The Perils Of Powers free porn video

What a time to find out you have powers. Forty years old. Don't ask me how it happened, why or what, because I don't know. My parents don't have any powers that I know of, nor anyone else in my family. Me, some months after my fortieth birthday I woke up after a poor night's sleep to discover that I was covered in fur! I panicked and desperately wished it would go away, and it did. I lay back, relaxed, and put it down to a lucid dream. But I was curious. I tried experimenting. If I concentrated hard enough I could grow my hair long or reverse the growth, change the colour of my eyes, even get taller and shorter. It was all much easier at night, relaxed, lying in bed. It was very difficult during the day. What was it about being in bed that made it so much easier? It wasn't impossible in the day, but much more difficult. Then one night I struggled transforming anything whilst in bed. I was just trying to grow my nails. It should have been simple. Looking at my fingers was when I realised that I hadn't taken off my old wedding ring. I took it off and put it in its usual place on the bedside cabinet and suddenly the test was simple. My ring interfered with the power. It wasn't long before I discovered that was a benefit. Waking up again from a poor night's sleep I found myself staring in the wardrobe mirror at a dwarf. I concentrated on returning myself to normal, and realised that wearing the ring at night might prevent such changes. Well, not totally prevent, as I could change with a struggle, so I looked for something else to help. In a jewellery shop near my office I tried on a few items, and discovered that silver was the metal that appeared to interfere, something that I should have known if I'd tried looking up shapechanging in the literature of myth and magic. Anyway, the addition of a heavy silver bracelet made using my power almost impossible. I could sleep peacefully again. Then my power stretched. I was on a date with an old girlfriend when it happened. Well, technically, it was after the date. Men fantasise. We do. Apparently it's completely natural. What wasn't so natural was looking at my date and seeing her becoming my fantasy! Her breasts became firm and round, larger, as did her lips and her hair became longer and lighter. I almost tripped over myself if that were possible in our position. I concentrated on her old form, which did somewhat put me off my stride, and made her look up at me queryingly, but it worked. I reached subtly for my ring and slipped it on, and there were no more transformations that night. Maybe I left her breasts a little firmer than they used to be. Something else caused me to think though. That night she'd been engrossed in a phone call, and ignoring my advances, as is the wont of older women. Or, I suppose, the wont of all women. As I was stroking her back I wanted her to become aroused. She did. That never really happened before. Sometimes, yes, but only odd occasions. Was it something I did? So, to sum up, after a few weeks of experimentation I knew that I could transform myself, knew that I could transform someone else, though presumably only when I was touching them, and thought that might be able to affect people's thoughts, and that presumably only when I was touching them too. I didn't know how much I could transform myself, or others, or if I could impact my own thoughts, though that seemed a bit fanciful. What could I make myself do or not do that I wouldn't want to do or not do anyway? There was also a danger. I could really mess up lives with a stray touch and a stray thought. I started wearing the ring and the bracelet at all times. In order that people didn't wonder what was going on, I started to do things that supported my own transformations. I started going back to the gym, and was able to effect the changes I wanted over a reasonable period of time. I firmed up, bulked up slightly, and just adjusted my looks to the slightly younger side. People noticed, but they knew about my new lifestyle, and the comments were simply complimentary. Women in work were noticing me, and one new girl in a nearby department I noticed back. We met in the kitchen, we started to chat, we had some interests in common, and we started to go out for coffee to chat about those interests. At the office Christmas party we ended up in the same room, her room, finding some other interests in common. After Christmas, we fell in love. I'd not been involved in a deep relationship since my divorce, many years before. Sarah and I had passion, and new, intense love, and I knew it was real because I always wore silver, more silver, as Sarah bought me a silver necklace to match the bracelet, which I always wore when I was with her. There was no way my power could work through that amount of silver. My thoughts over the following months became odd. I might have become stressed with the new relationship, splitting up with my already ex, and the joys of trying to maintain my house and job. I started to come up with fantastic plans for what I could do, but they always involved my powers. What were they for if not to help people? Where was a better place to start helping people than by helping myself? I started to practise with my powers more, especially in the office, where I could observe the effects and understand what changes I had made. There was a group of Indian software developers. One day I nudged one to forget how to speak Hindi, his language. The stress it caused him was almost instant. From what I could understand from his heavily accented English he could remember being able to speak Hindi, but simply couldn't. I nudged him to remember it again. That was the flaw. He couldn't. I'd made him competely forget a whole language and it had been wiped from his brain, so when I wanted him to recall it there was nothing there for him to recall. I puzzled over this as he sat as his desk, his head in his hands, as his colleagues varied from laughing at him to worrying and telling him to call a doctor. I had tried to give myself various skills and abilities, but thought that I couldn't affect myself because of the lack of results. That lead me to a brainwave. If I could change someone's thoughts when touching them, inserting my own ideas into their heads, perhaps I could insert their knowledge into mine. I got up and brushed past one of his colleagues and wished that I could speak Hindi as I did so. Eureka! Nothing was taken from him, but as I walked away I could understand their comments and conversation. Now, I knew I could implant thoughts, so how about knowledge of an entire language? Back past my original subject and I wished that he could speak Hindi. His demeanour changed instantly. Suddenly his recall was back. I have no idea if it was the same as it had been before, and I don't think he did either, but he was back in the conversation and back to himself. His colleagues were annoyed at him, really pissed off, that he would play such a trick. I smiled deeply inside. I couldn't only push thoughts, I could pull them too! That day I picked up additional French, gaining a fluency I'd never had, Spanish, and Russian. An immediate difficulty was the babel of languages I began to speak in, completely confusing my workmates. Of course, all were mother tongues. I concentrated internally on making the foreign languages somehow deeper, available to call upon, but not immediately rising to mind. It worked! What an amazing ability! Now I knew I could gain whatever knowledge I wanted, but also give it to other people. The ability to make someone completely forget something however was a danger, and again I was doubly careful to replace my silver the moment I'd completed experimenting. I copied a lot of knowledge from people, but was always specific about what I wanted. Knowledge was easy, I discovered, but