Three J s and an S Go Skiing Day 3 Part 1
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A Bad Day For Skiing Part One free porn video
Before I begin my story, I'd like to take a moment to thank those who
read my prior stories. I really hope that this doesn't sound bigheaded,
as I know that hardly anybody knows who I am, but I'm completely
reworking both of those stories into a larger, more complete one.
Characters have been redesigned, the plot has been thought through, and I
really hope that it'll work out much more smoothly than I think it did
last time. I'm thankful for the critique I've gotten both here and
elsewhere, and I think that my writing had improved since I last took a
stab at making a story. I'm not really one for long introductions, and
I'm seriously in the ZONE right now, so without further ado, I present to
you; "A Bad Day for Skiing."
---
The clouds were low, and grey, and rather gloomy overall on this cold
January day. The sun hadn't shined through the overcast gloom since
Christmas, though hardly any precipitation had come down. It was still
bitterly cold in Massachusetts, particularly on the waterfront, and it
was even colder up north. Up here, mountains were capped with snow year-
round, though the rest of the rocky giants would likely be barren in the
warmer months. Today, however, they were completely covered in snow; some
man-made, most natural.
I looked out over the mountain, my sharp eyes picking out individual
skiers and snowboarders as they carved their way down the serpentine
trails of the mountain. Every year, the middle school offered a program
to its students; on Fridays, they would take the trip up to Maine to
carve the trails up until the students couldn't carve anymore, at which
point they'd go and sleep in a nearby hotel. The next day, skiing was
allowed until around noon, at which point everybody that had come with
the school packed it in and went home.
I was with my best friends in the world, as we came on the trip at least
once every year. Matt, Ian, Zach, Quint, and me, all at the top of an
intermediate trail, as high as we really could go. Ian and I were both
snowboarders, Zach and Matt skied, and Quint did whatever the hell he
wanted to. Currently, Quint was also strapped to a snowboard.
We were, in short, about to perform the most badass stunt in the history
of stunt badassery. Matt, as the member of the group who was generally
willing to do anything for the fun of it, was being duct-taped to a sled
by Zach and Quint. We'd sprayed the bottom of said sled with PAM, so the
friction between it and the snow would be minimal. The bottom of my
snowboard had been sprayed as well, so I'd be able to reach speeds that I
hadn't thought possible before.
Our stunt was simple, yet brilliant, and maybe suicidal, maybe not.
Essentially, I was going to have a rope with Matt attached to it. There
was hardly any chance that he'd fall out, as he and Quint worked out a
pattern to taping that would allow him to stick into the sled from almost
any trajectory. We were going to hurtle down the mountain at ridiculous
speeds, scattering groups of small children and dislodging boulders,
until we reached the bottom and either ate shit or pulled smoothly into
the lodge with some cuts and bruises, the heroes of the day.
"Done!" announced Quint. Matt was laid back on the sled (with the use of
his arms) with so much duct tape that I wasn't sure we'd be able to get
him out without industrial-strength scissors or something like them. I
strapped my right foot into the board, and checked how secure I was. My
boots didn't move at all, and with a final tug, I was satisfied. I took
up the rope, knotting it around my wrist and intertwining it with my
jacket and ski gear until my arm was covered in slipknots and clove
hitches.
"You guys ready for this?" I looked around, receiving nods from
everybody. "Right...goggles on." I pulled my own blue-tinted goggles over
my eyes, and checked to make sure they weren't fogging. "Anybody not
strapped to a sled, make sure those taped down don't die. That's the
plan." More nods, this time from heads enshrouded in ski masks and
reflective goggles.
"Let's make history!" I stood up on my board and edged down the slope
until I was in a good starting position. With a deep breath, I turned and
allowed gravity to take over. Within a second, I was at the pace that I
usually snowboarded at, and was still accelerating at breakneck pace. I
felt the rope go taut, and Matt shouted with excitement.
Five seconds after I started moving, I was moving at a speed that was
almost frightening. Trees whipped past in a brown-and-green blur, and the
first turn was in sight. I leaned back on my heels, pulling Matt in the
opposite direction of my lean so that he wouldn't clip a tree, and
sharply turned right. More blurs as the foliage hurtled by. I think we
passed an older gentleman on skis, judging from the surprised noise he
made when we sped past.
