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From: Fixer@servtech.com (Mike Allegretto)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.tg
Subject: TG repost Class Project.. and its not a binary!
Date: Mon, 20 May 1996 17:39:43 GMT
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bHi Mike,

Yep, I'm the one who writes Class Project. I started posting it from
my aol
account then there were problems with aol and Usenet so I opened a
compuserve
account just to have better access. Then compuserve chopped off all
the adult
usenet groups so I cancelled my membership and I'm back posting from
aol now.
The chapters I'm sending you of Class Project are really just the
beginning
of a much much longer story that is a work in progress (it's not
finished --
I envision it as a mini-novel, perhaps a bit more than 400k based on
the
notes I've got for the plot and character development) In the near
future I
hope to upload chapter 8, but first I have to get back into the
routine that
got disrupted by the holidays.

Here's the first 7 chapters as posted to the net. Hope you like it.

I'm also going to send you in a separate email the other TG story I
posted to
the net -- Team Spirit. That's a bit more of a nonconsensual story
with sort
of a revenge theme.

Keep up the writing!

Janice

=====================================
Subject: New TG, New Author : The Class Project
From: jandreams@aol.com (Jan Dreams)
Date: 3 Oct 1995 22:48:54 -0400
Message-ID: <44ssmm$gbu@newsbf02.news.aol.com>

Hi everyone, 

This is my first attempt at a tg story, but I'm a fan of the 'genre'.
The
first chapter here sets the stage.  Next time we'll get to the 'good'
parts - I promise!  J  Hopefully the next installment will be within a
couple weeks, although it depends on how strongly the inspiration
pulls
me.  Comments are welcome, flames ignored.

Anyway, you can insert the disclaimer of your choice here.  This is a
work
of _fiction_ and if you can't deal with that then get a life.
Permission
granted to distribute electronically, but please don't try to make
money
off my effort -- write your own.

Enjoy!

Class Project
by Janice Dreamer

Chapter 1

"Okay, everyone pair up into teams.  Use the remaining time to talk
among
yourselves and start deciding what your project will be.  Remember,
you
have until Monday to get back to me with your project's title but I
need
you to sign the sheet as you leave today so I have a list of all the
teams."  Professor Krawlaski brandished a sign-up sheet at his
Anthropology 361 class.  His last comment was partially drowned out by
the
buzz of conversation as the dozen students began sorting themselves
out
into pairs.

Cathy cursed under her breath when the Professor mentioned a "team"
project. It was only the first day of the semester and she didn't know
any
of her classmates yet.  But it didn't take a genius to see that she
was
obviously the only Anthro major in the class, all the others had most
likely signed up to satisfy their prurient interest in the course
title: A
Comparison of Sexual roles in Myth, Legend and Religious Tradition.
She
knew she'd probably have to do the work of two people for this
project. 
But it couldn't be helped -- the project was 60% of the grade for the
class and she'd be damned if she'd ruin her perfect 4.0 GPA because
some
lame partner would rather party than put in work on their "joint"
project.
So she held back, trying to size up by looks alone who'd be a good
partner.  Predictably, the guy she vaguely recognized as some jock on
the
football team approached the pretty little thing with the big tits;
yeah
they'd be researching sexual roles all right.  And the frat boy seemed
instinctively drawn to the sorority queen; Beemer and Mercedes -- what
a
natural pair -- their project would involve little more than rewriting
and
editing some paper dredged out of fraternity archives.   The remaining
choices of prospective partners seemed just as dismal so she merely
watched with a feeling of resignation as the rest of the class sorted
themselves out, until finally her decision was made by default.

One guy remained unpaired.  He was very big and awkward looking,
visibly
nervous, sweating, eyes downcast, his brown hair plastered to his
forehead
in damp strings.  Occasionally he cast a furtive glance around the
room to
see if anyone might be showing the slightest interest in teaming up
with
him. Cathy sighed, well it could be worse -- he looked like a real
dweeb,
totally into academics, so maybe he'd be _some_ help with the research
on
the project.  

Bob looked around the room uncomfortably.  He always hated when they
did
this -- made everyone pick partners.  It brought back memories of
childhood games when he'd been the last picked, enduring the
embarrassment
of listening to arguments over who'd get 'stuck' with him.  He'd
turned
inward to books and ideas and food.  Already overweight and clumsy, he
spent more and more time locked in his room with a book and a bag of
chips
or a box of cookies.  It only got worse in high school when everyone
else
started dating.  That only emphasized his isolation.  He got great
grades
but he had almost no sense of how to interact socially.  The few
painful
times he'd managed to get up enough courage to ask a girl out had
ended in
rejection.  Now, here he was in college and nothing had changed -
totally
paralyzed by fear of rejection over asking someone to be his partner
for a
stupid term paper. 

"Hi, I'm Cathy Anderson.  Looks like we're a team." 

Bob looked up, slightly startled to see a woman standing in front of
him
with her hand extended in greeting. She was tall for a woman, about
5'10".
 Her face was rather plain and she seemed to project a total disregard
for
femininity, coarse black hair cut severely short, bushy untended
eyebrows,
a total lack of jewelry, and baggy dark colored clothing. Her
expression
seemed detached, coolly superior, as if she were indulgently watching
the
rest of the world make fools of themselves. Her demeanor reminded him
of
Morticia Addams - an impression she seemed to cultivate.

Bob awkwardly rose from his seat and smiled at her nervously.  He
wiped
his palm on the thigh of his jeans and took her hand.  "Uh... hi.  I'm
Bob... uh...Wilson.  I... um... guess we're partners?"

Standing, Cathy realized how big he was.  At least 6'4" tall, and over
300
lbs. But he carried himself hunched over as though trying to avoid
notice.
 His face wasn't bad looking - if he lost some weight he'd be very
attractive, in a Conan the barbarian kind of way. But he looked like
he
needed self confidence even more than a diet. His attitude just
screamed
"I'm not wortheeee!"

The bell signaling the end of class rang just then and everyone
started
the mad rush for the door.

"So. I got a class. When can we meet?" she slung her backpack over her
shoulder and looked at him expectantly.

"Um... how about one?"

"Works for me. At the Mickey-D's on the corner." She turned and walked
out
the door.

He pulled out a crumpled bandanna and wiped the sweat from his brow as
he
watched her leave.

*****

Cathy glanced around the crowded McDonald's, feeling ashamed of
herself
for being relieved that none of her friends were here to see her with
Bob.
She stared in horrified fascination at the sheer mass of food he'd
ordered
and found she'd lost her appetite. Her chicken nuggets remained
untouched
as she watched Bob methodically devour his burgers, all the while
humming
unconsciously to himself. 

Finally she tore her attention away from Bob's feeding frenzy, and
said
"Okay, let's get started. What ideas do you have for a topic?"

"I haven't got a clue.  I've never taken any Anthropology courses
before."

"So why exactly _did_ you sign up for this course?" Cathy asked,
irritated.

He slowly swallowed a bite from his third quarterpounder before
answering.
When he finally spoke he sounded defensive. "I'm a computer sciences
major.  The department requires us to take a certain number of
non-technical electives - probably they think we won't be geeks if we
take
a few credits of humanities." 

Cathy felt guilty for being so judgmental and was sorry she'd snapped
at
him. He was the stereotypical social outcast. So down on himself and
anxious to be accepted. She had underestimated just how painfully shy
he
was; it wasn't her intention to hurt his feelings with her flippant
remark.

He paused for a moment, watching Cathy's reaction.  When she didn't
laugh,
but actually appeared to sympathize, he seemed to reach a decision. 
Blushing crimson, he blurted out in a rush, "I guess I...uh... also
sort of
hoped an Anthropology course or two might help me figure out how to
get
along with people better... you know, to not be such a _total_ geek."

She grinned at his attempt to lighten things up.  "But then shouldn't
you
have signed up for one of the survey courses, something on social
interaction?  Instead of an advanced course on religious beliefs in
primitive society?"

"No, that stuff is so trite.  Pop psycho-babble I've heard before. But
I'm
interested in lots of things besides computers.  I remember reading
Bulfinch's Mythology and thinking how cool all those stories were.
Gods
and Goddesses and Demons and Angels. I guess I wanted to find out more
about all that."

"Well, anyway, what topic do _you_ think we should we should do?" Bob
asked.

"Well, Anthropology is my major, but my real area of interest is the
occult.  There's just too many claims of supernatural occurrences
throughout history.  Are _all_  those reports and myths and legends
false?
 Science doesn't explain everything in the universe - at least not
yet. 
It's my theory that at least some of the legends of the occult are
based
on fact, and by applying the scientific method to research on
primitive
belief systems we can discover things we never dreamed possible."

"Then why don't we do our project on something like that? Maybe on
demonology?  You know, summoning demons and stuff like that? It sounds
like a cool topic." Bob suggested.

"Okay, sounds like an original project. I've got some old references
on
sorcery and alchemy, that sort of thing. We could do an analysis of
the
methodology for summoning demons. I can drop some reference material
off
for you to get familiar with over the weekend and we can get together
Sunday to write up an outline," Cathy said.

*****

Bob muzzily stared at the page and tried to read it for the eighth
time. 
It was no use.  He just couldn't get into this mumbo-jumbo
pseudo-theological stuff with all the cautions and dire warnings. He
had
enjoyed reading the myths of the Greek gods as fiction but this stuff
Cathy'd given him to read made it all seem so serious, except there
was no
_logic_ to it. The diagrams were interesting enough with their
mathematical precision, exacting placements of lodestones and iron and
copper tracings to form geometric shapes; but the 'spells' just seemed
like so many nonsense syllables.  Why would the guy who originally
wrote
this be so exact about one thing and then go off into gobbledygook?
He
tried pronouncing the incantation aloud.  The author had painstakingly
detailed a phonetic rendering of the words, so their exact
pronunciation
must have been important to him.

He felt silly as he was attempting to speak the meaningless sounds but
he
noticed a distinct pattern and rhythm to the words.  The sounds didn't
seem like a language, but the singsong rhythm reminded him of a
hypnotist
he'd once seen at a stage show. Suddenly he had an inspiration.  What
if
the "spell" was intended more to induce a certain mental state, like a
hypnotic trance or a Buddhist monk's meditation chant, rather than
actually convey meaning? Then the logic of the instructions for
precise
phonetic pronunciation made sense to him. Why, he could even
mathematically model the sound pattern and input it into the language
recognition/cryptography program he was working on as part of his
senior
thesis. Then he and Cathy could do a high-tech reenactment of a demon
summoning, complete with video recording to show the Professor.  That
would certainly be a new slant on demonology.  At the very least it
would
make a unique class project. And it sounded like a lot of fun.

*****

"So look, it's worth a try isn't it?" Bob was explaining his idea to
Cathy
over a cup of coffee Sunday afternoon.

"How typical of a computer science major. You want to take an ancient
and
solemn ritual and digitize it.  Turn it into some kind of computer
game!"
she said, unconvinced.

"Isn't that what the course is all about?  Scientific analysis of
primitive belief systems?  If we do a halfway decent write up we're
sure
to ace the project," Bob dangled the one lure he knew would entice the
grade greedy girl.

"Well... a video recording of a summoning ceremony would impress
Krawlaski,
I guess. And it would be valuable to see if modern science can make
sense
of a ritual like the one in the Grimoire. Okay, let's do it."

"Okay!  Now let's work out the details.  We can do it at my place --
I've
got a big living room - and my roommates spend all their free time
over at
the University computer center.  You supply the expertise on all the
rituals and I'll supply the computer and technical expertise."  

They talked for over an hour until both were satisfied with the idea
and
their various parts in it. Then they wrote up their outline for
submission
in class on Monday.

*****

The Tuesday before Thanksgiving Cathy and Bob spent all day setting
up. 
Bob's roommates had already left for the extended holiday and they had
the
apartment to themselves for the next five days. It was ten minutes
before
the stroke of midnight and they had just finished making a final check
of
all their preparations.  Bob's living room was a mess with all the
furniture pushed back to form a clear area in the center with wires
and
cables strewn everywhere.  Wires were laid out on the hardwood floor
and
stapled down to form three precisely measured pentagrams arranged in
an
equilateral triangle.  Each pentagram had little LED lights at each of
the
five points of the star design.  All the wires ran to an improvised
junction box which was in turn connected to a serial computer cable
plugged into the com port of Bob's computer.  The computer itself sat
inside one pentagram.  On the monitor was a graphic of a digital
clock,
ticking down the seconds to midnight.

"Well, it's all set.  The program'll start automatically at midnight,
all
we have to do is wait.  Let's get a beer before we have to get into
position, Cathy.  You look tense and it might relax you."  Bob said
casually. He'd grown comfortable around her over the past weeks as
they
worked closely together on the project. She was one of the very few
women
he'd known who he wasn't afraid of, and considered a friend.

"This may sound weird, but I think we should be very careful here,"
Cathy
said almost in a whisper.  "You know all the old stories about how
demons
will try to trick you just for spite."

"Oh come on, Cathy!" Bob sighed in exasperation.  He still wondered
why an
otherwise intelligent girl took all that mumbo-jumbo so seriously.
"This
is an experiment, nothing more.  At most we might see some interesting
natural phenomenon brought on by the magnetic fields in the pentagram
patterns and maybe enhanced by a meditation trance from listening to
the
'spell'.  Everything will be under control of the program.  We know a
lot
more than the people who wrote that 'spell'.  We know how the laws of
physics work and we know how to control them, so there's no reason to
worry about demons and all that."

"Well, it can't hurt to be careful anyway.  So I think I'll pass on
the
beer."  As if he's going to listen anyway, but at least I tried to
warn
him. God when he goes off on his scientist trip he sure can be
pigheaded,
Cathy thought.  Damn shame he couldn't be that confident in the rest
of
his life. She had grown to like him and wished she could get him to
open
up more and maybe others would see him as more than a big dweeb. 

"Suit yourself."  Bob wandered over to the kitchen alcove and got
himself
a beer from the fridge.  He flopped down in a chair and sipped it
moodily
as the countdown crawled by.  Finally the screen's graphic changed to
a
red flashing pattern and the speakers chimed.

"Thirty seconds until program initiation, please assume your
positions"
the computer's artificial voice said.

Bob and Cathy got up and stood in the center of the two unoccupied
pentagrams.  They fidgeted nervously then stood still, staring at the
monitor in anticipation as the final seconds ticked off.

Just as the timer hit 11:59:59 all fifteen of the LED's at the points
of
the three pentagrams lit up.  Then the screen went blank.  From the
computer's speaker came rhythmic sounds which rose and fell, becoming
guttural one moment then changing to a hauntingly melodic pattern.
The
sounds were being created by a fractal generating routine which used
the
demon summoning incantation as its kernel.  There was no recognizable
language but the sounds had a strangely hypnotic effect and both Bob
and
Cathy felt themselves drifting along while the computer generated
"spell"
echoed in their minds.  Meanwhile the screen had come to life in a
constantly changing pattern of swirling colors which added to the
sense of
detachment they were feeling as a result of the incantation - an
embellishment Bob had made on the original instructions for the spell
caster to picture a repetitive series of geometric shapes in his mind.

Bob and Cathy were both swaying slightly in time to the rhythm of the
"spell".  Their eyes were riveted to the computer screen as the
patterns
flashed and faded and metamorphosed constantly.  Slowly the tempo
increased and the sounds seemed to assume an air of supplication,
almost
pleading.  Imperceptibly the lights in the apartment seemed to dim,
until
only the light from the computer and the small LED's at the starpoints
of
the pentagrams remained.  With a tiny remaining rational portion of
his
mind Bob noticed the fading light and dismissed it as most likely a
result
of his concentration on the computer program.

After an indeterminate time, the chanting from the computer built to a
fever pitch and died abruptly with a final crescendo of sound.  At the
same time the screen went black and the room was bathed in near total
darkness with just the tiny red light from the LED's creating a weird
shadowy universe of indistinct menacing shapes.

"Wow.  Too weird."  Bob felt a cold draft run up his spine and he
shook
himself as if waking from a dream.  "Must have blown a fuse.  I'll
check
the circuit breakers."

"Stop!!"  Cathy nearly screamed before he could take a step.  She
continued in a voice trembling with both terror and unbelieving awe,
"Don't move a muscle or you're doomed."

"Huh?  What're you talking about?"

"Look where the computer was!  And whatever you do, don't leave your
pentagram!"