experience wasn't. I thought I might be able to claim a better job in my organisation by borrowing a bit of knowledge on project management, but when it was explained why I didn't get the second interview, it all came down to how the knowledge is used. Man management and resource management come down to experience. Experience comes down to wearing a person like a cloak. Yes, it's that easy. I'd been taking knowledge with a touch of experience because I was copying specific areas, like a language. Experience was knowing which words went together when, but over time that built up in the language area. It was knowledge. But there was also how you said the words, your intonation, your accent, some of which was physical and some more personal. These things weren't wrapped up in the language itself, they were part of the person. So, I discovered that I could copy these things, but as I did so I was taking on attributes of the person themselves. It was more necessary to push the knowledge down into the background as accessing it could make you a slightly different person. I think, theoretically, I could swap two people entirely. I could copy one's personality and knowledge and transfer it into another body, then copy and remove the second personality and knowledge and transfer it back into the first, finally removing the original personality and knowledge. Of course, I'd have to delete both my copies too. I figured that to the outsider the two people would appear to have swapped bodies. Whether they had or not was an entirely philosophical question. Now, if I altered one's body to become the second, and the second to become the first one, then they would have swapped bodies! Which one was a real body swap and which one was false? I got wrapped up in wanting to experiment. I mentioned the stress earlier, and looking to help people and myself, but how would it be possible to both use my power and hide it, except very slowly such as I'd done with myself? Anyone that I changed would know about it, and if they connected it to me they'd be more than curious. Unless they already knew about it. I could tell people about the changes I could make, but still I couldn't make changes that would cause others around them to get curious. So no walking around hospitals growing new limbs on amputees. It didn't look like I could be much help to the world, unless the world knew what I could do, and all I could imagine in that case was getting locked up in a lab somewhere. "If you were able to fix kids in hospitals, but didn't want to be caught doing it, how would you go about it?" "Odd question," replied Sarah, smiling at me over her drink. "I'd use a disguise. Like maybe a stylish nurse's uniform with a mask, and call myself Supernurse, or some other heroine name." "Disguise? Wouldn't the hospital security grab you the moment they saw you?" "Yeah, I guess. Perhaps I'd disguise myself as someone who already worked there. That prosthetic mask stuff can make you look like anyone!" "Brilliant. Of course!" "What are you up to, Mr Smith?" "Nothing really. How would you get to different hospitals?" Sarah smirked. "You are up to something, or you're just being odder than usual." "Odder than usual." That Saturday I took the bus to the local city hospital. I'd already changed my appearance as I didn't want to walk into the hospital on camera as myself. I looked for and found the staff area and spotted three medical looking people having a break in a rest area. Grabbing my courage by the balls I approached one at the table and introduced myself as a new doctor, holding out my hand. The guy took it and within moments was excusing himself from the table to show me where all the facilities were. In the changing rooms I got him to find me a uniform, and I copied his entire personality and any knowledge associated with the hospital. Before transforming into him I sent him back to his mates to excuse himself as not feeling well and then head for home. I spent the next two or three hours posing as him and doing as much good as I could, mending eyesight, burns, bones and anything that I could that would make first children, and then any adults I could find, get better. On Sunday I did the same in a smaller hospital about an hour away by train. By Monday the miraculous tales were appearing in the local papers. The doctors in each case had alibis, but were still hailed as modest heroes, with speculation as to how they could have achieved such miracles with a simple laying on of hands. "Jack," Sarah said one morning as I lay in bed with my arms around her, "can you remember a conversation a few weeks back about making kids better in hospitals?" "No?" I answered, hoping the subject would go away. "Really? Someone's been doing it for a few weeks now. Well, I wouldn't have thought of it if some investigative journo hadn't written a piece on it, but the same thing happening all over the country but only at one hospital a day on weekends. It smacks of one person really, and remembering our conversation I wondered if you knew who it was?" I paused. "Nope, no idea. Not sure what you're on about." She smiled, and I felt her hand slip around my cock as she started to stroke it. "Really? I keep saying that, don't I? Don't answer that! You and I are going to spend the day together tomorrow, and I'm betting that the miracles don't happen." Damn! And she was getting me really hard too, so I couldn't really think of a way around that. As usual she got me so horny so quickly I couldn't think anything at all! "Okay, you win! It is me." She stopped immediately, a look of surprise on her face. "No way! How?" "I travel to a random hospital, assume the identity of one of the doctors, then help anyone I find who has some kind of physical issue." "What?! How? You're not a doctor. Even doctors can't do what they're saying. How can you assume their identity? You're having me on!" She smiled. "And you're keeping a straight face, you bastard!" I didn't smile. "Sarah, really, it is me. But how about I show you?" I slipped off my jewellery and put it beside the bed. For effect I closed my eyes and appeared to be concentrating, but really it was simple as I slipped into the shape of the last doctor I'd portrayed, a big blond guy built like a rugby player. Sarah jumped out of the bed, backwards. Standing there naked covering her more private parts with her hands she demanded, "Who are you?" I changed back. "I'm Jack. Always have been." She reached for a robe hanging behind the door and slipped it on. She stood there hugging herself. "What are you?" "That's more difficult. Up until my fortieth I was just a normal guy." She looked at me oddly and I paused. "You're not forty!" "I've told you my birthday, Sarah!" "I never remembered the year. I always thought you were about thirty, a little older than me." "Ah," I sighed, remembering my 'youthening' program. "I did tell you the year I was born." "But you made yourself look younger." "Yes, a little. I didn't realise it looked so much younger." "What about fixing the kids in the hospitals?" "I can change other people physically too. Replace limbs, mend bones, fix skin. I just need to touch them so I posed as a doctor." "Could you change me?" "Yes, I could. But I don't want to." "You never have changed me, have you? Could I tell?" "If I just made a physical change, of course you'd be able to tell. All the kids know a miracle happened!" "Just a physical change? Can you make mental changes too? Could you make me like you?" "Sarah, you're jumping to conclusions! I've never changed you. I don't want to." I slipped my jewellery back on. "I always wear this stuff, and it stops me making changes. I'd hate to make an accidental change that really impacted someone in a bad way, so I wear silver. It dampens my ability. Honestly, I'm not really sure I want the ability, and until the kids I couldn't see any