The speed...I can't even begin to describe it. Exhilarating to the extreme.
I seemed to be on a different plane of existence from everything else,
where things going at my intense speed moved normally, and everything
else was a blur of color and sound. Winged creatures whirled in the sky,
and I shouted an unintelligible cry in greeting to my fellow speed
demons. I couldn't tell if they were hallucinations brought on by pure
adrenaline or real, but they were there, and I was there, and that was
something.
I took another turn at sonic speed, and something in the way brought me
back to reality. Ahead, several skiers clad in pink and white went slowly
down the mountainside, their lanyards with lift tickets thrown over the
shoulders and their hats signifying them as part of our ski group. I
tried to pull around them, but found it impossible. They were going too
slowly, and I could see that their skis were in a wedge-shaped formation;
beginners!
Zach, a greased streak of lightning, hurtled past me on the left in full
tuck. The speed comparison from a tucked skier to a snowboarder is
incredible even when both have PAM-sprayed gear, and a warning tore
itself from both of our throats at the gaggle of girls. One turned her
head and shrieked; several fell where they were, a few of the better ones
pulled to the very edges of the trail. One didn't. One kept going,
directly in our path.
I tucked down as best I could, getting my free hand, my right hand, ready
to either push, slow down, grab-turn, something! Matt and I were at a
nearly impossible angle. I hunkered even closer to the ground. Just as I
whizzed past her, I grabbed at the snow, sending up a huge spray of the
stuff, all over the girl. I couldn't apologize, as this entire encounter
took place over less than five seconds; all I could do was propel myself
into a turn.
The rope jumped a bit. I could only assume that Matt had hit something,
hopefully the girl or Zach over a boulder or tree. There was a high-
pitched shriek, and I figured he had hit the girl. I tucked and toughed
it, the base of the mountain at the bottom of this last stretch of trail.
"Nearly there!" I shouted back to Matt.
"Faster!" came the reply. I put my right hand in the snow and pushed as
best I could. It wasn't much of a boost, but it worked to the desired
effect; Matt and I screamed down the mountainside, more of a hill at this
point, and people looked up. People at the bottom; they looked up, they
saw us, they screamed, they waved, they cheered. For what reason, I can
only imagine; it may have been the sheer awesome of what we were doing,
the speed, my incredible sexiness overpowering every other sense in the
world at that moment...anything, except maybe that last one.
I didn't back off on the speed one bit until we only had about thirty
yards to go. I turned my board so that I was facing the crowd of people
watching, rather than having them on my right, and skittered to a stop. A
huge spray of man-made snow shot out from under my board and I had time
to right myself just as Matt slammed into me with the kinetic force of a
stampeding elephant from behind. I went head over heels, saw the sky
under my snowboard, and fell hard on my back.
I just laid there for a moment, letting the adrenaline drain out of my
system. I heard Quint and Ian pull up rather smoothly compared to Matt
and I. Painfully, I sat up and unstrapped myself from the board. It was
beginning to get dark out, and we clearly weren't doing any more runs
today. Already, the crowd had begun to disperse. I picked up my snowboard
and motioned as best I could to the lodge. Rather quietly, we cut Matt
free and proceeded inside.
All five of us ordered food, and sat down at a table. The excitement was
coming back, now, but without the energy of it all. We began to discuss
the stunt with great gusto, praising Matt's performance and my own
expertise. The food we ordered was delicious, and was eaten quickly when
it arrived. I don't know what it is, but certain places just always have
excellent food, you know what I'm talking about? The beach has good hot
dogs, pizza places have good chicken, Greek sub shops always have great
steak and cheese subs...see what I mean? Well this ski lodge had fantastic
popcorn chicken and fries. They were both heaven on earth, and when
coupled with chocolate milk shakes, they made the best meal of the year
by far.
After we finished, we went back to the hotel to shower and get dressed
for the evening, then went and sat in the hotel's "common room" type
thing. All of the students who didn't pass out from exhaustion usually
went and hung out there for a bit before hitting the sack, and we were
the first ones there. Ian, Zach, and Matt all took seats by the fire,
while Quint and I took to the pool table. More and more kids arrived as
we played, until the room was packed.