Bob turned back to peer through the gloom at the center of the other
pentagram.  His eyes had begun to adjust to the darkness and he made
out a
swirling red tinged figure where his computer had been only seconds
before.  It was in constant flux like a swirling gas, yet appeared to
be
solid.  It had the general outline of a person, but there was nothing
human about it.

"What the hell is that?" Bob blurted.

"You should know, human, you summoned me here." said a voice dripping
with
disdain from the strange apparition.

"Holy shit!  It worked!  I don't believe it!"  Bob felt his heart
hammering in his chest.

"Believe it.  You called, I'm here." the weird creature said.

"Is it... Are you... really..." Bob was having trouble accepting what
his
senses were telling him.

"Am I really... what?  Humans are so predictable.  They always ask.  I
am
what your ancestors called a demon. You've trapped me here with your
little toys and now you get a wishes fulfilled so I can go free."

"A wish?  We can wish for anything?" Bob remembered Cathy's caution
about
how demons were tricksters. "And what do we have to give up in
exchange?" 

"No you can't wish for _anything_ you stupid creature.  My powers are
limited. I can't affect anyone or anything except what has summoned me
and
fed me. So I can't make you rich and I can't make another love you.
But I
can alter your own physical bodies - quite a lot, in fact. In the past
there has never been sufficient energy remaining from a summoning to
do
more than restore youth and health to those who summoned me, but your
mechanical devices seem to have provided a surfeit of power. In other
words I can give you the body you have always desired. And to answer
your
other question, you don't have to give anything in exchange.  No
souls, no
damnation.  Nothing."

"But then why do you grant wishes, what's in it for you?  And why
should
we trust you?" Bob asked, immediately suspicious.

"Let's just say that my kind exists on the chaos generated by human
emotions, among other things.  Most of the time you never realize
we're
around.  But the energy pattern you created tonight charged my being
with
incredibly more energy than normal - you might say I'm bloated. It
raised
my energy level to the point where my 'body' has manifested itself in
a
state which you can perceive with your physical senses. But this high
energy level is awkward for me and is capable of being manipulated and
constrained by the same mental-electromagnetic field which raised me
to
this current level of energy. To make an analogy - you have force fed
me
so much that my belly has swollen to an enormous size, and now I can't
move from your pentagram unless I digest this energy and excrete it.
Fulfilling a wish will require expending some of the energy I have
consumed, and thus free me to go about my life. And, before you ask,
your
free will acceptance of the energy is the only way to trigger my
release.
Once I have accomplished that, my balance is restored and the force
holding me here is nullified, and I can go back to grazing on your
emotions.  Think of me as a kind of mental symbiont."

"You mean you _can't_ leave until you fulfill a wish?" Cathy asked.

"No. Didn't you listen? I have all this excess energy anchoring me
here.
The only way I can discharge it is through your _voluntary_ acceptance
of
it. A wish, two wishes in fact, since each of you must accept the
discharge for symmetry. Otherwise I'm stuck here until my energy level
dwindles -- which could take years -- or there is a disruption in the
magnetic field holding me, such as a power failure or someone crossing
one
of the lines in the pattern."

"Bob, we've got to do this - there's no way we can wait him out in
these
pentagrams.  But be _very_ careful what you wish for." Cathy
cautioned.

It made a weird kind of sense, Bob had to admit.  "Okay.  What do we
have
to do to get this over with then?" he asked the demon.

"Just close your eyes and picture in your head the kind of body you've
always wanted and I'll take care of the rest.  You'll have to
concentrate
to get exactly what you wish for."

Bob still wasn't sure he should trust this creature but the thought of
being able to change his fat unattractive body into a babe magnet was
extremely tempting.  So he slowly closed his eyes.

"Good.  Now just let your mind go blank," he heard the demon saying. 
"You're both doing fine..."

Suddenly, inside his head he saw the whirling pattern of dots before
his
eyes coalesce into the indistinct shape of the demon.  It looked both
ways
in a weird pantomime of checking to make sure they were alone and
leaned
upwards and spoke in a stage whisper, "Okay, Bob, this is just between
you
and me.  Before you start picturing your perfect body, how'd you like
to
get the chance to redesign your partner, old tight-ass over there?" 

The demon gestured and Bob saw an image of Cathy in his mind, standing
in
the middle of her pentagram, just as he'd last seen her before the
demon
appeared.  "You can make her into your dream girl if you want, it's up
to
you."

"Why are you offering me this?  I thought the spell was constraining
you?
And I thought you could only affect my body, not someone else's."  Bob
asked suspiciously.

"I told you we live off the energies generated by emotions.  Well, I
figure this way will generate more emotion than if she gets her wish
and
becomes some lesbian superwoman. As I said, I can't affect anyone
except
those who summoned me - but she _is_ one of those who summoned me, her
mind is interwoven in the energy field. But your mind is very strong
and
your mental image of what you want her to look like might be able to
supersede hers. I'll simply replace her mental image of her wish with
your
mental image of your dream girl when I initiate the change."

"But what if my mental energy isn't strong enough?"

"Then no harm done, she gets the body she wished for and nobody's the
wiser.  But if it works, you get your very own dream girl -- a total
nympho sex slave all your own!"

"Sex slave? You also said you couldn't make another love me." Bob
protested, still suspicious.

"I _can't_ make her love you, idiot," the demon seemed to be getting
exasperated. "But I _can_ give her new body a _very_ high sex drive,
_extremely_ sensitive to arousal. With you in your own Greek god
incarnation, all you'll have to do is whistle and she'll be eating out
of
her hands."

The offer was extremely tempting.  Wouldn't it be great to have the
girl
of his dreams AND a great physique? Plus the demon had hit upon Bob's
main
vanity - that his mental abilities were better than any woman's. It
was
every dateless dweeb's conviction that he was smarter than all those
attractive people having fun and partying. "Okay.  I'll try it.  What
do I
have to do?"

"Just imagine the perfect woman.  Let her take shape in your mind.
I'll
help you hold the image once you picture it, then we'll fill in the
details..."

Bob thought about all the Centerfolds he'd ever admired and all the
pretty
women he'd seen.  He saw a woman's shape take form in his mind and he
began picturing all the things he found sexy about a woman.  Firm
breasts,
their shape...yes, just like that... A small pert nose...  Sexy creamy
smooth skin...  Very long silky blonde hair... Long tapering
fingers...
Full sensuous lips... Shapely slender legs leading up to a round, firm
ass...
The image seemed to hold its form in his mind with no conscious effort
on
his part, leaving him free to fantasize and edit each tiny detail
without
trying to hold the entire picture in his head.  Finally he seemed
satisfied with his fantasy woman and could think of no way to further
improve her.

"That is what you want, Bob?" the demon asked, breaking into his
fantasy.

"Yes, that's exactly what I want."  Bob said lustfully, aroused by his
own
mental imagery.

"DONE!" said the demon in a booming voice.  

Bob's eyes flew open just in time to be blinded as the demon's 'body'
disappeared in a brilliant flash of light.  He felt suddenly very
dizzy
then everything went black.

TO BE CONTINUED....


Subject: New TG: Class Project, Chapter 2 (magic trans) 1/2
From: jandreams@aol.com (Jan Dreams)
Date: 15 Oct 1995 05:42:37 -0400
Message-ID: <45ql2d$9u8@newsbf02.news.aol.com>

Hi everyone,

Well, here's chapter 2. I'm also reposting chapter 1 for those who may
have arrived late. With luck and enough inspiration I should be ready
to
upload chapter 3 in a couple weeks. I welcome any and all comments.
Flames
will be ignored.

Disclaimers seem silly, but necessary I suppose. This work is intended
for
adults only. This is a work of _fiction_ and if you can't deal with
that
then get a life.  Permission granted to distribute electronically, but
please don't try to make money off my effort -- write your own.

Enjoy!

Class Project
by Janice Dreamer

Chapter 2

Bob woke to a bright light in his face. It was the sun glaring in his
apartment window. He was confused when he realized he was lying on the
floor in his living room. Why? Last night was a blank, but he didn't
feel
hungover -- in fact he felt pretty good -- so why had he slept in his
clothes on the floor. He blinked a couple times and raised his arm to
shield his eyes from the sunlight. The sleeve of his flannel shirt
hung
loosely on his arm and draped completely over his hand, very strange
since
it normally fit snug on his forearms and came a bit short on his
wrists.

He wrinkled his nose -- the whole apartment smelled of burnt plastic
and
charred wood. Was there a fire? He propped himself up on one elbow to
get
a better look at the room. The first thing he saw was the smoking
puddle
of plastic that was all that remained of his computer. His computer!
Fuck!
Encircling the ruined computer and crisscrossing the living room was a
maze of ugly black scorch marks on the hardwood floor. Shit, the
landlord's gonna be pissed, he thought. 

As his sleep-dulled mind slowly considered the damage to the
apartment,
memory of the previous night returned to him. With a feeling of dread
he
bolted up to a sitting position and frantically swept the room with
his
eyes. 

"Cathy?!" he called. His voice sounded strange to him. He cleared his
throat and tried again, "Cathy, are you okay?" 

His voice was still strangely high pitched, but he ignored it for the
moment, because he heard a low moan coming from behind him and to the
left. Like a hyper-alert sentry dog he whipped his head around to
locate
the source of the moan. Something weird was happening, for he
experienced
an unaccustomed sensation of weight from long hair swinging with the
motion of his head. Stranger yet, his vision was suddenly blocked by a
curtain of blond hair which flew over his eyes and across most of his
face. He reflexively reached up and managed to push most of the mass
of
hair back from his face although several stray strands still hung over
his
eyes and clung to his cheeks and mouth. But he ignored this
distraction as
he took in the sight of the other person in the room.

Cathy was sprawled on the floor on the opposite side of the room. She
was
on her side facing towards him. Her face was clearly visible and it
was
definitely Cathy. But a Cathy who'd been transformed into a real
beauty.
The differences were subtle except her hair -- which was much longer
--
but all combined they resulted in a haughty beauty. She was slimmer,
perhaps even a little taller, he guessed, based on how her ankles
stuck
out from the legs of her jeans. Lovely as she was, Bob was
disappointed,
for she wasn't the fantasy woman of his imagination that the demon had
promised him. Wait a minute, Bob thought with a sinking feeling, if
Cathy
has been changed to look like that, then what about me - what do I
look
like?

With a feeling of unreality he reluctantly tilted his head downward to
look at himself. The first thing to catch his eye was a rich mass of
long
red gold hair that spilled over his shoulders and fell down his chest
and
almost reached his lap. As for other differences, he couldn't really
see
much at first because he was practically swimming in his clothes. But
the
fact that his clothes were so big on him was further verification his
body
had definitely changed. He was accustomed to seeing his large belly
protruding over his belt, stretching the fabric of his shirt and
straining
the buttons. Instead his clothes -- they were definitely the clothes
he'd
worn last night -- hung on him like a parachute.

Wonderingly, he raised his arms from his lap to get a better look at
them.
The sleeves were so long his hands were completely swallowed by them,
as
if he were a little boy trying on his father's clothing. Awkwardly he
pushed one sleeve down to his elbow and stared in shock at the sight
of
his hand. It was a woman's hand, slim and feminine with long delicate
fingers. His nails extended half an inch beyond the ends of his
fingers.
His wrist and forearm were slender with almost no visible muscle tone
and
without a trace of hair anywhere. He pulled back the sleeve on his
other
arm and ran his hand over his skin, feeling how silky soft it was. 

As he moved his arms around to look at them from all angles, he felt
his
shirt slip off his right shoulder and slide down his upper arm. He
always
wore the top three buttons open for comfort, and now the neck opening
went
all the way down his arm to just above his elbow. Most of the right
half
of his chest was now exposed, revealing hairless satin smooth skin
tanned
a rich bronze where formerly there had been pasty white skin sparsely
covered with coarse hair. Although logically he should have been
expecting
it, he was surprised by the swell of soft flesh which pushed outwards
from
his chest and held up his shirt, preventing it from sliding the rest
of
the way down to his waist. He grabbed his neckline with a hand once
more
mittened inside his shirt sleeve and pulled his shirt away from the
front
of his body. He was staring down at two large, gorgeous, womanly
breasts! 

"Ho-leee shit!" he breathed in a whisper as he stared down,
openmouthed. 

He sensed their weight on his chest now, or rather identified the
sensation as being caused by the weight of his... breasts - the
concept
that he had breasts was still alien to him. Like the feel of his long
hair, he'd noticed many different sensations since waking but his
brain
was still in the process of assimilating everything. And of course,
even
more than his breasts, the area his brain had to do the most
interpretation of new sensations from was...

He reached down for his crotch, already knowing, and fearing, what to
expect. His hand brushed soft pubic hair - blonde he'd bet - and a
pubic
mound. No cock. No balls. He gingerly inserted a finger past the outer
lips of his pussy and cautiously explored by touch. His new equipment
was
very sensitive to his touch, was _extremely_ sensitive in certain
areas,
similar to how his cock had been sensitive all over but more so at the
head than the shaft, except this was even more intensely sensitive
than
even the head of his cock. A wild thought went through his mind that
this
was his very first time to actually touch a pussy - and it was his
own! 

Bob removed his finger from inside himself. He sat still, gently
cupping
his smooth new pubic mound, as if to verify it was real. He mentally
reviewed everything he could remember about last night. Impossible as
it
seemed, he had to accept the only obvious explanation for what had
happened to him. The fucking demon had changed him into his own
fantasy
woman. He lightly stroked his downy pubic hair, that seemed proof
enough
to confirm his conclusion. Just then Cathy shifted slightly in her
sleep,
reminding him that he wasn't alone. Embarrassed, he removed his hand
from
his pants - he didn't know how long he'd sat there with his hand on
his
crotch and he surely didn't want Cathy to wake up and see him like
that,
she might get the wrong idea about what he'd been doing.

He stood up and, in doing so immediately felt his body was more supple
than previously. His joints seemed to bend farther and it required
much
less effort rising from the floor than it had just yesterday. As he
rose
he unintentionally left his jeans and underpants behind him, they were
a
48 inch waist and had been getting a bit tight on him, but now,
impossibly
huge on his new body, they just slid down to his ankles. He stepped
from
the pile of clothes, clad only in a shirt that fell down to mid-calf
and a
pair of socks so loose they barely stayed on his feet. 

Experimenting a bit with his new flexibility, he brought his leg up
behind
him, bent at the knee, and twisted around and pulled the sock off,
then
repeated it for the other sock. Never in a million years could he have
done that before! He stretched his arms out and bent over at the waist
with his knees straight and laid his hands flat on the floor. While
still
bent over he hugged the backs of his legs and touched his cheek to his
shins, and held that position for a slow count of ten before he
straightened up. He couldn't believe how easy it was. He stretched up
on
his tiptoes and raised his hands in the air, reveling in the feeling
of
vitality of his new body. He felt light and energetic, and... well, he
felt great, possibly better than he'd ever felt in his entire life. 

He tried to mentally catalog the differences in his body, other than
the
obvious one. Throughout his contortions he kept being reminded of his
breasts. He might brush one with an arm unexpectedly, or feel the
weight
of them hanging down from his chest when he bent over. That would take
some getting used to. So would his hair, he thought. It had weight -
much
more than he would have thought. And whenever he moved his head or
bent
over it got in his face. He never realized how much trouble long hair
was
for women. Another obvious difference: he was much smaller now, but he
wasn't sure exactly how much.

He glanced upwards at the ceiling and it looked higher than normal. He
used to be able to reach up and touch it flatfooted. Now, even on
tiptoe
with his arms straight up as high as he could reach, it seemed
impossibly
high. He wasn't sure he could touch it at all, even if he jumped. He
walked over to the front door and looked up, he didn't think he could
even
reach the top of the door jamb without jumping. Bookshelves against
the
wall which had been eye level were now over his head. How much _had_
he
shrunk, he wondered. 

The clock on the wall chimed the hour and Bob was startled to see it
was
two in the afternoon. If it was Wednesday then the demon had knocked
them
out for over 12 hours. They only had four and a half more days until
everyone came back from Thanksgiving. He needed to figure out what he
was
going to do, what he was going to tell his roommates, how to change
himself back, or how to deal with things if he couldn't. Well, first
things first, he thought. See if Cathy's okay, then we'll try to
figure
out what to do next. God, I wonder how she's gonna take this?

He went over to Cathy and gently shook her. "Cathy? Cathy, wake up!"

She moaned softly and blindly tried to push his hands away. "I'm
tired.
Gonna skip class. Go 'way."

"Come on Cathy! You _have_ to wake up!" he shook her more urgently.

