Altered Fates: A Fragile Thing free porn video

Caution: This story contains sexual content, as well as a heck of a lot of cursing! ***Prologue*** A typical Saturday morning. The "Venice," a small ice cream parlor, which turned into a fine hot spot for the local youth in the evening hours, right next to the Rossman Bridge, the only remarkable sight of the small town. As always, they were sitting on the small, round table in the hindmost corner of the place. As always, it was the three of them: The guy with the wild haircut who halfheartedly stirred in his cappuccino was Walter. Due to the aforementioned hairstyle, people often called by his nickname, "Scraggy." He could live with that. In contrast to nerdier kids at college, whose nicknames were often close to cuss words, his was still kinda acceptable and the girls thought of it as cute. He was not among the bunch of popular guys and girls either, but being Scraggy, the dude who knew how to make a crowd cheer for his silly stories or jokes was just the right thing for him. Yet, his over the top happiness has faded during the last few weeks and nobody seemed to be able to cheer him up. Obviously depressed, he took sip after sip from his cup without saying anything. His buddy, Wilhelm, on the other hand could not decide if he should continue to fumble around with his hair or if he should finally begin to eat (or better drink) his meanwhile completely molten ice cream. Most of his friends tended to call him "Bushman." With his dreadlocks, the colorful Hawaiian shirts he wore often and his weakness for African jewelry, no other nickname could fit him better. He could also be sure that nobody was trying to offend him with that name. Standing incredible six foot six tall, you would have to be a real moron to try that. The third of them, Franky, the hipster of this small circle of friends, meanwhile drifted out of the ceasing conversation and into his dreams after spending most of the last night partying. One could only make assumptions about the current topic of his dreams. Scraggy thought that it must either be Rebecca, his current love interest that he was trying to impress for the last couple of days now without making any real advances, or the Ska concert that prevented him from getting enough sleep last night. ***Girls, Girls, Girls*** "You know what makes me sick to the bone?" Scraggy asked all of a sudden. Wilhelm turned a bit towards him without paying to much attention. He knew where this was going to. He would begin to agitate about his ex in 3, 2, 1.... "That bitch, Anja!" "What happened this time?" Wilhelm asked with a sigh. Franky seemingly preferred to meditate about Scraggy's tirade. "What happened you ask? Franky found out that she was making fun of me on her facebook profile! I really would love to put my hands around her neck right now. Yeah yeah, I know that's harsh and a dumb thing to say, but believe me, it would settle that backbiting affair once and for all!" He leaned back and a groan escaped his closed lips that reminded Wilhelm a lot of Marge Simpson. "You guys know that I try to get over her," Scraggy continued, "but how can I, as long as she keeps talking shit about me!?" Bushman nodded in silence. Nobody knew exactly what had happened between is best friend and Anja. Truth to be told, he thought that not even the both of them could exactly remember anymore why they hated each other. Walter, Frank and he were like the three musketeers. They were inseparable since kindergarten and would go through the fire for one another. Therefore, he was of course in favor for Scraggy's point of view. He knew from past happenings that his friend could be really awkward around girls and that many have rejected him for being the klutz he was at times. Giving him a bad reputation, however, was something his best friend surely didn't deserve. She went too far with that, and he gave Scraggy all the support he could, mostly by listening to his constant ramblings. Scraggy meanwhile tried to take Frank out of his trance once and for all. "Maybe I should get back with a... NUCLEAR STRIKE!" He shouted at the top of his lungs in Franks ear, which peeked out between his strong black hair and the David Guetta t-shirt. "Who..whea..wha!?" was Frank's spluttered reply, his bloodshot eyes widely opened. "My, my. Looks like somebody was on a date with good old Mary Jane as well!" Bushman said grinning. Scraggy just chuckled. "Oh guys..." Franky began, still irritated about his sudden awakening. "It simply helps me in order to not think about Rebecca all the time. You know that it bugs me!" Yes, the beautiful Rebecca was another quite delicate topic. She became Franky's newest love interest after he broke up with that Norwegian au pair girl. "Could you finally make it to second base? Any base?" Scraggy asked him. "Not in the least!" Frank answered. "That's the whole problem behind it. It always seems like we both go along just fine. Then, like a bolt from the blue, she loses her interest for the rest of the evening and-" "Well," Bushman interrupted him, "looks like I'm the only one who has a functioning relationship in this dump." Franky and Scraggy looked