Every once and a while I would cast an eye about the room, in case the
girl I had hit showed up. I had a pretty good idea of who I had collided
with; there had been six girls in the group. I knew a girl named Cece had
just started skiing, along with her friends Anna and Catherine, Cat for
short. Those three always hung out with Bryn, Lindsay, and Tina, and I
was on pretty friendly terms with all of them. I was almost certain that
it had been them whose day we unintentionally may have ruined, and I
wanted to apologize. Nevertheless, they didn't show, and I went to bed at
around eleven without having seen hide or hair of any of them.
---
I slept through the night and well into the morning, waking up at eleven
thirty on Saturday. Quint was up, playing something on his handheld in
the bunk below me, and Matt was browsing the web on his laptop across the
room. I grabbed my phone from the backpack hanging on the bedpost and
plugged in headphones, inserting only the left earbud into my ear so that
I could hear whatever else was going on in the room. Within about fifteen
minutes, Ian and Zach both awoke, and before long we were talking over
breakfast in the lodge.
"So we've got our first 'concert' tonight," I said. The five of us, being
inseparable and all, were in a band known as Skyward. I played lead
guitar and did backup vocals, Quint was bass, Matt was rhythm guitar and
vocals, Zach was our drummer, and Ian sang. Though it was 2012, we wished
we had had the pleasure of living through the 90's, and our taste in
music reflected it. We played almost exclusively grunge, thrash metal
(not screamo), and punk songs.
"That we do, that we do. Did you get your overdrive pedal fixed?" Matt
asked from over his sizeable breakfast of eggs, bacon, toast, and
assorted fruit products. "Yeah, I just need to bring it to the bar to
have it set up with my amp and guitar." I replied.
Yep, we were playing in a bar. My cousin Rob worked there, and though we
were only fourteen-year-old middle schoolers, he was able to get us a
spot in the lineup. Legal or not, he might be able to help us get big. If
he did, we'd owe him a lot, and he knew that, so he often helped us out
with our music. Rob had been in a garage band himself when he was in high
school, so he knew plenty about guitar tab, chords, and all the rest.
Our discussion mostly concerned the gig we were playing later tonight,
and we chatted about it over late breakfast until nearly one, when the
teacher who was running everything yelled into the lodge that we needed
to pack up and get going in thirty minutes. This statement was followed
by a mad dash up the stairs to pack everything up and finish one last
check that we had everything before we headed out to the buses.
I sat with Ian, and the three-hour ride back to the Boston area was
fairly uneventful. Ian fell asleep against the window, so I thrashed it
to old grunge and metal bands for a while before I drifted off too.
---
When I awoke, we were home, and the bus was almost empty already. I shook
Ian awake, and we grabbed our stuff from the ski racks and began heading
home. He lived across the street from me, and we'd been best friends for
longer than I could remember. Since our loads were light (a duffel bag
and snowboard each) we decided to just walk, and we talked about mostly
everything on the way back to base camp. Girls, guitars, music in
general, teachers, school, friends, and family were just a few of the
things we found ourselves discussing.
It took about twenty minutes to reach home, and I bid him farewell,
saying that I'd see him at the bar. I checked my phone. It was about
five, and we weren't playing until eight or so. Rob had told us to get
there by seven thirty, so I unpacked first. Once everything was in its
place, I jumped into the shower, dried off, brushed my teeth, got
dressed, and generally prepared myself for the evening. I had chosen a
simple ensemble; a plaid button-down over a black shirt, and torn jeans.
When I was all through with that, I still had a half hour to kill. I
tuned my guitar three times, making sure that it was absolutely perfect,
then dropped my tuning an octave until my low E string sounded quite
sinister indeed. Guitar being squared away, I placed it gently into its
case and fetched my brother, who had promised to drive Ian, Quint, and I
to Rob's bar. True to his word, he did, and we arrived at seven thirty
exactly. Zach was there, Matt wasn't, and we got up on stage and began to
set up.