Her eyes flickered open, slowly focusing on his altered appearance,
and
she suddenly tensed. "Where am I? And who the hell are _you_?"

"It's me -- Bob. Remember last night? The experiment for class?
Something's gone wrong. We've got to _do_ something!" his voice
sounded
overly shrill to his ears. Up to now he'd somehow remained relatively
calm, probably due to shock, but seeing the lack of recognition on
Cathy's
face seemed to make it all so much more real, and he felt a rising
panic.

"Bob?!" she looked at him like he was crazy, "Girl, I don't know who
you
are but you're sure not Bob."

"It _is_ me, Cathy! I swear! Think. Last night. That demon did this.
It
changed me. It tricked me - just like you warned me." 

"Demon..." Her eyes grew big and she gasped in sudden realization. She
sat
up and momentarily glanced around in shocked disbelief at the havoc in
the
living room. Then she turned back to Bob, skeptically studying his new
face, "Last night... I remember... the demon. But you say you're Bob?
You
_can't_ be Bob?"

"Yes I am! I told you, the demon changed me. If you don't believe me,
then
look at yourself - it changed you too. Maybe not like it did me, but
you
sure didn't look like this last night. Just look in the mirror and
you'll
see what I mean." 

With a look like she was humoring a maniac Cathy uncertainly got to
her
feet and went into the bathroom to see herself. Bob followed and stood
beside her, both of them staring into the full length mirrored door of
the
linen closet. He was seeing himself as a woman for the first time, but
it
was a familiar reflection - he imagined this face nearly every time he
masturbated. He had the advantage of expecting to see himself as he
now
was, even though it was still shocking and fascinating all at once.
Cathy
had no such prior warning and could only stare at her new image in
slack-jawed amazement.

Cathy hadn't been ugly before, merely plain. Now however, she was
lovely
-- but still recognizably herself. It was as if someone had taken a
photo
and airbrushed away all the imperfections. She was now slimmer with
fuller
breasts and a narrow waist. Her face had been subtly altered with
finer
features, giving her an aristocratic air. Her hair had always been
coarse
and tended to frizz, necessitating that she keep it cut short.
Overnight,
her hair had grown at least six inches and now it shone jet black, and
lay
perfectly straight and silky sleek, with no hint of frizzies, in an
elegant blunt cut so it fell at her jawline. Her skin was flawless,
milky
pale perfection which contrasted beautifully with her dark eyes and
hair.
Cathy gasped in disbelief. It was as if all the tiny flaws she'd
agonized
over as a teenager had been erased.

"This is just what I pictured in my head last night." She whispered
while
putting a hand to her face, not quite sure if she were dreaming. "It's
real! I don't believe it! But it's real. This is exactly how I used to
imagine myself, I dreamed as a teenager that someday I'd grow up to
look
like this. And it's real... I can touch my face... I can feel myself
touching my face... It must be true..." she sensed herself babbling
and
stopped, self-consciously. Then the full implications hit her and she
said, doubtfully "then... you must really be Bob?" She spoke to Bob's
reflection in the mirror, totally awestruck by her own reflection and
unwilling to turn away from her idealized self for even a moment. 

"That's what I've been trying to tell you," he said softly.

"But... you're a woman... you look like a woman... are you?" she
looked
more closely at Bob's image in the mirror.

He nodded, and said ruefully, "Completely. At least I think so."

"Then... let me get this straight... you _wished_ for the demon to
make
you a woman?!?!" she turned away from the mirror to look at him
incredulously.

"Well... not exactly..." Bob wondered what he should tell her, then
realized she was the only one who could help him, so he decided to be
honest. "Um... like I said, the demon tricked me... you warned me
about
that, I know, but I didn't listen."

"Tricked you? How?" Cathy was beginning to suspect something.

"Well... it offered me a chance... to umm... have some... input into
how
I'd like you to look." Bob mumbled while watching Cathy's face for her
reaction.

She was silent for a moment, chewing over what he said. Then in a
sarcastic tone she said, "How you'd like ME to look?"

"Umm... yeah, that's right," Bob replied meekly.

"You mean to say you thought _you_ had the right to decide how _I_
look?
Of all the arrogant..." Cathy was nearly sputtering, incoherent with
rage.
She chopped off her tirade, made a visible effort to collect herself,
then
leaned back against the sink and insolently looked at him, letting her
gaze slowly move from head to foot and back up again. Finally, in a
voice
filled with scorn, she continued, "And you thought I wanted to look
like
_that_?!?! A simpering little tart? A blonde bimbo whore? You've spent
too
much time with centerfolds instead of real women. And that's where you
belong now - with a staple in your bellybutton. Ha! Well you got your
wish, Asshole - now you can live with it!"

"I'm sorry. I don't know what else to say. I was wrong. I guess I got
what
I deserved." Bob felt himself wilting under Cathy's anger. His lip
began
trembling uncontrollably, his chin was quivering, and he started to
cry.
He was mortified to show such weakness; through many years of taunting
and
slurs about his weight he'd never cried in front of anyone - he'd
never
given them the satisfaction of seeing his pain - but now here he was
weeping like a baby, and he couldn't stop himself.

"Oh stop it. Tears won't help you now." Cathy tried to cling to her
anger
- she felt justified - but she sensed his pain and her heart went out
to
Bob. They'd become friends over the past months. He was basically a
decent
guy, even if he was retarded when it came to women. He meant well.
What he
was going through, well she just couldn't imagine the trauma of waking
up
as radically changed as he was now. Finally she couldn't pretend
aloofness
any longer and she put her arms around him and hugged him, feeling the
sobs wrack his body.

"It's okay. Shhhh." Cathy felt her anger drain away as Bob's tears
soaked
her tee shirt. As she calmed down, she began to think more coherently
and
guiltily remembered her own dealings with the demon last night. She'd
nearly been suckered just like Bob. "I'm sorry for yelling. I'm not
mad
anymore. Calm down and listen to me a sec. I've got a confession. I
was
offered the same chance as you -- to decide how you'd look. I was
tempted
too. The only thing that stopped me was I kept thinking of all the
stories
of how demons tricked people. So I was too scared to do anything but
play
it totally straight and send that thing back to where it belonged."

Bob looked up at her. His big blue eyes were glistening and his cheeks
were streaked with tears. He searched her face, hopeful that she was
truly
offering forgiveness. He sniffled once, then squeaked in a tiny voice,
"Really?"

Cathy smiled. "Really. If not for pure luck and me being scared out of
my
head I might look like Antonio Sabato right now."

Bob grinned, feeling relieved she could joke about it. He wiped the
tears
from his face and became very solemn. "I'm sorry Cathy. It was
presumptuous of me to think I could... well anyway, I'm sorry. You're
a
good friend for understanding."

"No harm done... at least not to me. But we need to think about what
we're
going to do with you." Cathy drew a deep breath and reluctantly
continued,
"Much as the idea scares me, maybe we can run the spell again and
change
you back? Unless... well, to be honest that demon scared the shit out
of
me, and maybe it might be for the best if we didn't play with fire.
You
might have fun being a woman..."

"Of course we have to change me back!" Bob was dumfounded that Cathy
apparently didn't see that was the only alternative. He sighed. "But,
did
you get a look at the living room? My computer's hopeless - we need to
get
a new one before we can rerun the program. And like an idiot I never
made
a backup of the data for the demon program. Once I get a new computer
it'll take days to recreate everything - and I'm stuck like this till
we
do!"

As he spoke, Cathy looked at him standing there in a ridiculously
oversized shirt that hung down below his knees. She voiced her
thought,
"Well, if you're gonna look like that for a few days, we need to get
you
something to wear that you won't trip over." She studied him
critically a
moment, then continued, "You're so tiny, I don't think I have anything
to
fit you. And there's sure nothing of your own that will fit. You can't
go
out looking like that... I should probably run out and pick you up
something that you can wear for now. Then, if we need anything more,
we
can go together and you can try stuff on before we buy anything else."

Bob looked doubtful, how could she think about clothes at a time like
this? But he couldn't argue with her logic - he couldn't spend the
next
several days wrapped in a sheet. "Okay... I guess. I suppose while
you're
gone I can start cleaning up and see if anything's salvageable."

"Good idea. But first, we need to take your measurements so I can get
your
size." She glanced at herself in the mirror appraisingly, pulled the
waistband of her jeans out, noted how much excess material she now had
and
continued, "And while we're at it, you can help me check my new
measurements too. Maybe I'll buy something for myself that'll fit me a
little better."

"I suppose you're right. But do you need to go right this minute? We
should start working up an action plan on how to resolve this whole
situation. Going shopping seems a little trivial, don't you think?"
Bob
wanted her to focus on the main issue and stop going off on irrelevant
tangents.

"Yeah, right. You want an action plan, Bob? Okay, I can give you an
action
plan. Step one, state the problem to be resolved. I'd say the problem
to
be resolved is: that thing turned you into a woman! A _naked_ woman
who's
wandering around wearing a tent! You can't get into the University
computer center dressed like that. You can't go to the library. You
can't
go buy a computer - which you need in order to change back. You can't
even
go pick up a box of tampax, which if you dither around long enough
you're
_gonna_ need, Bob! So I say priority one is to get you something to
wear
so you can take care of steps two, three and so on. Now it's the day
before Thanksgiving, Bob, and the stores will be closing down real
soon
and won't reopen until Friday. So I think going shopping right now is
a
little more than a trivial whim, Bob. Duh!" Cathy rolled her eyes.

Bob blushed and said meekly "I'll go find a measuring tape."

They took each other's measurements, weighed themselves and wrote it
all
down. Bob was now just barely 5 feet tall, weighed all of 92 pounds
and
sported a sexy 34-20-32 figure. He'd lost 16 inches of height and over
200
pounds. When Cathy read off his waist measurement Bob could hardly
believe
it, his _neck_ had used to be 20 inches! Cathy's measurements weren't
as
drastically changed.  She had grown an inch and a half taller to
5'11-1/2". She'd lost nearly 30 pounds and now weighed 135. Her
measurements were the classic cliché 36-24-36, much better than
yesterday's 34-28-38. She preened in front of the mirror while Bob
fussed
with the tape, still not sure she wasn't dreaming.

After they finished measuring, they stood side by side and looked at
themselves in the mirror. They made an interesting pair -- a study in
contrasts. Bob came up about even with Cathy's shoulders, she could
rest
her chin on the top of his head. Cathy was long legged and svelte,
with
full breasts but having the overall impression of slender elegance.
Bob
was tiny and fragile looking, his bust measured two inches less than
Cathy's but appeared to be much larger on his small frame and
minuscule
waist. Even their coloring was radically different. Cathy was pale,
accented by midnight black hair clipped in a precise coif with each
strand
naturally falling exactly in place and eyes so dark and deep they
promised
mysteries unimaginable. Bob was bronze, like he'd been working on the
perfect tan all his life, with sapphire blue eyes and golden blonde
hair
glinting with coppery highlights that cascaded down to the small of
his
back in unruly waves. Cathy's overall look was cool and polished,
supermodel sleek, sophisticated, and refined elegance. Bob's look was
more
winsome, playful exuberance, wildly unbridled and wantonly sexual.

"Wow. You're gorgeous, Cathy" Bob broke the silence which had
descended as
they stared at themselves.

"Don't you mean we are gorgeous, cutie? You make one sexy looking
babe."
Cathy teased. "Now I better get going or we'll never get you anything
to
wear."

*****

Bob tried to do something constructive while Cathy was gone. He
started
going through the mess on the table where his computer was. Everything
was
ruined. It was so discouraging. The melted plastic from the computer
had
even run all over their notes, like lava from a volcano and singed
them so
badly he couldn't make out but one word in ten. The worst was when he
pried up a congealed blob of plastic and discovered the remains of
Cathy's
Grimoire. Some chemical in the plastic must have reacted with the
book. It
looked like someone had dipped the thing in acid. There was nothing
left
but the frayed leather binding. The original spell was in that book.
If
Cathy didn't have another copy then all was lost - they'd never be
able to
recreate the summoning spell from memory. 

It felt like the entire world had turned against him. It was all so
hopeless. Slowly Bob sank to the floor. He drew his knees up to his
chest,
hugging his legs, laid his head on his knees and started to cry again.
After a while he was cried out. Strangely, he felt better. As if the
pressure of stress had all drained away. When he'd been male he used
to
masturbate, whenever possible, if pressure got to him. Was he going to
start crying from now on? God, what is wrong with me, he thought. I
can't
control my emotions. Is this what my life is going to be from now on?

He tried to put those thoughts out of his mind. He walked back to the
bathroom and washed his face. He stood leaning over the sink with
water
dripping down his face mesmerized by his reflection. He was staring at
the
face he fantasized about every time he masturbated. Even though he
wasn't
feeling particularly aroused, curiosity got the better of  him. He
straightened his body and shrugged off the shirt he was wearing -- not
hard to do - he just unbuttoned a couple top buttons, dropped his arms
to
the side and wiggled his shoulders and the monstrously oversized
garment
slithered down his body and puddled around his ankles. He took one
step
forward, kicked the shirt behind him, and voila - nude blonde. He
giggled
- talk about your fantasies coming to life!

He stared at himself in the full length mirror. There was less shock,
more
familiarization in his examination now. He wasn't yet comfortable with
his
new appearance but he no longer felt totally in denial either. He
studied
himself more like someone experimenting with combing his hair
differently
than someone who'd woken up to find his head shaved bald. 

He tried imitating some of the things he enjoyed watching women do.
Tossing his head to see his hair fly about. Standing profile on
tiptoes to
see how his ass and legs looked. Leaning over to watch how his breasts
hung and jiggled on his chest. Cocking his head to one side and
smiling
seductively. Blowing air kisses. Posing with one hand on hip, one leg
slightly cocked. Soon he was posing more and more provocatively. He
felt
silly, exhilarated, and a little embarrassed, all at once, and was
also
starting to feel a little turned on. As he continued posing, his touch
on
his skin became more languorous. He began touching himself more for
the
pleasurable sensations he was eliciting than for the visual impact of
the
poses. Before long, he stopped posing altogether and simply stood
still
and caressed his body.

Slowly Bob traced the outline of his breasts with his fingertips. God,
that felt so good! He cupped them in his hands and felt their weight.
The
skin was soft and satin smooth. He gently stroked his nipples with
just
the tips of his index fingers. Oh! He felt his nipples crinkle - hard.
He'd felt a similar sensation of arousal when he'd been a man and had
curiously played with his own nipples, but that wasn't even close to
this
powerful feeling. His knees grew weak and he felt a stirring in his
crotch. He traced his right hand down his belly, savoring the downy
softness of his new skin, and lightly brushed his silky pubic hair.
Feather soft he grazed the outer folds of his new sex with the tips of
his
first and second fingers. It was too much -- he moaned aloud, aching
with
desire. His nipples grew even stiffer, as if they would burst. Bob
felt
overwhelmed with sensations which were vaguely familiar, similar to
male
arousal, but also different, strangely wonderful and enticing. With an
urgency akin to penile erection his new vagina seemed to swell and
blossom, tingling, ultra-sensitive, straining for a touch, impelling
him
to... 

DING DONG!

"Oh SHIT!" Bob moaned in frustration. He guiltily snatched his hands
away
from his body and tried to calm his breathing and slow his pounding
heart.
Cathy was back awfully early, she probably forgot something. 

DING DONG! DING DONG!

"Hold on, I'm coming!" He called, irritated. "Well, I almost did," he
muttered to himself.

He looked around for something to put on so he could answer the door.
The
last thing he wanted was to give the neighbors a thrill. He rejected
the
shirt he'd just taken off as way too big -- likely to slip open and
reveal
his newly acquired charms to anyone in the parking lot. Cathy was
right,
all his old clothes would be like wearing a tent, so he decided to
look
for something in his roommate's room. Jim was in much better shape
than
Bob had been and might have something that he could wear in a pinch.
Jim
was a men's medium as compared to Bob's 4Xlarge. Jim wouldn't mind if
he
borrowed his clothes Bob reasoned, they were best friends and he'd
have
done the same for Jim if ever he was suddenly turned into a woman by a
demon.


Subject: New TG: Class Project Chapter 2 (magic trans) 2/2
From: jandreams@aol.com (Jan Dreams)
Date: 15 Oct 1995 06:40:23 -0400
Message-ID: <45qoen$cev@newsbf02.news.aol.com>

(Chapter 2 continued)

DING DONG! DING DONG!

"Hold on, I'm coming!" He called, irritated. "Well, I almost did," he
muttered to himself.