at each other annoyed. Not only couldn't they take any more of their friend's bragging, but they also had the bad feeling that he might be proud of a romance that was superficial at best. Bushman and his girlfriend, Nina, have been together for about six months now. Half a year in which Franky and Scraggy rarely saw them together. More often, Bushman went to a local pub with them, while Nina went clubbing through the night. All by herself, dancing to RnB and house rhythms and most likely being hit on and dancing with other guys on some occasions. Does this look like a functioning relationship? "Anyway," Scraggy began, "I have to leave now guys. I'm expecting some important mail today. Franky, just gimme a call if there's something more about Rebecca that you want to discuss." "Cheers bro! You guys are the best. Always a pleasure to hang out with you on a relaxed evening." "EVENING!?" Both of his friends asked him in a shocked tone. "You should really stay away from that pot. It's not even past ten AM!" "And you guys couldn't have told me that before I ordered that vodka- lemon?" The three of them burst out in laughter again. ***Treasure Chest*** Scraggy ran all the way back home, filled with immeasurable excitement. Last week, he bought a surprise package online from a Russian antiquities vendor, who simply wrote "Treasure" in his item description. The man promised to fill it up with a variety of odds and ends from his store in Saint Petersburg that he had to close down. Scraggy has always been fascinated by obscure artifacts and remains from the past. His whole room was filled with half-burned books from the days of yore and rusty medals that were given out in long forgotten wars. In his fantasy, those items told the most incredible stories. The best thing about his newest acquisition, however, was its price. Dimitri Koskorov, the Russian salesman, demanded not more than 20 Euros for his treasure box. He wondered how much money Dimitri actually made without shipping costs and taxes, which were already included in that ridiculously low price. "Whatever," Scraggy said to himself, as the other half of his mind was already busy with making up pictures of all those amazing objects that would enrich his collection. Hastily, he opened the door to his apartment. His father stood in the floor and brushed the dirt of an old winter coat. "Hey son, how was your-" "Did we get any mail? :-)" "I love you too, so-" "Did we get any mail or not? :-)" His father just sighed. "I already put it on your desk, just as you asked me to." "HELL YEAH! I'll be in my room then. See you again for supper, dad!" As his father asked himself if he should be happy with his son or scold him for cursing at home, he already heard how the door to his sons room was closed and locked. Within a few seconds, the package was carefully opened with a Swiss army knife and Scraggy could finally analyze its content. The first item that could his eye was a still sealed package of collectible cards of the American TV show "21 Jump Street." Rubbish, he thought, throwing the pack behind his back where it landed between his bonsai tree and the bust of Julius Cesar. The next one seemed more interesting at first. A small dagger, maybe of Japanese or Chinese origin. Sadly, the small "made in Poland" label that he found on the scabbard degraded it to a piece of junk as well. It went on for quite some time in a similar fashion. Scraggy took coin after coin out of the package, all varying in origin and quality, but nothing too fancy. Stamps, old postcards, a torn fan and a neat little pocket watch that would have been just what he what but it must have broken during the delivery. He could only sort the several cogs and tiny parts of broken glass on a separate pile. "Dammit!" Scraggy said to himself in his favorite way (namely by cursing). "Seems like another month of wasted pocket mo..." ***The Medallion*** "ney..." He almost chocked on the last syllable. His eyes must play a trick on him: Below all that broken crap, the rubbish, deeply buried in the box full of trash lay the copy of a mystical item he once read about. It was a cheap looking medallion, with the picture of a winged creature holding some kind of staff depicted in its center. The chain belonging to it was bound around a tiny plastic bag which contained several pieces of cloth. "Unbelievable! It looks just like that medallion!" He was sure that he remembered that thing from an article he read on one of those paranoid web pages. Yep, that must have been it. He clearly remembered a fake interview with a 13-year-old American girl that was supposed to be a 30- something year old investment banker before the fateful day on which "he" found the medallion. It was among of a bunch of other articles with headlines such as "Could Hitler's UFO Dive?" and "Cobains Secret Mansion in the Mountains of Guatemala." There were reports about it on other sites as well. It was on of the most intriguing modern urban myths in his opinion. It took him a while to appreciate the love for detail that was obviously put into this replica, at least in contrast to that Japanese dagger. In this case, he could imagine why