I woke up to my phone alarm going off. The weird dream was fragmented and faded. I couldn’t recall detail like the men's voices or their shapes. Just that I was a girl, what was said, and I enjoyed myself in that way. I must have taken one too many blows to my head at last night's game. It was such a ridiculous dream. Chuckling, I reached for my phone. Several things happened at the same time. A cute, melodious chuckle sounded in the room, I saw a thin arm reaching for my phone, and I felt a weight shift on my chest as my body moved. I froze in place. I thought of last night's fragmented dream as the horror of what just happened sunk in.
I clicked off the alarm. 'Nope. I'm still asleep. I'll wake up and everything will be fine,' I told myself and closed my eyes. I drifted back to sleep only to hear my mother knocking on my door. It was still the same voice I always heard. Even her, “Are you going to get up for breakfast?” was the same thing she said every Saturday morning and I breathed a sigh of relief.
I smiled but it didn’t last because my reply of, “I’m up” was still in a girl’s tone. I didn’t panic. I couldn’t. My mom raised me by herself. Most of the time she was calm and collected. Not many people knew how much she suffered raising me. How much she hid from the world to appear that way. I did and I also knew that I would hide this from her for as long as I could, so I didn’t add to her stress. For all I knew. I had a concussion from last night’s game, was still in my six' four muscled body, and all this was a hallucination. Yup, just a concussion. Ok, even I couldn't convince myself of that.
I started looking around my room, but it looked identical. Other than the dresser was had a slightly different design and the crumbled football uniform that I threw on the floor the night was now a cheerleading outfit. The new high school’s logo of a hellcat hadn't changed and was still sewn on the left breast area. They had used reflective treads for the eyes, so they appeared to stare up as if mocking me that the uniform had changed.
Even the small, old, and worn bookcase still sat in the far corner. It was just the more I looked, the more details I saw were wrong. It was like a horrible picture find game. The books, for example, looked the same but the titles written in the spines were different. I had been trying to get my grades up in case I didn't get a sports scholarship, so my bookcase was filled with educational books I had found at a secondhand shop. Now those books were some type of hippy "magic and you" type of nonsense.
I got up from the bed and realized that I was naked. That didn’t surprise me much. I was usually sore and liked to sleep unimpeded after each game. It was just that I never woke up as a small girl before. I fought to stay calm and tried to recall last night’s dream. I didn't remember all of it, the only sign it might have even happened were the finger size bruises along my hips and legs, and the aches and pains in my body. But if I was a cheerleader, I could have gotten them at the game last night. There were no messy liquids flowing out of me. No blood on my sheets. Nothing. So, it must have been a bad dream. One that felt as good as it was disturbing.
I didn't dwell on things I couldn't change. Instead, I grabbed a pair of shorts, a loose shirt and went to shower. I was hoping the water might wake me up from this nightmare. But all my hope of the water snapping me out of my delusion was quickly let go of. The water cascaded down my supple body, but I didn’t change back. Instead, my soapy hands roamed over fleshy mounds that felt very, very real. I lathered up my body trying to find some flaw but every place I touched felt like I thought it should.
I hadn’t really looked at my body since I woke up. In the dream, I knew what I looked like, but that image was hard to recall. Thankfully the bathroom had a mirror, which I used that after scrubbing myself down and drying off. I found it oddly comforting looking at my reflection. It was like a miniature, younger version of my mother looking back at me.
I was only about five’ two in height with dirty blonde hair that went all the way down my back, my breasts looked big on my new tiny frame, but they were firm. They stood proudly on my toned body that showed I had worked out regularly. My slim legs gave the illusion they were longer than this miniature body should have. My waste was narrow, and I had a decent ass, giving me an hourglass figure. This body looked like God had personally spent time making a perfectly portioned woman… and then forgot to make her taller. I was a miniature Goddess of beauty. At least, my version of what one would look like. Of course, I was biased since my new face was very similar to some of the old pictures I had seen of my mother when she was a teenager. Before, I had to assume I took after my father. I never met the man, but my mom was only five’ four and slim and nothing like my six’ four bulky frame.
No matter how pretty I my current body was I was freaking out. Only the thought that my mom would freak out if I did, kept me from breaking down. I had to hold it together and kept telling myself it wasn’t so bad. That, at least, I still had my mom. It wasn’t that bad. It didn’t take me long to calm down. I had gotten use to suppressing my emotions around my mom. It’s just that turning into a girl, loosing over a foot in height, and the massive reduction in frame size was going to take some getting used to.
