustrated with the slow progress of my pills, so I was thinking of getting a crewcut again, to offset whatever visible feminine traits I was showing. But I decided against it because Nikki said she liked the hair the way it was. She thought it was sexy. Hey! Her words, not mine! There were two other things I noticed. One was that, though the rapid growth of my breasts had slowed down a lot (they were now larger-than- usual b-cups), they were more sensitive. And when I was turned on, so were my breasts. And obviously so. My nipples would harden at the most inopportune times. Once, Ms Jarret, our sexy substitute English teacher, came in wearing an extremely, umm, petite skirt. When she bent over to erase something on the board, all male eyes reacted. Me, too. I imagined Beavis and Butthead going, "Boinngg!" or Wayne and Garth going "schwinng!" But the thing was, my nipples also went "Boinngg!" The rubbing of the bra slowly drove me out of my mind, so I had to excuse myself to go to the bathroom and splash water on my face. At least I wasn't becoming gay. Of that I was sure. But another thing I noticed, though I wasn't 100% sure, was that my prick had become larger. In the flaccid state, it looked like it did before. But when I'm aroused, I felt it was larger than before. Junior had about an extra inch on him now as well as being thicker, though I wasn't sure. A few plusses with the minuses, I thought. I'd been meaning to ask my doctor about it, but I was too embarrassed. I also wanted to give my new and improved equipment a test drive, especially with Nikki. But I didn't want to mess up the new relationship I was starting to develop with her. We had started to get closer after the audition, and I was happy enough for now. Also, if ever we do it, I wanted it to be special. Nikki was a special person. And, the truth was, being a virgin, I was scared to even try. The weekly sessions with my shrink did help to settle my mind. I accepted that my problem was largely just a physical thing, and it wasn't anybody's fault. We did talk a lot about gender identity and body and self image and, yes, penis envy and all of that Freudian crapola. When I started feeling comfortable around Dr. Jessup, I did end up talking about my concerns about my body and my mind more directly. And she said there was nothing to worry about. Aside from the softer skin and the boobs, my highly emotional state was also brought on by the hormone thing. About my penis, she suspected it was because of my medicine. Apparently, my pills contained synthetic male hormones, but not the synthetic steroids that athletes abused and had all of these scary side effects. But it did have its own side effects, one of the major ones was a mild kind of vascular dilation in the extremities, coupled with another side effect - a mild kind of priapism, i.e. uncontrollable boners. Well, at least I was able to confirm that Mr. Willy really started to become bigger. Once, Dr. Jessup jokingly asked to see it. I froze, and she laughed. Even with such questions, it was easy to get comfortable around her. She was completely open and friendly, and didn't mind talking about anything at all. She was also quite pretty, in a mature kind of way, but not overly so, so as to be unapproachable. And I was sure she wasn't telling my folks the things we talk about (I checked). So I began to open up more. I felt comfortable enough to even talk about my fears of becoming gay. "Well," she said, "are you turned on by guys?" "No!" But my answer was a little too fast for her. "Hold on, Dan," she said. "Don't answer too quickly. Think about it a little bit. Just think about the possibility of being attracted to boys. Just the possibility." I thought about it. "I don't know, Doc. It sorta feels wrong, somehow. Like it's not natural." "How do you feel about being with a girl?" I grinned. "Sure! I mean, why not?" "Got your eye on anyone special?" "Well..." She grinned. "Okay. You do. So, why do you like this girl so much?" I thought it over. "Well she's very pretty..." She waved her hand impatiently. "Yes, yes. But other than the physical aspect, what else do you like about her?" "Umm, she's bright and nice, and kind, and, and..." "Don't stop." "Uh. She's a very helpful person. And she likes me. And she does things for me. Like let me copy her homework, and stuff. Like giving me the last jello-pudding in the cafeteria. Small things, I know. But, taken together..." She laughed. "Okay, okay. So what about you? What would you like to do with her?" I cleared my throat. "Umm, well, aside from the usual..." I grinned. "Like go on dates. Or give her stuff, so she'll like me. Do things for her." "Okay. What else?" This was starting to make me uncomfortable. "Umm. You know, things..." "Such as?" "Well, the usual..." I looked at her face. She was forcing me to say it. "All right! I wanna make it with her! Okay? Satisfied?" She made a patting gesture. "All right, Dan. Simmer down." I took a deep breath, and made myself calm down. She jotted a few things in her notebook. "Think about what you're going to say before saying it," I thought to myself, "and don't get agitated." "This is just a mental exercise, Dan. Nothing personal. Okay?" This session was getting pretty intense. "Okay." "Let's look at it from a girl's point