somebody cared so much about creating a fake medallion. In all the stories about it, it accidentally fell into the hands of its owners. Sending it in that fashion to people all around the globe would blow the minds of a few clued in ones for sure. It would be similar to taping that "Ring" video on a real VHS and dropping it in a random mailbox. The creator of the fake even thought of the obligatory addition to the medallion: The small bag of mostly female clothes. After opening it, Scraggy realized that the pieces of cloth were in fact complete items. Skirts, socks, shirts and many other sorts of fashion. Fascinated, he put the chain around his neck and regarded his reflection, using the window in his room as an improvised mirror. He thought that he looked like a gangster wannabe with that big piece of bling and smiled a little. His thoughts, however, soon returned to one of the items that peeked a tiny bit out of the bag. "Black satin bra. A decent B-cup according to the label. Feels like polyester. The guys over at the lab should have a look at it." Scraggy had no idea why he was often making crude references to all kinds of TV shows and movies, but it was a fun quirk. It often made the people around him smile, at least those who understood his quotes. Anja always laughed uncontrollably when he imitated one of the archangels from the movie "Dogma." Meanwhile, she wrote some dumb stuff about that on the bulletin board at college. It took him ages to cover it up again with a black marker. That witch... the mere thought of here filled him with rage. The moment he thought of her vicious smile again, he dropped the bra as he felt the urge to clench his fists. Similarly to a nutty professor who had to pick up his scattered notes, he bend over to pick it up again when something metallic touched his knees. Right... he was still wearing the medallion! Curiosity overcame him. Nothing would happen if he touched it, of course not. The legend of the medallion might be incredible, but silly at the same time. Yet, he wanted to try it at least once. Scraggy closed his eyes. Slowly, he moved the balled-up bra towards his chest. Mystical energy seemed to float around him. The whole apartment was silent. His father must have left the house just moments after his return from the Vienna. He always had the long weekend-shift at the police station. An ungrateful job, but a good way to earn some extra cash for the family and his dad didn't mind to be on duty Saturdays and Sundays. He already felt how his folded arms touched his body. Nothing could destroy the magic he felt. "Rrrrrrring!" Except for the phone maybe. Once more, he did the Marge Simpson groan before even thinking about answering it. Annoyed, he threw the bra in the next best corner and dropped onto the bed before picking it up. Scraggy: "24/7 pizza delivery, how can I help you?" Franky: " Yeah I'd like that Scraggy special with some extra advice, good man!" S: "Franky! I almost forgot that you wanted to call me today. What's the matter?" F: "About Rebecca, you know." S: "Frankyboy... You know just as well as I that I'm not a date doctor. Not even close to one." F: "Sure, but there's this rumor that both of you might have enjoyed each other a tad too much at Miller's party last week." S: "Truth to be told, both of us were piss drunk that night and we talked about it a few days later. She said that it was fun, but would never happen again. How is that going to help you?" F: "Relax man, I just wanted to know if you kissed her." S: "I guess we did. I'm even pretty sure it must have happened sometime between talking about the infinity of space and vomiting behind Miller's couch. Nothing special, however. It happened quick and she seemed quite shy and unaffected by it. Why are you asking. Is our number one womanizer in distress these days, huh?" F: "Oh, cut that crap!" S: "Sorry, didn't want to be rude. Why were you asking again?" F: "Because I don't get it. We spend so much time together. We have a similar taste in music, fashion, hang out almost every day for an hour or two and I know that she knows what I have in mind- and still, nothing is happening!" S: "Is it possible that she's just prude?" F: "Don't think so. She would have told me if things went to fast. It's more like... like she doesn't enjoy fooling around at all! I simply don't get it..." S: "Well, you're not the only one in that case. I don't know a single guy who ever got close to her. She is like one of those Aztec temples. Pretty to look at, but nobody will ever understand it completely. I'm pretty sure that she won't make an exception for th-" F: "Don't want to interrupt you man, but is your phone giving up the ghost or something? You sound horribly squeaky all of a sudden." S: "Squeaky!? What the!?" In this moment, Scraggy noticed it as well. His voice was definitely higher than normal and far less raspy. However, it was not the phones fault. That pipsqueakish voice came out of his throat! Panicking, he jumped out of the bed and everything came thick and fast. Already while getting up, he felt a strange weight on his chest. When his dark blue shirt touched his nipples, they felt so sensitive