The Katy Nightmare Part 4
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The Katy Nightmare - Part 1 free porn video
Author Notes - I've been a reader of this site for quite a while now,
and now that I'm 22, and I figured it's about time I gave something
back! You'll probably quickly tell from my writing style that this story
will be a slow burner, but hopefully and if all goes well, this will be
the first part of many. Themes it will touch upon later are body
swapping and transformation.
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The Katy Nightmare - Part 1
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I thought that my teen years were over.
I had hit the age of 21 a few weeks ago, and on that day, I had suddenly
come to the realisation that life had entered its next phase now, and
spent a bit of time looking back at how life had changed since I was 15
or 16.
Socialising. That had moved on, from nights at the cinema and going
around a friend's house to going to bars and clubs at the weekend. I'd
spent my nights as a teenager on MSN Messenger and MySpace, yet they'd
long been replaced by Facebook. Although my friends were the same
people, they were completely different at the same time. One of them was
even expecting his first child.
All of those changes had got me thinking. Did I actually miss those
days? I was at a local University now, but did I prefer the last years
of school, my two years at college? Would I go back if I could?
Then, sat around a table with friends on the same day, that exact
conversation came up.
"We're all at least 21 now," said Kelly, a pretty girl I'd known since
school. "It sucks, doesn't it? I wish I was young again."
"You still are young," a mate of mine that I'd met at University swiftly
replied. The compliment wasn't surprising, he'd been trying to 'pull'
her for weeks.
"I know, but, like, life was a lot easier when I was at school. It was
more fun too, yeah? I'd love to be that age again."
"Nah, I can't really see that Kelly."
As they continued talking about being younger again, I started to think
of the benefits of being older. Things like being able to drink legally,
or drive if I wanted to. Or having more money than I did back then.
I considered the idea of being at school again. I'd hated it at the
time. While I'd been quite popular, I'd hated the whole being told what
to do, the lack of freedom, and the early mornings.
I recalled the final day, when so many of the girls had cried at the end
of the leaving ceremony. Personally I hadn't seen the fuss, it was cause
for celebration if anything.
Surely it wouldn't be any better now I'd experienced the freedom of
being an adult. Anyway, I could barely stand teenagers when I had to
deal with them.
Eventually, the debate between my friends turned to me to settle it.
"Right, Tone," using the shortened version of my name that my friends
had for years, "If you could live the past few years again, or even just
go back for a day, would you?"
By now, I'd convinced myself of my answer.
"Nah," I said. "I'd hate to be a school kid again. I think it'd be a
nightmare."
I may have only thought it, but little did I know that a few weeks
later, that's exactly what my life would be.
It all began with a knock on the door.
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Although I was a University student, I had decided to live at home for
the duration of my degree.
Usually this had meant sharing the house with my parents, but tonight
was a free house, and I'd been making plans all day to make the most of
it and have some friends around.
I'd made the round trip to the shop earlier in the day for alcohol,
which had been the bad point of the day so far, because I'd timed it
right the middle of the after school run.
Which was annoying.
When I'd got to the shop, a couple of boys had been in the same aisle
messing around, probably over a girl in the next one, although I didn't
pay enough attention to care. I figured they were 12 or 13, but then all
of them looked young to me, even the Year 11 kids.
Anyway, they'd walked in to me and made me drop a glass bottle, which I
ended up having to pay for. No apology or anything, they'd just wandered
off after their friends. It was an instant reminder of why I hated being
around children of any age.
I'd mostly forgotten about that now, though, and looking at the time,
realised it was 7:00 PM and that I should get a move on and get ready.
But then, suddenly, a knock at the front door.
At first I thought about ignoring it. It was probably the window
cleaner, or somebody else who I'd have to pay some of the money I had
left from the shop to.
It wouldn't be a friend, or so I thought, because they weren't due for
another hour.
Maybe it was, though? Given I was about to have a shower, I'd rather
have not left them knocking, plus it was completely freezing, and dark
given that it was November by now.
So, I headed downstairs, opened the passage door, and saw the outline
through the frosted glass of what appeared to be a girl.