I brought my overdrive pedal out and hooked it up to my amp, then played
a riff on my guitar. It sounded great; edgy, low, and about as grungy as
you could get. I leaned the instrument against the side of the raised
platform where we were playing, and sat on a barstool, talking to Rob. We
only had about fifteen minutes before we were scheduled to start, but he
gave me a few last minute tips on chords, palm muting, and pick drumming,
then patted me on the shoulder and told us to start warming up. The bar
was filling with clients already; maybe half of the seats were taken when
we stepped onstage. Matt had arrived, so we hooked up and played through
a couple of scales and chord progressions together as a band. Even the
scales got applause (admittedly somewhat drunken applause from two or
three guys who'd been there for a while), which was nice.
At eight, we launched into our first song, to much cheering and singing
along. Many of these guys had been young when our opener had been
released, and the bar's patrons loved it. We played for only a half-hour,
but by the end of that we were as drunk off of praise and bigheadedness
as the older guys were off of beer. We bowed offstage to much enthusiasm,
and we loaded the instruments into Matt's brother's car. He said he'd
take them back to Matt's, where we usually practiced, and left.
Skyward decided to go to a pizza place downtown to celebrate our success.
Since it was Saturday, it was packed, but we managed to find a booth way
in the corner and sit down. We ordered a large plate of fries to share,
and just completely picked apart the performance. We'd screwed up on a
couple of songs, but overall everything went pretty well. Just as we
finished our review, a tightly-woven gaggle of girls floated over to us,
looking less than happy.
I turned my head to address them, and inwardly groaned. It was Cece and
her gang, who I had been looking for, but to apologize to her. Now it
seemed that we were going to be chewed out like nobody had ever been
chewed out before.
"You guys are fuckin' reckless, you know that?" began Tina, to much grave
nodding from the other girls. "Nearly fuckin' killed Cece, you did," she
said menacingly, pointing at me and Matt. "That is not gentlemanly at
all, or nice in the least. Come the fuck on, it was our first day the
fuck out on the mountain! And you just HAD to come barreling through our
group!" Tina was rather known for swearing too much.
I held up my hands. "Hey, we're guys. We don't think this stuff through;
we just do it. Chill out, will you? We were just having testosterone-
induced fun." None of the girls giggled, a bad sign.
"We've got our fucking eyes all over you," said Cece. Ian put his hand
over his mouth and tried to look serious. I could tell that he was trying
hard not to laugh from the order in which she had put her words.
With that final, menacing statement, the girls walked away. I looked
around at my friends and yawned.
"I'm going home, you coming Ian?" I asked him.
"Nah, man, I'll stay here for a bit and catch you later. We're still
going to Boston tomorrow, right?" The two of us had planned to go hang
out around Boston College, and maybe go visit another one of my cousins,
Jen.
"Cool. Night, all, and congrats on a great performance. Text me if you
need me." I got up, waved, and pushed through the door. Once outside, I
set off at a jog in an effort to get some exercise, heading down a side
street. At nine thirty, it was pretty dark, and the side street had no
lights other than what escaped the windows of the few houses that lined
the sidewalks. I chuckled to myself. "I'm totally going to get abducted
by a pedophile or something down here. Kick his ass if he tries."
I continued my jog, passing the last house. Just as I stepped out of the
pool of light, something rustled in the bushes off to my right. I slowed,
then stopped, to see what it was. There were thick woods, here, really
thick, and I could barely see through the hedges, green and overgrown, at
the edge. I stepped closer to them and peered at the foliage.
A hand, scratched, bloodied, nails broken and bitten, definitely
feminine, burst from the bushes, and I snapped back. I heard a man growl;
"Get the fuck back here, bitch," and the hand was tugged back. I heard
another voice mutter something else, then silence and heavy, receding
footsteps. A feminine scream, quickly muffed, and a slap.
Man...from the sound of it...that was not good. Abduction, rape, something
bad was going on in there. Something I had to try and stop, just 'cause
it had to be done and nobody else was around to do it. Though I was
unarmed, I was a pretty good fighter, and I was fairly confident in my
ability to beat on a couple of high school thugs messing with a pretty
girl, especially since I was pretty strong for my age. I slipped through
the hedge, saw the dark shapes ahead, moonlight on red hair--and something
hit me, hard, behind the head. I was out cold before I hit the ground.