and it almost hurt a little as the slid along the fabric. The weight dragged him down in a confusing fashion and the brown wood paneling on his ceiling seemed farer away than usual. And as he stood with both legs in front of his bed, his stonewashed jeans, which all of a sudden seemed three sizes to big for him slid from his now hairless legs and gave him a fantastic view on the thin stripe of hair above the place where his penis used to be. Speechless, he stood there and stared at the inexplicable. Did really just happen what he thought was a hoax? Out of a fabrication spread online? Moments later, he finally managed to capture these complex happenings and transform them into a fitting commentary: "Holy shit!" F: "It's still holy Frank to you, infidel. Is you phone broken now or what?" S: "Franky... uhm... you should just come over and have a look at it for yourself, I think. You wouldn't believe me now anyway." Afterwards, he only managed to produce confused muttering, similar to the most untalented C-class actors that you could find when zapping through the channels on a lazy Monday afternoon. The steady signal coming from his phone made clear that Franky has hung up already. Scraggy hushed to the bathroom as fast as he could with his now tiny feet to take a look at himself in the bathroom mirror. His assumptions turned out to be true. Instead of the 22-year-old student, the hazy brown eyes of an otherwise beautiful girl looked back at him. She was definitely younger than him, he guessed her to be 18 or 19. Her hair was only slightly longer than his own, which explained why he didn't notice it changing. The color shifting from a light brown to a slightly darker tone was something he couldn't notice while he was on the phone. Now, he could take all the time he wanted to examine his new shape. He admired her soft facial features, the little snub nose of hers, the bright red cheeks. Not even the lack of the beard that he was so proud of seemed to bother him. The only change that began to bug him was the small stature of the body he inhibited. Normally, he could always see his belly just above the sink in his reflection. His femininity now, however, barely came above this level with her breasts. He began to laugh hysterically and the strange woman in the mirror followed his example, her chest jumping up and down with every giggle. She had a fantastic smile. It was definitely coming from a person that he had never met before. He was sure that he would remember such a light-hearted smile. Enough of that, however. Now that it was his body, he thought, the young lady sure wouldn't mind if he took a look under that shirt. He quickly removed his T-shirt, which covered his new body like a tent and revealed a pair of small and juvenile, perfectly shaped breasts. He couldn't deny that it aroused him to look at them. All of a sudden, he felt that strange feeling his nipples gave him earlier again. Like a good sip of a high proof brandy. He could see in his reflection that her nipples grew a little bit as they were slowly erecting. Should he feel excited or shocked? During the last half hour, he became a girl. A good looking one at that, and his own sexuality obviously didn't seem to be affected. "No matter how cool he acted on the phone, " Scraggy said to himself in his new, but meanwhile self-confident voice, "Franky will think I'm pulling his leg." ***The Plan*** "You're trying to pull my leg, sweetheart?" Franky asked that stunning bombshell that opened the door to Scraggy's apartment. "Not that I wouldn't mind that..." Scraggy meanwhile did his best to not break out in laughter. The situation was just too funny. For the first time, he could see his self declared ladies man of a friend turning bright red in front of him. There also seemed to be to much blood in other parts of his body as well. From his new point of view, Scraggy tried to take it as a compliment. A reason for Franks embarrassing reaction might be put on his current outfit. Scraggy didn't take the time to search the bag for some fitting underwear (besides the black bra). Therefore, he opened the door in nothing but one of his old Iron Maiden T Shirts, which was just big enough to barely cover his special region. A fact that encouraged Franky's little friend to act up inside his pants as if he tried to say "Hey, I want a handshake too!" And he really called him "sweetheart"... te-he! "I mean... well... I'm really glad that our Scraggy finally found someone for his 'recreational activities,' and that you two just want to enjoy yourself. But that's no reason to prank me for nothing!" Franky was very resistant to what Scraggy's female alter ego told him. He would rather believe that his buddy could actually find a girl that hot instead of going with the magical truth. That would be difficult... "Tell you what, then. I'll give you the medallion and you simply check it for yourself." Scraggy proposed, trying to sound seductive and gently caressed his friend's cheek, who almost fainted. He quickly pulled his hand back. "Did I really just do that?" Scraggy wondered. Did the medallion change his psyche after all? Or could it be blamed on a thought