He looked around for something to put on so he could answer the door.
The
last thing he wanted was to give the neighbors a thrill. He rejected
the
shirt he'd just taken off as way too big -- likely to slip open and
reveal
his newly acquired charms to anyone in the parking lot. Cathy was
right,
all his old clothes would be like wearing a tent, so he decided to
look
for something in his roommate's room. Jim was in much better shape
than
Bob had been and might have something that he could wear in a pinch.
Jim
was a men's medium as compared to Bob's 4Xlarge. Jim wouldn't mind if
he
borrowed his clothes Bob reasoned, they were best friends and he'd
have
done the same for Jim if ever he was suddenly turned into a woman by a
demon.

On top of the bed was a basket of clean laundry. Bob grinned, it was
so
typical of Jim to do laundry _before_ going to visit his parents, Jim
was
too considerate for his own good. Quickly he rummaged through the
clothes-basket and came up with a yellow tank top that Jim used for
running. It was loose on Jim so it should fit his new body almost like
a
dress. He pulled it over his head, glanced in the bureau mirror and
saw
that he was 'decent' -- barely. It came pretty high on his thighs, and
his
breasts were rather prominently displayed, but there wasn't time to
look
for anything better. Besides, he'd be changing into the clothes Cathy
brought once he opened the door for her.

DING DONG! DING DONG! KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

"I SAID I'm coming!" Bob yelled. Exasperated, he stomped over and
yanked
open the door without bothering to check the peephole. "What the
hell's
the rush..." his angry comment trailed off when he saw who was at the
door.

Leaning against the door frame with his back mostly turned so he was
facing the parking lot was Brad Franklin. Brad was everything Bob had
not
been as a man. He was handsome, self-assured, athletic, rich, and had
a
way with the ladies - he seemed to always have a gorgeous woman
hanging on
him. He and his friends were the social elite on campus. They belonged
to
the best fraternity, drove the hottest cars, threw the wildest
parties,
and fucked the most beautiful women. Bob hated him. He lived in the
next
apartment over and saw Bob all the time, yet hardly even acknowledged
his
existence. He'd drive past Bob walking to class and never offer him a
ride, even when it was raining. The only time he ever spoke to Bob or
any
of his roommates was when he'd throw one of his parties and come over
to
bum some ice.

In no hurry, as if he was accustomed to people waiting on him, he
straightened up and began turning toward Bob. "I was afraid you'd all
gone
for the holiday. Hey, man, I need some..." He paused and broke into a
wide
grin as he got his first look at the new and improved Bob. His eyes
leisurely wandered downward, oozing over Bob's body, gliding down his
legs
to his bare feet, then crawled back upward and came to rest squarely
on
his breasts. "...n-i-i-i-i-i-c-e... No, Ice. I mean. I need some ice.
Got
any?" 

With Brad's attention so obviously focused on his chest, Bob became
acutely aware of how stiff his nipples were and how they pushed out
the
thin fabric of the tank top. He also remembered how flushed and
excited he
looked in the mirror just before he came to answer the door. Realizing
how
he must appear to Brad, Bob blushed deeply, let go the door knob and
self-consciously brought his arms up to hug his chest.

Brad grinned even wider as he watched Bob's reaction, obviously
interpreting it as appreciation for his own manly form. When Bob
released
the door to cover his breasts Brad, ever opportunistic, took advantage
of
this to push the door open a bit wider and take a step across the
threshold, thus preventing Bob from closing the door. "Hi, I'm Brad, I
live next door. You're new. I thought three guys lived here... Jim...
and
um... Scott... and... Bob? I've never seen you before." He flashed a
friendly smile and offered his hand in greeting.

Reflexively, Bob reached out his hand and said, "I'm Bob... uh...
Bob's
sister...  Bob's sister... uh... Robyn. Yah, Bob's sister, Robyn. Nice
to
meet you, Brad." Smooth, very smooth, Bob mentally kicked himself for
being an idiot. 

Before he realized what was happening Brad had taken his hand, but not
in
a normal handshake as Bob expected. He enfolded Bob's fingers and held
them loosely, horizontally, as though he were about to raise Bob's
hand to
his lips and kiss it. Bob had never realized before the subtle
difference
in the way a man takes a woman's hand - and how it made the woman feel
vaguely vulnerable - it was not the handshake of equals. Flustered,
Bob
blushed all the more, and tried to draw back his hand. But Brad
squeezed
his fingers lightly and held on with just enough pressure to prevent
Bob
from graciously withdrawing his hand. Unconsciously, Bob's free arm
had
dropped to his side to counterbalance the extension of his right arm,
so
he stood there feeling awkward and trapped, his right hand captured by
Brad while his left hand fluttering ineffectually near the hem of his
tank
top. 

"Very nice to meet you, Bob's sister Robyn. You have lovely... hands."
As
he spoke these words, his gaze moved from their joined hands up to
Bob's
breasts -- which were barely concealed by the thin cotton tank top.

TO BE CONTINUED...


Subject: New TG: The Class Project 3 (retry), (magic trans)
From: jandreams@aol.com (Jan Dreams)
Date: 28 Oct 1995 13:30:55 -0400
Message-ID: <46tpcf$2h3@newsbf02.news.aol.com>

Hi everyone,

It's taken longer to get this out than I anticipated. This chapter
just
sort of grew and grew until I finally chopped it off short of where I
planned in my outline. Then I split it into two separate chapters, and
I'm
posting both at once. I've got a good head start on the next chapter
so I
should get that out with any luck in the next few days. I welcome any
and
all comments, I'm curious to see what people think of this. Flames
will be
ignored.

Disclaimers seem silly, but necessary I suppose. This work is intended
for
adults only. This is a work of _fiction_ and if you can't deal with
that
then get a life.  Permission granted to distribute electronically, but
please don't try to make money off my effort -- write your own.

Enjoy!


The Class Project
by Janice Dreamer

Chapter 3

Cathy strolled idly through the mall looking in the store windows, but
her
mind wasn't on the displays. She kept worrying over the situation with
Bob. She was troubled about how to handle him. A part of her saw it as
poetic justice that he should have to live as his own male fantasy.
But he
was also a victim of how society treated unattractive people. If he
hadn't
been shunned all his life then he might have a more realistic
conception
of women. 

At first she'd thought of him only as a dweeb and just barely
tolerated
him. But she learned Bob was more than just a dweeb. He was a smart,
kind,
generous guy. Once you got past his outer facade he was like a puppy
just
aching for affection. As they'd grown closer Cathy had begun to gain
insight into how Bob ticked. Based on things he'd said and his general
attitude Cathy knew he regarded most women, especially pretty ones, as
less intelligent, good for little more than sex objects. But in
reality,
despite his male arrogance he was afraid of women, and possibly hated
them, hated the power they had to hurt him. He envied the way
everything
seemed to just happen so easily for attractive women. At least that's
how
Cathy reasoned it would appear to Bob, but she knew there was a price
to
be paid for everything. 

In spite of his attitude toward women she'd grown to like Bob, once he
loosened up enough to be himself around her. Cathy was the only woman
who
Bob felt comfortable with, the only woman who didn't instantly turn
him
into a quivering, sweaty, tongue-tied dork. Which is why she felt so
offended when she learned he tried to transform her into one of the
brain-dead sex objects he expressed such disdain for. She felt
betrayed by
him. Yet in a weird way it was almost a compliment that he'd want to
give
her his own version of beauty. Even though she was pissed, he was
still
her friend and she wanted to help him. It was a hell of a dilemma and
she
still hadn't resolved how she was going to deal with it. In fact,
while it
was true that getting clothing was a priority, the main reason she
suggested this shopping expedition was to give her some time alone to
think things through.

She was of two minds about how to treat Bob now. It would be so
satisfying
to punish him. Shock him. Rub his nose in his new femininity. Maybe
dress
him up slutty and dump him at a biker bar. Let him deal with the nasty
side of being female in a man's world with no help from her. But she
also
felt inclined to make things easy for him, he had enough stress just
looking in a mirror without her adding to his problems. The big
unknown
factor in her reasoning was how long Bob would have to live as a woman
before they could change him back, if they could even do so - the
spell
had worked once but there were no guarantees it would work again. The
one
thing you could rely on when dealing with the supernatural was that
you
couldn't really rely on anything. Plus there was an added factor of
danger
if they succeeded - would the demon be angry and maybe do something
worse
if they bothered it a second time? It might be for the best if Cathy
did
all she could to get Bob to accept his new womanhood and get on with
his
life. As a bonus, if he ever did change back to a man, he might have a
better attitude towards women after having lived as one.
allegretto
Cathy had been careful in picking out stuff for him to wear, deciding
to
go low key on his wardrobe. She bought him a pair of jeans, and a
rather
plain cotton ribbed top from the Gap as well as some socks and a pair
of
Reeboks from Lady FootLocker. So far she'd resisted the urge to pick
out
anything that might freak him out as being too sexy or feminine. She'd
also picked up a new pair of jeans for herself. She adjusted her bra
strap
and realized she needed a new bra, thanks to her own transformation
the
one she had on was pinching her something awful. She figured she'd
also
need to pick up some panties and a bra for Bob, no matter how weird
wearing women's underwear might feel to him he couldn't be expected to
wear jockey shorts on his new form. 

She looked at a display of casual evening wear. This store, like all
the
others, had a sign announcing their upcoming "Fabulous After
Thanksgiving
Sale!" She toyed with the notion of dragging Bob here on Friday and
getting him decked out in a sexy miniskirt. Then she caught a glimpse
of
her own much improved reflection in the store's window. All her life
she'd
been a conservative dresser. A realist when it came to her looks, she
never embarrassed herself by trying to be something she wasn't,
preferring
to go for an 'interesting' rather than a sexy look. But she'd
sometimes
daydreamed about having the kind of body that could wear revealing
clothes
and be the center of attention. Now she had the body, but old habits
die
hard, and she was hesitant to try anything that might be too flashy.
She
put the thought aside and walked on to the next storefront. In this
window
there was a rather daring bodysuit on display. She paused, idly
wondering
what it might feel like to wear something so form-fitting. 

"Cathy?" a man's voice broke into her thoughts, "Is that you?"

She turned and saw Greg Ewing staring at her uncertainly. Greg and she
had
lived in the same dorm her freshman year. They shared many common
interests and had become good friends. Cathy had always harbored a
secret
crush on him but she'd never pursued it, he had a girlfriend back
home.
Later, after he broke up and became available she'd been reluctant to
risk
their friendship by voicing her feelings. So she'd watched in silent
frustration as he became involved with an Economics major. After
freshman
year they drifted apart when they were assigned to different dorms. He
was
pre-Law, her major was Anthropology, so they had no classes together
and
almost never bumped into each other on campus.

"Greg!" Cathy smiled broadly, enjoying the look of pleased
astonishment on
his face.

"It is you! Wow! You look great! How've you been?" He hugged her
warmly
then held her out at arms' length to look at her again.

"Thanks, I feel great!" She posed coquettishly, hand on hip, other arm
raised in imitation Vanna White flourish. 

Greg clutched his heart and laughed. He was quite good looking with
dark
hair and a lean athletic build. His face was clean shaven with a
strong
chin and roman nose. His eyes were gray and very intense. When he was
talking with someone he focused on them alone, very direct and frank.
This
quality made you feel he was sensitive and honest and deeply
interested in
what was being said, and Cathy had always found it endearing.

"So how come you're still in town? I thought you'd be home for
Thanksgiving... or maybe visiting Susan?" Cathy fished for news on his
relationship with the Econ major.

"Sue and I broke up last spring," he said casually, tossing it off as
totally unimportant. "And I'm bagging the holiday this year. I decided
to
hang around town. Sort of depressurize and get ready for the big push
into
finals. Besides, I'm going to get enough bad advice on Law Schools
from my
uncles over Christmas - I don't need it dished up for Thanksgiving
dinner
too. What about you? What are you doing here, instead of home with
your
parents?" 

"What am I doing here? Oh.... Thinking about buying that catsuit." She
grinned and teasingly pointed to the window display. God, she was
flirting
like a schoolgirl! She was feeling a thrill of possibilities opening
before her. "He's not seeing anyone!" kept echoing in her mind.

"Cool! That would look so hot on you! I can't get over how fabulous
you
look, Cathy." He smiled appreciatively, all but drooling over her.

She blushed at the compliment, then changed the subject. "Actually I'm
staying on campus over the holiday too. I've got a project due and my
partner and me need to get some work done... but... we probably won't
be
working the _whole_ weekend..." She hesitated a moment, letting the
hint
dangle hoping he'd decide to go for it. 

"Well, if you're not busy maybe we could get together? Get caught up
with
each other. That'd be great wouldn't it? It's been too long." He
paused a
moment, as if considering taking a chance, then plunged ahead. "In
fact,
some friends of mine were talking about taking a break and getting a
beer
this evening down at the MouseTrap. If you get a chance, why not stop
by?"


Cathy considered his offer a moment. Greg obviously didn't want to
pressure her, he was keeping it cool by not making it seem like a
date.
But the MouseTrap was the local meet market and she always felt out of
place there. She sure didn't relish the idea of having to fight off a
bunch of losers while looking around for Greg. And if something came
up
and he didn't make it she didn't want to be stuck there all alone. But
she
didn't want to totally blow him off either, she might not get another
opportunity. Then she remembered Bob, they could go together, she knew
she
could convince him to go with her -- he owed her. 

"I'll check with my partner, maybe we'll take a study break tonight
too." 

"Great! I'll look for you. But I gotta run right now, I'm late. Cathy,
I
can't tell you how fantastic it is to see you again." He hugged her
once
more, and started off into the mall. After a few steps he turned back
around. Walking backwards he called in parting, "I can hardly wait for
tonight! See ya!" 

Cathy waved and smiled as Greg walked away. She was thrilled with how
he
reacted to seeing her. She wanted to jump up and down and squeal and
laugh
out loud, but she restricted herself to a little twirl and a half
whispered "Yesss!" Now she had to think about what to wear tonight,
the
jeans she'd just bought were practically the only thing she owned that
fit
properly. Jeans were okay but she had an urge to go totally wild to
impress Greg. And if she went for all out gorgeous, she'd need to pick
out
something more than jeans for Bob too. In her giddy happy state she
blew
off her original plan of keeping Bob's wardrobe low-key so as not to
shock
him. Wickedly, she thought what an experience it would be for him to
get a
taste of how it felt to be a lust object. 

The bodysuit in the window caught her eye again. On impulse she
entered
the store, practically dancing. 

*****

Brad looked around the living room and joked "Wow, must have been some
party. Remind me never to use your decorator."

"Oh. Yah. Well... it's the maid's day off... you know how hard it is
to
find good help." Bob cringed at his lame come-back.

Bob was totally at a loss. He stood paralyzed with indecision as Brad
held
his hand possessively and openly stared at his breasts. In his entire
life
he had no experience to draw on for a situation like this. Previously,
whenever Bob had any interaction with a woman it had always felt like
she
had complete control, she could freeze him out or accept his
conversational overture at her whim. Now, he _was_ a woman and still
he
felt overwhelmed. It was a matter of self-confidence, Brad was sure of
himself to the point where he didn't seem to consider rejection as a
possibility. Bob knew this intellectually. But knowing it didn't
change
the fact that he felt himself swept along by Brad's self-assured
commanding personality.

"So, Robyn, how come I haven't seen you before? Is this your first
visit
with your brother?" 

Bob's mind floundered for a simple cover story, he might be like this
for
some time and he needed to explain his presence. "Um... actually, I'm
thinking about transferring here from Community College. So I'll be
staying around for a bit to check out the campus."

"Really? Well, if you need a tour guide, I'd be happy to show you
around.
That is... if your brother's too busy. Where is he anyway?"

"My brother? Oh... he had to... go away. Something came up back home
and
he needed to... take care of it."

"Oh? Then you're all alone for the holiday?" Brad openly made a show
of
looking in the direction of the bedrooms as if to see if anyone else
was
in the apartment.

"Well... just now. But I'm expecting a friend any minute." Bob felt
suddenly very vulnerable, reminded again of how the thin tank top he
was
wearing concealed very little of his new body.

"Then we should use that time to get to know each other while you
wait,"
Brad said with an ingenuous grin. He gently steered Bob over to the
sofa.

