This choice: "Everything's changed... Everything!" Aileen whines. • Go Back...Chapter #4"Everything's changed... Everything!" by: Mr. George   You keep your words brief, the soft sound of your voice hard to take. Patting your door possessively, you nod as Aileen asks, "John?"
"Well, Jane now..." you the girls walk past you into your room. Anger is clear on Aileen's face, you hide your bitter amusement at the idea of her as a fiery Red head. Stephanie walks with a proud strut past you. It's Jack face that makes you pause. She looks on the verge of a nervous break-down, her gorgeous body, is the most sexual of the four of you. The most purely sexual creature you've seen in the flesh. You want to block her access with an outstretched arm, to get her name before she joins you in the room.
"Everything's changed! Everything!" Aileen's protest takes all the fire from her.
Her eyes are wide with horror, as she takes in her own body. The breasts that put even your to shame, and the full rump draws your eyes as she sashays past. Those wide hips, that tiny so mobile waist forcing her to walk that way. With a glance up and down the corridor, you see it's still empty. The cries of distress bringing no-one rushing to your rescue, no-one to investigate. The world feels a little harder, a little colder, worryingly indifferent to your fate.
The door clicks shut behind you, the final few inches aided by the press of your ass. Aileen has her back to you, to the room as a whole. She's incapable of looking at her three best friends, as if the view from the window allows her to imagine things are as they were before you all went to bed.
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Her shoulders shake with soft sobbing, and you find your attention drawn to her plump, pert but so wonderfully overstuffed rear.
You leave her to gather her thoughts, not wanting her to be forced to accept things faster than she can handle. Certainly, you couldn't handle it if she cried on your shoulder.
- - - - -
Stephanie paces back and forth, agitation in her stiff steps. With a scowl, as if facing down a demon, she pauses. With an accusing glance, the glares at you, accusing you of being part of a conspiracy against her.
But her fury falters, and fails. She glowers at the mirror, the full-length mirror giving her no respite from her own body, from the vacuous expression of bimbo-like naivety. She'll never convince anyone of her intelligence. Her clothes as girly and clearly distressing her, she too sits down. As her suspenders shift jerkily over her thighs, and the barely there panties make her hands twitch fighting the desire to rip away the humiliating garments. Her whole being pleading for understanding, for mercy.
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You give her a shrug and a sympathetic smile, you don't even have an explanation to comfort her.
- - - - -
Jack kneels awkwardly on your bed. Traumatised by her body. You stroke her arm, to comfort her, but she flinches from your touch.
"What's your name.... now?"
You keep your voice as friendly as you can manage, an uncertain, hopefully encouraging smile on your face. The silence draws on.
"I'm Jane. That's Aileen." As you point to the now stiff back of the red-head. "That's Stephanie." The blonde bimbo offers her own sympathetic smile to yours.
"Twacie."
You have to tighten your expression, as she lisps out her name.
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Clearly she found her voice, her lisp on her own and was afraid to share her speech impediment. As boys you were all quite brash, and rough with your humour, but with your new bodies you seem to have picked up new mannerisms, new instincts.
"Well... I never expected this..." you say to break the ice. Your accompanying shrug making your bust bounce in the bikini top. No-one answers, so you continue.
The awkwardness of your words painful to speak, and worse for your friends to hear.
"This is .... It's my fantasy woman's body..." From the evasive looks, at the suddenly fascinating floor, or painting you guess this is true for them, too.  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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