deeply rooted in his mind that always wanted to do that? None of those possibilities sounded too good in his ears. Thank God that Franky couldn't hear his inner conflict. He simply felt affirmed in his role as a womanizer once more and Scraggy's plan worked out. "Ok then. Don't think that you convinced me. Let's just imagine for a second that you are in fact Scraggy, our little supergeek." "I'll get back to you for that!" Scraggy gnashed silently. "And let's also assume that this cheap piece of medal really contains some kind of magical power that can transform your body into any kind of human shape, why should I want to turn into a stranger? Why wouldn't I just wait till Emma lost one of her scarves and become her?" Emma was one of the most beautiful girls at their college. Not only did she have a stunning face, but a pair of enormous tits that must have been larger than her own head, maybe even bigger. Being her must offer a guy an exotic variety of possibilities to fool around. Or maybe one could even take it a step farther by ordering a worn piece of clothing from a VIP online and... ...these thoughts kept spinning around Scraggy's head faster and faster and shaped a diabolical plan. He began to grin. "What now?" Frank asked, expecting the girl to fetch the medallion for him. Scraggy shrugged his shoulders and revealed a bit too much of what was under his shirt. He definitely had to get out of this body ASAP, it's slutty behavior became uncontrollable and annoying. "Te-he! I just thought of something funny sugar. And now- sorry! I have to throw you out. As soon as I find the time, I will drop the medallion in your mailbox. I have bigger fish to fry now." With this words, Scraggy closed the door in front of a very irritated Frank and went back to his room. There was indeed much to plan before the Vienna opened again in the evening. ***The Medallion, Part Second*** Cursing, Scraggy walked up and down in his room, always an eye on the clock. After re-reading certain articles on the internet, He remembered the 12 hour timelock the medallion had. It bothered him to the extreme, as it prevented him from showing up at the Vienna at ten o'clock. The later he would make an appearance there, the less people would see him. The alarm of his clock brought his mind back to the moment again. The time has finally come. Early in the morning, he has had his first contact with the medallion and now, he could give it another shot. After running back to the bathroom for a final look at the beautiful girl he became that day, he put the medallion back on and touched it with another piece of clothing that he found after digging through his room for about an hour. This time, he felt the short electrical shock rushing through his body. He carefully watched himself in the mirror because he didn't want to miss the spectacular transformation again. It wouldn't be as impressive as a transition from male to female. Yet, he became excited as he started to notice that his hair became shorter. Feeling them sucking into his head gave him a strange sensation and reminded him of the last time he went out to eat pasta with Bushman and Franky. His skin turned into a lighter shade and he even seemed to grow an inch or two. At that moment, the most intriguing part of the transformation began. While he certainly liked the breasts the brown-haired girl had, they were a notch too small for his personal preferences. Carefully, he lay his hands on the dark brown areolas, just like a centerfold model would do it. Maybe that's why he liked that look so much. His chest then began to expand larger and larger, squeezing them under the pressure of his frail hands as his nipples made his body shiver under the building arousal that quickly spread across his whole body. The moment in which the transformation reached his vagina, the tingling was accompanied by a wetness as his thighs became more feminine as well. A warm feeling that put his genitals in a state of arousal and made him shiver. If he had known how much pleasure a female body could give him, he wouldn't have wasted the afternoon to clean his room as a woman. This state of being seemed to control his every nerve and muscle, told him what he had to do and increase the feeling. He didn't want to waste a moment like this standing in a cold bathroom and returned to his bed. Images of half naked men shaped in his head, which he commented with a quick "No!" as he shook his had. He didn't want to admit that they were in fact pushing him further into ecstasy. A feeling of relief overcame him as he started to fantasize about Emma and the things two girls could experience together. Some male parts must still be left inside him and allow him to continue without feeling to ashamed of himself. He lifted his right hand and began to massage his right nipple with his thumb while his left hand wandered down the curves of his new body and gently caressed across the skin with his fingers. The tension inside him grew more and more. He needed to find a way to process this sensations and so, he began to moan. Unnoticeable at first, the moaning became louder and louder during the time he touched himself. Even