positive use for it at all!" "Silver stops you making changes? How do I know that?" I paused. "I don't know. It does though. Why are you asking? Don't you trust me?" It was her turn to pause. "I do." "But?" "But how can I trust someone who could be my cousin, or brother, or the barman at my local? You could pretend to be my sister's boyfriend and I'd never know you were cheating on me. Can you affect people's minds too? How did you fake out the doctors in those hospitals?" "I can change people's minds too. I can absorb or donate knowledge. I can make someone forget something. I can give people ideas that they think are their own, and make them act on them." "So you could make me like you?" "I don't know. Maybe, maybe not. I could make you look at me, perhaps be interested in me, make you meet me for dinner. But eventually it would fall apart somewhere." She bit her lip timidly, and thought. "Yes, it might fall apart somewhere, and it hasn't yet. I want to trust you. That silver really stops you? You can't change me?" "Can't when I'm wearing it, and won't anyway, unless you want me to?" She smiled slightly, a little turning up at the corners of her mouth. "A girl's greatest fantasy? To be perfect?" "A man's greatest fantasy, the girlfriend who doesn't ask if her bum looks big." She giggled, spontaneously. Then she caught herself, weakly, as though she thought she shouldn't be laughing. "Oh, fuck!" she said. "Whether I can help the way I feel about you or not, I feel that way about you. I do trust you." She slipped off her gown and sidled back into the bed. "Okay, prove you can make changes apart from to yourself. Give me a smaller ass and a flat stomach." "No." "No? What do you mean, 'no'?" "I don't want to give you a smaller ass! I might want to give you a bigger one! And how about bigger boobs too?" "I thought you said you didn't want to change me!" she shrieked as she hit me. "Ow! No, I don't. But a guy can dream, can't he?" "Fantasise, you mean!" And nothing did change for a few days, except that Sarah became very curious about what I could and couldn't do, and kept pressing me for more and more details. Finally, on Friday morning, as we woke up together, she proposed an idea. "Change me into you for the day, and you become me." "What?!" "Come on, it'd be easy, right? You transform me into you, and you into me. We help each other get ready, and then I can sit at your desk doing my work, and you can sit at mine doing yours. We each know everyone else around in the office, so it'd just be fun, and everyone knows we're together so no problem if we need to speak every now and then. Come on, it'll be a real laugh!" "Not exactly what I thought about when I tried to figure out what to do with this power..." "No one's stopping you using it as me, are they?" "I guess not. I've never changed somebody into somebody else." "But you can do it. You do it to yourself." "Yes, but..." She sighed. "What's the problem?" "I've never tried changing into a woman before." "Aww, baby! Why is it any different?" "I don't really know, but it is, isn't it." "I don't know, I've never been a man. But I'd love to give it a try! Standing up to pee, what a laugh!" I did smile at that. "I suppose I'm used to sitting some of the time, so that won't be so different. But your clothes, and shoes, and hair, and makeup!" "Couldn't you borrow my knowledge?" "I could, but I'm not sure I'd feel comfortable, even if I knew what I was doing." "Can't you make yourself feel comfortable?" I stopped to consider that. I frowned. "Maybe, but I don't feel comfortable about making myself feel comfortable." "Could you make it temporary, or something that you can sort of act like you're okay but stay yourself underneath?" "Surely if I did that I'd still feel uncomfortable, but not be able to do anything about it?" She made a moue. "I suppose so. But hey, can we figure it out as we go along? I really want to do this!" "I guess so. Okay, just for you. But only because I like you. A little." "Pig." Thirty minutes later we were ready to go. Being a Friday it was a casual day so we were both in jeans, though mine were incredibly tight on the backside and low, hipsters. They were flared, enabling me to wear high heeled boots. Up top I wore a bra-top, more like a t-shirt just about holding in my B-cup breasts, and coming down to just above my bellybutton. Over that I wore a long arran cardigan that was about the length of a coat, and belted up like a gown, with a big, wide, dark brown leather belt, making modest anything that might have shown through the clubwear underneath. I copied Sarah's knowledge on hair and makeup to do myself right, though it took a few goes with the makeup to get my hand to go where I knew it should. Sarah meanwhile put on my jeans and surfer t-shirt, with a dark blue cardigan over the top that really set off my, or her, eyes. She was also wearing my boots, Chelsea boots in black leather. Jewellery we got a little confused with. Sarah thought it made sense for her to wear mine, as I always did, and it was for men. She searched around for any silver jewellery that she had and I ended up with a slightly large pair of hoop earrings and a load of bangles, but no necklaces or rings. I did my hair in a simple ponytail, though it looked a little bit of a Liverpool facelift with those big hoops hanging from my ears. I looked very slightly trampy in my own estimation. We drove the five minutes in from Sarah's house together. In my car. Sarah driving. "This is so odd," she said. "The seatbelt on your chest, it's so flat you don't feel a thing!" "Oh, God, I know!" I replied, relieved that she'd raised the subject. "This belt is squashing one side and the other feels completely exposed, bouncing around over bumps. How can you put up with this?" "I don't even remember feeling uncomfortable, until now feeling so comfortable! I guess I got completely used to it. Bras help a lot more, of course, but I figured you ought to have the whole experience." "Thanks," I responded sarcastically. "Well, if you want the whole experience, how do you feel about this thing?" I said as I reached across and stroked my hand over her fly, about where I expected to find her new penis. And, as I expected, after a moment I felt it twitch, and then expand in my hand. "Jesus, what is that? Stop that! No, don't stop that! Wow, that feels so good, and so instant!" I took my hand away. "But you're driving, so I'd better not distract you." "Please," she said, "distract me! It's like a demand, isn't it, and a moment ago I couldn't even feel it was there!" I laughed. "I guess I got used to it, but you should have the whole experience!" "Pig!" She laughed. "Or should that be sow? Oh, I can't get my mind off that thing now. How do you deal with it?" "Just concentrate on the road." I felt very uncomfortable about walking into the office. I think Sarah was nervous too, but she seemed to take it in her stride. "How come you aren't nervous about this?" I asked quietly as we stepped up the stairs. "I am," she replied, "but it feels like it does every day for me, thinking that everyone's going to be checking me out, my hair and my clothes, and either accepting me or not, so I'm always a little nervous about whether I look good, but you push it aside. I'm just pushing the same feeling aside." "I never worry about that stuff, but right now I feel like I'm wearing a clown suit, and everyone is just going to point and laugh!" She looked at me as we got to the office door. "That's why this is so good. It's experience, isn't it, of what each other goes through. Please don't go cheating and making everything feel normal for you or something like that." I smiled. "I won't cheat. But if you feel something's wrong, just come over and tell me." She leaned in to kiss me, and I felt the press of her lips on my lipstick, the oddity of kissing up rather