Once I was calm, I dried off as best I could. Rivlets of water trailed down my body no matter how often I dried it. My hair seemed like a sponge and even after drying it, water leaked out. I finally wrapped my hair in the towel like I saw girls do on TV and got dressed. The shorts I pulled on were smaller and tighter than I thought they’d be, but the back of the shirt was long enough to cover them. The front of the shirt should have been but was pulled up by my breast causing my belly to show a little as I moved. The other issue I quickly noticed was that my new body’s nipples were poking out of the shirt’s thin fabric and were very easy to see. Whatever. My mom and me lived alone so it shouldn’t be an issue.
f I stayed this way, I would have to learn how to be a girl. I was still counting on waking up or finding a way to go back. I grabbed my phone before going to join my mother. It was the same model but the date on it was wrong! It wasn’t the date I remembered. It was the same day just a year earlier. Did that make this body sixteen or was I still seventeen? Ugh, I knew I didn’t have time to verify anything, I had spent too much time in the bathroom, so I quickly moved to the dining room.
“About time you got up lazy bones. Breakfast is getting cold.” My mom was already sitting down at the table but smiled up at me as I walked into the room.
I sat down and gave her the same answer I always did, “I needed the rest. It was a tough game last night. I think I’m going to stay in my room today and catch up on my studies.”
She gave me an odd look but still smiled and said, “Ok, sweety. I saw you at the game yesterday. You were amazing as always. I still worry about them throwing you like that though.”
I smiled. Not because I knew what she was talking about but because it was similar to her “I worry about you getting hit” comments she normally gave me. “I’ll be fine. Look how tough I am.” I flexed my skinny arms. Hmm, perhaps not as intimidating as normal. Normally that would reassure her but judging from her laugh, she just thought it was amusing.
She hesitated but still said, “By the way, Roy is going to be joining us for dinner tonight if that’s ok?” Roy? Who was Roy? My confusion must have showed because she continued, “He’s the man I met last month. I mentioned him to you. He seems nice so I wanted to introduce you to him.”
I did remember her mentioning a man but that was common. My mother was a sexy lady, so a lot of men hit on her. She would occasionally mention one that she liked but I never saw any of them. I wasn’t sure if this version of my mother was different, or the man was special and had a place in her heart. Still, what could I say? “Tonight, seems fine. I don’t have any plans.”
I ate breakfast and retreated to my room. I only came out to go to the bathroom and spent most of my time piecing together Stephanie’s day to day life and learning how to do girly things like brushing long hair without ripping my scalp away in the process. I had flipped through her schoolbooks and checked her phone.
The first thing I learn was that most of the things in this world were similar. I went to the same school, the brands of products I knew were still popular, and all the major countries and languages still existed. But there was one huge difference. This world had magic and all the classes I had in Green Valley High were slightly different. Math for example was now called Spell Construction which relied heavily on algebraic formulas. The mandatory choir class I was in, was now Harmonic Spell Casting. The fact that there was magic explained the books I had seen when I first woke up.
My next source of information came from text messages. The most recent three were from her friends: Victoria, Ann, and Janet. I was looking for clues on how I got here, and their messages seemed suspicious. For example, Janet’s message of [I think I found you a cure!!! Give it to you Friday before the game!]. Since Friday was the day, I showed up. I couldn’t help but wonder, did that “cure” bring me over and if so, could it send me back? Or did it have nothing to do with it? Between all the texts, hers seemed the most likely thing to have caused my current predicament.
I had to filter Ann’s texts. Most of hers were texts like [I slept with him! We were at his place and snuck away. I’m going to see him again tomorrow], [Going to a party to meet up. He has a friend, you interested? (Heart emoji)], [You don’t know what you missed. That boy is really interested in you and from the bulge in his pants, you’ll like him]. Having sex with her boyfriend and a boy that was interested about me were her common themes and she seemed a bit boy crazy. She had also kept trying to hook up the old me, no matter how many times I had replied I wasn’t interested. But intermingled in those texts were ones about “a charm”. A few of the more recent ones were, [Don’t feel down about it not working. Your supposed to wear it for a week. If it doesn't work, we'll try another one. It's bound to work!], [This time I think it’s going to work. I had it made by a master craftsman.] [Ok, Friday morning, meet me before school starts and I’ll give you the new one.] The last one about the charm was a week prior to my arrival and if it took a week, it would line up with my arrival. But I looked around but couldn't find anything that would fit the description of a charm, so it didn’t seem as likely.
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Victoria’s texts didn’t seem as likely. There wasn’t any mention of an item like a charm or potion. Her last texts revolved around me being picked on and some sort of experiment. Monday: [I can't believe those boys are still picking on you, you should tell somebody] Tuesday: [Steph, can I come over. I need to talk], Wednesday: [I’m sorry to put this on you. I needed to tell somebody.], Friday 7am: [Please don’t tell the others we did that experiment], Friday 2pm: [I think I made a mistake, don't hate me].