the moaning itself started to arouse him, before he ultimately reached climax. As he sunk in his sheets, Scraggy wished that he could spend an eternity like that. Masturbating as a man seemed so far away from him right now. Compared to the storm of emotions that this body just felt, pleasing his male persona felt like a swift breeze. Another glance at the clock reminded him that he had to get up and complete what he had begun. It almost broke his heart, but now he had to ruin the chance to meet some of the many girls that were stored in the clothing-bag. He put on a pair of panties that seemed to fit and a bra in a different color, which was a bit loose but the best he could find. Then, he put on the black dress that he used to start the transformation and a pair of sneakers that he found in a dark corner of his closet. He outgrew them years ago. Finally, it was time to face his new self in the mirror for the last time before heading of to the town center. "That bitch wants to play dirty, huh? Let's go down on her level then." Scraggy sad, and the reflection of his ex smirked at him. ***Revenge*** Everything went according to plan. Not surprising at all, the medallion makes perfect copies of people. His keen fantasy of vengeance was close to becoming reality. He knew that the dress that Anja left at his place would come in handy one day after that talk with Franky. And while the real Anja, according to some of their former mutual friends, spent her holiday in a cheap hotel at a random beach in Florida right now, he could freely roam around the town in her body and do a mighty fine job in giving her a taste of her own medicine. Even the tricky parts worked out as he wanted them to. A well placed bundle of small bank notes into the chest-pocket of one of the bouncers, combined with the same sexy movements that he used to convince Franky saved him from an ID control that he could impossibly pass right now and gave him entrance to the Vienna. Though it was a nice place for many young people to hang out, the interior didn't change much from the normal set-up as an ice cream parlor. Some tables were removed to create an improvised dance floor a hilariously incompetent DJ did his best behind the counter, some fancy lights and a larger variety of cocktails. That was about it. The only thing left for him to do was to drink enough to gain a little courage and to start a show. ***A Strange Night*** Not even two glasses later and Scraggy could hear the angels sing. The taste of the cocktail, which was much more bitter than normally still burned in his throat. Besides the incredible sensitivity of his body and the ability to get everything he wanted by looking cute, this was the first real disadvantage he noticed. Not that he wanted to drink much more and ways annoyed because he couldn't. What annoyed him was the barkeeper, an acne-ridden shrimp who reminded him that "little ladies should know their boundaries" and that he should stop drinking. That shrimp acting like he was just a silly girl made him furious. Even worse, that bastard made him a non-alcoholic cocktail and passed it to him with a wink. Was he trying to hit one me!? Scraggy quickly declined and took a look around to check if many of Anja's mates were at the Vienna tonight. He was lucky: It felt like somebody decided to make an excursion to the bars tonight. Almost every seat was either occupied by somebody he knew, she knew, or somebody that he had at least seen in one of his classes. Between the tables, a very confused looking Rebecca stumbled around. She seemed to be searching for something, or somebody. Scraggy had no idea if she was a friend of Anja or not, so he quickly lost interest in her. By far more exciting was the sight that he got on the table next to Rebecca. Nina, Bushman's girlfriend was sitting there, passionately making out with her best friend Marcel. That filthy whore was cheating on his best friend! Scraggy was mad as a bull. But could not interfere at that moment. Not while he was in that body at least. Deeply breathing in and out, he tried calm himself down. At least he could give report about it to his friend. "Thanks for the cocktail Anja, but that pick-up trick never worked with me!" It was Rebecca who stood next to him all of a sudden, holding the cocktail that he left at the counter and looking at him grimly, the other hand on her hip. He never saw such a hateful expression in her face, but that was not the only strange thing about her. "Not what I had in mind, dear," Scraggy said, trying to make his new voice sound arrogant. "By the way: Weren't you looking for someone? And wearing another outfit?" It sounded odd, but Scraggy was absolutely right. Moments ago, Rebecca appeared to be confused and wore a denim jacket and jeans. The Rebecca standing in front of him was dressed in a red tank top under a brown cord jacket. What was going on here? "Don't try to change the topic!" She shouted at him. "You bought me that cocktail to show some sham sympathy after what you did to Scraggy. I'm not playing along with your little mind games, princess. Go fuck off!" He was shocked to see Rebecca acting like that. She has