of view. Try to put yourself in her shoes." "Kay." "Close your eyes. It'll help." I obediently closed my eyes. "Okay. Imagine yourself a girl." I frowned at that, but I complied. "Imagine you are a sexy teenage girl. Very pretty, with a lot of guys chasing after you. Try and imagine a specific girl that you know, that's like that, and imagine yourself to be her." I tried but found it really hard. "You got her in your mind?" "Wait a sec." I tried again, and the person who came to my mind was Danielle. I imagined her in her exercise outfit, jogging in slow motion, ponytail swinging on her back. "Okay." "Now, imagine her going out on a date. Imagine a guy that she'll like. What kind of guy would that be?" I thought a bit. "Well, he has to be a tall guy, cute, into sports, and, well, I don't really know what a girl really wants. I can assume a lot from the stuff you hear and what you see on TV. I mean, I don't really know!" I was babbling. She waved impatiently. "Wait, wait! Not the clich? stuff. Imagine you as the girl. What would you want?" I kept my eyes tightly shut. "I can't!" She patted my hand. "You're trying too hard. Breathe! Calm down." I took several deep breaths. "Relax!" I forced my muscles to unclench. "Now, are you relaxed?" she asked after a few moments. I nodded. Later on, I will recall hearing a soft click. "Let's try again. You are a girl. You are with your girlfriends. You are talking with them about school. About an upcoming test. About what's on TV tonight. About many, many things." I pictured it in my mind's eye. Me as Danielle talking with Nikki and the others on the steps. I had my arms around my books. Nikki was telling me about the English test in the afternoon, and if I had reviewed enough. "Now," Dr. Jessup, said. "The discussion turns to the upcoming dance." I frowned a little bit, but was game to try it her way. "Your friends tell you that they have dates already." I smiled, imagining Nikki talking about the cute Daniel Fairchild, and how it would be fun to go to the dance with him. Hah! Talk about wishful thinking. "The discussion drifts to what all of you would be wearing." I imagined me in a dress similar to the wedding dress I wore to the Halloween contest. "You tell them how you will be dressing up." I my mind's eye, I tell them about details of my dress and my makeup. "You tell your friends how beautiful you'll look, and how your date will go crazy over you." I imagine myself arm-in-arm with a tall guy as he walks me to the middle of the dance floor. "You tell them how much fun it will be." I hear Drew giggling. "They tell you about their own dates, but you tell them that your own boyfriend is so much better." I imagine the start of an argument, as I tell them about my boyfriend. "But your friends kid you about how much you are in love with him. And you laugh with them." I hear Danielle's sweet laughter mingling with theirs. My laughter. "Then the bell rings and you have to go back to class." I hear the bell and I dust myself off to walk back. I keep my books close to me. But Dr. Jessup wasn't talking anymore. I frowned, waiting for her to bring this somewhere. After a while, I open my eyes and look at her, puzzled. "What happens next?" "What do you think happens next?" "Huh?" "That was it Dan. That's my experiment." I frowned at her, feeling a little shortchanged. She put down her little notebook. "Now," she said. "Let's get into what happened." I sat up. "Okay." "Did you get a clear picture?" "Umm, yeah?" "Give me details. I take it you were sitting down with your friends. Who were they?" "Drew was there... and Nikki." Where were you, exactly?" "Sitting down in the front steps of school." "Who were you?" "I was Danielle." She jotted down something. "And what did you talk about?" "We talked about the English exam coming up on Monday." "What else?" "About a dance coming up. Wait a minute, what dance? There's no dance..." She interrupted me. "Who are Nikki and Drew going with?" "Drew's going out with Dale, my band's base player." "Nikki?" I smiled. "Nikki's going out with me. I mean, she's going out with Dan." "And then what else did you talk about?" "We talked about what we'd be wearing. I'm gonna be wearing a very sheer short white dress." "Yes?" "I'm going to be wearing high heels, but I have to be really careful so I don't hurt my partner on the dance floor." "You like him a lot, huh? Your boyfriend." "Oh sure! He's so nice! He's so cute and he loves me so much." "What are the things that you like about him?" "Oh, he's so cute! He's so smart and is great with everyone. He pays attention to me, and listens to what I have to say. He does things for me, and doesn't ask for anything in return." "Anything else?" "Oh, he's just so sweet and kind, like he doesn't make me do anything I don't want to. He's everything I want to be. He dresses so cool, and rides a bike, it makes him so cool... Wait a minute... A bike?" "What is it, Dan?" "Umm.. nothing. It's just..." I heard a click, and suddenly recalled a click before. I suddenly stopped, shocked at myself. "Good god!" "What, Dan?" "What have I been saying? What..." "Take it easy, dear." "But, but..." "Don't worry about it. I didn't make you gay or anything like that. I just put you into a little trance and did a little auto-suggestion." She