VCR: Chick Flicks free porn video

VCR-cf If the flea market hadn't been so close to my house, this never would have happened. I'd have been just another fifteen year old guy, getting ready to finish off my freshman year of high school and not... okay, I'm getting ahead of myself. Here's how it went. Every day, I rode the bus home from school. Sounds bad, I know, but at fifteen I was one of very few high school students on the bus, so I got to read, or snooze, or watch movies off my iPod - whatever I wanted. The younger kids pretty much left me alone. So the bus wasn't so bad. Which didn't mean I wasn't looking forward to getting a car over the summer when I turned sixteen. Even if the car turned out to be a beater, which considering what my mom had bought for my sister, it probably would be, driving still beat the heck out of riding a bus with second graders. But in the meantime, the bus stop nearest my home happened to be in the front of the Treasure Palace. It sounds like a casino, but it was actually a flea market made inside an old K-mart that had gone out of business. Inside the store were dozens of little booths and tables, every one of them manned by some old dude or lady who had never heard of ebay. Mostly it was the same kind of junk you saw at every flea market - old clothes, busted furniture, computers that were old when dinosaurs roamed. That kind of crap. There was one place that sold bicycle wheels. I kid you not, nothing but the wheels. Most of the time I just walked past it, but every now and then some cool stuff turned up. Old war medals, arrowheads, ancient comic books, video games. I was already thinking about stopping in that afternoon when a big fat raindrop smashed into my forehead. That got me moving in a hurry. I made it through the door of the Treasure Palace right as the first rumble of thunder rolled past and the scattered drops turned into a downpour. Inside I went past the bicycle wheel lady, the hubcap guy, and the creepy dude who sold "Amish" furniture that had little "made in Thailand" stickers if you knew where to look. I spotted some old comics heaped up along with tattered paperbacks on one table and spent some time looking through them, but there was nothing there worth buying. After making a trip around the back, I was about to leave the store, then I saw a pair of blue jeans that made me stop in my tracks. I wasn't thinking about buying the jeans, it was what was inside that made me stop. In front of me was a woman with possibly the greatest butt I had ever seen. She was bent over, arranging heaps of junk on a table as I came up. As far as I was concerned, she could have leaned over that table for hours, but I think she sensed me staring at her ass. As I came closer, she turned around. I was a bit disappointed to realize that she was older than I expected. I had been hoping for hot cheerleader, and what I got was something like hot soccer mom. But there was some reward: she was wearing a oversized blue sweatshirt, and from the action going on as she turned around, no bra. She caught me looking at her and grinned. "Hey, kid. See something you like?" Sweater puppies is what I wanted to say, but I instead I wandered closer. This woman looked kind of familiar. "Did anybody ever tell you that you look just like that actress from The Matrix?" I asked. She laughed. "Don't I know it." There was a cardboard table in front of her stacked with a variety of stuff. Most of it looked to be guy's clothing, and from the look of the clothes the guy who had worn them was big enough to need two seats on airplane. "Right actress, but I'm from a different movie." The statement was weird enough that I had no idea what she meant. "People are always telling you look like her?" I guessed. She laughed. "Hell, kid. Nobody had to tell me. I picked her." To my amazement, the woman raised her hands and gave her boobs a squeeze through the sweatshirt. "Funny thing is, I never thought this chick was all that pretty. But once I tried it." She pressed her boobs together and kneaded them through the shirt. The open collar of the sweatshirt was low enough that I got an amazing view of cleavage in motion. She worked at her boobs for a second longer, then dropped her hands with a shrug. "You wouldn't believe how good that feels." "Uhhh..." this whole conversation was starting to feel more than a little crazy. Women didn't usually start giving themselves a boob massage right in front of me -- not even at the Treasure Palace. I felt a sudden, severe tightness in my pants and stepped closer to the table to hide it. "Yeah, it... Umm... It must be nice." She grinned at me again. "You want to find out?" I gulped. I was pretty sure I'd get in big trouble if anyone saw me touching this woman's breastage, or maybe she'd get in trouble for letting some underage kid paw at her. Somebody would be in trouble. But for once I didn't let something like common sense get in the way. "Sure," I said. I paused to lick my lips and watched her boobs sway under the loose shirt. "Absolutely." "Well all right then." The woman slapped her hand down so hard on the folding table that it made me jump. She bent over, and for a moment I wondered if she wanted me to join her under the table, or if she had noticed the growing problem in my pants and was going to help me out with that. But before I could make a move, she straightened up again. There was a cardboard box in her arms. "What's that?" The woman who looked like Trinity pushed the box across the table at me. From the way the folding table sagged, I could tell that whatever was in the box, it was something heavy. "Here you go, kid. Your ticket to finding out everything you ever wanted to know." The box had a top that was folded closed. I reached out to open one corner, but the woman slapped my hand away. "Just take it," she said. There was a change in her voice, and when I looked up she was staring past me down the row of booths and tables. "Take it quick." With that, the woman spun around. I got one last good look at her jeans as she ducked under the rope that ran along the next aisle, then she stood up and headed for the door just one notch under a sprint. I was still trying to think of what to do, when the guy from the "Amish" furniture place came wandering over. "Hey, what did you do to scare her away?" he said. "She was the hottest thing in this place for a long time." The guy slipped around the end of the table and crouched down to look at the boxes the woman had left underneath. I could hear things clanking as he sorted through her stuff. After just a few seconds, he stood up, scanned the heaps of fat guy clothing, then reached for the box the woman had pushed toward me. Before he could grab the box, I got my arms around it and heaved it off the table. "That's mine." The furniture guy scowled at me. "Yeah? So what did you pay for it?" "She gave it to me." That got me a grunt in reply. "Sure she did. Hand it over before I call the cops." In about a hundred visits to the Treasure Palace, I had never seen any kind of security, so that probably wasn't as scary as the guy wanted. Instead of giving him the box I just hugged it up against me and started for the door. If he came after me, I never noticed. I was too busy watching the guys in dark suits and darker glasses who were coming into the big room. If these guys weren't some kind of Feds, they were doing a very good job of copying the look. The suit guys walked past me without a second glance. I didn't know what they were after, but I hoped it was people selling fake Amish furniture. By the time I was out in the parking lot, I had learned two things: one, it was still raining, and two, the box the woman had given