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A high school student finds a grimoire that shows how to make magical disguises. |
Previously: "Faces All Around"  "Fuck me!" Caleb exclaims. "You got— You got Jenny's face in here? Jenny Ashton?" Keith answers by grinning like a dope. You ask, "How'd you fucking manage that?" "I talked her into it," Keith smugly answers. "I ran into her out in the parking lot after school, followed her over to her car, told her I had a thing I found online—" * * * * * His story draws barks of surprise and horror from you and Caleb, but it seems like it all worked out. Keith showed her mask, somehow tricked her into putting it on, and then skedaddled with it. He gets more and more smug as he relates the tale. "So," he concludes. "What you guys wanna do wi'tchit? Or maybe, 'cos I'm the one made it, I should decide." And when neither of you answer, he pulls the mask from Caleb's resisting fingers. "Y'know," he says as he examines it, "seems to me we'd ruin it if we mixed either of you fuckers' faces in it—" "Oh God," you moan. He glares at you. Then with a sneer he hops his butt onto a table, pushes the mask to his own face, and topples backward. Caleb leaps forward to catch him before he can bang his head, and lowers him gently onto the table top. "Nice going, Will," he snorts at you. "What?" "Now we're gonna have two masks fucked up with his face." "How is that my fault?" He just gives you a look. "Caleb!" "Alright, alright," he grumbles, "he was prob'ly going to do it anyway. Fuck." He glares down at Keith. "Well, it's gonna have Jenny's face in it too," you say. "It won't be all bad." "No, but it's gonna look enough like him that it's gonna be useless. They're all gonna look like him." He picks up the mask he hasn't quite finished polishing yet. "A car buffer, huh," he says. "We could make some more masks," you say. "If it doesn't take any more time than Keith said—" "I don't believe him," Caleb snorts. "But it's worth a shot." So while Keith lays unconscious on the big table, you and Caleb move to a smaller table under the windows, and use up the last of the materials to make three more masks. Keith is still asleep, his face hidden by the reemergent mask, when you and Caleb finish the basic casting. "You have a car buffer at your place?" Caleb asks. "Maybe." "Well, I'm pretty sure I don't." Caleb squints over at Keith. "Fuck," he mutters. "If I ask him to polish up one of these, he'll just want it for himself." "So how do we split the work up?" you ask, and pale when Caleb gives you a meaningful look. "No fucking way, man," you protest. "If I have to do all three of these—" "We'll give him one," Caleb says. "You do one, and when you're done you can loan the buffer to me. That way we each get one, at least." Then with that settled, you go over to wake Keith up. * * * * * "Oh my God," Keith gurgles as he studies himself. "I got boobs!" "I wouldn't be too proud of them," Caleb snaps. "Any guy who'd wanna fondle those'd have to be desperate." He glances at you as though to say, Am I right or am I right? He's mostly right, but no so right that you don't get a hot and confused feeling as you look at Keith. The sight of any girl, no matter how flat and skinny, is arousing when she's naked. After waking Keith, you all had crowded around to watch as Caleb sealed the mask up. Keith wanted to disrobe before putting on the mask, but Caleb forced it on him while still clothed—No one wants to see your snake, he honked—and you and Caleb had a good few minutes to critically study the face that replaced Keith's. It was not a pretty face and it was not a handsome face. It was like the face of transexual, and it was hard to tell which way the transition had been made. The shape was vaguely feminine—the bones were smaller and less pronounced, and a little rounder—but Keith's own features bulged through: slightly frog-like eyes under heavy eyebrows; a flat honker; and a large mouth. The hair was a dark brown—darker then Jenny's, lighter than Keith's—and only long enough to cover the ears and the back of the neck: again, the mask's seeming compromise between Keith's closely shorn buzz cut and Jenny's thick, shoulder-length mane. You and Caleb exchanged worried, skeptical glances over Keith's prone body. He looked better when he—or she; a quick pat down confirmed that he had female sex organs now—woke up, but only just. When animated, Keith's new face didn't look quite so dull and dead. On the other hand, the feminized Keith looked almost as dopey as the old one. The