Mating Spell
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Undoing A Spell free porn video
Undoing a Spell
It had initially been a good, but strange, start to the week for me - Paul
Jensen, high school student and computer nerd.
On Sunday I hung out, as I sometimes did, with Mandy Edwards, the girl
next door. Our mothers were best friends so we were inevitably pretty good
friends from childhood. But on Sunday, I couldn't put my finger on it, but
something was different. I felt like maybe there were some romantic sparks
between us? I'd wished this for a long time, but finally, on Sunday, the
way she gave me a little smile sometimes was... different. Maybe she was
finally noticing me as a potential boyfriend? After years of just being
friends I didn't want to get my hopes up, but it looked promising.
So I went to school on Monday on a bit of a high. It was a strange
morning. While getting changed for PE (Physical Education), I spotted Rob
Walsh looking at me in a funny way. Rob was a member of the football team,
and he was one of the few "jocks" who I was friendly with. It was a
strange friendship - it started when we were made to sit together during
maths class a year or two earlier. I helped with his maths a little, and
he seemed to respect me as a friend. So although we had completely
different groups of friends, he'd always say a "hello" as we passed in the
corridor.
But the way he looked at me in the change-rooms... what was that? Was Rob
gay? I found that hard to believe, because he'd had quite a few
girlfriends. I shrugged it off - "If he's gay, that's his business," I
thought. Although on second thoughts, the look wasn't like a guy looking
at someone he fancied. It was a confused, puzzled look. Weird.
The other strange incident was with Janet Hayes - a sweet-as-can be girl,
who I actually slightly fancied, but who I knew wouldn't have time for
someone like me. I lived in an entirely different world to Janet - I'd
heard she was quite a proficient dancer, and spent a lot of time doing
dance classes and competitions, but I barely knew her. But now she was
looking at me strangely. It was like the strange look Rob had given me.
I wouldn't have given it much thought if I hadn't got the same puzzled
look from two entirely different people. One strange look I wouldn't worry
about, but two strange looks was a bit unnerving.
Still, that was Monday morning. Lunch time and afternoon had been the
usual. I was largely ignored - as usual. I zipped through my school work,
and had time to do a little programming on the school computers. The
morning's strange episodes were forgotten.
But when I got home, there was a surprise: a very official looking black
car, with government number plates, was outside.
I stepped inside. I was relieved to see my Mum. Our family was just the
two of us: my Mum and me. She worked hard, and supported us to a decent if
modest standard of living. I tried to repay that by working hard myself,
so that I could get into a good university course.
"What's the matter Mum?" I asked.
"Well..." she said. "Nothing serious. I mean it's important, but not
serious. No one's died or anything like that. Come in and let me introduce
you to... Mr. Smith."
"Hi Paul, pleased to meet you," said the Mr. Smith. He looked like your
typical anonymous government worker. He was dressed in a conservative
suit. He had a pile of papers and a laptop computer, switched on, on our
coffee table. Yet there was something strange about him which I couldn't
put my finger on. "Come and sit down."
"May I just get a drink?" I asked.
"Sure" he said. I went to the kitchen, got a glass of cold water, and sat
down. There were the three of us - Mr. Smith, my Mum and I - in different
lounge chairs around our little coffee table.
"As I said, my name is Mr. Smith," he said. "I'm from the Federal Bureau
of Magic."
"Of magic?" I said. Of course I didn't believe in magic, but he seemed so
important that I didn't dare sneer or otherwise indicate I didn't believe
him.
"That's right, magic. Of course this department is top secret - the
government doesn't officially acknowledge that magic even exists, let
alone that we have a department of magic. Our job is to monitor magic.
Actually a lot of magic happens across the country. Usually, so long as no
one is harmed, we just let it go. But sometimes... sometimes a spell goes
awry. When that happens, it is our job to step in and undo it."
"So... how does this affect me?"
"Well Paul, a few days ago, someone cast a spell on you"
"On me?"
"That's right, on you. You didn't realise, but part of the spell was that
you wouldn't realise it. Actually we disapprove of this - changing
people's memories to not realise what has happened. But usually we let it
go. But in this case, the spell has got out of hand."
"In what way?" I asked. My life seemed to be rolling pretty well, if
uneventfully.
"You see Paul, when a spell changes something, it can't change the past.
What it does is changes people's memories, and it changes all the way we
record those memories - photos, letters, computer files, etc. This is fine
for a person who's young and has led a quiet life. But as people get
older, and travel and meet people, more and more memories and records have
to be altered. It becomes too much for the spell. The spell breaks down,
leaving inconsistencies in reality. In that case, the best solution is to
undo the spell."