than down. "You'd better go touch that up," she said, as she wiped her own lips with the back of her hand. "See you shortly, lover." I almost stepped into the gents. I knew I should go into the ladies, but it was just habit. I caught myself in time. In front of the mirror I touched up my lipstick. I looked back in consternation at the cubicles. I wasn't worried about sitting. But what would it feel like? Would it be weird to squirt stuff with no ability to aim, except kinda downwards? Not yet, thank goodness. I steeled myself to try it though. I wouldn't cheat, it was all about the experience. Ceri greeted me as I got to Sarah's desk. I knew her, she was quite pleasant, but quiet. I was happy about that. I didn't log on as Sarah, I logged on as myself and got on with some email responses about the project I was designing a system for. Ceri went to fetch coffee, and the start of the morning went easily as I got wrapped up in my work. Even the first toilet break of the day went well, although I managed to underestimate the amount of toilet paper required and needed to thoroughly wash my hands. Gordon, Sarah's boss, arrived shortly before lunch. He was far more boisterous than Ceri, and than Arpita who had silently but smilingly arrived at some stage. He didn't greet everyone, simply launched into a pub lunch invitation that none of us were allowed to refuse. I messaged Sarah to find out how things were going. She sent me back a simple statement. "I weed." Then a load of smileys. It took me a moment before I realised that she too had gone to the toilet, and obviously enjoyed it. I asked her if she'd done anything else. "What do you mean?" "Did you go into a cubicle, and, you know, try it out?" "Ewwww," came the response. "I can't do that!" "Guys do," I typed. "Do they? Don't do that with my body!!!!!!!" I laughed. Then typed, "I don't really feel like it. Not thought about that. Too much work." "You've made me think about it, and it's gone big again!" I sent her back a series of smilies. Then "would you like me to do something about it, if you're not going to?" "YES!!" "Later." "I'm holding you to that!" I signed off and momentarily wondered what I might have just let myself in for. Then we all got up and took a walk down to the pub. I hated walking in heels. They weren't big heels, Sarah had dressed me in some fairly chunky low ones, but the extra couple of inches pushed me forward and I had to throw my shoulders back and tense my butt. It didn't take long to come together, but I couldn't imagine tottering around on stilettoes! At the pub everyone became more animated, and I was answering questions about myself, and the relationship I was having with myself, whilst Gordon went to get the drinks. Even Arpita wanted the low down. It was funny, but I was well aware that I might not be saying the things that Sarah herself would have said, and if these conversations were commonplace then Ceri or Arpita might notice something out of place. But I think I passed. When Gordon came back the conversation shifted back to more mundane work details, and I kept quieter. Unfortunately Gordon got round to asking me about something that Sarah was working on, and whether it would be finished that day. I extemporised a little, but managed not to promise that it would be, just in case Sarah wasn't able to. On the way back, slightly more unsteadily, Ceri asked me if they were new boots. "No," I replied, "why?" "Because you're walking a little like you've got blisters or something. Must be the pint!" "Yeah." I laughed, shrugging it off. I asked Sarah if she had done the work Gordon was talking about, and she responded that she had. "Nobody gets on your back, do they?" she asked me, presumably about my team and where I worked. "No," I said. "We all just get on with our own stuff in our own time. As long as you hit your deadlines it's fine." "Really? Gordon is on my back all the time for any little thing! I can't get on with one thing as there's always three or four to be done at the same time and he can never decide which one he wants me to work on! I like the attitude in your team." "It's nice," I finished. We finally met face to face again at the end of the day. "There's something odd!" Sarah remarked immediately, looking at my chest. "I'm not that flat, am I?" I looked down into the cardigan. The bra-top was hanging a bit loose up top. "Oh? I've shrunk? Does that ever happen?" "No!?" she replied. "Did you cheat?" "Not that I can remember. I never took the jewellery off, but I did think that these tit things were a bit annoying, especially walking and this morning in the car. I kinda wanted them to go, but never purposely tried." "You do usually wear more silver, judging by what I've borrowed off you. Perhaps that wasn't enough to block your power?" "Perhaps." We talked in the car about how things had gone with our days and it sounded like Sarah really enjoyed hers, though she remarked that she felt less wanted somehow, as a person to talk to or gossip with, and felt a little out of touch with everyone around her. The other bit she didn't feel exactly comfortable with was the fact that she could be so easily distracted by the thing between her legs, when she'd paid so little attention to what was between her legs before. "When we get in," she said with a growl, "I want to try this thing out, and you're going to help me!" "Ooh," I simpered, "you do know how to romance a girl!" And there was a bit of a problem when we got in, which was that I didn't feel as much desire to try things out as Sarah obviously did. I don't know if there was some difference in hormone levels or something like that, which meant that Sarah wanted to use her equipment but I had no intention of having it used on me. The whole thing didn't just feel gay, physical gender aside, but completely wrong. I couldn't find a penis attractive in any way, though I could find Sarah, in my body, somewhat attractive. She didn't turn me on though. In fact, if I look back through the day, I can't remember being turned on at all, not even once. So when she kissed me, which felt nice because it was still a Sarah kiss, odd things like tilting my face upwards and feeling the hardness and slight bristle of the skin around her lips made it wrong. Wrong enough to put me out of the nice mood no matter what nice things were happening. After sitting down on the sofa to kiss and both naturally tending to our positions of me in the corner and her to the side and slightly above me, we knew that everything was going wrongly. She was too tall to kiss me from on top, and too heavy! "Jack?" said Sarah, after my last laughing fit. "Can we just go upstairs?" I could hear a slight strain in her voice, as though she'd reached the end of her humour. "Perhaps it would be better to change back?" I asked her. "That would spoil it, wouldn't it? There's just this one more thing I want to try out, and I was hoping you'd want to experience it too." "I don't really want to, Sarah. There, I've said it, I don't." "Alright. Well, I appreciate you asking, I guess. You could have just turned us both back." I took off all the jewellery and slipped out of Sarah's clothing. There was no doubt that my boobs had shrunk, so I guessed that there wasn't enough silver, as Sarah had suggested. I wondered momentarily what big boobs would feel like, but judging by what normal boobs had felt like I wasn't sure about going there. I looked up at Sarah and saw her staring at my chest as I handled it, or them. She looked up at me the moment she knew I was watching her. "Sorry," she said. "I never had a thing for women before, and I don't think I do now, but there are some things that have just caught my attention today - a movement, a shape - it's like everything is so visual! You see something and your body reacts." I looked down at the tent in her jeans, and she smiled as she