never been an aggressive girl in any way. She rather was a follower who let the talking to other people. All strangeness aside, however, Rebecca gave him just the right kick-off to execute the rest of his plan to get back at Anja once and for all. ***Acting Up*** "You know," Scraggy began, strolling around and swinging Anja's hips in a very theatrical way, "I'm just the kind of gal to fool around." The chatting on various tables began to cease as more and more heads turned towards the faux Anja. It really worked. Scraggy started another run, even louder than before: "It makes me feel like an escort girl. I take what I want and when I want it, without any consequences." The first "boohs" emerged from the female half of the audience, while the males began to laugh and whistle. Even the DJ hit the pause button so that everybody could enjoy the unexpected show. This gave him some more time before the bouncers would throw him out. Encouraged by the dress of looks he wore now, he jumped on the next best barstool, thus giving his immediate neighbors a niece look at his underwear. "Don't you know that I'm the biggest whore around here!?" He shouted, began to giggle and after waiting for some more mixed reactions, it was time for the grand finale. Scraggy grabbed the edges of the black dress, then raised his hands in the air all of a sudden, flashing his panties to the entire audience. While everybody blamed "her" behavior on drinking too much, a deeply satisfied young male smiled inside of her. The audience was in a frenzy at this point. Wild applause mixed with "strip show!" chants. None of it helped the fake Anja, however. Under heavy booing, the bouncer dragged her out of the place. ***Bad Surprise*** Everything happened too fast from then on. Scraggy saw the colorful spotlight on the ceiling of the Vienna, the doorframe and finally the smirking security guard who pushed him out of the place. After that, he was left under the dark, starless sky. Suddenly, he heard the clicking of heels on the cobblestone behind him. An incredibly loud sound in contrast to almost silent scuttling of his sneakers. Before he could turn around, a strong hand grabbed his shoulder and forced him to go along. The hand was big, but it definitely belonged to a female. It was hairless and the nails that dug in his shoulders were too long to be worn by a male. The odd couple made its way around the next corner, a few yards away from the Vienna. There, his kidnapper turned him around and in front of him stood Samantha, one of Anja's closest friends in all of her pride. Samantha had a lot to be proud of, to be precise. Even when wearing flat shoes, she must be around six foot tall. With the black high heels she wore that night, however, she could probably look Bushman straight in the eyes if she wanted to. Not only that, bet Samantha combined her towering height with a muscular body. She was one of the most successful girls on the track and field team at college and her talent with the javelin has scored her more than one medal. Her strength also made it dangerous to date her. Rumors say that once, she had a date with a poor feller that pushed her too far, after which he ended in a hospital, his left wrist broken. She was a girl to be afraid of, and, compared to his current size, she appeared even more monstrous. "What the hell did you do in there, huh!?" The way this blonde Amazon talked to him and looked down at him was intimidating enough for him without being broken in half by her. In this moment, he really felt like a weak little girl that got into trouble and was now afraid of the scolding she would get by her mother. Suddenly, however, Samantha's facial expression changed. The rage left her blue eyes and was replaced by a deceiving mercy. Carefully, he leaned onto Samantha. He had no idea why he did that, it must have been another takeover of Anja's real thoughts. Meanwhile, Samantha put her large hands on the back of his head in a caring way. "Oh sweety... I know you've been through a lot because of that bastard, but there's no need to go crazy because of him!" Scraggy, lulled by her gentle ways, was not courageous enough to interrupt the giantess. "And you meanie don't even tell your best friend that you are not going on holiday. You can consider yourself lucky that I found you! I just returned from the movies and thought about how much fun you must have right now. I can imagine what kept you from flying away..." With a small twist of her strong arm, Samantha changed Scraggy's direction and made him follow her. "It's because of our dirty little secret, right? So cute of you! You really are my favorite toy, Anja!" With these words, Samantha removed her hand from his shoulders and gave his, or better Anja's round and female behind a hard smack. He shrieked and immediately started to rub his hurting butt, pouting at Samantha. How did she just call him? It was a humiliating moment. "Oh I love when you look like that, princess!" Samantha laughed and grabbed his tiny hand. "My parents are gone for the weekend and I still have half a bottle of Tequila. That will cheer you up!" Again, the loud sound of clicking heels echoed through