Mr. Smith looked at my mum. "For privacy reasons, I must ask you to leave
the room now, Ms. Jensen. You can observe us from the kitchen."
My mother got up and left the room. Mr. Smith pressed a button on a
strange looking device, "That's so she doesn't hear us by accident."
"So Paul," he continued, "the problem is, it was a fairly significant
spell Paul. It changed... it changed your gender."
"My gender? I don't think so!" I glanced down with a chuckle. "Everything
was there last time I looked."
"No, you don't understand. Your gender was changed a few days ago. You
used to be female."
"What?"
"You used to be female. You were born female. Until a few days ago, your
name was Paula Jensen."
"What? That's insane! That's not possible."
"No Paul, it is possible."
"But... but I can always remember being male... being Paul... growing up
as a boy."
"All part of the spell Paul. It altered your memory. And it altered the
memory of all around you, so that everyone remembers you being Paul. Well,
almost everyone. That's part of the problem."
"But even if it's true... why?"
"I guess someone thought they were doing you a favour. As Paula, your
interests were pretty much limited to dancing, fashion, and boys.
Certainly not study and schoolwork, despite being intelligent. Perhaps
your good figure was your downfall. But as Paul, without the distraction,
you've stayed as an A grade student. Someone who's good to his Mum, goes
to church with her, does the right thing. I've been looking at your old
school records. It's quite a change."
"But how can the old records even exist then, if magic changed
everything?" I asked smugly, thinking I had him trapped by his own logic.
"Magic-proof records, Paul. At the FBM, we make copies of all sorts of
school, company and Internet records, and store them in our magic proof
building. When magic alters the original records, we can compare them with
ours, and see where magic has been tampering with people's sense of
history."
"Look, here are the school records for Paula Jensen, from our FBM files."
I took a look, with a mixture of cynicism, amazement, and a little dread.
There were report card for Paula Jensen - pretty much identical mine until
she was 13, then in a downward spiral, whereas I still got an "A" in most
subjects. There were dancing certificates and trophies - which meant
little to me, because I never did dancing.
Stranger, I saw class photos - just like mine, but in all of them I had
long hair and a dress. They looked incredibly realistic - better than any
Photoshop I'd seen. But couldn't those photos be doctored?
"What do these photos prove?" I asked. "Everyone has access to Photoshop
these days."
Mr. Smith chuckled. "Yes, I thought you'd mention that. Fortunately, I
have more proof"
"Remember I said that, in some cases, there is too much reality for the
spell to alter? That is what's happened here. The spell wasn't strong
enough to change every aspect of our memories and records. It's left
behind anomalies. Clues that reality has been altered."
"See those dance trophies? As Paula, you won some statewide competitions
when you were younger - until you gave up dancing when you discovered
boys. When the spell tried to change reality, with you as a male, suddenly
another girl, in another town, had to have won it. But then this would
have changed this other girl's childhood - from runner-up to a champion.
There's a ripple affect. Too much would have changed."
"So the spell left some things unchanged," he continued, "Paula Jensen, a
girl who apparently never existed, is still listed as the winner of some
state championships. Here, let me show you on this website."
He showed me the website of the state dance championships. P. Jensen
appeared as the winner of several girls' competitions.
"So what's the problem?" I asked. "It's only a small state competition.
Can't this be a P. Jensen somewhere else, who's now given up dancing?"
"From your school?" he asked.
I noted the school was mine. "Maybe a mistake?"
"Perhaps, but she's still around," Mr. Smith said. "She - or he - is still
at school. The problem was, other people at your school do dancing. One in
particular was at several of those competitions." He looked straight at
me, "Janet Hayes."
I gasped. For the first time, Mr. Smith's presentation hit me. Janet
Hayes. The funny look she'd given me. Until now I had figured that Mr.
Smith had printed some bogus records and Photoshopped my old school
photos. But how could he have arranged for Janet Hayes to look at me in
such a puzzled way?
"The magic couldn't change who won those dance competitions. It wasn't
strong enough. Paula Jensen won them. But around your school, there is
only memory of the male, Paul Jensen. So Janet remembers you as a male.
But she also remembers you as Paula, the champion dancer."
"You mean, she remembers me as a female impersonator?"
"Worse. Stranger. She danced with you. She saw you in a tight leotard.
She's been in a change room with you. She's seen you in girl's underpants
and a bra. She knows Paula is a girl."