saw me looking. She put her hand down, but covering it or rubbing it I don't know. "Yeah, that's the part of the body that reacts. How do you deal with it?" "I try to get you to deal with it." I smiled. "Like you've discovered, it doesn't get dealt with as often as you might like!" "Are you sure you don't want to help out here?" she asked with a wink. "Okay, here..." I replied, and then transformed back into myself, the mirror image of the body opposite me. "Well, yes, I guess that might help. Though now you look like the guy I really fancy, and that gives me a little buzz too." "Give me my clothes back, Sarah." "Okay," she sighed, and began slipping them off. I figured it wasn't so bad that I transform her in the clothes, as she wouldn't burst out of them, so I reached across and touched her hand as she undressed. But nothing happened! She didn't change back! I waited until she was completely naked. "Come on then," she shrugged. I changed her back into the form I preferred her to be in, and this time it worked. She gathered up her clothes and headed off upstairs. "Aren't you going to put those on?" I asked. She looked back over her shoulder with a raised eyebrow. "You've been wearing them all day! You think I'm putting on dirty clothes?" I mentioned the incident of not being able to change her that evening. "So, if I'm wearing silver, you can't affect me?" she mused. "It looks like it," I replied, also musing. "That's good to know," she stated, "but you know what? I trust you anyway. You had a power over me even before I knew you had this crazy magic. And you're bigger, and stronger. A girl has to trust to other devices to keep her man under control. I've put my faith in you, and I do trust you. You're a great guy, and you're my guy." "Thank you!" I smiled, slightly embarassed. "Yeah, so stay my guy, alright?" "Alright." And Sarah rarely did wear silver. But I didn't always stay her guy. She seemed to like spending time, brief time, as me in the office, and declared, with my agreement, that Friday was our body swap day. We changed just before heading to the office, and changed back soon after arriving home. I grew accustomed to my time in Sarah's body, and she had bought herself some extra silver to ensure I didn't cheat even subconsciously. I improved in heels enough to start experimenting, and became reasonably proficient at both make up and simple hairstyling. I even was able to pass as Sarah workwise, as long as she was available to actually do the work I talked about with Gordon, Ceri and Arpita. I read a lot of her stuff, and got a bluffer's overview. I'm sure she could do the same with mine. It actually helped in our regular day to day conversations, being able to relate to each other's work and workmates. Of course I could probably have switched some of our knowledge too, but I was still wary of that, as it meant changing myself in a way I couldn't quite agree with. Which might be why I had an issue with Sarah's next idea. I guess a certain level of 'guy stuff' had been building up in her since that first time I turned down her idea of sex. As a guy, in my body, which was somewhat youthened and spruced up I suppose, she wanted sex. It was a physical drive. She admitted to still fancying men, especially me when she looked in a mirror, but also got aroused by things that aroused men. Rather than being uncomfortable with that she seemed to take it in her stride, as though the body was stronger than the mind in that regard. She justified her desire for sex with a woman by saying that it was really sex with me, a man, just in a woman's body. There were two aspects to her idea, apart from the fact that she wanted to be the man and me the woman. She wanted me to want sex, and she wanted me to want it when she wanted it. "That's such a man thing!" I laughed. "You mean you think about it too?" "Not with you. Well, sometimes. Sometimes I can't understand why you're not interested, but it's something you learn to live with, and it's part of our relationship. Men want sex more than women. We have way more sex hormones, and apparently we're designed to screw as many women as possible as often as possible. After so many generations of evolution we can't escape our sex drive. I think you women have a similar thing, but you refer to it as a biological clock. And it involves getting the guy to stay with you and look after you and the baby too. Strangely, society is on your side, not ours." "So you would like me to have a button you could push and I'd give you sex on demand?" "Yes, and no. Sometimes I'd give anything to find it, but I can imagine it getting boring. You might as well be a robot." "A sex doll?" "Something like that. A sex slave. Tied up and gagged on the bed for my pleasure." She smiled. "I can see you like the idea. You could give me that button, you know?" "That would change you." "I know," she smiled again and kissed me sweetly. "What was that for?" I asked when she broke away. "I love you," she said. "I love you too." And I meant it. "I'd like to tie you up," she said, enticingly. "Come on then." I replied suggestively. "Not yet. I have a little reservation about tying you up, which is that you could just change yourself and get out at any time." "Not if I was wearing my jewellery." "I suppose, yes," she looked a little glum, like I'd burst her balloon. "I guess I wasn't thinking of the simple. I was going to ask you for something more complicated." "What do you mean? What were you going to ask for?" She paused for thought. I let the moments tick by and didn't interrupt. Finally, "Would you spend tomorrow night as a girl for me?" "Saturday night? As you?" "Yes, and no, not as me. As someone completely different." "Would you be someone completely different too?" "No, and yes, I'd be you. I'm happy as you, and I think you're more comfortable if I'm you rather than someone else." I let that one go. "We'd be going out?" "Of course," she bit her lip slightly. "I had an invite out earlier." "Really? Did you?" It took a moment to sink in. "Hang on, earlier you were me! Someone invited me out? The guys know I'm with you, so they'd expect you to come with me, not some other girl." "It wasn't a work invite. Because I was on your computer when I opened up the social pages I went straight in as you. So you got an invite on there, and I accepted." "On my social site? Who from? I haven't been on there in a while!" "From Lydia." "Lydia? My ex?" Sarah pursed her lips momentarily. "I did wonder if it was an ex, based on the messages she sent." "Yes, she's an ex. An ex from way back that I did have a fling with more recently, but it was over before I met you." She smiled. "I know. It's not about that. I just wondered if I could play with her a little." "What do you mean?" "Well, she seemed to think, from what I read, that you might possibly get back together, even if only for the night. When I mentioned a girlfriend in response she said a few things that wound me up a bit." "Like what? She knows nothing about you. I haven't been in touch with her since we went our separate ways." She giggled. "Stop worrying! I'm not mad at you because some ex tried to get back in touch with you! Look, you can blame me for leading her on, I accepted the invitation. And I said I would bring my girlfriend as it's a whole group of her workmates going out." "Right, so, why are you going as me, and why don't you want me to go as you?" "I'm going as you because that way I know nothing will happen, but I think it would be great fun if you observe, especially the feelings of the ex for the present girlfriend. That would be a real girly experience. And for me, to see what two girls fighting over a guy is really like. Do you really ignore it, or simply not notice it?" "Still, why do I not go as you?" "Some of the things she said. Let's just say I'd really like to throw you in her face." Sarah