---
I awoke somewhere that was pretty cold. I looked up, and saw holes in a
corrugated, rusty iron roof. Old warehouses, located on the edge of town,
near the marina. My head hurt like hell, and my mind was still pretty
fuzzy, you know, recovering from being struck with a heavy object and
all. I shook it vigorously, and some of the fuzziness cleared away. I
wasn't bound or anything. On the contrary, I was in a wide, open space
that must have once been the main holding area of the warehouse.
"Hello?" I called. I took a few steps forward--and was thrown back with
considerable force. I hit the ground hard, and the wind was knocked out
of me. It took me a few minute to get back to my feet, and when I did, I
noticed the circle. There was a circle, about ten feet in diameter, which
I was inside of. Trying to step over the edge of the circle had caused me
to be tossed back like a rag doll. "The hell?"
I sat on the ground, and tried to figure this out. The only explanation
that I could consistently come back to was magic. I was always a bit of a
fantasy buff, and magic was a word that never really left my vocabulary
or the back of my mind. It was for that reason that I liked power metal,
with its dragons and far-too-muscular men with swords, decapitating
tyrant kings with one MIGHTY SWING OF THE AVENGING ARM OF THE ANGELS and
such.
A high-pitched giggle surrounded me. I leapt to my feet, looking around
wildly. The laugh had awakened some primal sense to -escape- that circle,
right now, or bad things were going to happen, period. I ran full force
at the circle, felt its boundary bend--almost enough--and toss me back with
the same force that I hit it with. Which is to say, plenty of force.
And what manner of creature stalked forth from the dark recesses of that
old, abandoned warehouse? There was more than one; there were six. Six
grim-faced, not-giggling girls, with Cece-from-the-ski-trail facing me
directly. It was really pretty creepy, the way they just appeared out of
the darkness. BANG. Instant chicas from the night.
"Are you guys serious? What the fuck. Why am I here? Let me out. I didn't
do anything life-shattering to any of you." I glared around at the girls.
"No, but you could have. We may just be overreacting to this, but we are
seriously freakin' pissed, man. Your 'testosterone-fueled fun' could have
seriously hurt one or all of us! Do you realize how damn precarious those
trails are? There was a drop of twenty feet onto rock that Bryn almost
fell down!" Cece was close to hysterical.
"Crazy girl," I thought. "What a nut. Is she seriously that freaked out?
Calm the hell down and see a therapist, fuckin' a..." I screwed up my face
and spoke: "Just let me out of here, I'll apologize publicly, take you
all out to lunch, do whatever it takes to alleviate your fears and
paranoia. How's that sound?" At this point I had no doubt that they were
the ones keeping me in here, and that they were using magic or some sort
of new technology or something. I tried to smile convincingly.
Cece shook her head. "We've discussed this at length. You aren't having
any more testosterone-fueled fun. Ever again." With that, she raised both
of her hands above her head, and began chanting in a language that wasn't
quite right. The syllables didn't sound like the sort of things that
should come from the human mind, but they sure as hell came from a human
mouth, and once again I was filled with that primal desire to escape. I
threw myself full-force at the circle-barrier, and succeeded in forcing a
hand through before it spat me back with a loud bang.
Cece's eyes flashed a bright, bright violet, and an unseen hand grabbed
me and lifted me into the air. I was immobilized as soon as I stopped
rising. The circle vanished, a cloud of dust moving swiftly around my
person. I felt my clothes shred to pieces, picked up by the cloud, but
felt no embarrassment; the cloud obscured my view of the girls, and if I
couldn't see them, chances are that they couldn't see me.
A stinging pain shot through my groin. I looked down--hey, immobilization
doesn't work on the head, good to know--and saw my Johnson doing a crazy
sort of twitching thing. It hurt a LOT, and I'm pretty sure that he was
bending at angles that wangs are not supposed to bend at. On top of that,
it seemed to be shrinking before my eyes.