"It's a contradiction. She knows you were a girl. But now, she knows you
are a boy. She knows the two are the same person. There's no resolution.
It's a contradiction in her mind."
"Whoah, back up," I said. "Just because you've got these photos, and just
because you claim Janet Hayes remembers me as a girl, that doesn't prove I
was."
"But there's other things Paul. Things from your own experience. Let me
ask, how often do you go swimming?"
"These days, hardly ever." I replied, "Of course Mum used to take me a lot
when I was younger, but I spend a lot of time on my computer these days."
"Then why do you have 4 new pairs of board shorts?"
How did he know about my wardrobe? "Because they look good. Mandy Edwards
and I won a shopping spree..."
"Half right, Paul" said Mr. Smith, "Mandy Edwards and PAULA Jensen won a
shopping spree. And bought four bikinis each. But when the spell changed
reality, it changed yours into board shorts. The trouble is, the spell
created an unrealistic situation. How likely is it for a boy to buy four
different bathing costumes? And to go shopping for them with a girl?"
It DID seem strange, now I thought about it. I had even helped Mandy pick
her bathing costumes, and commented on how she looked in them. Yet I
didn't remember feeling the least bit turned on.
"But Mandy's just a friend," I said, "the girl next door. It might sound
strange, but I can do things like that with her, without it having to be a
boyfriend-girlfriend thing."
"OK," continued Mr. Smith. "How about when you were younger. You went
swimming with your Mum. It was just the two of you. So tell me... Where
did you get changed?"
"The women's changero-" I began, before realising how strange that
sounded. But I recovered, "But that's not totally unusual. Unaccompanied
boys sometimes get changed in the women's change-rooms with their
mothers."
"Up to the age of 12, Paul?"
"Well... it does sound unusual, I guess. But Mum and I are very close, and
I guess she felt protective. That's what we did."
"I never perved at anyone, honest!"
"Well of course you didn't, Paul," said Mr. Smith smugly, "Paula wasn't
likely to perv at other women, was she?"
"Well..." I said weakly, "even if you're right, what's the problem? I'm
Paul, I remember being Paul, I enjoy being Paul. You even say that Paul is
doing much better at life than this supposed Paula. Why do you want to
change me back?"
"Because, like I said Paul, there are too many contradictions. Reality is
beginning to crack. We could end up with a very strange reality."
"I've already mentioned Janet Hayes, who knows you're a girl and who
simultaneously knows you're a boy also. I've mentioned Mandy Edwards, who
remembers shopping with you for bikinis."
"But I said Paula had three interests: dancing, fashion... and boys."
I gulped. I knew where this was heading. Rob Walsh.
As if he read my mind, he said, "Has Rob Walsh given you any strange looks
lately?"
"You - or should I say Paula - were Rob Walsh's first date. Again, the
magic had a dilemma. It couldn't make another girl Rob's first date,
because that would change the identity of her first date, setting off a
chain reaction. And it couldn't remove the date altogether, because Rob
was less nervous with Julie Squires, because it wasn't his first date."
"So it left Paula Jensen - the female you - as his first date"
"So... couldn't that just be a trick of his memory," I stammered weakly.
"If only, Paul, if only. Unfortunately, he had a photo taken. And he put
it on his Facebook." Mr. Smith moved his mouse and opened up Facebook.
"See there is Rob in a suit. And there's Paula - the female you - in a
blue dress. It's there on Facebook for anyone to see, if they look through
Rob's old albums."
I looked in disbelief. While the old class photos were less obvious -
people change as they grow up, and there were 30 people in those photos
anyway - this one was much, much more clear. The girl had a face which
looked exactly - and I mean exactly - like mine, but with long hair. And
lipstick.
And a dress. A dress which, while not revealing, was low enough cut to
show she - I - had breasts.
While it looked like me, there was absolutely no way it could be Paul
Jensen in drag. No male could fill out the dress the way that girl did.
The person in the photo was unmistakably me. And unmistakeably female.
"How... how do I know that's not a Photoshop too?" I protested (while
thinking in my mind. "This has to be the best Photoshop I've seen in my
life").
"Well, strictly speaking, you can't PROVE it. But Rob knows. He knows he
didn't Photoshop it. He knows what he saw that night. He even managed a
kiss, I believe. His first kiss. He remembers that too.
"So..."
So Rob Walsh, like Janet Hayes, knows you are female. But now Rob's also
seen you in the change-room. He knows you're male too. Another
contradiction.