I wasn't expecting any girls to be coming, but I'd shown my face now, so
I opened the door to be met by a fairly pretty, teenage brunette smiling
lightly, as if I were a friend that had correctly answered them.
Of course, I had no idea who she was.
Examining her, she stood a few inches shorter than me, looking I'd guess
around 14 years old and wearing what I would imagine to have been
minimal make-up, the amount I'd have guessed teen girls wear on a daily
basis. Her hair was of an average length, left fairly loose with a
fringe, a classic teen girl hairstyle.
I didn't pay too much attention to her outfit, although I could tell
that she was wearing a jacket and jeans, and nothing too fancy. She had
three Tesco carrier bags bunched in front of her chest, held together
with her left hand. Her left wrist had a pink bobble around it, and her
nails were painted, although in the dark evening light I couldn't tell
which colour.
I assumed, obviously, that she'd probably knocked on the wrong door. I
didn't know her, and I hadn't been told to expect any deliveries.
In the couple of seconds of me trying to figure out if I knew her or if
there was a reason for her being at the door, she'd kept smiling and not
moved, waiting for me to speak.
If she wasn't going to speak, I figured that I'd have to.
"Erm, hello?" I asked.
She took it as a cue to reply, speaking in a stereotypical local girl's
accent, slightly chirpy and with a distinctly teenage sound to it.
"Tony?" she queried.
I didn't know this girl, but she'd got my name right, so she clearly
wasn't at the wrong door.
"Yeah, that's me."
After sort of being static since I'd opened the door, she sprung in to
action a little, lowering the bags from her chest and stepping forward
slightly. I glanced down briefly and noticed her feet, encased in black
ballet flats with a bow, were now touching the tip of the door frame.
"Cool, I'm Katy. You went to Lansley Secondary School, didn't you?"
I had no idea who this girl was, but they'd told me my name and my
school. Her presence at my door was making me feel a little
uncomfortable.
I'd been at the school for four years after transferring there. It was a
pretty average school, and the same one that the boys who'd annoyed me
earlier in the day attended.
I'd had little to do with the place since leaving, returning only once
for an awards ceremony. I remembered having my cousin and her annoying
habits sat next to me due to the joys of alphabetical order. I guess
that could be why this girl was at my door - They could've been the same
age now.
However, I wanted to get ready for my night, not chat about school with
a teenage girl, so I pushed her to get to the point.
"Yeah, I did. Erm, Katy, I think it was, do I know you?" I replied.
I guess I asked her a bit too bluntly, because she scrunched up her
mouth briefly, and slid back to her original position off of the door
frame.
"So you remember the uniform, then?" she answered, expertly ignoring my
question.
This girl seemed to be playing Captain Obvious. If I'd been a student
there, I'd surely remember it.
"Yeah, why?"
"Did you like it?"
I was feeling increasingly uncomfortable now, almost as if I wasn't
thinking entirely straight. Sort of a drunken lack of self-control, but
while entirely sober. It was making me unable to ask why she'd asked me
such a weird question.
I looked down at her feet, and she'd started to rest her left foot on
its side a little, presumably through habit more than anything else. My
discomfort increased.
I raised my line of sight slowly from her feet, noticing her jeans were
pale and fairly snug fitting, clearly a girl's pair and not boy cut
ones.
Before I knew it, I'd answered her question.
"Erm, it was alright," I said.
I felt puzzled that I'd even replied, yet felt unable to say anything
else. She'd clearly taken my answer as an excuse to act, though, as
she'd started to rustle through the three Tesco bags that she'd brought
to the door.
"Cool," she replied.
I started to peer at the bags, not feeling at all normal, almost as if
I'd been rooted to the spot.
After a few more moments, she identified the bag she was looking for,
rearranging the bunch and transferring the bag to her left hand.
"Oh-kayyyy, this bag's got my skirts in," she said, raising the bag
slightly to demonstrate which one she meant.
She smiled, offering it to me as if were a present, her arm outreached,
the bag in her hand, waiting to be taken by me.
I could see a navy blue material peeking out of the top of the bag, as
her rustling it around had disclosed a small part of its contents.