me weighed a ton. There was no place to set the thing down and with every step it got heavier, wetter, and the cardboard got closer to falling apart. By the time I turned onto my street, the box was sagging at every corner. Something was rattling around inside, and a sharp metal corner was poking through in just the right place to spear my forearm. I was starting to wish I had let fake Amish guy have it. There was no one else home when I reached my house. No big surprise. My parents had been divorced since I was six and mom worked as a nurse practitioner at one of those drug store clinics. Her usual shift ran from just after three in the afternoon to almost midnight, so we were lucky to even see each other during the week. My sister Katie, who at seventeen had her own rusty car and was theoretically in charge when mom was out, was also absent. Again no big surprise. Katie was okay, as far as big sisters go. Most of my life, I'd sat in the back seat while mom hauled Katie to one gymnastics event after another. But in the last year Katie had quit the gymnastics team, started wearing roughly four tons of eye gunk, and started wearing enough black clothes to make her a best customer at Hot Topic. Still, she didn't spend a lot of time ragging on me, which was about all I could ask for. Her whole big emo/goth rebellion thing that seemed to mostly involve being gone until five minutes before mom showed up. So the house was mine. With no more than a minute of cussing, I managed to get both me and the soggy box inside. Then I stumbled to my room, dropped the drippy brown mess on the floor, and finally tore open the top to see what was inside. It was a VCR. Not just any worthless old VCR, but one that was at least twice the size and three times the ugly as the one my mom had thrown away years ago. In other words, fake Trinity had used me to carry away her garbage. I almost took it straight through the house to the dumpster, but there were a half dozen or so tapes in the box. Remembering the boob-massage show fake-Trin had given me at Treasure Palace, I thought I might plug the old box in for a second just to see if the woman had gifted me with some educational materials. In other words, I wanted to see if there was any porn. I hefted the big silver VCR out on the floor in front of the 32" flat screen that had been my mom's guilt trip inspired Christmas present. There was a power cord and a set of video cables in the box, but no sign of a remote. I couldn't even see if the VCR had a pause button. There was just play, rewind, and eject, all of them lined up on the top next to the weird pop-up tape slot. Along the back, there was no manufacturer's name, just a sticker with the number 27. There were parts of another sticker, some kind of weird, pointy symbol, like the kind they put on medical waste, but most of the sticker had been scratched away. The edges of the box had rough edges, like someone has welded it together in shop class. "It's Franken-VCR," I said aloud as I hooked up the cables. "Probably plays nothing but horror flicks." I got the box set up and picked a tape. The first one just said "TV" on the hand-written label. I slotted it, hit play, and hoped for some movie with "naughty" in the title. As it turned out, it was kind of the opposite. As soon as the tape was pressed into the VCR, the theme song for Gilmore Girls started up. The picture was amazingly clear, and (like every guy in America under 99) I'd had my share of Rory Gilmore fantasies, but I was hoping for a different kind of chick show--the kind with bare naked boobies, so I stabbed the eject button and tried the next tape. This one also said "TV", and if the Gilmores had been a disappointment, this one was worse. It was some show I'd thankfully never seen called "What I Like About You." I could tell was going to be irritating before the opening credits were done. Time for tape 3. This time I got lucky. The tape said "Chick Flicks", which seemed at least a little hopeful. Turned out it wasn't porn, but it was at least something that interested me: a copy of the movie "Mean Girls." I didn't have a DVD of the film, because it was certified "something I'd be embarrassed to have any of my friends find out I owned," but seeing Lindsey Lohan at her young and busty best got me to leave the tape in for a few minutes. Then, because the image was so amazingly good, I watched a few minutes more. Then, because of that scene where Cady wears a red sweater, I took off my pants. Sure, it's embarrassing, but I did have the house to myself and hours of time to kill. Heck, I was already thinking I might do a repeat performance if there was anything good on the other tapes. Sue me, I was 15. Beating off was my hobby. I leaned back on the bed with my feet hanging off the end and my jeans pulled down, fantasizing about what I'd do if Cady Heron was there with me. The thing is, this little episode didn't go as expected. Just as I was starting to wish I had planned ahead far enough to bring some Kleenex, the TV spurted before I did. Only it spurted in the form of a blue-white lighning bolt that snaked out of the screen in slow motion and smacked me square in the chest. Intermission time. Everything went black. By the time I woke up, Cady Heron had gone from social outcast to queen of the "plastics." I opened my eyes, blinking at the action on screen. Just judging from what was happening in the film, I'd been out for several minutes. I was foggy for a few seconds longer, trying to remember what had happened, then I noticed something odd. My arm was covered in freckles. I raised my hand to look at it, but before I could get my fingers near my face I noticed the tumble of red hair across my shoulder. And before I could do more than raise my head for a better look, I felt something shift on my chest. The hand that had been headed for my face changed direction, and instead landed on something that was warm and soft. It was one of those things that I'd thought about often, but never really gotten to handle before. It was a boob, and it was mine. For a moment I felt woozy and my head slipped back against the pillow, but that only brought fresh movement from my new chestage. I slowly levered myself back up again. As I did, it became obvious that I didn't actually have a boob--I had a pair, and from the way they stretched at the fabric of my T-shirt, a very impressive pair. Below the shirt, bare legs that were almost as freckled as my arms dangled over the end of my bed. They were tangled together at the knees by a pair of tidy whities, a relic of my activities before I blacked out. Carefully, I raised one foot (an actually pretty foot) and used it to slide the underwear off my legs. The feeling of the cotton shifting over soft skin was enough to make me shiver. My thighs brushed against each other as I moved, raising little goose-bumps on my freckled skin. Slowly I pushed myself to the end of the bed and carefully stood up. I felt wobbly. Not only did it feel like everything on my body was moving around and shifting in strange directions, it felt like something deep--something like my bones--was connected in a whole new, looser sort of way. I pushed a tangle of long red hair from my face and look across the room. The mirror above my dresser showed Lindsay Lohan. Actually, strike that. It wasn't the twenty-something actress with more court dates than screen credits. It was a teenage red-haired hottie with wide green-blue eyes and a shocked expression. It was Cady Heron. I was Cady Heron. I said the first thing that came to mind, which was something really profound like, "Holy fuck." The voice didn't sound quite the same from inside her head, but it definitely had that