held up a little device that looked like an old-style Walkman. "See this?" She passed it to me. I turned it over and over in my hand, and breathed a little sigh of relief. So, I was hypnotized. "Is this a tape recorder?" I passed it back, recalling the second-hand portable tape recorders I saw on sale at thrift shops. "More like a cassette player," the doctor said, "because it cannot record. No, this is what's called a white noise generator. It does what we used to use pendulums for. This generates a sort of static sound, what is called white noise, and it helps put people into a more receptive state for hypnotic suggestions. The way pendulums do." "You hypnotized me." "No, dear. I just made you more relaxed and more open to suggestion. And it worked, didn't it? You did find yourself opening up." "Umm..." "Now, what did you learn? What did that little imaginary talk with your friends tell you?" "Umm, that, umm, that girls like guys that are cute, that pay attention to them. That does things for them. That are nice and kind. Umm..." "Well?" "Well, it's exactly the same as what guys like. Basically." "Good. What else?" "But, Doc, this is me! I'm not gay! And, besides, these are what I think girls like. I could be wrong, you know." "Exactly. It's what you think guys and girls are like. But, what is important here is what you think, and everyone else's opinions are beside the point. "Still, you have to give yourself some credit. You are right on the mark. Fundamentally, in this situation, men and women have the same basic desires. In your unique position, it gives you a better insight into both the male and female psyche. I am not surprised that you came to this realization so easily." She looked at me with one of her "significant" looks. "Though I don't think you have any homosexual tendencies, well not more than other boys at least. At this point, in finding out what makes you happy, gender is immaterial. You can use this new insight to become a better person. You can use it to become a happier person." I was quiet for a little while. "But there seems to be something else," she said very perceptively. "Umm, the guy? My 'boyfriend?'" "Yes, Dan?" "I think it was Morgan!" Saying it out loud made me freak out all the more. Dr. Jessup patted my hand. "Calm down, Danny. Deep breaths." "Am I really straight? Or do I have the hots for my best friend?" She calmed me down, and asked me to lie back. "Morgan's your best friend?" I nod. "Among your buddies, you like him best?" I nod again. "So, isn't it only natural that, if you were forced to pick someone for a boyfriend, which was what I did, wouldn't it be natural for you to pick him?" "I guess..." She sounded so reasonable... I hated it. "Don't read anything into it, Dan." I didn't have the courage to go on, and explain my fears. That thinking of Morgan, in that way, was exciting, in a vague sort of way. That night, I waved at Danielle watching TV in the living room, and clomped upstairs to my room. I didn't see Mom. I undressed as usual and shotputted my clothes into the hamper. I caught my reflection in the full-length mirror tacked to my cabinet. I was used to my sports bra now, and it didn't freak me out too much to see myself in a bra anymore. I swiped at my longish red hair and tucked it behind my ear. I hooked my thumbs in the waistband of my briefs and pulled it down, tossing it into the hamper as well. I looked at my dick and lifted it in my hand. It IS larger, I thought, and smiled, wondering if I would be able to show it to Nikki. With those pleasantly lecherous thoughts, I started to get excited and it started to twitch. Suddenly, out of the blue, I imagined me and Morgan having sloppy sex with each other, and was so shocked at myself that my growing hard-on suddenly disappeared. I sighed, pulled the bra over my head and tossed it into the brimming hamper. I put my hands on my hips and looked at my completely-nude body in the mirror. I ran my hands over my arms, hips and legs, and noted how soft everything was. And I still didn't have any body hair. What body hair I had was limited to the sparse thatch at my groin. Well, at least I didn't have a permanent ten-o-clock shadow like Dad, I thought as I started to inspect my face. I also noted that I had stopped gaining inches around my hips since I switched diets, but with my narrow waist, they still flared out. I turned around to look at my ass. Seems the fat there wasn't disappearing, too. I clenched my buttocks and I fancied that my ass looked like Mel Gibson's, and would drive chicks wild. I turned around again and looked at my chest. The growth of my breasts have thankfully started to slow down, but they were definitely bigger than they were a week ago. They were big enough that I could lift them up now, which I did. I let them go and they bounced. I sighed. Maybe it's time to get new bras. ***** (Danielle) ***** I opened the door to Dan's bedroom and I caught him fooling around. He was lifting his breasts up, checking out their size, apparently. After a moment, he let go and they jiggled up and down. I giggled at the sight. I cleared my throat and said, "Hi, Gorgeous!" Dan looked around and saw me. He dived for his bed, and pulled the bedclothes around him. "Danielle," he said, embarrassed and indignant. "Don't