Through the bag I could see the shadow of what appeared to be three or
four navy blue school skirts, like the ones the girls at my school had
worn. This girl seemed to be offering me her uniform.
By now I was almost in a trance, entirely sure of what was going on, and
only able to go along with it. I didn't seem able to question why she
was giving me her skirts.
I didn't seem able to do anything, in fact, except take them.
She was beginning to look slightly impatient, the sort of face that
somebody would show if they were being made to wait on a handshake, and
her impatience acted as a cue for me to take the handles of the bag in
my grasp.
She withdrew her hand, and transferred a second bag in to it. There was
a certain urgency to her actions now, as if she had to be somewhere
else.
"Right, and this one," she pointed out, shaking it around a little,
"Includes my shirts, jumpers, some stuff like that."
She offered the bag to me again, and I took it without hesitation this
time, still feeling a trance-like aura of obedience to this girl's
offers.
With one bag left, she giggled to herself a little, evidently finding
something amusing. Or perhaps, she had a plan that was working. Either
way, I could only feel myself waiting for her to pass it to me.
"This one's got the rest of my stuff in, Tony," she pointed out, "and my
shoes are at the bottom so nothing gets dirty."
She extended her arm half-way with the remaining bag, within my grasp,
but clearly not ready to pass it to me.
"Oh, and my tights are kinda bunched up though, sorry," she added,
extending her arm fully.
Her voice had turned apologetic, as if I should be disappointed with her
that she'd given them to me in such a state.
I took the final bag again, unable to resist or even consider resisting,
and bunching it together with the others in my hand, now possessing all
of the items that she had offered me.
I could feel the aura of sorts wearing off now, but before I could quiz
her, she began to turn away, speaking to me as she headed down the front
path toward the street.
"Alright, that's everything, I have to get home now though," she said.
She disappeared on to the street, and headed down the path. I stood for
a few moments, looking absently toward where she had stood. I was
feeling like I was coming around from a knock on the head, and I'd had
no willpower to not accept the bags from her.
I turned toward my house, entering and closing the door, heading in to
the hall way before stopping and looking at the clock.
I'd only been at the door for a couple of minutes, yet I'd experienced
the most bizarre feeling of my life.
I was now feeling like I'd woken up from a weird daydream, but a look
down to the bags in my hand, then around the hallway and around in all
directions, made me realise that the incident at the door had really
happened.
"What the hell?" were my first words, out loud.
I dropped the bags to the ground, heading back to the door and out on to
the street, looking around for any trace of the teenage girl who'd
called herself Katy.
She was nowhere to be seen.
Heading back inside, resigned to not receiving an explanation, I looked
to the stack of Tesco bags.
Kneeling down, I had a quick feel in to the top of them, my hands coming
across a variety of materials, alternately neatly folded and bundled
together. From what she'd said and from what I could feel, it seemed
like I'd just come in to the possession of every part of this girl's
school uniform.
"She must have got the wrong person or something," I initially concluded
under my breath.
I stood up again, realising that feeling through a teenage girl's school
uniform was something that I'd rather not do.
My next feeling was to dump the bags on to the street or bin them
outside. Maybe this girl had lost her senses as much as I had a few
moments ago? Why would I want or need these items?
Then I thought back to her knowing my name. That couldn't be
coincidence. Plus her asking for my opinion on the uniform that she'd
presumably just given me. These bags may have been meant for me, but
why?
I decided to keep the bags just in case, even if just for a few days,
and headed up to my bedroom.
Opening my wardrobe, I created a hole amidst the pile of lesser-worn
clothes left off their hangers at its base, tidily placing the three
bags in to it before disguising their presence them with items of my
own.
I closed the wardrobe door, and turned to contemplate the past few
minutes of events.
"That was pretty weird," I said to myself.
Then I remembered my plans for the evening, and that I'd been about to
have a shower. Incidentally, my priorities had changed.
"Fuck the shower, I need a drink."
As I headed downstairs to get myself one, I decided that the odd teenage
girl at the door could wait.
If only I had any idea of what I'd just got myself in to.
Makenna
- 07.10.2020
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The Katy Nightmare Part 2
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