throaty, sexy edge of that had helped make Cady the most doable babe in a movie filled with girls who were walking ads for sex. A couple of unsteady steps got me closer to the mirror. The girl in the glass looked almost exactly like the one on the screen. Her--my--hair was a little messier, and she wasn't wearing any makeup, but she still looked good enough to stop traffic. Good enough to stop traffic across half a city. I raised on of those freckly hands and waggled my fingers at the mirror. "Hello, Cady," I purred. I turned my head left, then right, watching those blue-green eyes pivot in the mirror. I pressed a finger against my cheek. It felt real. The smooth skin puckered in around the tip of my finger, the skin turning pale under the pressure, and I could feel it pushing against the unfamiliar cheekbone. "I'm a girl," I said, in my new girl voice. I let the finger slid up and traced along the red-brown arc of an eyebrow. I pushed the tangle of hair back from my forehead. It was thick, heavy, and slightly damp with sweat. I smiled at myself. "Holy shit. I'm an insanely hot girl." And then I did the only sensible thing--I peeled off my shirt and got a good look at my tits. Maybe it was just because they had sprouted there instantly instead of growing over months or years, but they seemed impossibly huge. I mean, staring at these things when someone else had been wearing them had been exciting, but having them attached to me was more scary than sexy. My whole body felt like it was made of curves that went in all the right directions, only they all felt completely wrong. The boobs were actually big enough that they could have blocked my view looking down, but they sat more over to the sides than I had expected. I could actually plant my hand in the center of my chest and barely touch either breast. Both fingertip sized pink nipples angled slightly up, and slightly out. Kind of like I was signaling a left turn and right turn at the same time. Those nipples were getting harder by the moment. I could feel them getting tighter. Between them I could see a smooth stomach with a belly button that stretched out more up and down than the side to side model I was used to. Further down were smooth thighs that touched together at their milky tops, then separated as they flowed down toward knees and calves. Between those thighs I couldn't see any hair at all, couldn't really see much of anything but a bit of folded pink skin. I raised a hand and lightly touched one finger to the quivering red tip of an achingly hard nipple. The result was a shock almost as big as the one I'd gotten from the TV. I moved my hand lower, sliding down the warm taut skin of the belly, over a slight rise, and down to... squishy stuff. Electric squishy stuff. My knees trembled, and I nearly fell. The face of Cady in the mirror looked shocked by what I was doing. I took the hand away from the damp softness, braced myself against the wall, and took three long breaths. The fantastically freckly boobs moved up and down as I did. This was, without a doubt, one of the most sextastic bodies on earth. Only I had no idea what I was doing in it. "I need to get a better look at this," I said in that throaty, stick- it-to-me-now voice. I walked slowly to the door of my room, feeling not just the sway of my breasts, but that loosey goosey swing somewhere down in my hip zone. My thighs lightly slipped past each other at each step while my breasts swayed side to side as well as up and down. My ass did a weird little bounce. I felt like I was navigating Jell-o. Slowly, unsteadily, and absolutely butt nakedly, I made my way down the hall to the bathroom. I half expected this weird hallucination to be blown away by the bright lights over the sink. Instead there I was, still completely wrapped in a collection of freckle-dotted curves. With my eyes locked on the girl in the mirror, I put my small hands under my definitely not small boobs and pressed them together until the cleavage turned into a slot big enough to handle a piece of toast. The weight in my hands felt... weighty, and the feeling from both my fingertips and my chest insisted that these things weren't cartoon balloons. They were warm, they had a kind of lumpy, kind of grainy sort of feel under my fingers. They might be the first pair I'd handled, but they felt very, very real. And I could feel them from both sides. "I'm a girl," I said. "I'm really a girl." I let go of my breasts, put my hands on the counter beside of the sink, and leaned forward until I was standing on tiptoe and my nose was only inches from the mirror. "I'm a girl." A tumble of thick, wavy red hair spilled past my shoulders and swung around my face. Holy shit. I'm a girl. "This has to be some kind of dream," I said. I leaned back from the sink and pushed the messy hair out of the way. There was like a yard of the stuff. I don't think I'd ever had so much hair that I cold feel the weight of it. Everything about this felt miles too real to be any sort of dream, from the way the loose strands of hair tickled the sides of my face to the cool air I could feel in the open triangle above the spot where my thighs touched. I ran my tongue over unfamiliar teeth. What if it was real? Really real. Suddenly I remembered the woman at the flea market asking me if I'd like to know how it felt to squeeze a set of tits. The girl in the mirror was looking kind of sick. She looked like she might faint. I pulled in a ragged breath and a new crop of goosebumps spread across my skin thicker than the freckles. "It can't be real," I whispered, trying to ignore the alien sound of my voice. People didn't turn into other people. I mean, sure it might be fun if I could be sure it was only temporary, but what if I was really a girl. Really Cady Heron. What if it was for good? "Holy fuck," I said again. "What's mom going to say?" I'd never be able to convince her that it was me. She'd throw this big- boobed redhead out of her house, or call the police. And then what? It wasn't like I could ring the doorbell at one of my friend's houses and say, "Hi there. I know I look like Hollywood's most famous skank, but I'm really your old pal Jake." I shivered violently enough that my teeth clicked together. The girl in the mirror looked strange. For a moment I thought Cady's hair was losing its color, then I realized everything was losing it's color, because I was going down. I managed to get my arms under me long enough to keep my new face from smacking into the edge of the sink, but after that I kind of sprawled on the cool ceramic tils of the floor. Passing out actually seemed like maybe the most sensible thing to do. So I did. When I opened my eyes, my sister Katie was standing over me. I think she looked concerned, but with the big raccoon circles of black eye shadow, it was hard to tell for sure. "Holy fuck," she said. It seemed to be the phrase of the day. I looked down and saw enough bare legs and boobs to have no doubt about whose curvy skin I was in. "I know it doesn't look like it, but I'm really..." "Jake," she said. "Jake," I finished. "Wait." I pushed myself up on one arm and tried to ignore the feeling of the cold tile floor against my well-padded ass. "How did you know it was me?" Katie tilted her head toward my room. "I came in, saw a bunch of stuff in your room, spotted your pants on the floor, then followed a trail of clothes and underwear to a naked Lindsay Lohan on the bathroom floor." She shrugged. "So either my little brother got lucky with the most notorious piece of ass in the world, who is for some reason slumming two thousand miles from home, or he turned into a girl." "But people don't just turn into girls. It's impossible." "I