All their texts left me with more questions than answers. I put down my phone and checked her web history and emails on my computer. There were a lot of messages but the one from over a year ago that was marked as important caught my eye, so I clicked it. An official report was attached and when I opened that it showed Stephanie could cast ‘All’ magic. She then got monthly reports from the same government agency stating they could find nothing wrong with her body. The last one stated there might be a psychological reason for her lack of casting ability. These reports had been causing her extreme stress. The fact that Steph couldn't cast magic even though her magic rating was extremely high was extremely uncommon and they couldn’t figure out why. Did I show up because of her broken magic and all of this had nothing to do with her friends?
After reading all of that, I still didn’t know enough and had to accept my new reality. At least, until I figured out how to get back. I rummaged through her backpack, purse, and desk again. The most important thing in her purse was her school ID. Things like feminine pads, a mini-brush, tissues, lip balm, and aspirin, I dismissed right away. Her backpack held mostly schoolbooks and a spandex workout outfit and a clear bag to hold them in when dirty. Her desk held her class schedules for this and last years, along with pens, notebooks, and a shiny black box. The box had silvery writing that read, ‘All in One Makeup Kit’. I opened it just to be sure nothing was hidden inside. But I found nothing, even after sliding out the trays full of bright, shimmering colors. I put it back in the drawer, quickly glanced at the newest schedule and after noting that my locker and room numbers were the same put it away.
I had to call it quits. It was getting late, and I had to get dressed for dinner. The outfit I had on was comfortable but too revealing. The bra I finally put on was labeled 34D while the knee length yellow dress I settled on was a size four. I only noticed because I was trying to learn about female clothing, but those numbers meant nothing to me. I had picked the dress because it looked easier to get on than the skintight jeans, I found next to it. The most annoying thing about the dress were the thin spaghetti straps that kept falling off. Still, I didn’t find it uncomfortable and didn’t mind wearing it. Deep down, the way the bottom of the dress shifted as I walked made me want to childishly twirl.
When I was finally dressed and ready, I went out to dinner. I just stepped into the hallway when I heard voices. Our apartment wasn’t very big, and the walls were extremely thin, so being able to hear others was easy to do. As I walked over, I heard my mom saying, “Relax, she’s going to like you. Just be yourself and you’ll be fine.”
A man’s voice replied, “I’ll try but you’re important to me, so getting her approval is also important.” His reply and voice weren’t bad. I hoped he was a good person. My mom could use a decent man for once.
“She’s…” They must have heard me coming because my mom’s reply cut off. I saw Roy standing next to my mother. He was around five’ nine to her five’ three. He had a scholarly build to him. Neither too muscled nor too skinny. His body looked average, but he had a look about him that made him seem educated. Perhaps it was his gold rimmed glasses or the dress jeans I saw teachers wearing. I didn’t know. Since I wasn’t dating him, I didn’t put too much thought into figuring him out.
“Roy, this is my daughter Stephanie. Stephanie, this is Roy. He’s the man I was telling you about.”
The last part seemed obvious, but I didn’t comment. Instead, I smiled and said, “Hello Roy, as my mom said I’m Stephanie. It’s nice to meet you.”
“Hello, Stephanie. You are just as pretty as your mom said you were. You’re like a younger version of her.” I wasn’t used to people commenting on me being pretty, even if his comment to me was really to complement my mom. It worked because I saw her blushing a little. He seemed nice enough as we sat down to eat. I talked about “my” day which was really just me sharing little things I learnt in the last couple of hours. I was told Roy was a light surgeon and was going to ask what that was, but I “remembered” it before I could. It was probably for the best since it was just this worlds version of a plastic surgeon. They usually focused in Bio and Holy magic to do complex surgeries that could revitalize and restore a person’s age or change their appearance. It was also very common knowledge so asking would have seemed strange.
As the conversation continued, I would remember some common knowledge when they were mentioned. Because I lacked a lot of common-sense information, I kept talking with him hoping to gleam more knowledge. I finally called it quits after an hour and a half, grabbed a drink, and with a “I’ll be in my room studying” left them to themselves.
Once I got back, I opened my bookbag and took out the books inside. I had glanced at them before but now I wanted to see how much was different in this world. At first, I read the book seriously but as I did, I began to remember all the information inside the book. I didn’t need to read it word for word. A quick skim over what was written was enough to recall the contents and understand what on that page. So, I finished the first book and opened the next one, then the next. Either Steph had spent countless hours memorizing these books or her memory was much better than mine.