the dark streets, and again, it was followed by the tiny scuttling of sneakers. ***Aftershock*** Scraggy woke up to the mild beams of a fresh morning touching his skin. How much did he drink? His head was still spinning. The radio alarm clock next to him read 9:31. He hoped to find some Aspirin around here. For a short moment, he was surprised by the sight of to large mounds of flesh that greeted him when he raised the blanket. Then, everything came back to his mind again. The medallion, the first transformation, the second one, the show at the Venice, Samantha...Samantha! He turned around and saw the sleeping giantess, cuddled into the dark red bed sheets. She looked so innocent right now, very unlike the diabolic Samantha that he remembered from the last evening. That mischievous grin she gave him in Anja's body as she called him "Toy," as she closed the door behind them and offered him some tequila, then the blackout hit him. At least his head seemed to straighten a bit as he sorted his thoughts. He slowly forced himself out of the warm bed, the cold air tickling his female nipples. Besides that, he still felt miserable. It was not only the alcohol introduced headache that made it difficult for him, his whole body did hurt. His joints were hurting, he felt wobbly in his legs and his behind felt like it was glowing, as if he sat on a pile of charcoal for the last night. Shivering, he came to the conclusion that not all of this could be blamed on the empty bottle of alcohol on the nightstand. As he made his way through the room with insecure steps, he felt so incredibly weak and fragile. He began to tremble after the first few steps and fell flat on his face. The rough carpet felt painful on his breasts. And no wonder his feet felt like they were cut off the rest of his body and made it difficult to walk. The rims of two red pumps that were clenched tightly around his ankles. The shoes were not the only surprise for him. As he looked down on Anja's body, he saw that he was wearing a fitting thong, a piece of clothing so small that didn't even cover the most necessary parts. Reason enough to find his clothes and get out of there as fast as possible, Scraggy thought. He quickly collected his stuff, which was scattered around the floor. Just as he wanted to storm out, he noticed the "unique" taste that Samantha had as he took a closer look at her room. What appeared to be a typical room for a girl of Samantha's age at first revealed a mass of delicate details. In that corner, one could spot the knob of a little black whip behind a flowerpot, her DVD collection contained at least a handful of rather dubious titles, and the handcuffs hanging on her bedpost were surely more than just a decorative piece. Finally, the camera on her desk caught his attention. He knew that the pictures on it might shock him - he already felt like he had a wild night after all. However, he wasn't prepared for what he was about to see. Picture 1: Anja, kneeling in front of Samantha, handcuffed. He silently cursed the autotimer of the camera. Picture 2: Anja, chained to a chair, Samantha standing behind her, the whip in her hands. Scraggy didn't know what shocked him more. The fact that he did not remember any of this or that "Anja" was smiling on the photo. Picture 3: Anja and Samantha kissing, tongue in cheek. Actually a very hot pic if it weren't his ex and her best friend. Picture 4: Anja, laying on Samantha's knees. Might at least explain the pain in his behind. Picture 5: Samantha, wearing a strap on... "Oh my!" ***Back to Reality?*** The camera menu revealed that there were exactly 77 more pictures and three video files on the SD card. He took it out of the camera, put it in his pocket (hey! You never know...) and finally left Samantha's play- dungeon. She was still sleeping like a log and didn't even notice that "Anja" was missing. Outside, the sun literally was a thorn in Scraggy's eyes and the cool air that felt so refreshing yesterday night gave him the goose bumps now. Far worse, however was that he needed to find Franky now in order to get the medallion back- he had to return to the Vienna, were he most likely was. Well, he could still hope that most visitors of yesterday evening were still sleeping and that Franky would believe him now, without questioning why Anja would demand the medallion back. The torment began as soon as he came close to the Vienna. "Coming home from work or still looking for a client, hooker?" It came from Rebecca, who, strangely enough, sat next to Nina on the same table. "Aw fuck off!", Scraggy replied, still sound like the arrogant bitch he was now before doing the Marge Simpson groan again. At that moment, Nina's jaw dropped open and Rebecca raised her eyebrow. Scraggy wondered why the two of them stared at him like that. Just then, he realized the truth: "Bushman? Franky?" The girls nodded. "Do you have the medallion with you? You what?" Happiness is such a fragile thing. What are you supposed to do when your dreams shatter within seconds and all you can do is collect the shards? A question that none of the three sad girls could easily answer on such an otherwise beautiful morning.