"You've also dated Matt Reynolds and Kane Porter. They've been on dates
with you, so they know you must be female. But they'll see you in the
change-rooms too, if they haven't already, so they'll also know you're
male. Contradiction."
"But," I said, grasping at straws, "so a few people have a contradictory
view of me. It's still their word against mine... right?"
"I'm afraid not Paul. Reality could fracture more. More contradictions
could appear. You could grow up with a very confused set of relationships:
with more and more people not knowing who or what you really are."
"There's no alternative Paul. I've got a blue crystal here. Simply touch
it, and the magic disappears. You go back to how you were."
"Paula the lazy student?" I asked.
"No Paul. Like I said, we at the FBM don't approve of rewriting people's
memories. The spell rewrote it once. It's too dangerous - and unethical -
to rewrite again. You've been Paula the lazy student, as you put it. Then
Paul the quiet student. Now you'll be Paula the quiet student. You'll have
your quiet and studious manner. And you'll have Paula's good looks."
"Whoever cast that spell, wanted to improve your life Paul. By undoing it,
it will actually be improving it more. You'll be Paula - the way you were
born, the way God created you - but with a healthy and responsible
attitude."
"The spell will still have had its intended effect - of making Paula a
better person - without having to twist reality again to do so."
"Your mother is out of the room, so the magic shield doesn't affect her.
But she'll know that you're recovering from the undoing of a spell of some
sort. So she'll be able to help you settle back in to life as Paula"
"Come on Paul, touch the crystal. It will fix your life up again."
Have you ever had a salesman you just couldn't say no to? This was how I
felt. I felt like I had no alternative but to touch the crystal. In
retrospect, I should have gone upstairs to pee standing one last time. Or
to jack off one last time. Perhaps I should have simply asked him to come
back in a couple of weeks - after all, no real damage was being done,
there were just some very confused memories of a couple of people at my
school.
But Mr. Smith made such perfect sense, I felt I had no alternative.
I signed the release form.
My mother left the kitchen.
I didn't even feel my manhood one last time. I just laid my hand on the
crystal.
In an instant it changed from blue to pink, but I didn't notice anything
else different.
"Done," said Mr. Smith. He looked me up and down approvingly. "Thank you,
Miss Jensen. Could you please just sign this other form, using the name
Paula Jensen."
I took the pen, and noticed I now had pink sleeves, and my hand seemed a
bit smaller. I paused, then wrote, "Paula Jensen."
Had I actually changed? I felt so normal. I felt no different.
Looking down, I could see that my chest stuck out in a way it didn't
before. But I was too embarrassed to look closely at myself. So as Mr.
Smith made some small talk with my Mum, I just just acted indifferent, but
allowed one hand to casually brush below my waist, as I had done thousands
of times before.
Except this time, there was nothing protruding. All I felt was a smooth
mound. But still I couldn't believe it. Maybe my dick was tucked
underneath?
I tried to act casual. Everything still felt normal, as long as I didn't
feel myself.
"Thank you Paula. Good day. Good day Mrs. Jensen."
My mother smiled. "Thank you Mr. Smith."
"Goodb-" I began, then noticed my voice. I began again, but the same high
voice came out. "Goodbye Mr. Smith" I said softly.
And he was out the door.
What had I done?
Finally I had the courage to look down.
I was wearing a pink shirt, with two very obvious breasts protruding.
I looked further down. I was still wearing jeans. But these jeans hugged
my body in a very different way to what I had previously been wearing. It
was obvious, looking at my smooth crotch, that wasn't much room for male
hardware there.
"Well, I trust you feel better now Paula," my mum said.
"Mum, do you even know what Mr. Smith did?" I asked, still amazed at my
high voice.
"I gather that he removed a spell darling. Hopefully you'll be feeling
better. You've been acting very strangely for a long time now."
Oh great. Mum didn't know I'd been a boy. She just knew there'd been a
spell.
"I... I'll just go to my room," I whispered.
"Are you OK Paula?" she asked.
"Yes Mum," I said, "I just... I just need some time to recover."
Understatement of the year.
I got to my room, and shut the door.
My room was totally different: a pink laptop, lots of girl stuff, and a
full length mirror.
I unzipped my jeans, immediately noticing how close my hand was to my
crotch without the familiar rubbing against my penis.
Yet... how can I describe it... I still felt like I had a penis. I could
sense it was in there, somewhere.
I pulled my jeans down, revealing a very feminine pair of panties.
