Chapter 1: CHAPTER ONE: (18+) What’s an Upskirt Between Friends?

The camera looked like a junker. It was one of those old vintage cameras that photography snobs used to shoot black and white photos. But Kyle's phone had a terrible camera, and his other SLR camera had a broken lens, so he picked it up to take a look. It seemed to be in working order, so he aimed the camera at his best friend, Samira--at his favorite part of her anatomy, namely her shapely ass.

"Pose for me, baby!" yelled Kyle, as he got ready to snap a picture.

Samira laughed and turned around before bending over to give him an eye-level view of her perfect bottom. Her tight little red panties were barely visible beneath her skirt. She raised herself on tiptoe to lift her ass higher, which made her plump breasts jiggle invitingly.

"Oh my god, Samira. You're such a slut. And you claim to be saving yourself for marriage?" snorted Kyle. He took a photo, then held the camera at chest level to get an even better, lower shot.

"There's no contradiction. I like my body and I like people seeing it. I'm just not ready to have sex with anyone yet," said Samira as she straightened and smoothed her black skirt down again. "I don't want to get pregnant or anything."

"You can't even tell when a guy's trying to fuck you! For instance: what about me. Do I want to get in your pants?" Kyle gave her his best leer.

She wasn't fooled. "We've been friends since we were six. I know you perfectly well, Kyle Fanchard. Your intentions are honorable."

"Well then why won't you let me kiss you?" asked Kyle, giving her cheek a quick peck.

Samira giggled. "Because if there's ever going to be something between us, it'll only happen after we both graduate from college."

"And if I'm willing to marry into that psycho family of yours, you mean." said Kyle. He snapped a few pictures of the old album covers in the vintage store they were browsing in. The camera took great photographs in low light situations too, though the quality didn't come close to digital.

"Hey! That is rude! My parents aren't psychos!" protested Samira.

"Sure they're not. They just want to control every aspect of your life and future." Kyle dug in his wallet. He had just enough to buy the camera--good thing, considering he'd been using up the old film inside of it.

"They love me," argued Samira. "They just worry about me being out in the world without any protection."

"Protection against what? Oh right: the predatory men you're teasing by jiggling your assets at them and flashing your underwear."

Samira blushed. "Don't be silly, Kyle. If I just wanted to tease guys, I wouldn't need to go through this elaborate process of changing my clothes whenever I leave home."

"Elaborate process? Is that what you call flirting with boys?" asked Kyle. "That's pretty much exactly what I see when I look at you: a flirt."

She looked angry now. "I'm expressing myself," she said, "As best I can given my family situation. And I thought you'd be supportive."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," said Kyle. "Peace. I didn't mean it. Do you want to come over and help me develop this film? I'm curious what it's like."

Samira smiled. "Okay."

***

Kyle and Samira arrived at his house ten minutes later. He opened his door and invited Samira inside, but she stopped him before he could shut the door behind them.

"Wait," she whispered. "Let's take off our shoes first."

He followed her suggestion, and soon they were standing barefoot on his carpet, facing each other across his living room floor. "Your mom has enough to do," she said. "And she's put up with both of us tracking mud all over before we were grown. I don't want to get her carpet dirty. All right, to the darkroom!"

Kyle's darkroom was in a closet near the kitchen. His mother never went in there because she hated the smell. She always claimed it smelled like rotten eggs, though Kyle didn't see what the fuss was about. There was a single window high up on one wall where sunlight came down in strips between the curtains, and he kept having to refasten the tape. They stepped inside and Kyle switched the light to red.

"What if this is a cursed camera? You know, like the cursed pen that illustration major supposedly got ahold of last year. Maybe something horrible will happen when I develop this ancient film!" Kyle smirked. They'd both been in grade school when magic flooded into the world through new portals, ripping holes in reality and allowing all manner of demons, fae, and other visitors through. But he'd never quite gotten used to the idea, or grown out of making jokes about it.