repeat, either my brother got lucky or my brother ran into super sex-changing magic" She shrugged. "I just went with the one that seemed more likely." I opened my mouth to protest, then thought better of it. "Well, when you put it like that." I raised a hand. "Help me up." She grabbed my hand and pulled me to my feet. I was still wobbly, and more than a little embarrassed at being naked, but the sheer weirdness of the moment made naked seem like a minor thing. At least Katie knew who I was, maybe she could help me convince mom not to run me out of the house. Besides, I guess I didn't have any parts now that she didn't have--only my parts were out there on display. Katie swore she'd gotten too big to be competitive in gymnastics, she was still only an inch over five foot. I'd outgrown her when I was twelve, but at the moment I didn't seem all that much taller than Katie. I'd always thought of Cady Heron, Queen of the Plastics, as kind of tall, but in my bare feet, I was practically eye to eye to Katie. Which only made it weirder when she reached up and grabbed my left boob. "Wow," she said. "Very nice." "Uh, what..." I started to step back, but she grazed a thumb over my nipple in a way that brought on equal measures of excitement and embarrassment. Katie lifted slightly on the soft half-globe and rolled the stiffening pink tip under her thumb. "I've always wondered if these things were as good as they looked." she gave my nipple a soft tweak that sent a warm shiver running through my body. "Katie..." "Shhh," she said. Her other hand came up and she slowly traced a finger over the freckles at the center of my chest. "Does that feel good?" "I.. Um, yeah, but..." Katie grinned. Her finger traced a course between my boobs, down to the taut, smooth skin over my stomach. Her hand headed lower. I backed up so fast my ass hit the wall with a slap that made pictures rattle in their frames. "What are you doing?" "Living the dream," she said. She stepped toward me. "Doesn't it feel good?" "But I've turned into a girl." She rolled her eyes. "And I like girls." "You... you're gay?" She nodded. "Since when?" "Since always, idiot." She stepped toward me and put her hands on my bare shoulders. "Didn't you ever wonder why I never went out on dates?" I shrugged. "I just figured you realized all the guys at our school were idiots." "That too," said Katie. Then she leaned in and kissed me. She managed a few seconds of lip lock before I turned my head. "I'm your brother!" "Really?" she snuggled in against me. "You don't look like my brother." I managed to get my arms in between us and pushed her away. "Yeah, but you still look like my sister. I don't care how weird this is, I'm not making out with you." Katie frowned. "Spoilsport. You parade around wearing extremely fuckable naked hottie, then won't let me..." She paused a moment, stepped back and crossed her arms. "So how did this happen?" I stepped around her and headed back down the hall, acutely aware that Katie was watching my wide, bare ass as I bounced my way to the bedroom. Once inside the bedroom I picked up the T-shirt and pulled it over my head. It took me a bit to wrestle my hair loose from the shirt, the cloth was stretched so tight over my new assets, and it was barely long enough to cover half my ass, but it was better than having Katie look at me like I was a dessert buffet. "I think it was this." I gave the VCR a nudge with one bare girly foot. Katie knelt down next to the machine and ran a hand over the top. "Where did you get this?" "Treasure Palace," I said. "From this woman who looked--" A little rocket went up in my head and I remembered the thought I was having right before fainting in the bathroom. "A woman that looked exactly like Trinity from the Matrix." The idea came through to Katie right away. "You think this thing Trinitized her; the same way you got the full Lindsay?" "It didn't occur to me at the time, but yeah, now I do." "So how does it work?" I bent down, pressed the button to eject the tape in the strange pop-up slot, and pulled it out. "This tape has Mean Girls. I turned it on, started watching, and poof: insta Cady." Katie looked at me with a raised eyebrow. "You were watching that? Are you sure you weren't a girl to begin with?" "Oh, very funny." I started to fold my arms over my chest, which would have gone better without all the breastage in the way. Katie sifted through the collection of tapes, pulled one out and stuck it in the machine. A few seconds later, an old episode of Friends appeared on the screen, with two of the women arguing. Katie moved toward the screen. "So if I watch this, I could turn into Monica?" I shrugged. "I guess so." "Cool," said Katie. "She's hot." She plopped down cross-legged in front of the screen. "Wow, great picture." "How do you know you won't turn into Joey?" I asked. She tapped the front of the TV. "You think that's possible?" I shrugged again, feeling my boobs rise and fall as I did. I dropped onto the end of the bed, my soft thighs pressed warmly together. "This thing didn't come with a rule book, but what are you going to do if you do get changed? Nobody's going to believe it's you." "You would," said Katie. "Besides, at least it would be something different. It's so boring being me." She turned toward me long enough to give me a mocking leer. "I'll turn into Jennifer Aniston and we can run off together. I can help you learn to use all the new gear, and we'll make a million bucks selling pics to the tabloids." I didn't reply, though as Katie leaned forward and stared at the screen expectantly, I found myself idly brushing one nipple through the cotton shirt. The light touch sent tingles that seemed to jump across to the breast I wasn't touching, and I swear I could feel actual oven-grade heat growing between my legs. The feeling wasn't at all like the tight feeling that came with a hard on. This was more a kind of liquid heat that flowed out over my smooth legs and taut stomach. What would it be like to try out this body? If Katie was to get turned into someone else... The longer I thought about it, the longer I thought it would be a crime to get this made-for-sex body and not see what it would do--like being handed the keys to a Ferrari and leaving it in the driveway. But while I was getting more and more ready, Katie was getting more and more impatient. "Nothing's happening," she said. "Are you sure this is what did it?" "Has to be," I said. "I sat down, started watching the movie, and then I... Oh." "Oh what?" "I kind of, I mean..." I licked my puffy lips in embarrassment. "There are a lot of hot girls in that movie. So I sort of, um." Katie looked at me for a few seconds with a puzzled expression in her mascara circled eyes. Then she gave a snort. "You mean you jerked off?" From the heat I could feel on my face, it was a good bet my cheeks were as red as my hair. "I kind of started, but just when I was getting there..." I gestured at my body. "Blam." "How could you whacking your doodle make any difference?" "I don't know," I admitted. "Maybe it was just a coincidence." "We'll, if pounding your meat is what it takes, we're short one dick." Katie scowled at the machine. I swallowed. "How am I going to get back to me?" "Why would you want to? Isn't that body about ten thousand times normal than your usual?" "Well, yeah, but Katie, I..." "Just hold on. I need to do an experiment." To my surprise, Katie stood up and walked out of the room. I could hear her banging around in her own bedroom, but before I could decide to see what she was up to, she came back into the room carrying a gleaming silver tube. She held it up. "You want me to do it, or are you ready for a test drive?" "What?" Katie