Bob had the presence of mind to carefully smooth his shirt underneath
him
as he sat down. He kept his knees together while he lowered himself to
the
couch, then cautiously crossed his legs to prevent any inadvertent
beaver
shots. He tugged on the hem of his shirt, attempting to pull it
further
down his thighs. All the while he was intensely aware of Brad's eyes
watching every move he made.

Brad slowly began to draw Bob out. He had a practiced wit and
disarming
charm. Bob was experiencing first hand what so many other women before
him
had, Brad was employing the full force of his personality to make Bob
feel
at ease. Never in his life had anyone paid so much attention to him.
Bob
was totally defenseless against Brad's flirtatious flattery and
attempts
to amuse him. It was a heady experience and Bob soon found himself
giggling at Brad's jokes and feeling clever himself thanks to the way
Brad
seemed to enjoy his feeble attempts at humor.

Brad sat close to Bob. Too close for Bob's hyper alert senses. Bob
could
feel the heat radiating from Brad's thigh as it occasionally brushed
his
own. He somehow managed not to flinch the first time Brad touched him,
which he seemed to do often. He would compliment Bob on his hair and
reach
up to lightly stroke it, or make a joke and gently brush Bob's forearm
or
the back of his hand to signal the punchline. The touches weren't
overtly
sexual, or even overly familiar, but Bob felt each one almost as an
electric shock. He was more used to the unconscious space maintained
by
two men talking, or the even greater distance which he kept when
talking
to a woman. But Brad was relaxed with the intimacy, as if it were
natural
and expected. And as they continued talking, Bob found himself feeling
more comfortable with each casual touch.

Bob heard someone at the door and glanced at the clock, surprised to
see
they'd been talking for over an hour. In very short order Brad had
somehow
maneuvered him into a friendly, even flirtatious mood. Yesterday Brad
wouldn't have given him the time of day, and now here he was virtually
dripping charm and friendliness. Bob would never have believed how
much he
was enjoying himself.

The front door swung open and Cathy came clattering into the apartment
loaded down with more than a dozen shopping bags. She came in
backwards,
having pushed the door open with her hip while she struggled with the
packages. 

"Hey! I'm back!" she yelled over her shoulder, "Guess what? We're
going to
the 'Trap tonight so we gotta hurry and get ready... Oh! Why Brad
Franklin, as I live and breathe... what are you doing here?" Cathy
shot a
scathing 'what-the-hell's-going-on?' look toward Bob.

While Bob was still collecting his thoughts, Brad smiled at Cathy,
slightly confused that she apparently knew him, and said, "Hi. I'm
sorry,
I know I should remember meeting someone as lovely as you but..."

"We never actually met. I was Beth Simpson's roommate in sophomore
year."

"Oh. Beth! Nice girl. How's she doing?" Brad seemed pleasantly
interested.

"She's fine... now." Cathy answered, deadpan.

"Good.  Good. Anyway... um... it's nice to meet you, uh...?"

When Cathy remained silent several heartbeats, Bob suddenly came to
life,
breaking the mounting tension. "Cathy... this is Brad. Brad, Cathy.
She's
a ... um... friend of my brother."

"Yes... a friend of your brother. So. Well Brad, I hate to be rude but
you'll have to excuse me and... me and... you'll have to excuse us
girls.
We've got lots to do. Another time, perhaps." Cathy dumped her
shopping
bags in a pile then stood expectantly holding the door for Brad.

Brad stood up. "Oh I should be going anyway. Nice to meet you Cathy.
And
so _very_ nice to meet you, Robyn. Maybe I'll see you tonight... you
did
say you were going to the MouseTrap?"

Cathy narrowed her eyes at Brad. "Yah. Maybe. Anyway... um... Robyn.
We
really do need to get busy."

"Well, ladies until later." Brad leaned down and took Bob's hand
again,
giving it a farewell squeeze. He nodded to Cathy and walked out.

"What the _hell_ was that about?" Cathy blurted as soon as the door
closed.

"He... um... dropped by to borrow ice and we just got to talking." Bob
said.

"Well, he's trouble. Big time."

"Oh, I don't know. I used to think he was a major asshole too. But
once
you get to know him, he's actually kind of... nice." Bob blushed,
remembering the feel of Brad's hand stroking his hair.

"Well he really pulled a number on my roommate. So you better watch
your
ass around him cause I guarantee that's all Mr. Brad Franklin is
interested in... a piece of ass."

"Stop worrying Cathy. No way is something like that going to happen to
me!
I'm a _guy_, for godsakes."

"Just remember what I said... Robyn. Nice choice of name, by the way.
I
like it, it suits you."

"Spur of the moment," Bob said. "I can't go around calling myself
'Bob'
and 'hey you' is just too lame. But forget that for right now, this is
more important: that old book of yours, with the original spell... the
Grimoire? I found it, or what's left of it. It's totally trashed. I
was
hoping maybe you had another copy?"

"Oh shit." Cathy paused, thinking rapidly. She could kick herself for
not
making copies. The Grimoire was a one of a kind, something she'd
stumbled
across in a tiny shop in Italy. In all her studies of the occult,
she'd
never seen or heard of any other source that was so accurate and
complete.
If she told Bob the book was irreplaceable he'd totally freak. She'd
have
to let him adjust to his new situation before she gave him the bad
news.
"That's bad... but... we can probably find enough different references
in
the library and some shops I know to piece together the spell."

"Well... that's a relief. But how long do you think that could take?"
Bob
hadn't a clue as to what reference works were available on subjects as
arcane as black magic or witchcraft.

"I dunno. I have to be honest... it could be a while, Bob." Cathy
hedged.

Well, then I guess we need to start researching. Maybe we can make a
list
of references to start?"

"Bob, Bob, Bob. The library won't be open tomorrow, it's Thanksgiving.
All
that can wait. Besides, as I started to tell you earlier, we're going
out
tonight. It'll do you some good, get your mind off... things."

"Out? Where?" Bob was thinking desperately how to get back into a male
body and hadn't caught on to Cathy's change of subject.

"I ran into an old friend at the mall and he asked me to meet him
tonight
at the MouseTrap. I can't go alone so I figured I'd take you with me."
Her
voice assumed a wheedling tone of appeal.

"I dunno Cathy..." Bob hesitated, "Go to a place like the 'Trap...
looking
like this?"

"Oh come on, Bob. I really need you to do me this favor. I even bought
you
something special to wear tonight. You're gonna love it. It'll be fun,
trust me." 

"Well..."

Cathy sensed Bob was wavering, so she plowed on ahead. She decided her
best bet would be to give Bob no options. Just act like it was already
decided and he'd better follow along with her or else. She rummaged
through the pile of bags she'd dumped on the floor until she found
what
she wanted. 

"Here's the outfit I picked out for you to wear tonight." Cathy handed
a
flat red box to Bob. "Go ahead, open it."

Bob hefted the box, slightly puzzled at how light it felt. This
couldn't
contain an entire outfit. He opened the box, unfolded the tissue paper
lining and saw shiny black fabric. He stroked the material with his
fingertips and felt soft sensuous silk. He lifted the garment from the
box, marveling at how insubstantial it seemed. 

"What is it?" he asked.

"It's a dress, silly," Cathy took it from him, and held it up by two
thin
straps. Now Bob could see that it was indeed a dress. A very small
dress. 

"I can't wear something like that... that... little scrap!" he
protested,
"I've seen bigger handkerchiefs."

She ignored his protests, and chattered on cheerfully as if he hadn't
said
a word. "It's called a slipdress. Some girls wear a tee shirt
underneath,
but you don't need to -- you've got the body for it, so why not flaunt
it." 

Bob stared at her like she was insane. He shook his head vehemently,
at a
loss for words.

Cathy grinned wickedly, "Don't be such a chicken... Robyn. Every girl
needs a little black dress. That's the First Commandment of Fashion.
You'll drive the guys wild in this. Don't you even want to see what it
looks like on you?"

"No! If you think I'm wearing that, you're nuts." He was all but
shrieking
now.

Bob was starting to get hysterical. She needed to get control of the
situation. It was for the best, she rationalized, he needed to come to
grips with his new life and going out tonight would be a first step.
Cathy
played her trump card. "Well, it's this or nothing, girlfriend. But
either
naked or wearing this dress you'd better be planning on coming with me
tonight. If you won't do this one little thing for me then you can
forget
about any help from me from now on." 

Bob sighed, feeling defeated. Events were just moving way too fast for
him. "If you put it that way, what choice do I have?"

"Atta girl!" Cathy steered Bob toward the bedroom. "You'll have fun,
you'll see. Now let's start getting you ready for your debut."

TO BE CONTINUED...


Subject: New TG: Class Project 4 (retry), (magic trans)
From: jandreams@aol.com (Jan Dreams)
Date: 28 Oct 1995 13:31:10 -0400
Message-ID: <46tpcu$2h8@newsbf02.news.aol.com>

Hi everyone,

Well, here's chapter 4. I'm pretty far along in the next chapter so
hopefully I should be ready to upload chapter 5 fairly quickly. I
welcome
any and all comments, I'm curious to know what people think about
this.
Flames will be ignored.

Disclaimers seem silly, but necessary I suppose. This work is intended
for
adults only. This is a work of _fiction_ and if you can't deal with
that
then get a life.  Permission granted to distribute electronically, but
please don't try to make money off my effort -- write your own.

Enjoy!

The Class Project
by Janice Dreamer

Chapter 4

Cathy directed Bob to peel off Jim's tank shirt and disappeared into
the
bathroom. Bob heard the sound of a bath being run. In a few moments,
Cathy
was back. She looked critically at the unruly blonde mane flowing down
Bob's back. "I don't think there's time to mess with a shampoo. Do you
have any clean bandannas?"

Bob got her a large patterned workman's handkerchief. She took it and
began collecting Bob's long hair up in a massive coil. Using the
bandanna
she tied his hair up on top his head and seemed satisfied. Then she
ushered him into the bathroom, where the tub was mostly filled.

"Try not to get your hair wet. And don't take too long getting washed,
it's after seven already." Cathy bustled out, evidently to start other
preparations.

Bob eased down into the steamy water. He couldn't remember the last
time
he'd had a bath instead of a shower. The hot water was just what he
needed. He could feel the tension seeping from his body. So relaxing.
He
could stay here forever.

"I don't hear washing," Cathy called from the other room after a few
minutes.

Bob considered briefly how tempting it would be to drown her. Then he
sighed, resigned himself to going along with her for now, and looked
around for soap and washcloth.

"What'd you do with the soap?" he complained.

"Oh! I forgot," Cathy came down the hall and tossed a box at him. "I
picked this up for you today. Use it instead of soap, it's good for
your
skin."

Bob caught it and saw it was Oil of Olay body wash. He opened the box
and
found a pink plastic scrubbie and a tube of liquid soap. He
experimentally
poured some in his palm. It was thick, not quite a gel, and had a
fragrant
smell. Feeling a bit self-conscious at using something so obviously
feminine, he poured some on the scrubbie and began washing himself.
The
liquid foamed up to a thick lather as soon as he started working it
over
his body. He couldn't help but luxuriate in the feeling of the warm
suds
sliding all over his skin. He rubbed his breasts, gently massaging
them,
enjoying the sensual feelings so much that he slipped into almost a
hypnotic state. After several minutes he realized what he was doing
and
reluctantly stopped. Now overly self-conscious about the feelings he
was
arousing, he finished washing as quickly as possible. When it came
time to
wash his pussy he perfunctorily made a couple quick swipes through his
pubic hair, and figured that was good enough. 

Once he'd washed all over, he dunked himself up to his chin to rinse
off,
then stepped out of the tub. There was a slick sheen of residue
covering
his entire body. He assumed this was the moisturizing agent in the
body
wash. It didn't bother him, on the contrary it felt pretty good. His
skin
seemed even softer than before the bath. He stroked his skin, savoring
the
feeling of being clean and fresh. He grabbed a towel and rubbed
himself
mostly dry, wrapped it around himself and went out to find Cathy. 

Once in the bedroom, Cathy had Bob finish drying off then she
proceeded to
dress him as if he were a mannequin. She had him stand in the middle
of
the room where she had room to move around. She directed him to face
the
dresser mirror and said, "You'll need to learn to do all this yourself
if
you spend much time in this body, but we've got lots to do to get
ready
tonight so just relax and let me help."

First she pulled out a tiny bit of black fabric and handed it to Bob.
He
looked at it a moment, completely confused. 

"They're panties, silly. Put them on. Make sure you get the little
cotton
strip in the front, that's supposed to go over your crotch." 

Hesitantly Bob pulled the tiny panties up his legs. The material was
slippery satin except for a small patch of cotton lining sewn on the
inside right where it would lay against his pussy. The leg openings
were
cut very high on the sides, with thin elastic straps that rode above
his
hips, then dipped down in front to support a tiny swatch which barely
covered his pubic hair. The back was nothing more than a strip that
slipped between the cheeks of his ass - butt floss as he used to call
it
when he and his male buddies would critique the photo spread in the
latest
Playboy. He felt uncomfortable and overly conscious of the strip
riding
between his ass cheeks and had to constantly resist the urge to tug at
them and adjust how they fit at his butt.

Cathy watched him a moment, squirming and clenching his ass muscles.
She
grinned devilishly and teased, "Kind of feels like having a wedgie
doesn't
it? It's called a thong, Robyn. We don't want any pantylines showing
under
that sexy dress, now do we?" 

Next she took a black satin bra and wrapped it around him, hooking it
in
the back. It was a strapless type, with half cups that pushed his
breasts
together and upwards. It felt strange, a little uncomfortable and
constrictive around his chest, but his breasts also felt restrained
and
supported, less bobbly. 

"I got you a size 34-D. I think you're a bit large for a C cup like I
wear
now. The style with these little half cups is called a demi cup. This
strapless version is only for evening wear, so you won't have to worry
about your bra strap showing. It's not as comfy as a regular bra but
it's
the price we pay for elegance. You'll get used to it, Robyn." Cathy
cheerfully explained, as she tugged on the bra to get it adjusted just
so.

Bob was beginning to feel a bit overwhelmed by all the little fashion
lessons Cathy delivered with each new article of clothing. He also
noticed
she seemed insistent on calling him 'Robyn' even though they were in
private now. 

Cathy reached round from behind and circled his waist with a black
lace
garter belt. The elastic material hugged his waist just at the level
of
his navel with four suspender straps dangling down onto the swell of
his
hips. Bob didn't offer any complaint as she snapped it closed in back,
he
felt totally drained of resistance.

 "Garter belts can be a real pain at times, Robyn. They're so awkward
and
inconvenient. But we have to remember how sexy men think they look on
a
girl." Cathy winked at him in the mirror.

"Now sit on the bed and put these on," she handed him a package of
black
thigh highs. "Be careful. You need to bunch them up at the toe and
slide
them up your legs slowly, kind of tugging them into place as you go.
But
not too hard or you'll snag them."

Bob did as he was told, carefully sliding the nylons up his legs. His
long
fingernails made the task more difficult. He was still getting used to
how
he had to grip things with the pads of his fingers instead of the
tips,
and he was a little disturbed to notice how it tended to make his
gestures
appear more feminine, 'swishy' even. Weird how even the simplest
things
were so different for a woman. Once he finished smoothing the little
wrinkles out the hosiery fit snugly, clinging tightly along the entire
length of his leg, yet at the same time it was insubstantially thin
and
almost seemed to heighten the sensitivity of his legs. It was a very
sensuous feeling when he slid one leg against the other.

Cathy noticed how he slowly ran his hands up from his ankles to the
tops
of his stockings when he was finished. She smiled knowingly. "They
feel
sexy, don't they, Robyn? Even though they're a bother and you're lucky
if
you get more than two days' wear before they run, they still make you
feel
sexy as hell. And if you like the way they feel now, just wait till
you
try making love with nylons on Robyn." She laughed as Bob blushed
crimson
at that notion.

"Okay, stand up and hook up the garter straps," Cathy ordered. She
pulled
the suspender straps through the leg openings of Bob's panties before
clamping each stocking top with the garter's little sliding tab and
loop
arrangement. Bob hadn't given it a lot of thought before but he was
smart
enough to realize this allowed him to remove his panties to use the
bathroom without undoing the garters.

Cathy now took Bob by his hand and led him over to his desk. "Sit
down,
I'll fix your hair in a few minutes. But first I'm going to try on
_my_
party outfit. While I'm dressing, you can do your nails." 

Bob looked up at her in amazement. He thought he had been incredibly
good-natured to go along with her crazy plan up to now. To his mind he
was
being done up like a whore on payday. But expecting him to put on nail
polish seemed to be going way too far. But there was Cathy standing
over
him, holding out a little bottle of bright pink enamel. He took it
from
her numbly and read the label: "Revlon Hushabye Rose". 