didn't let on about what Lydia might have said for the rest of the evening, or the next morning when we got up. She then went out shopping, leaving me to my own devices as she didn't want me to come. In fact, she decided that I couldn't miss a day helping out kids, so sent me on my way with a deep kiss, probably just to remind me of exactly what position she held in my life. Lydia, what could she want? I did go online to see what they'd cooked up, but smartly Sarah had deleted the messages associated with the event. The event itself was simply dinner, drinks and dancing, that same evening. I guess I had to wait to see exactly what it was Sarah had in mind. When I got back to the house Sarah had already been in and out, but was then out, bustling back in about three minutes after me with arms full of bags. "Right," she called to me, "give me five minutes and then I'll call you upstairs for a fitting!" When I saw what she'd bought, I was a little confused. The dress was stunning, I figured. It was electric blue, shaped like a classic LBD, with what would probably be a very mini skirt. The material was some kind of wool or cotton but very stretchy, so I guessed that Sarah wasn't exactly sure about sizes. Whatever size I became the dress would cling to. The heels she'd put with it, they were higher than anything I'd ever seen in Sarah's closet. Perhaps it was because she intended to have me become shorter than her own quite tall 5'7". In which case, the stretch dress for a small woman would be unnecessary, and she wouldn't want me to become fat or something, surely? It would all become clear, I'm sure. "Shall we begin?" She asked. "You are okay with this, aren't you, Jack?" I wondered. Being Sarah was a learning experience, and fun, as long as it stayed simple. This was a step into the unknown. But I could always say no. So why not try it and see what plans Sarah had in store? "Yes," I replied tentatively. She laughed. "Don't worry! I'm going to have fun, with you, and I won't let anything happen to you!" First I changed Sarah into a copy of me. Then I changed me into a copy of Sarah. "That's nice, Jack, but there's only one thing I want you to have from me if you don't mind. Can you have the standard girl skills?" That's what I called them, and Sarah liked it. It meant make up, and hair, and those little things that girls knew about that boys generally didn't. "Are you also able to use my name instead of yours?" "And you use mine?" I asked. "Yes. Make me respond to Jack and you respond to Sarah." I complied. "Hi, my name is Jack. I'm Jack," she tried, and smiled. "That's great! It's like I know logically my name is Sarah, but I naturally use Jack. I remember being called Sarah right up to a second ago. Easy. I love your talent!" Likewise I knew I was Jack, but allowed Sarah to pop up in my mind. It was a change I could bear and easily live with. "Right. Now to the tougher bit. Yesterday I was doing a little research, and I've printed off a few pictures. Can you become this woman?" She took out a number of sheets of paper from my laptop bag. I looked over them. "Did you get these in work?!" I nearly shrieked. She laughed. "No! I wouldn't do that to you! You could get fired. No, I went along to the internet cafe at lunchtime, and they're not that risque. She's fully dressed." I looked closely. I didn't know the woman, or girl, perhaps. To my more experienced eyes she did look very young, perhaps eighteen or twenty? Of one thing there was no doubt. She was utterly stunning. Blonde hair in quantities that reminded me of Anna Kournikova. The face of an angel with piercingly blue eyes. Not a skin and bones model body either, long legs supporting a reasonable pair of hips and two decent handfuls of breast. There was a certain fresh faced, straight toothed American look to her, which gave the impression of cheerleader. I took in all the details, with the pictures covering all angles, and concentrated on taking her form. My talent didn't let me down at all and for the first time of imagining being someone I actually became that someone, physically anyway. Sarah nodded her approval. Weird that, I thought, that even though I thought of myself as Sarah, I also thought of her as Sarah. Anyway, she nodded her approval, and a quick look in the mirror told me I pretty much got it right. "Yes," Sarah said, "that's exactly the base I'm after. Two of the words Lydia used were gorgeous and blonde, and she also talked about lots of hair, so that's exactly it. But now you are too tall. Those heels are 4 inches, so I need you to lose that much in height. Perhaps it would be better if you put them on for a moment?" I marked a spot on the mirror, and then stepped into the heels. They were a bit too big. Still, if I was going to shrink I would shrink proportionally, so I concentrated on two things which were shrinking down to the mark and fitting the shoes. There was a little discomfort having small feet in such high heels so I alleviated that too. I'm not sure how exactly, but my talent came through again, and I felt comfortable perched up on the balls of my feet. "Little. Perfect. Wow, you seem so... petite. Small but perfectly formed. Okay, underwear. First, sizing knickers, before the real thing." "Sizing knickers?" "Yeah, you can't wear anything but a thong under that dress, so to get the size right I've got a pair of midis here. Slip them on." I took them from here and without even removing the heels I pulled them up my legs to wear they sat too loosely on my hips. "They're the wrong size," I stated. "You're the wrong size," Sarah responded in her deep voice. "Widen your hips a little and fill out your ass until they sit properly. Don't let your waist get any bigger." I did so, and suddenly I was looking at a large butt above the long legs, pushed out by wearing heels, yet somehow much sexier in a blatant way than my previous cute little curve. "You need a little more filling out in the thighs to match," Sarah noted. "But not too much. Just soften them." I did so, and straight model pins became fuller, somehow more regularly feminine legs. "Excellent. Now take this and put it on," she handed me a bra. At least it looked like a bra at first, except for the size of it. I was expecting a wisp of lace, and took hold of a rucksack of netting. Two rucksacks. "How big is this thing?!" I pleaded. "Well, it's 34J, but Marks and Spencers are a bit strange and they miss a size or two out that other ranges have, so I think it's really a 34GG." "What the hell is that? You're 36B, aren't you?" "Yes, or 34C, sometimes either will fit." "So I got annoyed enough at having C cups jiggling around on my chest to reduce them without thinking about it, and now you want me to have what, double G cups?" Sarah laughed. "You look so cute when you're pouting!" "I don't have to look like this, you know?" I threatened. "Okay," she agreed calming down. "There are a couple of reasons I went out and found the biggest cupped bra I could find for a small woman, and be lucky I didn't shop online! First it was because you shrunk my boobs when you tried them out. I know you've had them normal sized since for each Freaky Friday, but I figured you really ought to know what it's like to carry around all that flesh, and Lydia did write both big-titted and busty, so I figured we should go all out. I will make it worth your while!" "How?" I asked as I fumbled to clip the strap on in front of me, then flip the bra round and up, sliding my arms into the wide white straps. "I have an idea which I hope you'll like." "Okay," I sighed, "tell me when you're ready." I then added flesh to my chest until the cups fit snugly. The weight on my shoulders was quite telling, and I think I automatically strengthened myself to deal with the problem. "Fabulous!" The large man next to me smiled, and I'll swear that he was ogling my new