you ever knock?" He stood in front of the mirror and glared at me. "Well, if you were playing with yourself, you could have at least locked your door." "I wasn't playing with myself. I was, umm, changing." "Sure," I snickered. "But I was," he protested. "Simmer down, little brother." I closed the door behind me and locked it. His eyebrows rose in alarm "If you want me to be fair about it, I could take off my clothes, too." I had my hand on the buttons of my blouse. Dan blushed crimson. "Ahhh. No need. I forgive you. Now leave me alone so I can get dressed in peace." "But, Danny," I said, acting contrite, "I insist. It's the least I could do to apologize for barging in on you." I couldn't help but smile at his embarrassment as I pulled my blouse free of my skirt's waistband, and unbuttoned it. I threw the blouse away from me and unzipped my skirt. I took off my shoes and slid my pantyhose down. "Danielle!" Danny was becoming unglued. I continued to take off everything, and stood in front of him buck naked. He was shaking and had his eyes tightly closed, his hands covering his face. The bedclothes fell to the floor but Dan didn't take his hands from his face to wrap them around him again. "Danny," I said softly, trying to pull his hands gently away from his face, but he resisted. "There's nothing to hide from each other. We have to learn to be comfortable being around each other. We're twins, after all. It's okay. Besides, you've seen me naked before." He shook his head. "Danny!" "No. Nope. Uh-uh." "Daniel Fairchild! Look at me!" I managed to pry his hands away, but he kept his eyes shut tightly. "I'm not going to leave your room until you look at me," I said in my sweetest voice. He slowly opened one eye, but when he got a look he shut them tight again. "I'm waiting, Daniel." He slowly opened his eyes and resolutely looked at the ceiling. I put my hands on the sides of his head and had him face the mirror. After a few more seconds, he gave up the fight and looked. We stood beside each other and looked at the reflections in the mirror. We stood there, transfixed, staring at each other. It was the first time we saw each other completely, and we could not believe how similar we looked. My nipples started to clench from excitement and, dare I say it, sexual anticipation. I wasn't sure, but I thought Daniel's did, too. I shifted my gaze from his face to mine, and then back again. I noticed him doing the same. Though my makeup was very light, it was enough to make us look like different people. I stooped and picked up my blouse and wiped my face as best I could, wiping off most of what little makeup I had on. I looked in the mirror again but, besides the little that remained that I couldn't rub off, we could see that we shared the same face. The same green eyes, perky nose, high cheekbones and expressive mouth, though his lips were a lot more pouty than mine. I looked at his eyes and smiled. He cocked his head to the side and smiled back gently. I continued to study our reflections. We were just about the same height, but he was just a trifle taller - almost inconsequential, actually. Dan was just a smidge thinner, too, and had hair down to his shoulders whereas I had hair down to the middle of my back. My hair was styled with highlights and some subtle curls, and Dan had a natural color, curl and body to his. I had fuller, more voluptuous curves and Dan had less, but with more than enough curves at the right places to make him absolutely sexy, in fact, paradoxically, even sexier than me. And my breasts were full, still-growing C's and Dan's were smallish C's (or larger-than-usual B's - I wasn't sure), but they had grown since the last time I saw them - he'd probably be as big as me soon. He reached across and shyly touched my left breast. His shy hands felt like butterflies, and I gasped. That momentary touch sent a thrill through me. My nipples stiffened involuntarily. His hips were a not as wide as mine and not quite so curvy. But still very, very sexy. I ran a hand over one silky-soft curved hip, and Dan shivered a little. I turned us both around, and looked at our rears. I looked at his oh-so-sexy butt. Mel Gibson, eat your heart out. Or should I say Jennifer Lopez. In my opinion, his ass could make any boy, or girl for that matter, salivate on command. I couldn't stop myself so I pinched the right cheek. I giggled as Dan slapped my fanny. I felt my pulse quicken. It was like he was an incredibly sexy girl. It felt like his sex appeal was a palpable aura, coming off him in gentle but irresistible waves. I'm sure anyone would be turned on by him, whether guy or girl. It was irresistible. Or was it just me? I took his hand and turned us both around. We looked at each other's crotch. Of course you couldn't see much with mine, but when I looked at his crotch, I gasped a little. "Oh my God," I whispered. "What?" He sounded a little panicked "Your... thing, Dan. It's big." He smiled with a little pride. "Don't get me wrong. I've seen bigger,..." That deflated his ego a little. "But it is big, especially for someone like you." "Does it, umm, look okay?" He sounded worried. "It looks fine!" I reached out with my right hand and stopped. "May I touch it?" He looked nervous. "If you want to..." I put my hand around the shaft of