pressed her thumb against one end of the silver thing. At once there was a kind of throbbing hum. "Guess it's going to be me," she said. Then she reached up with her free hands, unbuttoned her jeans, and let them fall to the floor. "Katie!" "What? We're all girls here." She sat down in front of the TV with her legs spread apart and immediately began applying the business end of her little tool. Even if Katie was my sister, I couldn't help but feel the heat between my legs crank up a notch. It was like something down there knew exactly what Katie was feeling, and it wanted in. "This," I said in what I thought was a really calm tone, considering, "is the weirdest day of my life. By a factor of about ten million." "Uh huh," said Katie. Actually, it was more of a grunt. If what was on the screen had something to do with what the machine would do, then Katie didn't have to worry about turning into Joey, because someone had edited all the guys out of the show. One of the women, too. It wasn't actually an episode of Friends on the tape, it was clips out of several episodes, all of them featuring just Monica and... whatever Jennifer Aniston's character was called. The scene changed about every ten seconds, but it didn't seem to be bothering Katie. From the way she was breathing, it seemed like she didn't care much about any problems with the plot. Keeping one eye on Katie, I reached down between my legs. Embarrassing as this was, I had never felt the need for anything so strongly. My fingers touched that warm, hot place and I swear I felt the touch all the way to my ears. I slid just one joint of my index finger into the soft folds, and without any thought on my part, my back arched. I drew in a long, shuddering breath. When the program on the tv suddenly changed, barely noticed. That's when a bolt of weird blue lightning came from the screen and hit Katie. And me. I had just time to think "again?" Intermission two. I opened my eyes, and found Rory Gilmore leaning over me. Rory Gilmore looking beautiful and concerned. Rory Gilmore with those incredibly bright blue eyes and the little dimple in her chin. Rory Gilmore with a long sweep of heavy, straight brown hair spilling past her shoulders as she leaned over me. She looked just like she did on TV, except I didn't remember Rory Gilmore ever wearing such a load of messy black eye makeup. "You okay in there?" she asked in a sweet Rory Gilmore voice. I nodded and tried to sit up. "Katie? Is that..." I stopped and raised a hand to my throat. My voice was wrong. I mean, it had been wrong before, but this wasn't the Cady Heron purr I'd almost gotten used to. I held up my hand and looked at it. My arm was not covered in all those freckles that had come with looking like America's favorite bad girl, but it sure wasnt the hand I normally wore. It was thin, with long slender fingers, a definite female hand. I reached up beside my head and pulled around a handful of thick brunette hair. "Are we both Rory?" "Not exactly," said Katie. She reached down and helped me to my feet. Immediately I could tell that a lot more had changed than just freckles. I stood up. And up. This body was clearly much taller than the one I'd just left, and almost all of the difference seemed to be in the long legs that emerged from the bottom of my T-shirt. It was also clear that the shirt wasn't nearly as strained by what was now sitting on my chest. I still had boobs--I could still feel them doing that jiggle, bounce, sway at every step--but they were a lot less hefty than they had been. One step at a time, I followed Katie down the hall back to the bathroom mirror. From the way everything looked, I wasn't really super tall, probably no taller than normal, but somehow I felt like a giant. I seemed to be wired together differently. My proportions felt all wrong. My legs seemed so long that it felt like they came up to my shoulders. I felt unsteady, like I was walking on stilts. Even before we stepped in front of the mirror, I had a good idea what I was going to see. "Shit," I said, studying my new face. "I'm old." Katie rolled her new blue-blue eyes. "Just because you spent time being Lohan, don't go all Freaky Friday. You're like, thirty-three." "That's old." Katie laughed. "You're not old." Her fingers brushed through the tangled brown curls of my hair. "You're one if the most beautiful women on the planet." I raised a hand and traced a finger along my face. Eyes almost as blue as the ones that Katie was now using sat above my high cheekbones. About the only sign of age on my face was a pair of faint lines that curved down from each side of my nose. There was a slight upward twist at the end of my lips that made my expression seem a lot more confident and knowing than I felt. I was no longer a teen hottie. I was an adult woman. I was Lorelei Gilmore. "I'm your mom." Katie gave a snort. She snuggled up against me from behind, throwing smooth, pale arms around me. "Oh mommy, you're so pretty!" I shivered. "Please don't call me that." "Don't you love me, mommy?" Katie looked past me into the mirror. "God, look at us." She flashed a smile. "We're fucking gorgeous!" I reached up and poked a finger through the T-shirt into a much smaller boob than the ones I'd had has Cady. The woman in the mirror seemed almost amused by this situation, but that wasn't what I was feeling. "What are we going to do now? My sister might have Rory Gilmore's face, but in her case the expression was one hundred percent Katie. "Let's go somewhere!" "What?" "I mean it." She stepped around me, still admiring herself in the mirror. "Let's get out of the house and have some fun with this." She twisted around and looked over her shoulder into the mirror. "Jesus. My ass is like huge." Her ass was also naked. So was the rest of her. You want to know how you tell you're in shock? It's when you've standing in a room with one of your dream girls, and she's wearing nothing but a pair of striped socks, and it takes you five minutes just to realize it. "You're so beautiful," I said. My voice sounded weird. "Aww. Thank you, mommy." Katie turned around again, pressing Rory's little breasts upwards with her hands. "These are smaller than my original equipment, but they're nice. Don't you think?" "Uh... Yeah. They're, um, nice." A tingle went through my own boobs. I could feel the nipples tightening against the cotton shirt. That weird, warm sensation started up from somewhere between my legs. Katie suddenly ran out of the room, giving me one last flash of Rory's smooth behind as she went out the door. I stood there for a second, breathing hard, staring into those blue eyes in the mirror. I put a finger over the tented material of my shirt and lightly pressed down. The lips in the mirror opened in an 'O' of surprise. I couldn't do this. This wasn't me. Couldn't be me. "I'm a MILF." I whispered. I turned, looking at the way the T-shirt wasn't quite long enough to reach the bottom of my ass. This was so different from being in Cady Heron's sex bomb bod. I was older, taller, thinner. I had to admit that, watching the show on TV, I'd thought Lorelei was kind of sexy. You know, for someone that age. But seeing that face look back at me from the mirror, I didn't feel sexy. I felt... lost. Dark brown hair spilled across one side of my face and I pushed it back. Bright eyes sparkled back at me from the knowing face. I thought for a second about what it would be like if I was stuck in this body. I was too old to go back to school. Unless I was the teacher. Only, I didn't have a degree, or any kind of proof of who I was. I stepped closer to the glass. Could I go out and get a job like this? Would some guy want to hire me just because he wanted