"That color's perfect for you, don't you think Robyn? Now you need to
be
patient to get your nails just right, it's not as easy as you might
think.
You'll probably have an easier time of it if you rest your palm flat
on
the desk to keep steady. First put on a coat of clear polish, that'll
smooth out any ridges in your nails. Then put on a couple coats of the
pink. Be careful or you'll make a mess. Don't try to use too much at
once
cause it'll blob and won't dry right. A nice thin even coat looks
best.
And make sure you let each coat dry properly before you start on the
next." 

Cathy had accompanied her advice with a collection of clear polish,
polish
remover, cotton balls, an emery board and a nail buffer which she set
out
on the desk in front of him. Then she gathered several of her packages
up
in her arms and walked into the bathroom. After a bit Bob heard the
shower
running.

Bob briefly thought about rebelling, but he worried that Cathy might
follow through on her threat not to help him change back. Then he
figured
what the hell. Women do stuff like this all the time, and even though
he
might feel like he was a man wearing drag he sure didn't look like a
man.
He might as well go along with Cathy and keep her happy. She seemed
determined that he get fully into the role, at least for tonight.
Well, he
thought philosophically, he was getting a unique opportunity to see
how
the other half lived. So he bent over the desk and began painstakingly
applying polish to his long nails while Cathy got herself ready in the
bathroom. 

As he worked on his nails, he thought about everything that had
happened
today. God, it was only a few hours ago that he woke up as a woman.
Now
here he sat in sexy underthings painting his nails pink! Everything
was so
different for a woman - more different than he'd have ever imagined.
And
it seemed likely he was going to have to spend more than a little time
in
this body. The more he thought about his situation, the more he
realized
he knew next to nothing about women. He thought about how it felt when
he
touched his new body. How he'd felt when Brad was looking at him so...
hungrily. How weird it felt to suddenly break down in tears. 

By this time the shower had stopped running. "Cathy?" he called
tentatively across the hall, "I'm not sure if this makes sense but I
was
wondering how you feel being a woman?"

"I dunno," she stuck her head in the door, "Normal, I guess. I've
never
been anything else."

"I know. It's just that... well, I've been feeling really strange all
day
long."

She laughed. "Gee, Bob, I can't imagine why? I mean isn't switching
bodies
something you do every day?"

"No, no. I'm serious. It's weird as hell having an entirely different
body. But I meant other things. At first I thought it might be shock,
or
stress, like my mind is having trouble dealing with this body. But
it's
not like that, it's more an antsy feeling. I've felt anxious and kind
of
frustrated all day long - sort of a standing in line at the DMV kind
of
feeling. Then it's like I've got no control over my emotions, the
least
little thing sets me off. I broke down crying _twice_ today, and I've
never done that before. Is it like that for you? Is that something I
have
to learn to live with?"

"Bob... no, not Bob -- Robyn. Robyn, girlfriend, it sounds to me like
you're having your first case of PMS."

"Huh?" Bob couldn't believe this was happening to him.

"Frustrated. Weepy. Just feeling pissy in general. Classic signs.
How's
your boobs? Are they tender? Do you feel anything like abdominal
cramps?"

Bob considered how he felt, physically. "No... nothing like that."

"Wait a day or so. I'm betting you're pms-ing. We'll have to pick you
up
something at the drug store just in case."

"Oh God! You can't be serious?!" Bob wailed.

"Chill, Robyn. It's no big deal. Sure it's an inconvenience but half
the
planet has learned to live with it. You're not alone, girl."

For the first time, the reality of his situation was sinking in. The
idea
that he was about to start his period seemed to hit Bob like a
speeding
truck. It was like waking from a dream only to find that the dream was
real. He was a girl. He was going to have periods. He could get
pregnant.
He could get raped. God, he never felt so vulnerable, so totally
helpless.

"Cathy... You said you didn't know how long it could take to
reconstruct
that spell, without the Grimoire. Weeks, maybe. I'm going to be like
this
for weeks. I'm going to need help... learning how to live... how to
live
as a woman. Will you help me? Teach me how to live in this body?"

Cathy heard the desperation in his voice. The indecision she'd felt
earlier at the mall over how to handle Bob's problems completely
resolved
itself in her mind. For better or worse, Bob was female for the
foreseeable future. She would help him accept this fact and teach him
to
be the best woman he possibly could.

"Robyn hon, I've already started. Why do you think I stopped calling
you
'Bob'? But you need to help too. You've got to go with the flow, stop
getting all weirded out every time I ask you to try something
feminine.
Just relax and leave everything up to me for a while. I think we'll
have
fun too, you'll see."

"Okay Cathy. I'm Robyn for the duration. 'Bob' is gone fishing and we
won't be hearing from him till we're ready to get him back."

"That's the spirit girlfriend! Now, let me see how you're doing on
your
manicure and you can tell me what you think about my outfit."

Robyn turned around to see Cathy model her new clothes. She had on a
charcoal gray sleeveless body suit. The knit fabric covered her from
neck
to ankles but was so clingy it left nothing to the imagination. Every
curve of her body was faithfully traced - you could even see the
slight
bulge where her pubic mound swelled gently outward from the flatness
of
her abdomen. She wore a pair of suede ankle boots with four inch heels
that raised her to a truly imposing height. A black leather rope-like
belt, coiled around her three times, clasped with an ornate silver
buckle,
rode low on her hips emphasizing her slim waist. Her only jewelry was
a
silver and onyx bracelet on one hand and a pair of black onyx earrings
carved in the shape of corkscrews that dangled an inch and a half down
from her earlobes. The overall effect was breathtaking.

"Oh Cathy!" Robyn gasped. She'd never seen her dress so sexy before.
"I
love it!"

Cathy was aglow. She checked herself out in the mirror, for the first
time
in her life completely satisfied with her reflection. Not that she
hated
her old body, just that she looked so perfect now. "Thanks, Robyn. I
love
it too! I look pretty damn hot if I do say so myself. Watch out Greg
Ewing
cause here I come."

Robyn giggled at Cathy's impression of a femme fatale. Briefly she
felt a
flash of envy for this Greg person, but she firmly rejected that
thought.
She wasn't a man in competition for Cathy's affection anymore, she was
her
friend Robyn - her girlfriend Robyn. "You can't miss, Cathy. Take it
from
someone who knows, no man alive could resist you in that outfit."

"Let's hope not." Cathy allowed herself a last look in the mirror then
turned to Robyn. "Okay, how're you coming with your nails? We still
have
to get your hair done and get you into that dress."

Cathy had been right when she said polishing her nails was harder than
it
looked. As they'd been talking she'd carefully done her nails - twice.
Doing her left hand hadn't been all that difficult, since she was
right
handed. But when she started on her right hand Robyn botched a nail,
making a gloppy tacky mess. She used a cotton ball soaked with remover
to
blot up the mess. Once the nail was clean, she saw that her whole left
hand was ruined because she'd foolishly handled the remover-soaked
cotton.
So she did both hands over again, being very cautious not to repeat
her
mistakes. Now she gently blew on them to dry the final coat. She felt
proud at how well she'd managed - weird considering she nearly blew a
fuse
when Cathy first handed her the polish. As Bob she'd loved long sexy
nails, which was why hers were so long of course, and they looked even
better with a gleaming coat of polish. A professional manicurist could
have done better, but she'd done a respectable job. She held her hands
up
for Cathy to see and wiggled her fingers.

"Perfect, Robyn. Your hands are so delicate and that shade goes well
on a
blonde. Be careful not to touch them for a bit, you don't want to
leave a
fingerprint and ruin the gloss. Now let's do your hair. Turn around
and
hold your head up straight."

Robyn obeyed, staring at the wall while Cathy undid the kerchief and
worked at her hair with a brush. She pulled it back and did it up in a
French twist at the back of her head, using quite a few bobby pins to
secure it. Then she turned her around and used a rattail to pull
several
strands free around the front of her face. These tendrils she twisted
into
corkscrews that dangled from her temples. She finished everything off
with
a light spritz of hairspray. When Robyn saw herself in the mirror she
couldn't believe how different she looked. Instead of long tousled
bedroom
hair she had an upswept elegant coiffure, artfully disarrayed with
spiral
tendrils framing her face. She felt air moving at the nape of her neck
for
the first time since waking, and couldn't resist turning her head from
side to side to admire her new look, noting how it drew attention to
her
long swan-like neck.

"Okay, time to put on your dress." Cathy interrupted her study of her
new
hairstyle.

Cathy held out the slipdress, motioning for Robyn to extend her arms.
She
slipped the straps over Robyn's arms and carefully slid the dress over
her
head and let it fall down onto her body. She arranged the bodice a
bit,
then turned Robyn about and zipped her up. The dress fit perfectly. It
draped from her shoulders by two tiny straps, revealing the upper
curve of
her breasts. The bodice was gently fitted and smoothly flowed down to
the
waist which was narrowed but didn't cling then flared at her hips to a
flippy loose skirt which fell a daring six inches above her knees,
barely
covering her stocking tops. The material was soft feather-light silk
in
midnight black, classically simple, totally unadorned.

Cathy handed her a shoe box. Robyn noted they were size 6 before she
opened the box. Inside was a pair of black confections with stiletto
heels. They were little more than a curved piece of leather to rest
her
sole on with a collection of tiny straps intended to crisscross over
her
toes and a little strap to slip over her heel. Uncertain if she could
walk
in them, she slipped them on her feet. The heels were about three
inches,
which was quite high for her tiny stature. She shakily took a few
steps
and looked over at Cathy, grinning broadly.

"Wow, I feel like I could break an ankle," she joked.

She really did feel very unstable in the shoes. They strained her
arches
and she found she needed to change the way she walked, balancing more
on
the balls of her feet and taking shorter steps. But she was determined
to
get used to them. A part of her was beginning to feel pride in how she
looked as a woman rather than being freaked out by the thought that
she
was dressing and acting like a girl. She remembered how much she loved
seeing women in heels when she was a man. She wanted to look that good
herself.

"Takes getting used to, Robyn. Be careful, don't try any complicated
dance
steps, but it'll come to you as you get practice. Now for the
finishing
touches."

Cathy gave Robyn a tube of 'Nearly Nude' sheer pink lipstick, a
delicate
gold chain with a tiny heart, a longer gold necklace with heart
pendant, a
black satin clutch purse, a pair of gold hoop earrings, and a black
satin
elastic band. Robyn put the necklace on, but when she started to
fasten
the smaller chain on her wrist Cathy stopped her.

"No, that's for your ankle. Dressing is all in the details, Robyn. The
elastic band is a scrunchie, normally you put it in your hair to hold
a
ponytail. But tonight put it on your wrist, it gives you just the
right
fun kind of look to offset the rest of your outfit - we're going to a
bar,
after all, not an embassy reception. Besides, you'll have it handy in
case
you have a hair emergency... or you wake up in a strange bed and don't
want to be seen in public with evening hair on the morning after."
Cathy
teased.

Robyn blushed, she was trying to adjust to being a girl but the
thought of
having sex was still something she wanted to put off for now. She
slipped
the scrunchie on her right wrist, fastened the anklet on her opposite
leg.
Then she looked at the gold hoops. "They're for pierced ears."

"Your ears _are_ pierced, Robyn. I noticed this morning, err..
afternoon,
when we were measuring each other. You must have imagined your fantasy
girl with hoops. Here, let me help."

Cathy took the earrings and tilted Robyn's face to the side. Robyn
felt a
tug on her earlobe then a weight. Cathy repeated the process for her
other
ear. The hoops were large, about two inches in diameter and Robyn
could
feel their weight pulling at her ears and felt them brush her neck
whenever she moved her head. 

Cathy then put her fingers beneath Robyn's chin and gently raised her
face
upwards. She uncapped the lipstick and carefully applied it. Robyn had
full sensuous lips resembling Jeanne Triplehorn's, which they should
since
Bob had been thinking of the actress when he pictured the perfect
mouth.
Cathy handed her a tissue and told her to blot. She placed the tissue
in
her mouth and gently pressed her lips together as she'd seen other
women
do. The tissue now bore a perfect imprint of her sexy lips in light
pink.

Finally Cathy produced a small perfume atomizer and sprayed Robyn's
neck
and between her breasts. Then she sprayed a few squirts into the air
and
motioned Robyn to step into the little cloud. Robyn felt tiny droplets
touch her skin and was enveloped in the feminine fragrance. 

"You smell so sexy now," Cathy said. She tucked the perfume, lipstick,
and
a small brush and comb into the clutch purse and handed it Robyn. She
studied Robyn's face a moment, critically assessing her handiwork. "We
won't bother with your eyes for tonight. You're enough of a natural
beauty
not to need a lot of makeup. Sometime maybe we can make a day of it
and
get makeovers from a skin and color consultant so you can learn how
best
to enhance your features. I've never used much makeup myself and I'd
probably not be a lot of help. But it's fun once in a while to get
really
done up. Same as dressing up, Robyn. You'll see. Jeans are much more
comfortable but you feel so good when you look special."

Robyn's stomach growled, interrupting their conversation. Cathy heard
it
and smiled. "Wow. What with everything that's happened today I've been
too
excited to eat."

"Me too. I haven't had a thing all day." Robyn said.

"We can stop for something on the way. I guess we're ready to go now."
Cathy handed Robyn a large black silk scarf with thin white piping
tracing
an abstract pattern. "It's chilly, wear this around your shoulders.
You'll
need it."

They spared a few moments for a final check in the mirror. Both of
them
could barely believe that the image staring back was their own
reflection.
Each was a vision of sexy womanhood that would make any man rock hard
with
desire.

Finally, Robyn wrapped herself in the scarf, enjoying the slippery
feel of
the silk on her bare arms. Cathy slipped into a short jacket that
matched
her body suit, grabbed up her purse and ushered Robyn out the door.

*****

"I'm shivering, it's freezing out there!" Robyn said as they stood in
line
at McDonald's. She had goosebumps from the chill November evening. She
had
never been so sensitive to cold before. Just one more change she
needed to
get used to.

"When we get to the 'Trap you'll warm up. Get out on the dance floor
and
you'll work up some heat." 

Robyn was silent. In a little while she'd be at the most popular
singles
spot on campus. As a girl. A very sexy girl. Fair game for all the
horny
guys who hung out in places like that, looking for one thing. She was
feeling a mixture of excitement, anticipation, and fear. Even here in
the
restaurant she sensed guys looking at her. She and Cathy had created a
mini sensation when they arrived. They were far sexier than the
average
customer and nearly every eye in the place was focused on them. She
was
unaccustomed to feeling so exposed, overly self-conscious, and not
sure
she liked all the attention she was getting.

When they reached the front of the line to place their orders Robyn
was
starving. Through long habit she started to ask for three
quarterpounders,
but Cathy interrupted and ordered them each one sandwich and a coke.
Once
seated in a booth Robyn found she felt bloated before she even
finished
all her food. She put her half-eaten burger down.

"I guess my appetite's shrunk to match my body" she said.

"Better keep reminding yourself that lots of things have changed,
Robyn.
You don't want to slip up and try to use the Men's room by mistake -
you
might give some guy a thrill. Anyway, if you're ready let's go. It's
time
to break some hearts!"

Still feeling some lingering misgivings, Robyn slowly stood and
followed
Cathy out the door, teetering slightly in her high heels.

TO BE CONTINUED...


Subject: New TG: Class Project chapter 5 (magic trans)
From: jandreams@aol.com (Jan Dreams)
Date: 29 Oct 1995 16:05:33 -0500
Message-ID: <470qat$kuk@newsbf02.news.aol.com>

Hi everyone,

Here's the next chapter in Robyn's saga. Most of the preliminary
'gender
shock' of discovery was dealt with in earlier chapters so now the plot
can
start to progress. Hopefully I'll have the next segment ready for
uploading in a week or so. I welcome any and all comments, I'm curious
to
see what people think of this. Flames will be ignored.

Disclaimers seem silly, but necessary I suppose. This work is intended
for
adults only. This is a work of _fiction_ and if you can't deal with
that
then get a life.  Permission granted to distribute electronically, but
please don't try to make money off my effort -- write your own.

Enjoy!


The Class Project
by Janice Dreamer

Chapter 5


It was after ten when Robyn and Cathy made their way into the entrance
to
the MouseTrap. The club was filling fast and the sound of loud music
throbbed in the air. 

"Two, please." 

