This choice: She wished she didn't need to wear heels that hurt her ankles and feet. • Go Back...Chapter #3She wished she didn't need to wear heels. by: Mr. George   As she snatched up the cute bottle, she wobbled almost going over on one ankle. Steadying herself against the wall, she stood back on both feet, as she slipped the shoe back on.
"Damned heels... Guys don't wear them... I just wish... I just wish..." she muttered the last sentiment without completing the thought. As she'd adjusted her shoes, she'd fallen a little behind her friends. There was a flash of white light, that Candy blinked aside, it felt targetted personally.
Straightening up, and blinking the dazzle from her eyes. She squinted, something looked different, her friends slightly smaller or farther away. It was then that the flood of oddness washed over her. Candy knew it wasn't her friends that were wrong, but whatever had changed was more personal.
Clearing her throat, the sound was deeper and more masculine. Rubbing her hand at her throat, she found a significant Adam's apple, then quickly a flatter.... completely flat chest beneath a shirt. Not as smooth or silky as a blouse, hands drifting down Candy found she was wearing pants. Worse she was clearly filling them, rather than slinky slacks. These were tailored for a man... and they fit.
Mind racing and blood pounding, voice stolen. Candy was mortified to find she was stiffening, that alien... thing... was getting bigger, and more awkward, becoming harder to ignore.
"Carl Igersen. Earth to Carl..." It was Barbara calling for him... and it was assuredly him, to catch up.
The questions died in his throat, already answered by Barbara call. He couldn't ask if she remembered Candy... she clearly didn't. That tone wasn't joking or confused, the question entirely sincere. She saw him as Carl, and she expected to see Carl.
"I hope you're not hanging back to admire our asses..." Bobby Petersen asked. Taking that moment to smooth out imaginary wrinkles from her skirt.
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Bobby Petersen
"N...No... of course not." Carl answered too quickly, in a stammering tone. Worse still he felt himself respond, surely Bobby could see his excitement spoiling the line of his pants.
"It's fine to look, Carl." Barbara assured her, "Just no touching without permission." The tone a mix of calming and patronising, Carl flushed at the reminder.
Trying to see if Bobby was just an exception, she took a lingering look at Barbara's ass. Hoping to just admire it, appreciate as another woman.
"Just try not to stare... It's creepy." Barbara added.
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Barbara Jenkins
"Should I be feeling left out?" Charlene asked, turning to face Carl, and thrust her chest out.
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Charlene Hendricks
Carl was too afraid of stuttering or stammering that he nodded and caught up with his friends in a couple of paces.  indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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