Samira punched him in the shoulder. "Curses aren't funny. There are curse-bearers out there who have to put up with serious problems, on top of jokes like yours, and prejudice..." She trailed off, frowning.

"Okay, okay. I know how you feel about this stuff. Instead, let me show you this beauty I got of your ass... and more, quite probably, from behind." He started the process of printing from the negatives. The developing tank bubbled away while the prints dried. Kyle held up the first one up for Samira to examine. It was her ass, all right, in her tight black skirt, riding up on her thighs and exposing her red panties, complete with the shape of her pussy lips underneath.

"It looks good," said Samira, admiring the picture carefully. "Holy shit... Okay, I guess I can see why you called me a slut. But this is kind of hot."

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"Yeah," said Kyle, and then caught himself as the room seemed to spin beneath him. His hips popped. "Ouch!"

Samira was bent over too, as if in pain. "Kyle... what's going on!?" Hearing her frantic voice made him panic more. His midsection felt strange, a queasy sensation with a rippling of flesh. He tried to stand up straight, but his knees buckled instead. He fell forward onto the floor beside Samira, unable to control his movements, or even speak coherently.

Samira gasped in alarm. "Oh my god... no! That picture, you could see my pussy!" She clutched herself between her legs. A moment later, she screamed in agony, arching her back as if she were being stabbed repeatedly by invisible knives.

Kyle couldn't move. He lay helpless on the floor, staring wide-eyed at Samira's contorting body. "What... what does that mean? Why is this--" He felt his body rise, as if being lifted up on a pillow. His ass was pressing into the floor, feeling somehow different than usual, larger.

Samira was gasping for breath. "Kyle... I'm sorry! I should have warned you. Ummm... ouch! Oh God, Kyle--my family placed a curse on me." She remembered the words of the sorcerer: Nine times she is warded, let no man touch. Let no man see her gates, lest he be unmanned. Let no man gaze upon her portal, lest it close and his manhood be taken.

Kyle writhed on the floor. Then the sensation changed again. The pressure grew deeper into his rear end, and then his balls suddenly felt heavy as he was filled with a sense of fullness and pressure deep within his groin area. Then it all shifted. His cock stood at attention, and he felt it rubbing painfully along his inner thigh as he continued to experience a growing ache deep in his testicles. Suddenly the feeling changed, and his cock was slurping away, vanishing and shrinking. When it finished disappearing, he was left with nothing more than a throbbing feeling moored in the front of pelvis, surrounded by wet heat that was now dripping down his inner thighs.

"Kyle..." cried Samira, her face twisted in anguish. "Something's coming out of me!" He looked in fasincation and saw that a thick cock was now poking out from one of her panty leg holes, extending below the hem of her skirt. It looked familiar... it was his cock!

"We're... we're changing into each other?!" he cried in anguished confusion.

Samira's expression hardened into determination. She crawled toward him and grabbed his head with her hands. "Listen to me," she said urgently, speaking slowly as if to a child or animal, "you must listen closely. We're going to change into each other completely."

"But why?" asked Kyle fearfully.

"It's the curse. I'm sorry, Kyle, I never meant for you to be caught in it. We have to save ourselves! This is our only chance." She squeezed his neck tightly with her fingers and began to shake him roughly. "If we don't do this, it could last forever!"

Kyle was confused but terrified. "I don't understand. Do what? How can I possibly turn into you, what am I going to do with a pussy, what about my--"

Samira slapped him across the face with surprising strength. "Listen!" she demanded. "I'll explain everything later, but we have to hurry! Get your clothes off!"

Kyle stared blankly ahead, unable to think clearly. Samira released him and stood up straight before turning her attention to her clothes. She pulled them off, revealing her naked body for the first time since they'd grown past puberty. Her breasts were large, perfectly round, and very firm looking, with long pink nipples that pointed outward like little darts. She had a thin waist that disappeared into her round bubble ass, but that ass was rapidly flattening out, gaining muscle, and looking more and more like his own. Her skin tone was darker than his, and her ribs and waist were defined and slender like a dancer's, making her look even more feminine and beautiful than he had originally thought. Beneath that waist bobbed a penis, and he could see it swelling and hardening, stretching to a familiar length that he'd seen from a different angle every time he jerked off.