mounds. "Sarah?" I said with a little venom, and he guiltily looked up. "I'm Jack," he mentioned. "It took me a second there to figure out you were talking to me! Can you make it so that you think I'm Jack, not Sarah?" "Sure," I said, making the necessary mental adjustment. Again, nothing much, and I could remember logically who I should be and the changes I'd made, so no problem. Suddenly the man next to me was Jack. I knew he was Sarah, but only if I stopped to think about it. I looked up at myself in the mirror again, and was almost blown away! This girl had everything a man could want, and this girl was me! I had no idea my talent was so powerful! I knew I could become other people, but this was phenomenal! I was turning myself on by looking at myself, and touching myself to check that bits were real, and it was a new and odd sensation. Something in my midriff was sending me tingling sensations, and a very slightly uncomfortable feeling of getting damp and slick, like I was wetting myself. I looked down, but the huge breasts got in the way, and I found I instinctively held them as I leaned forward even with the bra proving supportive. I put a hand down, but there was nothing there, no damp patch, just that odd sensation and a feeling of emptiness in there. Jack was watching me and there was a large bulge in his jeans at the equivalent point was hand was resting on me. I looked up. He looked a little flushed, slightly red in the face. I'd just been giving him a show and he was reacting! "Right," he tried to say, then coughed to clear his throat and tried again. "Right, let's finish this off, shall we." He smiled nervously. I guess females did have weapons that could work on any man, even ones that were women inside. So visually reactive, that male brain, and their bodies so full of hormones. "Okay. Are you going to tell me why you're doing this to Lydia's specifications, and where they came from?" "All in good time. First, you remember that time that I wanted to try out you controlling me and you gave me a codeword?" "Yes." I recalled Sarah asking me so she could feel what it was like if she was forced to do something against her will. We had a long conversation about it, including talking about rape if I made her do something she didn't want to, but she argued that it couldn't be if she was asking me to make her do it. She wondered if I could give her something that would be like a post-hypnotic trigger and so I didn't tell her, but gave her a phrase to start it and a word to stop it. All she knew was that I'd touched her, and had no idea what I would make her do. She then made me put on my protective silver again, and she wore hers, to test whether the command would stay. Even then I waited as her frustration mounted, then as she started to get involved in her favourite soap I said, "blow me." And she did, turning to face my lap even as her favourite characters started to argue on screen. She tore at my trousers and went down on me the moment she managed to free my cock, sucking it to fullness. "Oh, God, Jack," she cried in frustration just before she put me in her mouth, and then she could only mumble her surprise, and possible displeasure, as my cock stopped her making any meaningful noises. "Stop," I said, and she backed off, free of the compulsion. "That was so weird!" she exclaimed. Then she smiled. "But I guess I've started so I'll finish." And she went back down on me. After swallowing my quickly following cum she got back up. "That was fun!" she exclaimed. "I'm glad you picked something I don't mind doing, but I wasn't thinking about it. Suddenly I had to do it and I couldn't stop myself at all. Then the compulsion just went away, and I could do what I wanted again. I could still speak, except for a mouthful of cock, so it was like as long as I was doing what you ordered I could do anything else and be myself, I just had to do that. Weird!" That was a week or so ago, and I'd removed the compulsion and commands straight after, but they had worked like we'd expected post-hypnotic commands to work, and there was obviously none of my talent involved after the creation of the command. So yes, I remembered that. "What are you thinking of?" I asked Jack. "Just bear it in mind a moment. I wanted to make sure you recalled how to do it. Anyway, first, let's finish your physical changes before anything for me. Can you give yourself four piercings in each ear, three regular and then one high up?" That was easy, and took less than a thought. Jack then laid out four pairs of earrings on the bed, including one pair of wide bands more like small tubes for the upper holes, two smaller sets of hoops and one huge that would probably hang to my shoulders. "Now, can you take the bra off?" With a bit of fumbling behind my back I did so, and watched carefully as Jack reacted. My breasts didn't sag at all, perhaps some side effect of my strengthening things to take the weight, but they seemed almost unreal in their firmness and float. "I hope you like this one," he smiled. "Most breasts as they get larger become less sensitive. Small boobs are pretty sensitive. Men, I'm sure, would like things to be the other way around. So can you make your breasts very sensitive to pleasure? And the nipples, make them a bit wider and a bit longer, and make them sensitive like your cock is, or was. Sensitive so that a touch or stroke will make them erect, and a pair of lips sucking on them will feel like a blow job?" "Really? Is that real? Is that something I should experience?" Jack looked askance at me. "It's not real. Like I said, it's something that I'm sure most men would love, but it doesn't really happen. If you're going to experience something, like big tits, I was thinking we might as well go for the whole fantasy. The whole fantasy of the woman who is somehow sensitive to pleasure in every erogenous zone, but especially her tits. Surely if having huge boobs is an inconvenience that you can understand in a night, then having to avoid men touching them is a learning experience, and yet their sensitivity is a fair reward of having your talent. Don't you want to get a kick out of it if you're going to have to endure this for me?" "Every erogenous zone you said?" "Yeah. I mean just your tits would be great, but why not be super responsive to pleasure. It'll make being a woman incredibly nice, and bearable, regardless of the downsides of me giving you the full T and A experience." "I suppose it would, wouldn't it? If the jiggle gets annoying I can just feel myself up?" I laughed. "You jest, but I'll guarantee you'll love it if you make the change." I thought about it a moment, then decided that it would make a bearable change, making being a woman become a truly fun night out, and, as Jack said, almost a response to male fantasy, being pleasured by having my tits felt up. I concentrated on making my body pleasurably responsive to touch, especially my huge breasts, responsive like having my penis stroked would have been. "Have you done that?" Jack asked. I nodded. "Do you mind if I try?" I wondered if allowing my girlfriend to touch me would be okay, or would I rather myself, but then saw her hand approach and before I could consider the options her right hand was on my left breast. Oh, my, God! It was like having my cock stroked by her old form and immediately elicited the response of having my nipple erect tightly, itself feeling like my cock growing. "I can see you like that," she commented, not moving her hand away but instead leaving it on my breast and starting to stroke it gently. I almost pushed my exposed tit into her hand. "I should try this, perhaps," she said, leaning down towards me and not stopping the wonderfully pleasurable stroking. In moments her lips were around my nipple and I felt myself growing towards orgasm like she was blowing me. When her other hand started