to bang me? Before that weird thought could sink in, Katie popped back in the door. "Try this," she said, holding out a blue-green something on a white plastic hanger. It wasn't until I took it from her and turned it around, that I realized what I was holding. "Katie, this is a dress." "Uh huh." She pulled a tight black tank top down over her breasts and glanced at herself in the mirror. "You're too tall for anything of mine and too skinny for most of mom's stuff. That dress is from the when-I- lose-some-weight end of mom's closet. I think you can pull it off." She gave her own bare ass a slap. "I need to see what I've got that'll get over these hips." She slipped out of the room again. I hung the dress from a towel rack and turned back to the mirror. Lorelei was looking at me with that smug expression. There was something about this face that said this woman wasn't just good looking, she knew she was good looking. Knew exactly what every guy who saw her was thinking. Knew she had power over them. Only I felt absolutely disconnected from that face, that expression, and that power. "So let's see the rest," I said. Then I pulled off the T-shirt. The body underneath was a lot less curvy than Cady's. Narrower hips. Much smaller boobs. It wasn't my idea of a killer bod, but it was lean, toned, and I had to admit, pretty damn sexy. I shivered. "I can't stay in here," I said, watching the nude woman in the mirror mimic my words. The nipples on the smallish boobs had tightened into weird little red-brown knobs. No matter how I was feeling, Lorelei still didn't quite lose that knowing smirk. I barely managed to cover myself as Katie charged back into the room. She'd pulled Rory's long, straight brown hair back into a loose ponytail and her famous ass was barely covered by a denim skirt originally meant for Katie's little gymnast bubble butt. Somewhere along The way she'd taken time to wipe off her usual pile of mascara and eyeliner, so she looked a lot more like Rory and less like Rory's evil twin. She grabbed the dress from the hanger and wiggled it at me. "Here," she said. "Stop slobbering over yourself and put this on." I took the bit of cloth from her fingers and looked at it. "It's a dress," I repeated. "I know." "A dress." "Uh huh." I wrinkled up my nose and shook my head, dark curls batting against my cheeks. "I can't wear a dress." "Why not?" Katie looked me up and down. "It'll look good on you." I started to say more, but I could see the grin twitching at the corners of Katie's lips. "What are you up to?" She looked into the mirror, turning her head from side to side so that they long ponytail swung heavily against her shoulders. "I told you," she said, giving the mirror a deceptively sweet smile. "We're going to give someone a shock." I shook my head, squinting at my blue-eyed reflection. "I'm not letting anyone see me like this." "It'll be fun." "It'll be embarrassing," I said. Katie gave me a considering look. She stepped toward me, took my right hand in hers, and lifted it up to the thin material over her left breast. "Hi there," she said Rory's sweetest, softest voice. A shiver ran up my long legs and along my back. "Katie... "Shh. My name is Rory." She leaned in close, her lips so close to mine that I could feel puffs of breath when she spoke. "Your name is Lorelei." "I'm not..." "Say it," she insisted, her lips just brushing past mine. Her breast flattened against my fingers as she leaned in, and I could feel the warmth of her body. "I'm Lorelei," I said. She pulled me in, pushing her lips hard against mine. Her arms went around me, her fingers sliding over the smooth skin of my back. "Yes, you are," she said. "And if you come with me, I'm going to let you drive my car, drink some beer, and fuck Rory Gilmore." Her hands slid down my back and fingers gripped my ass. "Would you like that, Lorelei?" When she let me go, I put on the dress. Ten minutes later, Katie had me dressed, my brown hair brushed into a tumble of waves, and a smear of lipstick across my mouth. She got me propped onto shoes that had at least a two inch heel and nodded her approval. Finally, I wobbled after her toward the door. "Where are we going?" I asked. My lips stuck together in a weird way that made me constantly want to lick my lips. "Does it matter?" Katie asked as she picked up her purse and slung it over her shoulder. She already seemed very comfortable in Rory's body. I leaned against the wall for support. "It does to me. I don't want any of my friends to see me like this." Katie stepped out the door. "If your friends see you, they'll just want to bang you." "That's what I'm worried about," I said as I wobbled down the steps to Katie's ancient Protege. True to her word, Katie let me drive the car. I had to slide the seat back to accommodate Lorelei's long legs. I was a little nervous, but I'd had my permit long enough that I'd had several chances to practice. I got the car out of the driveway without much trouble, even wearing heels. Katie pointed left along Birch Street. "Go that way," she said. "We'll give the guy's at the liquor store a thrill." I made the turn and started out of our subdivision. "Why the liquor store?" "Because now you're old enough to buy beer, dummy." "Oh." It was the first time I'd driven at night, and there was a lot of traffic. It took enough concentration that I could almost forget that I was now an adult woman, wearing a dress and makeup, on my way to buy beer, on the promise of lesbian sex. Almost. We went through the center of town, but considering how small the place is, that only meant waiting at two lights. At the second one, there was a guy in the lane next to us who kept shooting me looks. I pretended not to notice. Rory... I mean Katie, told me that she wasn't coming inside at the liquor store since she was underage. "But not you, Lorelia," she said, drawling the name. "You're -way- over twenty one." I gave her a scowl, but the promise of what was waiting got me out of the car and crunching my way across the parking lot. My heels sank into the loose gravel, and I stumbled twice before making the sidewalk. The cool air ran up my bare legs. Once on solid ground, I paused long enough to make sure the green dress was still more or less covering the parts it was supposed to cover, then I took a deep breath and stepped inside. The inside of the liquor store was barely larger that Katy's car, and the clerk behind the counter was the only one there. I was thankful for that much. The clerk barely looked old enough to buy a beer, much less run the place. It took me a second to recognize him as the loser older brother of one of the girls in my class. He was watching a grainy sitcom on a tiny TV when I came in. At first he only glanced up at me before turning back to the screen, but a moment later the "potential babe" messages made their way from one side of his brain to the other and he swiveled around to smile at me. "Evening, ma'am," he said. "Can I help you?" Ma'am. I was a ma'am. "Um, yeah," I managed. Hearing Lorelia's voice come out of my mouth made me feel a little more confident. "I want to buy some beer." He nodded. "What kind?" "Umm." I froze. Katie hadn't told me what she wanted. Our mom went for Bud Lite, when she had a beer at all. Which wasn't often. I looked quickly around, my dark hair swinging around my face. "I want... umm..." Just then the door swung open and Katie stepped inside. She gave the clerk a flash of those dazzling blue eyes then turned to me with a pout. "Mommy, haven't you bought the beer yet?" I swallowed hard. "What kind do you... I mean, what kind should I buy?" Katie bounced across the small store, turning each step into an exaggerated swivel of her