"Ohhhh god," moaned Kyle, realizing what was happening to him. His back was cracking, arching as his waist curved inwards, pressing his organs into a new configuration and pushing his ass out. He reached down into his boxers, to touch the place his stiff shaft used to be, and realized that in its place was a soft pair of lips. They were smooth and warm, like a pair of tongues. He explored the area with his fingers, testing his new genitals: small and delicate folds, covered with tiny black curly hairs. He suddenly felt weak as his arms and legs began to lose their muscle, and his legs began to go numb. "I... I can't... I can't move..." he gasped. There was hair falling into his eyes: Samria's dark tresses.

Samira was growing, her breasts flattening against her masculine chest. She was looking more and more like him every second. Kyle felt his own body continuing to change, becoming more feminine and curvaceous. His legs were now Samira's slender shape, and his feet were beginning to shrink to the size of a girl's. He felt himself tightening and softening at the same time, growing smaller as Samira expanded further--beyond the point where he wouldn't be able to reach the top of her head anymore without straining himself.

She sat down beside him and placed a hand gently upon his shoulder, stroking him lovingly as she spoke softly to him in soothing tones. "You're doing great," she assured him. "Now we can talk. You should call me Sam for now. It'll work better that way."

Kyle nodded numbly as Sam continued to stroke his arm tenderly. "Then who... who am I?" His voice was higher, lilting. His former pale skin tone was disappearing, darkening into Samira's caramel color. Curls of hair brushed his shoulders, and his hands shrinking, cracking. He touched his nose; it was dwindling into a button-like cute turn above his mouth, while his cheeks rounded out into a soft feminine curve.

Sam's voice was deep, the voice Kyle used to have. "You're Kylie. Is that all right with you... Kylie?"

"Yes," he said simply. He touched his chin with his fingertips and found that it was now feminine, too. His jaw was softer, with a gentle angle. He touched his own face and found dimples on his cheek. He looked at Samira--Sam--and saw how similar she looked to his old self, except for her eyes which were still brown rather than blue.

"I'm Kylie," she said in a new, cute voice. "Oh my god, Sam! My chest...." It ached, and she realized she was growing Samira's breasts. She clasped her hands to her nipples as they grew harder and bigger, filling out her shirt. They weren't as big as Samira's had been, not yet; still a nice fit that made her look sexy but not overwhelming. Beneath her nipples, the flesh of her pectorals kept rippling and expanding, fililing out into a pair of perky mounds of fat that jiggled when she moved her arms around. They were soft and supple, with just enough give in them that she could feel her breath moving through them whenever she breathed deeply.

"God, this is fucking hot," said the new girl. "Sam... what's happening... why did this happen?"

Sam now looked just like Kyle used to, but was somehow more in command, more masculine. She could smell his musk and it was starting to do funny things to her, a twinge between her legs, a slippery feeling.

"My family set a curse, with the help of a sorcerer," explained Sam in a voice that sounded just like Kyle's. "It triggers if a man sees me naked, supposedly to make it impossible for someone to violate me. But this is the result of the curse's wording. Crazy, right?"

Kylie nodded, trying to understand what was happening to her. "I feel so... so sensitive. I didn't know you felt like this, Sam. Is it always so... like I need.... something?"

"Not exactly. That's also a side-effect of the curse. Don't worry," said Sam reassuringly. "This happened... once before. And there's a way to reverse it." He suddenly stiffened, a suprised expression crossing his Kyle-like features. "Oh shit... hold on, Kylie! Here comes the second wave."

They were still changing! "Oh God," moaned Kylie. "What next?!"

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