Cathy handed the bouncer a twenty for the cover charge, then showed
him
her driver's license. He checked her birth date then stamped the back
of
her hand. Then Robyn stepped up and extended her arm to be stamped.

The bouncer looked her over critically then said, "ID?"

Cathy interrupted before Robyn could open her mouth, "My friend forgot
her
license, okay?"

He shook his head. "Sorry, miss. Can't let you in without proof of
age."

"Don't be silly!" Cathy blustered, "Anybody can see she's old enough."

"Look lady, I've seen high school kids who make themselves up to look
older than your friend here. I'm sorry. Club policy, no ID no
admittance.
It's out of my hands." 

"Cathy, let's just go..." Robyn whined. She felt self-conscious enough
dressed like she was, now they were drawing even more attention to
themselves. She started to back towards the exit.

Cathy grabbed Robyn's arm, preventing her from leaving. She was
determined
to get inside to meet Greg. "No. We're here to have some fun, Robyn!"
she
turned back to the bouncer and smiled ingratiatingly, "Aw, come on.
Give
us a break. She's twenty-three."

The bouncer was trying to hand Cathy back her money when Brad
appeared.
He'd been watching the scene unfold from the bar. "Robyn! Hi! I'm glad
you
made it." He appreciatively looked Robyn up and down and whistled
softly.
"Wow. I thought you were gorgeous when I met you this afternoon but I
gotta say you really clean up damn fabulous. Wait here while I call
Playboy to tell them I just captured an escaped Playmate."

Robyn felt herself go all shy and awkward under Brad's teasing
attention.
"Um... hi Brad." she mumbled, eyes downcast.

Brad nodded to Cathy, received no response from her other than a cold
stare. He shrugged it off and waved to the club's entrance. "Shall we,
ladies?"

Robyn said "Um... we can't."

"Oh? Is there a problem, Johnny?" Brad asked the bouncer, his tone
indicating a friendly familiarity.

"Yeah, your friend says she forgot her ID" 

"It's okay. I'll vouch for Robyn," Brad patted the bouncer on his
shoulder, then shook his hand. Robyn couldn't be certain, but she
thought
she saw Brad slide a bill into the bouncer's palm. "I've been coming
here
a long time, and I've always treated you right, haven't I Johnny?"

"Well, I really shouldn't, Mr. Franklin..." the bouncer hesitated a
moment,
his eyes flickered down at what was in his hand. Then he slipped the
hand
into his pocket and continued as if granting a major concession,
"...but if
you say she's over twenty-one then I guess I can let her in just this
once. But next time she better have ID"

"Thanks!" Cathy exclaimed in relief to the bouncer, then looked warily
at
Brad, "And thank you, Brad."

Robyn held her hand out to be stamped, then said shyly "Thanks Brad. I
really appreciate this..."

"No problem, girls. Why don't you let me buy you a drink?" Brad
gestured
toward the bar.

"Thanks, but you've already done so much" Cathy demurred, "And we
promised
someone we'd meet them here..." she craned her neck, scanning the
crowded
club. Then before Brad could object, she grabbed Robyn by her wrist
and
pulled her off into the dimly lit interior of the club. 

Out of the corner of her eyes, Robyn glimpsed guys tracking their
progress
as she and Cathy walked across the room. Heads swiveled to follow them
as
if attached by invisible leads. Several times she saw someone point at
them and lean over to say something to a friend. As Bob, he studiously
ignored any stares from people - he assumed anyone who looked at him
was
doing so out of morbid fascination, repulsed by his gross body. The
stares
she was getting now, as Robyn, were entirely different. She felt
overly
displayed by the tiny dress she wore, and was very self-consciously
aware
of what was probably going through their minds. But also, she felt a
weird
kind of pride - that she was attracting so much attention gave her a
little thrill.

Cathy must have sensed the same watchful eyes on them. She leaned over
and
giggled into Robyn's ear, "Did you see those guys checking us out? Get
ready for some fun tonight!"

Robyn looked at her horrified, "Cathy! I'm beginning to think this
wasn't
such a good idea."

"Oh, relax Robyn. Loosen up and have some fun. You'd have turned me
into a
walking wet dream, except it backfired on you. So now you're the one
all
the guys are sniffing after. Why not make the best of the situation?
Now's
your chance to really find out what that's all about. Here, let's grab
this table - we're right out where everybody can see what we've got to
offer." Cathy steered Robyn to a table out near the dance floor. Robyn
would have preferred sitting further back where the lighting was lower
and
she didn't feel so much like she was on display.

A waitress appeared, interrupting Cathy's little lecture. She was all
business, barely even smiling. She knew from long experience that two
women alone in a place like this would nurse their drinks all night
until
some guy cut them out of the herd. Any tip would be minimal. The best
customers were always the lonely single guys hoping to impress her.
She
even preferred a group out partying over a couple of women, partyers
might
run her ass ragged but they usually pooled their cash and left a
decent
tip.

"What'll it be, girls?" the waitress asked.

Despite Cathy's advice to just go with the flow, Robyn was all but
trembling she was so nervous. She needed something to calm her down.
Cathy
was right when she said she needed to loosen up.

"I'll have a tequila shooter. A double." 

"Whoa! Now that's the way to party, Robyn! I'll have one too. And
bring us
a couple beers with that." Cathy said.

The waitress walked off to get their orders and Cathy scanned the
crowd.
She didn't see Greg anywhere. She glanced back at Robyn and saw her
fiddling with a coaster, too nervous to look at the other people in
the
bar for fear of seeming to encourage them. She reached over and put
her
hand on Robyn's, halting her nervous twiddling.

Cathy leaned over and spoke directly in her ear above the roar of the
music. "Hey. You don't have anything to be afraid of. Every guy in
this
place is probably more scared of approaching you than you are of them.
You
aren't some nerd trying to fit in any more. Now it's the other way
around.
People will be trying to impress _you_, hoping to win _your_ approval.
You're _beautiful_ Robyn. Enjoy it. Party on girl. Learn what it is to
be
beautiful and have guys chasing after you. And if somebody tries
something
you don't like, tell 'em to go fuck themselves. It's your choice." 

Robyn looked at her and smiled. Cathy made sense. She looked the part
so
why not enjoy it. See what it felt like to be popular. Experiment with
some of the things that always used to make Bob envious about pretty
women
and how they seemed to get away with murder.

The waitress returned with their drinks and Cathy paid her. Then they
grinned at each other, clinked their glasses together and gulped.
Robyn's
whole body shuddered. She felt the liquor burn its way down her throat
and
curl up in a warm pool in her stomach. She blinked back tears, grabbed
her
beer and took a quick swallow. Her reaction was a bit of a surprise.
She
used to be able to do a shot and hardly even feel it. She'd have to be
careful tonight.

"Whew! Sssmooth." She choked. Both of them broke out in peals of
laughter.

"C'mon Robyn. Let's hit the dance floor." Cathy urged her to her feet.

Robyn cautiously followed Cathy out onto the hardwood square. She was
still unsteady in her heels. There weren't all that many people
dancing
this early in the evening so she didn't need to worry about bumping
into
anyone. Cathy started moving to the music and Robyn tentatively tried
to
imitate her. In all Bob's 23 years he'd never before been on a dance
floor, he'd never even gotten up the nerve to ask anyone to dance.
This
was another thing about women she'd envied -- their unself-conscious
ability to dance with each other or alone, something two guys would
never
try in a million years. Women were more naturally exhibitionistic she
thought, maybe it was the wild styles of clothes, or maybe some
evolutionary thing that drove them to draw attention to themselves,
but
Robyn was beginning to suspect the real reason women seemed to display
themselves so readily was just that men were _always_ watching. It was
going to take a real effort to forget her shyness, ignore all the
stares,
and just let herself be natural.

They danced through several songs. Robyn found that if she just let
her
mind focus on the music she didn't feel quite so self-conscious. She
began
to feel the beat of the music and just let her body move. It was fun.
She
felt energized and lighthearted. As she danced, Robyn caught an
occasional
glimpse of Brad over at the bar watching her, but he didn't approach.
Several guys watched them closely while they danced, their eyes
following
every move. Checking them out, smiling suggestively. Robyn smiled
back.

Finally Cathy dragged her back to their table. She was breathing a bit
heavy but not winded yet, feeling warm from the exercise and the
tequila.
They sat and sipped their beers to cool off. Then a couple of guys
were at
their table. They asked if they needed refills and Cathy gestured for
them
to sit down.

Robyn nervously looked them over. They were big football types. Seemed
arrogant, she thought. They introduced themselves but Robyn's dazed
mind
didn't catch their names. The guys tried to make small talk while
signaling for the waitress to come over. Bragging about their chances
to
go to a bowl game or some such shit they thought would impress Robyn
and
Cathy.

Cathy leaned across the table and said, "Robyn? Do you need to go to
the
Ladies'?"

Robyn shook her head, she would need to use the restroom eventually
but
she wanted to delay it until absolutely necessary.

Cathy rolled her eyes, flashed her an exasperated look and said, "Well
_I_
need to."

"Oh? ... Oh!" Robyn suddenly got the hint. She smiled to herself as
she
thought this was her introduction to the time honored female tradition
of
going to the Ladies' Room in a herd. "Okay, let's go." 

When they got inside both stalls were occupied and one other girl was
waiting ahead of them. Cathy looked in the mirror and fussed with her
hair. "Those two are dorks, Robyn. Let's ditch them, okay?"

Robyn was relieved. "I couldn't agree more, Cathy! I wasn't the one
who
asked them to sit down in the first place. I was afraid you liked
them."

"Get out!" Cathy feigned astonishment. "They're kind of cute but as
soon
as they opened their mouths' you could see all the way to their
assholes."

Robyn laughed. She was tentatively trying to touch up her lipstick and
Cathy's comment almost made her ruin it.

"So when we get back, I'll think up some excuse. Then you just follow
my
lead okay?"

Robyn nodded agreement.

When the stalls were free, they used the toilets. Despite her worries,
Robyn didn't have any problems - it wasn't all that different than
it'd
been as a man, except she had to sit down, and remember to wipe
herself
instead of shaking it dry. More inconvenient was all.

They got back to the table and found the waitress had already brought
them
fresh beers. They sat and smiled awkwardly in thanks. The bigger of
the
two guys started to tell a story about their last away game. Robyn
sipped
her beer and stared at the table in boredom. Cathy distractedly
scanned
the crowd. Suddenly she let out a little squeal of delight and was out
of
her seat in an instant.

"It's Greg! Robyn, hang on just one minute, okay? I'll be right back.
Just
wait one sec." Cathy babbled excitedly before she walked off across
the
room.

Robyn uncomfortably sat and watched as Cathy ran up and hugged a guy
over
near the bar. He wasn't bad looking, Robyn thought. The way she hugged
him, she figured he must be Greg and not part of a plan to dump the
two
jocks. Robyn's heart skipped a beat when she lost sight of them in the
crowd. She fervently hoped Cathy didn't forget her in her excitement
and
leave her stranded here.

The awkward silence that had fallen when Cathy suddenly ran off
stretched
on for several minutes and still she hadn't returned. Robyn couldn't
stand
it any longer. She gathered up her purse and shawl and Cathy's things
and
stood up.

"Guys... I'm sorry, but I better go find my friend... um... thanks for
the
beer..." Robyn nervously mumbled.

The football players had been sullenly drinking their beers, their
faces
clouding up with anger. Now that Robyn appeared to be about to leave
them
too, one of them stood up. He was absolutely huge. He loomed over her
by
more than a foot. He reached across the table and grabbed her arm,
circling her wrist in one large hand, not roughly but firm enough that
she
couldn't pull away.

"Aww, c'mon honey. She'll be back, she left her stuff. Why don't let's
dance?" he said. He sounded drunker than he appeared.

Robyn tried to pull her arm back but he tightened his grip. His arm
might
as well have been made of stone for all she could move it. She began
to
feel real fear, he could do anything to her and she was powerless to
prevent it. "Ow! That hurts! Let go of my arm!" she pleaded, hating
how
weak she felt and how whiney she sounded.

He didn't release her, instead he began pulling her toward the dance
floor. "Jus' one dance, babe. Then you can go."

Robyn's struggles were totally in vain. Inexorably she was forced
towards
the dance floor. She was overwhelmed by fear and frustration and felt
her
eyes welling, a tear rolled down her cheek. Then suddenly the football
player stopped pulling her along and stood still facing Brad who was
standing there blocking his way.

"Let her go, Johnson." Brad said calmly.

"Aw, c'mon man. What do you care? I was just having some fun. The
bitch
got me to buy her a beer and then she was gonna dump me." 

"She's a friend of mine, Johnson. Let her go."

"Shit! Franklin if we weren't fraternity brothers I'd bust your ass." 

"Just leave her alone. I'll pay for the beer. Chill out, man, okay?"
Brad
reached for his wallet.

"Forget it, man. One beer. You can owe me. Stuck up bitch anyway."
Johnson
waved off Brad's money.

"Hey Johnson, I think I saw Becky Moore at the bar. She's hot for you,
bud." Brad mentioned one of the cheerleaders who had a rather
legendary
reputation.

Johnson released Robyn's wrist and mumbled, "Uh... too many beers, I
guess.
Sorry, I didn't mean anything."
 
Robyn rubbed her wrist then irritatedly brushed the tears off her
cheeks.
"It's okay... forget it." She said sullenly.

Johnson gave a halfhearted wave, then went to rejoin his partner and
they
both walked over to the bar. When he was gone Brad heaved a sigh and
joked. "Sad thing about Johnson. Too many steroids I think. Must have
gotten to his brain."

Robyn laughed, feeling immensely relieved. "Thanks Brad. That's twice
you've saved me."

*****

Robyn was swaying gently in Brad's arms. The deejay was playing a slow
song. They'd already danced several songs together. Cathy had returned
shortly after the incident with Johnson and claimed her jacket and
purse
from Robyn. Through mutual agreement they had separated into two
couples.
Cathy with Greg, had gone off to a corner somewhere to relive old
memories. Robyn and Brad ordered new drinks and talked and danced,
getting
to know one another.

Robyn pressed her cheek to Brad's chest. Dancing close like this
evoked
strange feelings in her new body. She felt tiny next to Brad, but not
afraid like she'd felt when Johnson grabbed her. His arms around her
felt
secure, safe, not menacing. Even in heels her head was below his eye
level, so it was natural to rest her cheek on his chest. And it made
her
feel good.

"Robyn?" Brad whispered, his breath stirring in her hair. "I'm glad I
ran
out of ice today."

"So am I."

She looked up at his face. He stopped moving to the music and held her
still. His expression grew serious. Slowly, watching her face closely
for
any sign of rejection, he lowered his mouth towards hers.

Robyn felt dizzy, as if the world were receding from her in all
directions. She stared up at Brad as he slowly leaned over her, his
lips
growing nearer. She closed her eyes, feeling her heart hammering in
her
chest. Ever so gently his lips brushed hers, tenderly warm and soft,
then
drew back. She felt his fingers touch her cheek, his hand cupping her
face. After a slight pause, his lips lightly touched hers again and
then
again. Tiny butterfly kisses lingering only a moment before
retreating,
leaving her lips empty and wanting, yearning for the next contact.
Almost
involuntarily her lips parted just the barest fraction and she tasted
his
warm breath. He tentatively probed her mouth with his tongue. She felt
an
electric thrill as their warm wet flesh touched. She reached up
clasping
the back of his head in her hand, feeling his thick hair against her
palm.
He slid his tongue in further past her lips, gliding slick and
slippery
over her own tongue. Deliciously, languorously their tongues danced
together in her mouth. For a brief instant the thought flickered
across
her mind that she should feel strange kissing a man, but it felt so
wonderful she didn't worry about it. So this is kissing, she thought
rapturously.

Her body was on fire. She felt her nipples stiffen and her pussy began
to
tingle. Her knees felt weak, but she was so secure in Brad's arms. He
was
so powerful, his muscles felt firm and strong underneath his skin. She
pressed herself against him, feeling her breasts yielding to the
firmness
of his chest. She arched her body into him, surreptitiously rubbing
her
crotch against his. He was hard, she could feel the heat and firmness
straining against her through his jeans. She felt as if she wanted to
touch him everywhere, feel him enfold her, feel him inside her. God,
she
couldn't believe how wondrously excited she was.