hips. She made a big show of staring down the aisle of cardboard beer packs, then turned to the clerk, put a finger against her chin, and executed an Oscar-worthy "I'm just a dumb girl, won't you please help me?" expression. "I don't know, Mommy," she said. "Maybe this nice man here can help us." The clerk looked like he was about ten seconds away from a stroke. He kept looking at me, then looking at Katie, looking at Katie, then looking at me. "Hey now," he said. "Don't I know.." Before he could get any further, the purse slung over Katie's shoulder gave a buzz. She gave the clerk one last dopey grin, then slid the purse down her arm and reached inside. Instantly her expression changed. She looked at me with Rory's bright blue eyes narrowed down to worried slits. "Shit," she said. "Mom got off early." We scrambled out of the store and charged across the parking lot, leaving the clerk drooling behind us. I stumbled again on the gravel. Katie charged around the car and jumped behind the wheel. "Wait a minute," I protested. "You said I could drive." She had the engine running before she even closed the door. "You drive like what you are -- an old lady. Just get in." Katie threw twin jets of gravel from the wheels getting out of there and nipped through the light in the middle of town while it was definitely on the red side of yellow. For the first couple of blocks I was worrying mostly about what we were going to do if we got pulled over, but then I started worrying about what would happen if we didn't. "What are we going to do?" I grabbed a handful of dark wavy hair and twisted it around my fingers. "We're not us." Katie was staring straight ahead, an intense look on her super pretty loaner face. "Mom is stopping at the grocery then going by the DQ for some food. We've got maybe half an hour once we get home." "To do what?" I could hear my voice rising in panic and swallowed hard. "Put on a different dress?" "No, mommy." Katie barely slowed as she plowed through the next intersection. "I think I know how to turn us back to us." Before I could get any more details Katie skidded the car into our driveway and hopped out. I followed, still cussing my stupid shoes and feeling more self conscious than ever about my bare legs, my dress, and all my lady parts. Inside the house, Katie grabbed something from the front room then charged down the hall. "What are you doing?" I asked as I stumbled behind. She ran into my room, bent over the big VCR, and I heard the weird mechanism inside rise up to pop out the tape we'd been watching when we got Gilmorized. Then I saw Katie slam in another tape and shove it down. "There," she said. Then she stood up and immediately began peeling off her top. The TV screen lit up with a shaky image of a white sand beach and some circling gulls. At first I didn't recognize what I was seeing, mostly because i was more interested in how the light from the screen played across Rory's bare body, but then I glanced back at the screen and saw a petite girl in a black one piece swimsuit. Katie. A minute later, some goofy looking guy with a cheapo foam body board wandered into view. Me. "It's our vacation video!" I shouted. "Yes, genius. It's a tape of nothing but you and me." The previous summer, the family had taken a rather sad three day vacation at Panama City beach while coming back from one of Katie's gymnastics meets. Mom had carried the same bulky old camera she'd been using to document all Katie's meets since she was three, and kept pointing it at me and Katie. It had been irritating at the time, but now it was a lifesaver. Katie plopped down on the edge of the bed, rolled on her back and stuck her legs up in the air. With a few skillfull swivels of Rory's famous hips, she slipped out of her skirt. She titled her head, long brown hair spilling across the bed. She saw me looking at a her with my mouth hanging open and rolled her blue eyes. "Come on, Lorelia, isn't this what you've been waiting for? Peel off that dress, girl, and get that vintage ass over here." For a second I could only stare. Could I really do this? I mean, no matter what she looked like, she was my sister. Kind of. On the other hand, she looked... she looked... I kicked off the damned shoes and struggled out of the green dress. Somewhere along the line, something ripped, but a minute later I was naked, ready, and standing at he foot of the bed. A minute after that, I was still standing. I raised up my arms and hid as much of me as I could. "I can't do this. I mean, I don't even know what to do." Katie raised a hand to me. "Come on," she said. "You don't have to do anything." "Katie, I..." "Shhh. Come down here." Her fingers found mine and she pulled me down, snug up against her on the narrow space of my twin bed. Her smooth skin pressed up against me nearly head to toe. Despite being sure that I couldn't do anything with Katie -- no matter whose body either was of us was wearing -- I could feel the increasingly familiar sensation of my groin furnace switching to Extra Hot. "What are you..." She rolled onto her side, facing me with a grin. "Did you know that women your age are at their sexual peak?" "I'm not..." Her hand rested lightly on the soft inner side of my thigh. "Plus you've got all these brand new joy spots." Her fingers slid upward with aching slowness. "I figure this will take five minutes. Tops." Before she'd even touched more than my leg, every muscle in my long, thin, borrowed body tightened up like a bowstring. My back arched up and away from the bed. My toes curled. The fire between my legs spread over my skin. Her fingers moved again. It took two minutes. Tops. The next thing I knew, someone was shaking me awake. I rubbed at one eye. "Did it work, are... we..." My voice trailed away. Because it wasn't my voice. I sat up quickly and opened my eyes. Sitting on the edge of the bed was... me. "Katie?" The person who looked just like I'd looked that morning nodded. "Yeah, we're us. We're just turned around the wrong way." I looked down at myself. I was Katie. And I was still naked. "Shit," I said. I crossed one arm over my boobs. "We've got to try again." Katie rolled her eyes -- my eyes -- at me. "Dude, what's the point of covering up? It's not like I haven't been seeing those things every day since I was thirteen." She looked around the floor, found the pants I'd shed back during my Mean Girls session, and pulled them on. I had to close my eyes as she arranged my junk, comando style, in the jeans and zipped them closed. "What are you doing?" "Looking for a shirt," she said, digging through the discarded clothing n the floor. "But aren't we going to try again? I mean, we can't stay this way!" Katie gave up searching the floor and turned to look at me. "Are you saying you want to fuck. Like this?" I shivered. "He'll, no." "Me neither," said Katie. "I mean, that little body of mine does look hella hot from out here, but that would be just too weird. Besides, there's no time. You were out for like fifteen minutes. Mom's going to be here any second." "Shit," I said again. I slid to the end of the bed and found that my feet were still dangling in the air. I hopped down and found myself looking up at Katie. It was strange enough looking at myself from the outside. It was even stranger looking up at myself from a body nine inches shorter. "Jesus," I said. "I feel like a gnome." Katie grinned at me. "Aren't you a little cutie. Maybe it wouldn't be all that strange after all. " "Shut up." I peered past her shoulder at the mirror across the room. I could just make out the top of my head in the glass. Just then there was a flash of light through the window as a car pulled into the driveway. Katie and I raced