the penis, my pinky just behind the flared head, and my index finger almost touching his balls. It felt incredibly warm and silky. Wonderful. And I felt it stir to life. I let go quickly, like I was scalded. Dan looked down, shamed. "I'm sorry, Danielle, I..." I put a gentle hand on his cheek. "No, Dan, It's okay. It's my fault, not yours." He smiled at me with a gentle, rueful smile. I bent and picked up my clothes, and put everything back on, including my dirty blouse. He wrapped the bedclothes around him again. When I was dressed, I smiled at him again, reached out, put my hand on the back of his head and pulled him to me so I could give him a sisterly kiss on the lips. "See you at dinner," I whispered in his ear, and walked to my room. I stepped into my room, trembling as I started to lose control. I locked the door and went to my own floor-length mirror. I had to brace myself on its frame as I let go of control and let my excitement roll though me. I was breathing heavily, and looked at my flushed face. I brought my right hand to my nose and smelled Dan's musky masculine scent, and, though very faint, it excited me incredibly. I quickly stripped and looked at my naked body, imagining it was Danny I was looking at. I continued to sniff my hand and rubbed my breast with my other one, and remembered Dan's gentle, frightened touch. I started to feel moisture build up in my crotch, and I rubbed my thighs together. I moaned as I started to feel the beginnings of my arousal. I mauled my breasts and pinched and pulled at my nipples, cooing in pleasure and excitement. I jumped into my bed face down, and started to frantically rub my pussy. I ran my hand beside my little button, not touching it directly, and continued pulling on my nipples. I groaned as the orgasm was about to start. I brought my hand down to my crotch and collected some moisture to rub on my breasts. It felt so good, I couldn't stand it. I was starting to lubricate profusely. In my mind, I imagined I was making love to Dan, or he was making love to me. Oddly enough the image was interchangeable, and I could be either. I sucked at the juices on my fingers and then brought them down again to my slit. I stuck two fingers into my outrageously wet pussy as I exploded in ecstasy. I buried my face in my pillow otherwise someone might hear me. The waves of pleasure washed over me again and again, and I moaned into the pillow. After what felt like hours, the waves of ecstasy abated. I haven't had sex with anyone yet - well, not all the way at least - but I've masturbated many times before. These were the strongest orgasms I've had. Ever. I put a pillow between my legs and squeezed on it, and had another mini-orgasm. I sighed, and fell into a light sleep, thoughts of Dan and me swirling in my mind. ***** (Daniel) ***** As soon as Danielle left, I leaped to the door and locked it. I threw off the blankets and jumped on my bed. I frantically pumped my dick, and it became as stiff as a rock. My head was filled with an image of me fucking my sister. Panting, I used my other hand to fondle my breasts. I was so turned on, I couldn't believe it. I frantically looked around and saw the jar of hair styling gel on my dresser. I jumped up, grabbed the jar and jumped back to bed. I put some of the gel on my penis and rubbed it up and down frantically. I fancied that my fist had more to pump now. I pulled on my nipples as I read some women do, and I felt a jolt of pleasure. Like a trigger, that set me off and I shot my load. I experienced an incredible orgasm that felt like it lasted hours, though it probably only lasted a minute or two. But, even so, I never heard of anyone coming for two whole minutes. I felt my penis jerk and jerk as it spurted cum, which then landed on my belly. I whimpered, my high voice sounding like a little girl. I squeezed my left breast painfully as I spurted and spurted. Amazingly, even after that incredible orgasm, I was still hard. I continued pumping my penis, but it wouldn't come as quickly as before. I ran my free hand over my hips, my side, the tops of my thighs. But I couldn't resist and brought my hand back to my breasts. I gently ran my hand over both of them, and arched my back in pleasure. I ran my hand through my hair and I rubbed my thighs together. I felt so sexy. In my mind, I continued imagining me and Danielle together. Then I imagined Drew and Nikki with us. I was fondling all three. I felt my excitement grow. Without my conscious control, the movie in my head changed as Danielle and Drew moved into the background. I caressed Nikki and laid her on the floor. I spread her legs and gently entered her. In the real world, my penis twitched in my hand and knew that I was finally ready. In my imagination, I started moving back and forth as I fucked Nikki. Danielle and Drew caressed my ass and my breasts and I felt my breath starting to come in short gasps. I imagined another set of hands, and in my mind's peripheral vision, I saw Morgan in the nude, also caressing my body. I was shocked yet I couldn't stop. In the real world, I moved my hand in a faster tempo. My other hand caressed my breasts more brutally. It felt so good! I tweaked my left nipple, and like before, I erupted like a geyser. Oooh! My dick pulsed in rhythmic contractions, and