It wasn’t until I got to the ‘Introduction to Spell Casting’ that I remembered the robotic voice in my head saying I learnt two spells: Earth Skin and Create Water. Both were in the book, so I repeated the words and movements for Earth Skin. I touched my pinky with my pointer finger said, “Hard as earth, flexible as the grass”. Something inside me moved and I watched as my skin became a little browner. It worked! I cast magic! I was surprised because it was something the other me had failed to do. Excited, I flipped randomly to another spell that the robotic voice hadn’t mentioned. It was called ‘Summer Breeze’ and was a level one wind spell. They were intro spells called cantrips by most people. They were simple to cast but even so, the spell I tried failed to cast. I reread the words and made sure they were right and tried again. Nothing. What did that mean? Did only naughty dreams get me spells, or did last night actually happen, and I needed men’s sperm? God, I was hoping it wasn’t the latter option because I wasn’t sure what I’d do about that.
A little desperate, I tried a few more, but finally gave up and read the other books. Even though I failed to cast other spells, I didn't come away without anything. I now knew that most spells had five levels. For example, a regeneration spell started out with a spell called 'Double Healing Rate'. Then went to Accelerated Healing, Regenerate limb, Instant Regeneration, until the final level called 'Second Life'. My book only showed first and second level spells but mentioned some of the more famous high-level spells, so I knew they existed just not the specifics.
I let out a yawn, looked at the time and decided to go to bed after I hit the bathroom. It was going on one A.M., and I still needed to learn how to pass as a girl by Monday. I was halfway back to my room when I heard squeak, squeak noises coming from my mom’s room. Her voice was low, but the thin walls allowed me to still hear her. Her “Ummm, softer she’ll wake up if we’re too loud.” Her voice rose as she let out a “AHH” followed by a “you’re so bad doing that. I’m trying to be quiet.”
A low masculine chuckle from Roy followed her statement and then I heard him say, “It’s ok. She’s probably asleep by now and she’s old enough to know what men and women do at night. Now let me…” What he wanted I didn’t know but my mom’s voice rose as he did it and I heard “OH GOD... SO GOOD… Yes… Harder… NO, no she’ll hear us. Oh GOD, AHHH!” the bed’s squeaking intensified as he had his way with my mother and even after I closed my door, I could still hear her “quiet” moans of pleasure. What am I hearing? My abstinent, nun-like mom was having sex?
The minutes passed and I knew there was no way I was going to be able to sleep with her and Roy having passionate sex. Their loving making noises became louder and filled my room, and I felt my clit and nipples getting hard. My body reacted and I envisioned me in my old body pushing into a girl but my mom’s “you feel so good” and ‘God damn you’re so deep inside me” destroyed my daydream. It fragmented. I could help but think of me on in this current body and a man pushing himself deep inside me. As if reliving a memory, I could feel how good it felt to have something pumping between my legs. It appeared in my head and a warm liquid seemed to soak my panties. I just peed so I didn’t know what the hell was going on, but my mom’s moans soon had me thinking of getting fucked. I normally thought of doing the fucking but now, try as I might, all I could think about was a man having his way with me. I listened to her bed squeaking, and my memory of last night and the bliss I had felt became clearer. I wanted sex bad it hurt. Like a switch had been flipped, my body became more sensitive, and my desire rose. I could feel the soft fabric of the shirt caressing my nipples as I moved.
But the thought about experimenting with my new body, while listening to my mother getting off was a bit too much. Reluctantly, I went back to flipping through the books, trying to distract myself from the growing desire inside my body. I yawned, but as my mouth stretched, the thought of a man forcing himself into it briefly flashed through my mind. It was so vivid that I wondered where the thought came from. “Gooood, Fuck me… Cum in my little pussy, Roy. Fill me up!” A picture of my mom being fucked popped into my head. It wasn’t even hard because she was an older version of this body and I have seen every inch of me. I tried to shake away the image but instead of going away my image replaced hers and I could almost feel how it felt to be filled by his cock. It felt so real.
The dream of last night meshed with my daydream of Roy. I angrily flipped through the book trying to dispel the desire to be taken. I was a guy, damn it! But my mom’s voice that rose and felt with the squeaking of her bed only fueled my desire. Roy must have been experienced because the noises went on for another half hour. Her last stifled yell echoed down the hall before she went quiet. I sighed, placed the book back and slipped off my dress. It was time for bed.
I laid down and thought about the dream I had. It had been so fragmented before that while I knew it was a sexual dream and that there were two men, I hadn’t remembered much else. I had tried to, but it was like I was like grabbing smoke. The more I tried the more illusory it felt.
Now, every thrust, their words, and even how they smelled of sweat and cheap beer came back. It felt so real. I was disgusted! But I was also horny. Even if they used me, I could still remember the pleasure I experienced. It was the most intense extasy I ever felt, and it was enticing. I kept thinking about how it felt even as I tried to tell myself I should forget it. That a man shouldn’t want it. But my mind didn’t listen, and I kept recalling how it felt and how the robotic voice told me, I had spells. Disgust and lust warred inside my head, along with the desire to cast more spells. I fell into an endless loop of questions of what I truly wanted and how I should feel. Until I finally fell asleep conflicted and unsatisfied.
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