I touched my scrotum through my panties. At least it felt like my scrotum.
I knew it was actually my labia, but the sensation was the same as a
scrotum - minus the balls inside. It sure was strange to push it and not
squeeze anything tender.
And I felt like a penis was there. I slipped a hand down my panties, and
quickly found it. But it was much smaller, and it was actually wrapped
inside my scrotum - I mean labia. Later I would learn it was now called a
clitoris.
It felt like a penis. But when I rubbed my hand down my front, it didn't
protrude. It was buried inside my... my labia.
As if defying reality, I tried to part the lips and push it out. I
couldn't. It was too small.
I decided to take off my clothes and look in the mirror. What was strange
was how little I'd changed. Obviously I had breasts and no penis. But my
build - weak muscles and a little chubby - had hardly changed, but looked
right on a girl. Perhaps I was a little curvier, but that was all. My face
was almost unchanged, but while it had been the face of an immature
teenage boy, it was now framed with longer hair, and looked... sweet and
innocent.
This can't be real, I thought. An hour ago I was Paul. Now it turned out
that I was a girl - a real girl, with a vagina and breasts - and all my
memories before last week weren't real. Was it really true? Was I really
Paula? Was Paul really a figment of my imagination?
Everything I'd learned told me that this magic was impossible. But here I
was. I had changed. Every sight, every touch, confirmed it.
I fell on my bed and cried myself to sleep.
I woke up cold, maybe an hour later. I realised why I was cold - I was
naked. Then I remembered why I'd taken my clothes off. I looked down and
saw my breasts again, and gave a little sob.
I felt down between my legs again. Still no penis. No no no no, this can't
be real. But it was.
I had no idea how I'd manage.
*****
Well that was a month ago. Since then, I've tried to come to terms with
life as Paula.
I've scoured the Internet for any mention of Mr. Smith and the FBM. I
thought I'd try to explain to him that I'd changed my mind, and I'd like
to change back. But there's no trace of them. There seems to be no going
back. There is no changing the fact that I am Paula, and everyone
remembers me as Paula.
There are all sorts of reasons I don't like being a girl: it takes longer
to get ready, and takes longer to use the bathroom. Washing my hair seems
to take forever. I've just had my first period - man, I could do without
that. And I'm coming to terms with the idea that if, if I ever have
children, it will be me going through the pain of childbirth.
You might think it's easy to get used to, but it's not. I'm reminded of my
change all the time. Every time I got dressed, I wear a bra. Every time I
fill out a form, I mark "F" for female. Every time I open my mouth, my
voice is high. Every time I cross my legs, there is nothing in the way.
Every time I used the toilet, I have to sit. There is no escaping my
femininity.
Also, as Mr. Smith told me, Paula had been very slack at school. But I
refuse to be like the old Paula. It might be hard being female, but I'm
determined to make the best of it. So I am working extra hard to catch up.
As Paul, I was working hard to get into a good university course. I wasn't
going to waste that effort. My grades are improving, and slowly getting up
to where they were before. I'm surprising a lot of teachers by how much I
know. That is some satisfaction.
I use my workload as an excuse not to date, because a couple of the guys
seem determined to ask me out. No thanks - I'm not interested in dating a
boy. Not yet, anyway.
I also feel a lot weaker than before. I'm reminded of it every time I
speak, but I also notice it every time I try to push or lift something.
And yet, I've got to admit, I never used it much as a guy. I didn't play
sport, and I was trying to get into computer programming, a career in
which body strength - or the ability to quickly use the bathroom - doesn't
matter.
I thought about that parable in the Bible, where the man who didn't use
his gift had it taken away. Maybe this was God's way of saying, "If you're
not going to be masculine, you might as well be a girl."
Or perhaps Mr. Smith was right: the hard work of my male personality had
improved the life of Paula.
Either way, I still wish I had my penis back - then life would be better
still.
Mandy came around today. I think she'd noticed I'd dropped some of Paula's
more outrageous ways, and that I'm applying myself to schoolwork again.
"Do you want to go to the mall - like we used to?" she asked.
"That'd be great Mandy. But a limit of one swimsuit this time, OK?"
She giggled.
"And not all day, I've still got an assignment to finish."
"I'm not sure what's come over you Paula," she laughed, "but the change in
you has been great. It's like magic."
"Well I'd rather one more magic spell, but sometimes you can't have
everything," I answered.
Mandy gave me a strange look, then shook her head and burst into laughter
again.
The End.
Uma
- 18.10.2020
- 16
- 0