feminized Keith. You wince inwardly to reflect that that's what he looks like: As though he were unchanged, but had only let his hair grow out while taking a regimen of feminine hormones. But Keith acted delighted, especially after wriggling out of his shirt to expose his breasts—tiny things that dangled and pointed like baby bananas—and bush. He had hardly any meat on him, or curves. "That's prob'ly just because we copied Jenny," Keith says now, even as he hefts and fingers his breasts. "You know, she's flat as a board—" "She is not," you gallantly interrupt. "And what's this 'we' business?" Caleb demands. "You were the one that copied her." Keith only shrugs. "You're just jealous," he says, "'cos I'm the one wearing it." "You won't catch me putting it on," Caleb retorts. Then: "Stop that!" as Keith, his eyes rolled up quizzically, puts a hand to his bush and pushes an exploratory finger around inside it. "Fuck you," Keith says. His expression continues puzzled even as he worries more quickly at the spot between his legs. "You don't like watching, take it outside." "You can do that later!" "Yeah, when?" Keith clamps his tongue between his lips, and his brow furrows, as though he's trying to work out a complicated math problem in his head. "I can't do this at home." "You do that every night!" "Only in my imagination," Keith mutters. "And not to myself, to another girl." "Oh, come on, Will." Caleb grabs at you. "Unless you wanna stay and watch." "Cost ya five bucks if you do," Keith says. He's closed his eyes, and his hand is working with greater and greater force. So you flee the basement with Caleb. * * * * * You expect him to bitch some more about Keith, but he turns very businesslike instead. "Interesting," he says. "Did you notice the difference between the first mask we made and the second?" "They're both ugly like Keith," you say. "Not that. First one was Keith and Stephanie. Second was Keith and Jenny. But the first one had a dick, and the second one ... didn't." He looks at you. "One was male and the other female." You roll your eyes. "Yeah, so?" He looks disgusted. "So why was that?" he says. "They both used Keith, and both them used a girl. Why wasn't the sex the same?" "Ar-En-Gee?" you suggest after a moment's thought. "Maybe," he grunts. "But it's worth investigating." "Investigating?" you echo. "How?" "We've got some more masks in there," he says. "We try them out on more people." You feel your eyes nearly pop from your head. "Are you crazy?" you exclaim. "It was only by accident—because Keith was a dumbass—that we got away with—!" "Then I'll do it," he says. "And I bet Keith'll help me." So you give in with a sigh. * * * * * Caleb's plan is simple, though it fills you with dread. You and he and Keith will each take a mask up to the school, and just as Keith got Stephanie and Jenny alone, the three of you will each try to get someone else alone and get a mask onto them. "We're going to try to do this logically," Caleb tells you, in his most professorial manner. "Try to get a girl. After that, we'll put our own faces in, and see of all three of them turn out female. If you do get a guy, well—" He winces slightly. "Then you'll have to try to also get a girl, so we can see if it turns out to be a guy." You part for the evening a few hours later, with you and Keith taking masks (him one, you two) to polish up with a buffer. You are anxious and sweaty the whole next day, and you can tell that Caleb is too, though he tries to hide it. Only Keith seems confident, probably because he's done this twice before and gotten away with it. "Don't be such a bundle of nerves, dude, I can help you out if you want," he assures you. Don't you be so fucking cocky, you want to retort. By the time the final bell rings, you've got the shakes, much to Caleb's disgust. "You're not gonna be worth anything," he says, "if you go to pieces." "I can do it." "Go slap some cold water on your face." "Fuck you. You know it's only gonna take one of us to fuck things up," you add in an undertone. "And it's gonna be you if you don't— Fine, you can come with me. We'll help each other out." He turns away with a snort. Fucker, you think. I can do it myself. But can you? Maybe you should go work with Keith. Or go looking for Jenny. You're sure you can get Jenny alone. Then you spot Stephanie, pushing her way through the crowd, and it occurs to you: Wouldn't it be a kick if I got a copy of Stephanie too, the way Keith did? Next: "Three Perfect Scores" |
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