I spurted and spurted. I almost screamed, but I bit my lower lip to keep from screaming, but I couldn't stop whimpering. Like before, it felt like it lasted ages. I was delirious with my self-induced pleasure, and I collapsed back onto my bed. Incredibly, I wasn't done yet, and went for another one. And then another. Though I felt I could still go on, the urgency had disappeared. I decided to stop. It felt so wonderful, and I felt a post-orgasm glow that I didn't feel before. And I knew I was still up for more. I thought back, and wondered why. In the past, after cumming, that was usually it for me, at least for a while. I could get used to this - daisy-chained orgasms. But I started to wonder if this was normal. Reluctantly, I decided that that was it for the night. Maybe some other time, I'll explore the upper edges of this new "ability" of mine. Besides, I vaguely felt guilty, and felt a little dirty, wanking off over images of my own sister. Sorta like incest or something. These thoughts were like a bucket of cold water, and killed off whatever remaining horniness was left or was building up again. As I reluctantly stopped and came down from the orgasms, my breathing started to become normal. In my mind's eye, I could see Nikki's exhausted but happy smile. I wiped my brow, and swiped the sweaty hair from my face. I looked down and couldn't believe it. My lower belly was covered by my sperm. I rubbed it into my skin, and brought some of it to my mouth. It didn't taste so good but I found it incredibly erotic just the same. I suddenly sat up. I started to feel around to check if I soiled the bed, and found that I hadn't. I breathed a sigh of relief and got out of bed, being careful not to get cum on anything that would be stained, grabbed my shirt from the hamper and used it to wipe my hands, belly and breasts. I've masturbated before, but never like this. It felt like there must be buckets of it, though I was sure that it was only about a cup-full. But, you know, before, it would only be about a few tablespoons worth. I wondered if this too was normal. I continued to wipe the stuff off me, and marveled at how alive I felt. I then thought of Danielle, and suddenly felt shame. I had jacked off to my sister. Even worse was Morgan. Good God. I was some sort of twisted pervert. I looked out the window, and thought about Danielle and Morgan, more than Nikki, actually. I tried to figure out what all this means. But one thing was definite: this was one story I am not telling Doctor Jessup. I looked at my now-sticky shirt. I got a towel and a big terrycloth robe, and went to the bathroom. I left my shirt in the sink and had a thorough shower. When I felt clean, I stepped out of the stall and filled the sink to wash the shirt. I had to sort of scrape and squeeze the gobs of cum off into the toilet first though, and I shook my head in amazement a little. After washing my shirt, I then draped it on the shower's curtain rod, and finished squeezing and patting my hair dry - a routine that was now, with my now-longer hair, second nature. I wrapped the fluffy robe around me and padded downstairs to the washer-dryer. Mom wasn't around, and I wondered where she was. I ran my shirt through the dryer, pulled it out when it was done, folded it neatly and left it on top of the pile with my other newly-dried clothes that were ready for ironing. I then went to my room. I continued to dry my hair with the blowdryer Danielle bought me, and combed it out. Longer hair takes lots longer to dry, and more effort to comb out, so I took my time. No wonder girls went on and on about it. My brushing had fluffed it out too much - happens everytime - so I went to the bathroom and wetted it down a bit and combed my hair again, making it less poofy. I then put on a clean sports bra, a t-shirt and shorts, and sat cross-legged on my bed, thinking, alternating between shame and a wonderful afterglow. How could I possibly face Danielle now? And Morgan? I hugged my knees and slightly rocked myself. I heard Mom and Dad come in. From where I did not know. Mom knocked on my door, asking me to come down for dinner. I heard her knock on Danielle's door, too. I dreaded seeing Danielle, but was more afraid of not going and making my family think something's going on. I went down. Mom gave me a hung and a kiss, and I sat at my usual place. Dad patted my shoulder as he sat down, and Mom started putting out cardboard boxes from our favorite Chinese takeout on the table. I didn't have much of an appetite, thinking about Danielle. Mom felt my forehead and asked if I was okay. "I'm fine, Mom," I said, and reached out randomly for a cardboard box. It turned out to be crab rice, and I stuck my chopsticks in and started to eat. Mom's fears were allayed and she went back to eating. Mom explained that she didn't have time to cook. She had to pick up Dad because he had somehow left his car lights on, and couldn't get it started to go home. I shrugged, and told her I didn't mind takeout. Danielle came in, her hair combed back and tied into a messy ponytail. She had changed into a very loose button-down shirt over shorts and socks, and looked rested and very, very cheerful. She looked like someone from one of those vacation travel ads. She practically glowed. She gave Mom and