stroking my other breast I became lost in the pleasure. "Amazing," she commented as she stopped sucking, but I could only nod as her ministrations continued. "Now, my last request. Lydia's last words that I should fulfill." She didn't stop stroking both my breasts and I half listened as I allowed the pleasure to build up, desperately wanting her to suck on my nipple again. "The first word is ditsy, which isn't dumb, but seems airheaded, unable to maintain concentration for long and quite forgetful. The second word is bimbo, which I figure means someone whose hobby and only real interest is in their own looks. The third word is slut, which is someone who really enjoys sex, so much that they seek it out over anything else." I nodded my understanding and agreement as she continued to pleasure me, the pleasure building as I waited desperately for her to put her mouth around my nipple again. "Would you become a ditsy bimbo slut if I gave you the phrase 'Barbie is a ditsy bimbo slut'?" I nodded as she stroked my tits more slowly, moaning at the slight loss of pleasure but still feeling it. "Don't worry at all," she said as she continued more quickly. "If I say 'Barbie is no longer a ditsy bimbo slut' you can revert back to completely yourself, if that's okay?" I nodded again. "And I want you to change your name to Barbie for now, Barbara, not Sarah, so you can be Barbie for short." Anything, I thought, anything but don't stop and suck my tits again. "Is that okay? If I say 'Barbie is a ditsy Bimbo Slut' you become a bimbo slut?" At that she placed her lips around my left nipple and flicked my right with her finger. Oh, God, it felt so good. That's all she wanted? I would give her what she wanted and moaned, begging her to continue. Her lips moved around my nipple. "Have you done that?" she asked, looking up at me. Seeing that look and her mouth so close around my engorged nipple I did as she asked, giving myself the commands to comply to her phrases and change my name to Barbie. I nodded and watched her close on my nipple to suck me off. It felt incredible, and moments later I came. I'd never come as a woman before, and the feeling was like coming as a man except something was missing. I felt an emptiness below, between my legs, an emptiness that made me think that a fullness would feel better. But the simple fact of coming made me too sensitive to want anything else, and I appreciated Jack leaving me alone after I came, taking his hands away from my all too sensitive breasts. "Is that okay?" he asked, with a slight tone of concern. I didn't know. I knew I'd acceded to his requests, but wasn't particularly worried about what he'd asked, as it had felt so good when he asked them. What I knew was that his suggestions for becoming so easy to pleasure were good, entirely good. But right now I was oversensitive and didn't want any more. "Yes," I replied a little breathlessly. "That's okay." "Shall I help you with your earrings?" he asked, and I nodded. It was time to get ready for the night out and somehow I was looking forward to it, though nervous at meeting Lydia again. So my earrings went on, with Jack clipping them into position, and then two small necklaces and a host of bangles and bracelets. Jack even had an anklet for me, a silver chain that sat sweetly above the heels I was still wearing, held with a mini silver padlock like there were on the two charm bracelets. The midi briefs were taken off and replaced by a thong. It was uncomfortable, but Jack promised me that it would be less visible under the dress. The bra was replaced by an electric blue bustier, just slightly darker than the dress with a satiny look and feel. I didn't feel as comfortable as I had in the bra, as the bustier simply seemed to hold up my breasts, with very little in the way of cups, but it held them up securely and firmly. There were no tights or stockings, as Jack thought the dress would be a little too short, and a suspender belt would show too much, so I simply pulled the dress up over my body and marvelled at the way it hugged me like a second skin, giving me front and side profiles that were sexier than anything I could recall seeing online or in magazines. He brushed out my hair for me, and then let it fall over my shoulders. long and bright, falling to the small of my back and not far off the length of the dress. "You look stunning!" he remarked to my simple outfit. "Thank you," I replied sincerely, thinking that I did look stunning as well. "Now, are you going to tell me why you've set me up this way? What did Lydia message you?" "It was simple really." He confirmed. "She invited me out and I said I, or you, whatever, had a girlfriend. She scoffed, saying that she was better unless you had your fantasy, by which I guess she meant some default male fantasy, a big titted, sexy, blonde slutty bimbo. It took a few messages, but that was what she said. So rather than turning her down I decided to show her." "You decided to show her a big titted, sexy blonde?" "Yes. She did mention gorgeous, as I said, and little. Somehow she figured you fantasised about a pint sized sexpot." "I fantasise about you, Jack, you know that." He smiled. "It's amazing how you do that. You call me Jack. What's your name?" "Barbara, of course!" "Barbie?" "For short, if you prefer. I don't mind." "You know you're really Jack, don't you?" "Of course, I remember everything so far, and that I am really Jack, and you're really Sarah. I haven't changed anything in us. We're still ourselves, so that you can put me through this strange experience to teach me some lesson that I don't think I ever needed to learn." Jack laughed. "And you don't mind becoming a ditsy bimbo when I want you to?" I frowned. "I was coerced. But if you want me to act like some self and sex-obsessed airhead then I will. I love you, Jack, and I want you to enjoy this. I know I've been a little stuffy when I've become Sarah, so you can have this any way you want it," I said as I gestured with my hands to show him my whole body. "Odd that you didn't want me to be a bimbo all the time, looking like this, but on your command is fine, if that's what you want." Jack looked at me softly, and then leaned in an kissed me. My lips tingled at his touch and I kissed him back passionately. So some things felt odd, positionally, and my body was giving me all sorts of strange sensations from places I wasn't used to, but I could feel Jack, I mean I could feel Sarah, in the kiss, and that made it good. He finally pulled back. "I didn't want you to be a bimbo all night because I want to spend time with you, Jack." "So," I smiled seductively, "when do you want me to become a bimbo?" "When I get to meet your ex-girlfriend, Lydia." He smiled back. "Though I guess I could get you to become a bimbo anytime, huh?" "On your command, honey." "What will happen? To you, I mean." "I think, like your post-hypnotic suggestion, I'll have to act the way I've imagined, based on your suggestions you made while you were driving me crazy." "So it will still be you?" "I guess. Me, imprisoned in a facade. If I want to go touch up my makeup, I will, but if I want to get involved in a conversation on politics I'll probably stumble over the first word with more than two syllables and be limited to comments on how dreamy the new young party leaders look. I imagine it could get quite frustrating!" Jack laughed. "Perfect!" he stated. "What do you mean by that?" "It's like when you tied me to the bed and got me all wound up and then left that vibrator leaned up against me near my clit. If I moved it would fall down, but it just wasn't in quite the right place to finish me off, and I couldn't get to it to move it. That drove me up the wall, and you just left me there while you went down to the kitchen or something. "Since you showed me your talent I've wondered how I could tie you up, li