What muscle I had seemed to vanish, replaced with soft...ness. Softness,
yes, let's go with that, since I sure as hell didn't have a better name
for what was happening. My skin tone lightened to a creamy complexion,
and my hands and feet crunched as they shrank. My entire body, really,
seemed to be crunching and shrinking and growing. Everything was
changing. I swear, I was shorter now, and my hands and feet were smaller,
daintier, and that damn dust storm was still whipping around, scattering
brown dust everywhere, getting everything all dusty and what not. I was
untouched, strangely.
I stopped observing my hands and feet for a moment to look back at my
penis. To my dismay, it was nearly completely gone. My balls were unseen,
and my cock was a half-inch stub that was rapidly retreating into a flat
crotch. As it vanished, I felt a stretching between my legs, and the legs
themselves got bigger. The hair vanished, of course. I was turning into a
damn girl! No more testosterone adventures, indeed!
Golden locks stretched down from my head, coming to rest on my chest. I
tossed my head; the new hair had quite a bit of bounce to it, and it felt
really soft. It was the color of straw, though nowhere near the texture,
thankfully. I watched as my chest bubbled out, two medium-sized breasts
growing out, the nipples expanding.
The shreds of my old clothes whipped out of the dust storm, still pretty
clean, and rearranged themselves on my body. A black thong wrapped
tightly around my waist, covering my now-flat crotch and riding up a butt
that was most definitely curvier, though not much larger, than before. A
matching black, simple bra rather enhanced my breasts. I knew somehow
that I was a 32B, though I was in teens' sizes, so they weren't exactly
huge, but they were about a handful. In my new, small hands, that is.
Black yoga pants stretched and fit my every curve as pink-and-white socks
adorned my feet. I gained a pair of black converse hi-tops as well. White
camisole, pink t-shirt, and a black sweatshirt that was unzipped about
halfway completed me. The dust storm abruptly stopped; I fell to the
ground, landing on my hands and knees. My nails were longer, and just
barely passed the tips of my fingers.
"Well? What d'you think?" Cece walked up to me, holding a full-length
mirror. She placed it on the ground and held it up, grinning behind the
wall of glass. I slowly stood, dusting myself off. I wouldn't have chosen
to be a girl--and still really don't want to be--but I had to admit, I
looked pretty good. Nothing too girly or slutty or bimbo about me.
Shockingly blue eyes and a pretty ambiguous face. I was still skinny, a
good thing. My nose was slightly upturned, my lips were a bit more full,
and of course my skin was whiter, but I didn't totally look like a girl
with makeup and all that jazz. The hair was blonde, but not
stereotypical; it was more of a golden-blonde color, and it smelled
fantastic.
My body didn't scream sex, either. My breasts were round and felt
natural, my butt was curvy but not massive, and my legs were nice and
proportionate to my body. I experimentally drew a hand across my chest;
it felt pretty damn good, even through so many layers of clothing. I
posed for myself, then smiled. My teeth were straight and white.
Cece held out a bottle of clear liquid. "Drink it." I did what she said,
since she could probably do worse than this to me. I shuddered as the
thick, glutinous liquid burned a path down my throat, and coughed. "The
hell is that stuff?" My voice was higher, but not ridiculously high-
pitched and irritating. Thank the gods.
"It's...well, think of it as a female super-hormone. You're not about to
totally act like a guy and stuff, so that will give you a primer on all
things femmy. It'll tell you how to act, hold yourself, all that, et
cetera, and cause you to subconsciously adjust yourself and stuff. Kinda
cool, really."
I felt oddly subdued. I had just been turned into a girl, I should have
been enraged, tearing my hair out, tearing out the throats of these
bitches, doing stuff like this--but I wasn't. I didn't mind too much.
Female nature taking over, or something.
"I think we should call you Sarah. You cool with that?" Cece asked me.
"Yeah. I don't care; honestly, Sarah is as good as Trudy or Meredith.
Not," I added, "that I want to be called Trudy or Meredith. Sarah is
great."
"Well, Sarah, you've had a pretty exciting night, and I think that you
should probably go to sleep. So...good night." With that, Cece, snapped her
fingers, and the world spun. My eyes rolled up, and the last thing I saw
before passing out was that crazy, winged-creature world that I saw on
the mountain.
Elouise
- 15.05.2022
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