Dad a hug, bussed my cheek and sat down beside me, uncomfortably close as usual. I raised an eyebrow at her and she looked at me quizzically. I shrugged and went back to my rice. I sniffed a little bit, and smelled something a little musky. Nothing major, but something definitely out of the ordinary. It was very faint, actually, and I wondered if it was just my imagination. I sniffed at my fried rice, but all I could smell from it was the green onions. The others didn't seem to notice anything. After all, it was extremely faint. I sniffed again. It seemed to be coming from Danielle. I looked at her cheerfully stuffing her face but she didn't notice my stare this time - she was concentrating on her food, not to mention the twin distractions of Mom and Dad talking to her. My eyes went wide. Danielle smelled like sex! Was she messing around at the same time I was? I inhaled deeply, and the family looked up at me. I was suddenly embarrassed, and turned my inhalation into an exaggerated yawn. "Sleepy, son?" Dad asked. "A little," I lied. "It's been a long day." "How did your doctor's appointment go today?" "Same old same-old." "Is she helping?" Mom asked. "I guess. She makes sense and all. But, I guess I'm having a hard time accepting everything." Danielle looked at me with compassion. "It's alright, Dan. It's gonna be okay. Give it time." I nodded my head. I was uncomfortably aware of her hand on my arm. "That's right, son. Give it time." "Okay." The rest of the dinner went as usual, except for my surreptitious stares at Danielle, and her goofy smiles at me. I was dying to know what she was thinking. Cleanup was a breeze this time, because Mom just dumped the boxes in the trash. "Tadah!" she said, gesturing at the suddenly-clean kitchen. Of course, no one was there anymore except for me. So I applauded her before going back upstairs. The following day was a Saturday. After our regular weekend jog, a shower and then breakfast, Danielle wanted me to join her and her friends to go shopping. I begged off and said I was doing something with the guys. She looked at me a little funny, a little wistfully actually, but didn't argue for once. She gave me one of her big-sister hug-and-a-kiss things and flounced out with Nikki and Drew. I breathed a sigh of relief and hurried to call Morgan to invent something to do today. Just in case. Ironically, we ended up shopping, too. I was carrying a couple of CDs, one with Alanis Morissette's "Hands Clean" (from the Sale bin) and another Santana's new album, and Morgan had a pair of old-style Nike Shox, also from the discount bin. And then we bumped into Danielle, Nikki and Drew. Danielle was loaded down with lots of parcels as usual, as were Nikki and Drew. Morgan offered to carry Drew's. Not wanting to be outdone, I offered to carry Nikki's, and Danielle automatically handed me Nikki's stuff along with hers. I staggered around a bit and Nikki giggled. I suggested dropping the stuff in my car, and then go and have a bite. We ended up in the food court, with me and Morgan each ordering a humungous pizza, and the girls ordering salads. Danielle was giving my pizza longing looks, so I smiled and put two big slices on her plate. She kissed my cheek and attacked the food. "You're so sweet," Nikki said. I smiled in delight that she noticed, but it soon turned into a frown when she patted my head like you would a puppy. The conversation was nothing special - just the usual stuff we talked about. After a while, Morgan started talking about his new hobby - collecting MP3 files over the web. He moaned about DRM, and how most of his favorite links were now dead or blocked. I didn't tell the girls it was me who introduced him to surfing for MP3 downloads, and let him have the limelight. I listened to him, resting my chin on my hand, and marveled at his soft yet masculine voice. I couldn't help but be envious, me with the chipmunk voice. He gestured in the air, making his points with wide gestures. He really knew how to express himself. I jerked up suddenly. "What am I doing, mooning over Morgan!" I thought. I blamed the Doc for putting the idea in my head. I excused myself to go to the restroom and splash water on my face. When I came back, the conversation had turned to school stuff, and how Nikki was having trouble with history. I offered to help her. Danielle elbowed me and gave me a wink. I gave her a moist raspberry. Raspberry? What was I, six? Nikki pulled on my sleeve and said, in a very soft and meek little-girl voice, that she'd appreciate any help. Of course I made a study date for the coming weekend, and she nodded acceptance and offered to make popcorn. Danielle elbowed me again, and I elbowed her back. She let out a loud "ouch." Eight: Nighthawk ***** (Danny) ***** Towards the end of school, some of us in our homeroom were recommended to take internships for the summer. Sort of to get some extra credit and offset any deficiencies in our records. For me, it was because of gym. Per my guidance counselor's advice, and because of my interest in music, I decided to do something in media, but all of the juicy internships were already taken. Danielle and a few others from her homeroom had already gotten the few available internship spots in our local TV affiliate. And the others had already gotten