around the room gathering up the scattered clothes. Katie shoved the torn green dress into the stack in my ams. "You need to go to my room," said Katie. "If there's one thing that would really freak mom out, it would be finding you in here naked." I nodded. "What do I do?" "Just wait. Maybe we can try again when mom's asleep." "Right." I turned and started to leave, when Katie called me back. "Hang on there, sis. You might want this." When I turned around, she was holding out the silver vibrator. I grabbed it and sprinted across the hall just as I heard mom coming in the back door. As quietly as possible, I closed the door to Katie's room. For a few minutes,I just stood there in the dark, breathing. The light in the room was off, and with just the thin line of light leaking in under the door, I couldn't see my new anatomy, but I could still feel the cool air over my bare skin. I shivered. There had to be a way out of this. Once I heard mom putting away things in the kitchen, I relaxed enough to toss the armload of stuff I was carrying onto Katie's bed and fumble along the wall looking for a light switch. I scratched at the paint for what seemed like a full minute before remembering that the switch was now a lot higher than I was used to and slid my fingers up the wall to find it. When the light clicked on, I saw a naked Katie reflected in the mirror tacked to the back of the door. Immediately I turned away. Yes, this was definitely strange, but I still felt embarrassed about seeing my sister naked. I looked at the stuff on the bed. Besides the crumpled and torn blue-green dress, there was the skirt and black tank top Katie had worn while in Rory's body. None of it looked inviting. I crossed quickly to the dresser and pulled open a drawer. Inside was a heap of underwear even more disorganized than what was in my usual drawer. I held out a pair of panties at arms length, holding them between my fingers like a kind of unpleasant insect. I eyed them for a few seconds. Even from inside Katie's body they seemed tiny. I dropped then on the top of the dresser and fished out a bra. 32-B, said the tag on the tan cotton and spandex contraption. I knew enough about bra sizes to know that B sized boobs were supposed to be small, but what I saw when I took another quick look in the mirror was nothing that I'd call small. Katie's girls weren't huge, but she was right when she said they beat what Rory--or Lorelai--was packing. I dropped the bra next to the panties and reached in the drawer again. What I came out with next was one of the bodysuits Katie wore for gymnastics. I picked up the glossy suit and looked at it. Red stripes along the sides, pale blue in the middle. This wasn't one of the fancier suits I'd seen Katie wear in the final rounds of competitions, but I remembered seeing her flip the length of the balance beam in this suit, or tumble the length of the mat in the floor exercise. Suddenly, I really, really wanted to try on the bodysuit. As many times as I'd seen Katie and her teammates wearing the things, I had no idea how to get into it. Even wearing Katie's petite body, the suit seemed ridiculously small. After turning it over in my hands a few times, I did the only thing I could think of--I stuck my feet into the open neck of the suit, slid each leg through one of the openings at the other end, then squeezed, wiggled, and tugged myself inside. It took me a few tries before I was able to wrestle my arms through the sides, but then it was on. Looking back at me from the mirror was not just Katie, my sister, but Katie Marshall, three time state silver medalist in uneven bars and last year's bronze medalist in the all around. I stepped closer to the glass. The sleek, shiny fabric of the suit hugged my small body. The flat strip of cloth between my tighs pressed against my smooth crotch. My breasts were smoothed down to neat little half globes by the tension of thr fabric. The edges of the suit cut neatly along the sides of my round ass, and the red stripes on the side made my waist seem even tinier. How many times had I ridden along to some competition of Katie's? How many times had I done my homework up in the bleachers of some gym while mom cheered on Katie? How many times had I dutifully clapped while Katie won a medal? The whole family had been centered around Katie's gymnastics as long as I could remember. And now I was Katie. Slowly, I leaned to the left and raised my right foot off the ground. And raised it. And raised it. And raised it until my toes were pointing straight up at the ceiling. Amazing. I lowered my leg, leaned back and with with only a slight wobble, curled back until I had balanced myself on my hands. I flipped back onto my feet, raised my arms overhead, and smiled toward the mirror. "Thank you," I said, nodding toward imaginary watchers. Being in Cady's curvy body had been exciting, but it had felt kind of awkward. Being Lorelia hadn't felt right at all. But Katie... This body felt like a pair of really good jeans. Tight, but flexible. Comfortable, but tough. For a moment I thought about the woman in the Treasure Palace who had given me the VCR. She'd said something about how good her body felt. Maybe there was a right kind of body for everyone. Maybe Katie... Before I cold finish the thought, the door to the bedroom popped open. "Katie, are you here?" My mom said as she stepped into the room. I whirled around toward her, my arms still stupidly raised above my head. I felt like I should be covering something, but I didn't know what. Everything was wrong. I needed to cover my whole body. "Uhhh," I said. "Hi, mom." My mother was still wearing her pale gray scrubs from work, and I could tell she was exhausted, but instead of screaming at me, she flashed a smile. "Oh, Katie. It's great to see you back in your gear. And you've cut your hair!" Cut my hair? I ran my fingers through my short brown bob and glanced over my shoulder at the mirror. Since quitting the team that fall, Katie had been letting her hair grow and had dyed it midnight black, but I was a copy of Katie from last summer, and my hair matched hers from competition days. "Yeah, well," I said. "I was getting tired of it the other way?" Mom bit her lip, and I could see this insane hope come into her eyes. "Sweetie, are you thinking about getting back on the team?" I knew that I should say no, but I hated to crush mom so completely. I shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe." She stepped toward me and grabbed my hands. "Honey, there's still time for you to get a scholarship. I know there is." "I'll think about it, mom. Really, I will." Mom stared at me for a moment longer. I could see that she wanted to say more, but the relationship between mom and Katie over the last year had mostly consisted of yelling. She was probably afraid of pushing too hard. Instead she dropped my hands and turned toward the door. "I brought Chinese," she said. "Come on into the kitchen and eat with me. Have you seen your brother." "She... He's in my... I mean his room," I said Mom shook her head as she stepped into the hall. "No, he's not." I hurried after her. It occurred to me that if Katie saw me wearing her bodysuit, she'd never let me forget it, but that wasn't what worried me. I grabbed the sides of the door to my room and looked in. Mom was right. I wasn't there. I mean, Katie wasn't there. And neither was the VCR. Under my TV there was just some disconnected cables. "Holy fuck." I said quietly. It really was the phrase of the day. The End Author's note -- thanks for putting up with my oh so slow writing pace. I have another story on the way, along with some background info on these mysterious VCRs. Talk to you soon! Dee