into the only local papers that were giving out internships. I didn't really want to try anything except in media, so I persisted in looking for something else. From my guidance counselor, I heard about an opening in KRPQ that no one had gotten wind of yet. That was because no one from the radio station went to the school to talk about the opening. Why, I didn't know. So I went and tried out as a production assistant - someone who's supposed to answer the phones for the DJ or host, queue up commercials and stuff, and act as the go-between for the DJ and the public. It was incredibly boring. And the station was the pits. Rundown office at the edge of town. Minimal staff. Five disk jockeys. Or rather, spinners. An empty receptionist's desk. Crappy seventies equipment. No CD players, for God's sake! Control panel on an old pool table, and homemade wiring. Jesus! I was interning for this disk jockey, Lou Jefferson II, who everyone called Jeff, but he didn't give me much to do. He was more a spinner than a DJ. He just queued LPs (LPs for god's sake! Talk about ancient!) and played them. Why they had a microphone in there I don't know. And calls? What calls? I didn't do anything the whole time. But the station did have an excellent collection of seventies and eighties records, most of them in pristine condition, clear of any scratches, pops and crackles. I bought an old turntable and used my old Xing MPEG/MP3 ripper to create my own MP3 versions. I used 360K encoding to preserve the nuances of the music. My current 5 gigs of stuff was growing. In a couple of week's time, I had several extra gigs of MP3s. Which translated into about eight hundred more songs in my Sony Vaio. It was here at the station that I got that break. During that one fateful night, Jefferson stepped out of the booth to go get a Coke or something. I asked him if I could go through the records in the booth, and he laconically said yes. I went in, and made the mistake of closing the door. It clicked shut. I turned at the sound, and made to open the door. The knob didn't turn, and I started to panic. I seem to remember someone telling me the door couldn't be opened from the inside without a key. I rattled the door again and it was truly and irrevocably locked. I heard a dull thump and saw through the glass that Jefferson had crumpled to the floor. I started banging on the glass. "Help! Anyone, help!" I hammered on the double-glazed semi-soundproof glass and door for what seemed like an eternity, and, by chance, the night watchman came into the room. "Hey, Jeff," the night watchman said, "what's up?" He saw Jefferson on the floor and ran to him. "I think he had some kind of fit!" I yelled through the glass. He looked up from what he was doing and saw me. "Who're you? And what are you doing in there?" "Never mind that! Call nine-one-one, quick!" He ran to the phone on the empty receptionist's desk and punched the numbers. "Goddamnit, it's a recording," he slammed the receiver down. "Go to the coat rack, and go through my jacket pocket. Get the keys. My car is the beat-up mustang parked outside. Get him to the emergency room. Hurry!" He lifted Jeff in a fireman's carry, grunting under the weight. "No more doughnuts for you, man." He looked to me. "Okay, little dude. You hold the fort. Me and Jeff are going to the hospital." "Okay, man," I gave him a thumbs up, and he staggered out the door. I felt relieved, and remembered. "Hey, wait! You forgot the..." The door slammed shut. "lock..." I suddenly realized that I was trapped and alone in the office. "Shit, oh shit, oh shit. Now what?" I looked at the turntable and the needle on the old LP. It had already gone through all the tracks, and it was on the last one. What to do? I looked at the large pool table-cum-mixing board. No phone - the only one inside the booth only allows incoming calls, as far as I can tell (I had tried it already). I casted about in the hopes of coming up with another way out of this. Jeezus! What a polish firedrill this is turning out to be. I looked at the turntable in panic. Okay, I said to myself, no choice. I took a deep breath and started to thumb through the LPs. Nothing new that I can see. Wait a minute, what was I expecting? These are LPs, after all, dammit. I pawed through everything, nothing catching my eye, so I started going through them again, this time a lot slower. I saw an album sleeve in fairly good condition. "Hmm." It was from John Cougar Mellencamp. That rings a bell. "Let's see," I mumbled, and went though the tracks. Okay let's try this. I took out the album and laid it on the other turntable. I identified the correct track and gently laid the needle at the beginning. I lightly stroked the surface of what I thought was the player's power switch and kept my other hand on the mike's toggle switch, setting the aux volume to about three-fourths of the maximum, hoping that was right. I hummed a few cords and tried to find a good voice to use. I settled for a variation of my regular guy-voice but higher, with a touch more gravel, and decided to give this guy a lot of attitude. I waited for the music to die down, and when the needle scratched out the last of the music, I took a deep breath and switched on. "Heeeeyah!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, a