He pulled back from her lips after a time and nibbled her ear, sliding
his
tongue along the sensitive skin behind her lobe. She shivered in
delight
and arched her neck like a cat. He slid his mouth and tongue down from
her
ear tracing the tendon of her neck and planted a feather-light kiss at
the
base of her throat. Then his mouth rose back up to meet hers and took
her
lower lip gently between his teeth, pulling at it tenderly and
sucking.
She giggled against his mouth and slithered her tongue out to trace
his
upper lip, briefly touched the smooth hardness of his teeth. He
released
her lip and planted a firm yet brief kiss on her mouth. He pulled his
head
back and smiled down into her upturned face.

"Mmmm. Robyn, let's go sit down," he said hoarsely.

She nodded and he led her off to the table, holding her hand.

*****

They sat close together in a dark corner of the club and kissed and
touched each other, occasionally sipping their drinks. Robyn didn't
flinch
at all when Brad slipped his arm around her waist. She just smiled
contentedly and cuddled closer. For an indeterminate time they kissed
and
caressed each other while their surroundings faded away. She didn't
hear
the noise or see the other people in the bar, she was in her own
private
universe with Brad. She could really get used to this! How much of
life
she'd missed out on up to now. Until tonight she hadn't lived at all.
She
never wanted the night to end.

"Robyn! There you are, I've been looking all over." Cathy's voice
brought
her back to reality. "Greg and I are leaving. We'll drop you off on
our
way. Let's go, okay?"

Robyn looked up at her in a giddy daze. "No. No. You guys go on
ahead."
She turned back to Brad and smiled. "I'm sure Brad will take me home."

Cathy's jaw dropped. "Robyn..."

"I'm _okay_! Go! I'll be all right." Robyn hissed. She didn't want
Cathy
spoiling her wonderful mood.

Brad spoke up, hoping to reassure Cathy, and send her on her way.
"I'll
make sure she gets home. I live right next door. We'll be fine."

"Well, you're a big girl. Suit yourself. But I hope to hell you know
what
you're doing." Cathy flashed Brad a warning look and walked off toward
the
exit.

*****

They danced and drank and laughed on into the night. Robyn was having
more
fun than she'd had in all the years of her previous life. She drank
quite
a bit and events became blurry as the night wore on. 

One exchange stuck in her memory mostly because of the brief look of
shock
she saw on Brad's face. They were teasing each other about sex, and
Robyn
drunkenly hinted about her unusual situation, thinking herself very
clever
as she did so.

"You know I'm a virgin," she slurred, enjoying her private joke, "I've
been saving myself for the right woman and now I'm her."

Suddenly very serious, Brad asked, "You're really a virgin, Robyn?"

She hiccuped and nodded solemnly, then flashed him a smug smile.

He looked a little troubled. It was nearly impossible to imagine such
a
pretty girl had never had sex. But he shrugged it off momentarily --
it
would only make having her that much more satisfying.

Robyn also remembered spending some time in a little coffee shop. It
must
have been late because they were the only customers. She couldn't
remember
leaving the MouseTrap but that didn't really worry her at the time.
There
was more kissing and joking and Brad got her to drink some coffee and
swallow some advil.

Then she woke up outside the door to her apartment and Brad was asking
her
something about keys. Things were moving jerkily and the world seemed
to
be at a strange angle. Then she realized Brad was carrying her cradled
in
his arms like a small child. That was so sweet!

She smiled up at him and tried to imitate Mary Tyler Moore as Laura
Petrie, crooning in a singsong voice, "Honey, we're hoooooome!"

Brad laughed and kissed her. He somehow managed the door without
putting
her down. Then he asked which was her bedroom.

Robyn let her arm flip vaguely in the direction of the hall and said
"Last
door on the right." Then she snuggled closer to Brad's chest and
kissed
his neck. She closed her eyes and rested her head on his shoulder as
he
carried her down the hall.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Subject: New TG: Class Project 6a (magic)
Date: 8 Nov 1995 21:11:14 GMT
Organization: CompuServe, Inc. (1-800-689-0736)
Lines: 389
Message-ID: <47r6di$fuj$1@mhafc.production.compuserve.com>

Hi everyone,

I've been having problems trying to get aol (oh ick, yuck, there's
that word!) 
to post to Usenet, so I'm experimenting with a new account. Let's hope
this 
works. I apologize if there's any problems in the upload.

This is a longish chapter in the story of Robyn, nee Bob. With this
segment 
the story's probably half finished. There's a bit more sex in this
chapter 
than in the previous 5 so don't let your parents catch you reading
this.

I also want to thank Stephanie for her kind comment about this story.
I've 
enjoyed immensely everything she's written and always look forward to
new 
material from her, so I was really pleased to see her mention me
favorably.

I welcome any and all comments, I'm curious to know what people think
of this. 
Flames will be ignored.

Disclaimers seem silly, but necessary I suppose. This work is intended
for
adults only. This is a work of _fiction_ and if you can't deal with
that
then get a life.  Permission granted to distribute electronically, but
please don't try to make money off my effort -- write your own.

Enjoy!


Class Project
by Janice Dreamer

Chapter 6


Robyn woke feeling disoriented, uncertain where she was or how she got
there. 
She had a throbbing headache and an intense pressure in her bladder.
She was 
lying on her stomach with her face buried in a pillow. Blearily she
opened her 
eyes and saw she was in her own bed. Wow, what a nightmare, she
thought. Then 
she moved her head and felt long hair brush her cheek and she realized
the 
past 24 hours hadn't been a dream.

Moving woodenly, she crawled out of bed and stumbled to the bathroom.
Out of 
long habit she stood facing the toilet and lifted the seat. When she
reached 
down to aim her penis at the bowl her fingers brushed the silky thong
panty 
and she cursed. She lowered the seat back down, snaked her panties
down her 
legs and sat. She sighed in relief as the heavy stream splashed into
the 
water. 

Once she finished she glanced at herself in the mirror. The blonde
woman 
sitting on the toilet with her panties around her ankles looked sexy
as hell -
- even as obviously out of it as she was. The only thing she had on
besides 
the panties was her bra. Her hair was a wreck, with big clumps
unfurled from 
last night's careful up-do, pieces hanging everywhere still partially
held 
together with bobby pins. Her face was puffy and her eyes bloodshot.
She had 
lipstick smudged around her mouth and on her teeth.

She stood, pulled her panties up, and leaned over the sink, staring in
the 
mirror, trying to decide where to start on making herself presentable.
She 
realized she still had on her earrings and reached up to take them
off. Her 
nails made it difficult to grasp the little clips, but she figured it
out and 
set the hoops down on the vanity. She ran her fingers through her
hair, 
locating the hairpins and removing them, wincing occasionally as she
hit a 
snarl that pulled painfully at her scalp. Briefly she considered
combing her 
hair, then settled for a rudimentary finger raking, not wanting to
risk 
renewed agony at each tangle - besides she thought the wild tousled
look 
worked for her. Satisfied with her hair for the moment, she started to
brush 
her teeth then regretted she'd unbound her hair first. Almost as if it
were 
alive, strands of hair kept finding their way into her mouth as she
brushed. 
Eventually she had to pull her hair back from her face and hold it
behind her 
head with one hand while she finished cleaning her teeth. She rinsed
her mouth 
then splashed some water in her face and briefly scrubbed with a
washcloth to 
remove the lipstick traces around her mouth. She patted her face dry
and 
toweled her hair in spots where it had trailed into the water. She
felt her 
jaw thoughtfully, then realized shaving was something she didn't need
to worry 
about -- that was one aspect of manhood she was not going to miss. She
stared 
at her face in the mirror - startlingly lovely - and decided her
morning 
toilette was sufficient. Finally, she popped a couple advil from the
medicine 
cabinet and hoped they'd take effect soon or she'd never survive the
day.

Feeling somewhat human again, she padded back to her bedroom to get
dressed. 
She wondered what clothes she would wear since the only thing Cathy
had shown 
her last night was the dress she wore to the club. Even Robyn's
male-oriented 
fashion sense knew that dress was inappropriate for normal daytime
activities. 
The thought of the sexy little dress caused Robyn to look around for
it, 
realizing she didn't remember taking it off... in fact she was vague
on how 
she got home at all. Then she spotted it, carefully draped over the
back of 
her chair in front of the desk. Her stockings and garter belt were
also 
hanging there, and her shoes and handbag had been neatly placed on the
seat of 
the chair. She walked over and found a single rose lying on top of a
legal pad 
placed in the center of her desk. There was a brief note scrawled on
the pad.

 "Good morning Sweet Robyn! I hope you're not hurting too badly today.
You 
were quite a handful last night, so I put you to bed without any
dessert. I'll 
call you, but I promise not too early cause I know you're going to
need your 
sleep. Brad."

Robyn sniffed the rose and smiled. She had no idea how Brad had gotten
it in 
the middle of the night but it was a sweet gesture. She tried to
remember all 
they'd done last night but much of the evening was a blur. She
remembered a 
lot of kissing - did she ever! Her nipples tightened and she felt
excited, 
silly, happy, remembering the kisses and tender touches and being
carried in 
his arms. She briefly thought how strange it was to get all giddy over
a man, 
but she couldn't deny that the memories excited her. Then it occurred
to her 
that it must have been Brad who'd undressed her. How embarrassing! She
blushed 
all the way to her toes thinking of him seeing her in panties and bra.
But, he 
could have done anything he wanted - she couldn't have stopped him --
and  he 
just put her to bed. Cathy was wrong about him, Robyn decided, he
really was a 
decent guy.

Thought of Cathy led to wondering where she'd gone. With all these
strange new 
feelings and experiences she really needed someone to talk to. Someone
who 
would understand what she was going through, and Cathy was the only
one she 
could turn to. Robyn picked up the phone and called her dorm room. She

absently brushed her cheek with the rose as she listened to the phone
ringing.

"What?" Cathy blearily answered after 6 rings. Robyn had been about to
hang 
up.

"Cathy? It's me, Robyn."

"Robyn...? Oh, yeah. What time is it?" Cathy mumbled.

Robyn glanced at her clock and said, "It's almost noon. Wake up. We
have to 
talk."

"Noon?! Shit. I told Greg I'd meet him for lunch."

"Can't you cancel? Or reschedule? I _really_ need to talk to you."
Robyn 
pleaded.

"I guess I can call him. I'll stop off at your place first and meet
him a 
little later on."

"Great! Thanks Cathy, I appreciate it. Um... one more thing... can you
bring 
something for me to wear? That dress you gave me last night seems a
bit... too 
much for just hanging around the house."

"Oh, look in those shopping bags. I picked you up some everyday stuff
too, 
besides that little black number."

"Okay. Thanks."

"See ya in a bit. Bye!" Cathy hung up.

*****

She rummaged through the pile of shopping bags Cathy'd dumped in her
room. She 
felt a twinge of ominous dread when she found a box of tampons and
another of 
pads, but she put them off to the side, deciding that picking out
something to 
wear was the first order of business. Robyn was relieved to see
nothing was 
too expensive or outlandish in style. It looked like the everyday
casual 
wardrobe of an average coed. She'd been afraid Cathy had only picked
out a 
bunch of sexy items like the outfit she'd worn last night. She
separated out 
the receipts and put them on her desk, thinking she'd need to repay
her as 
soon as possible. If she didn't change back to Bob eventually money
might 
become a problem, but she'd worry about that if and when. First she
needed to 
get dressed before Cathy showed up.

She laid all her new clothes out on the bed to see what she had to
choose 
from. There was a pair of jeans, a cable-knit sweater in pink, several
pairs 
of leggings in patterns and colors that would match the sweater, a
knit cotton 
top with a simple crew neck, a package of bikini panties in assorted
colors, a 
plain white bra with a front closure, several pairs of socks in
various 
colors, a pair of Reeboks, and a simple shoulder bag. It was a female
version 
of the universal guy uniform of jeans and shirt, but she could see
that by 
mixing stuff around she could get four or five different outfits from
these 
few basic things. She decided on the jeans and sweater, wanting to
avoid for 
the moment either the form hugging leggings or clingy knit top.

She slipped off the panties she was wearing and started working on
removing 
her bra. She reached round behind her, blindly fumbling with the bra's

closure. Silently she cursed whoever designed women's clothing - you
needed to 
be a fucking contortionist to get dressed and undressed. Finally she
succeeded 
in freeing herself from the garment and itched her skin where it bore
the 
reddened imprint from the bra's elastic. Ah, that felt lots better.

She slid on a fresh pair of panties -- bright red and white diagonal
stripes, 
even her underwear was a fashion statement now. They were a normal
bikini 
style and didn't feel as alien as the thong had. Next came the bra.
This one 
was a soft cup front closure style and wasn't too much trouble to put
on. It 
was fairly comfortable too, not as binding as the strapless push-up
deal had 
been. 

Next she struggled into the jeans. Her new body was tiny but the pants
Cathy'd 
selected were even smaller. She had to squirm and pull quite a lot to
get them 
over her hips. When she finally had them buttoned they fit like a
second skin, 
and really emphasized her sexy ass. She hadn't seen a belt but they
fit so 
snugly she figured the last thing she'd have to worry about was her
jeans 
falling down. 

The sweater was a bulky cable-knit with a crew neck. She pulled it
over her 
head and had to pull her hair out through the neck opening. It was
tunic 
length on her but she arranged it so it bunched a bit at her waist
with the 
hem above the flare of her hips rather than covering her butt as it
would if 
she were wearing leggings. She liked the way her ass looked in the
tight jeans 
and she didn't want to hide it. 

She finished by pulling on a thick pair of pink socks and the Reeboks.
The 
shoes were white with pink detailing. She was growing accustomed to
the 
various frills in women's styles and merely thought the shoes were
pretty 
rather than questioning the fact that she was wearing obviously
feminine 
shoes. They were lots more comfortable than the heels had been but she
missed 
the height boost. A few adjustments in front of the mirror and she was

satisfied with her look. 

She wandered out to the kitchen and started making coffee. It was
frustrating 
to have to stand on a chair in order to reach her stuff. The three
roommates 
had logically given the topmost shelf to 6'4" Bob when they divvied up
kitchen 
storage space, and now she couldn't even see what was up there. She
made her 
usual extra strong coffee, using 5 scoops for a pot. When she took her
first 
sip she shuddered and made a face. Immediately she poured out the
entire pot 
and fixed a new one a bit less strong. She smiled at the irony of how
she used 
to laugh when other people tasted her coffee, and now she understood
their 
reaction. It seemed nothing remained of her old self except her
memories. 
There was so much to learn about her new body.

Cathy arrived while she was finishing her second cup. They talked a
bit about 
inconsequentials over coffee. Cathy admired Robyn's outfit, commenting
on how 
cute she looked, noting she'd coordinated her socks with her sweater
and 
saying they'd have to get her more clothes as soon as possible. Robyn
thanked 
her and said it was nice to be in jeans, even if they were so tight
she could 
barely sit. Then Cathy brought up Robyn's situation.

"So what did you want to talk about, Robyn?"

"Um... I've been wondering what's going to happen when I change back
to a 
man," she said a bit nervously.

"What do you mean?" Cathy asked cautiously. She studied Robyn over the
rim of 
her cup, wondering what she was getting at.

"I mean... Brad and me... well we sort of made out last night..."
Robyn 
fumbled for the right words.

"Get out!" Cathy burst out laughing. "Last time I saw you, you two
looked like 
you were doing lots more than 'sort of' anything. I tried to warn you.
Even 
offered you a ride home. But, no, you wouldn't listen."

"No. No. You don't understand. What we did isn't what's bothering
me... 
it's... well... I liked it." Robyn felt herself turning bright pink.
"I mean, 
I _really_ liked it."

"Oh?" Cathy'd seen the look on Robyn's face often enough before. It
was the 
look of someone in the early stages of a hot romance. "Hmmmm. You
enjoyed 
fooling around with a guy. That's what's bothering you, right?"

"Well... yeah. Inside I'm a guy. Except I never did anything when I
was a guy. 
Nothing. I never even kissed a girl, except my mother. And last
night... 
well... that was fantastic. Better than anything. I don't know how
describe 
it...."

Cathy grinned at her. "Been there, Robyn. Your first kiss. It's
wonderful, I 
know."

"Duh! Of course you know what it feels like, I guess I sound silly."
Robyn 
sighed. "Anyway. I can't stop thinking about it. I keep replaying
everything 
in my mind. I got so turned on last night, and I got excited all over
again 
this morning just remembering stuff. Hell, I'm feeling all tingly now
just 
talking to you about it." Robyn blushed even deeper, and grinned
ruefully at 
Cathy.

"It's normal to have feelings like you describe, Robyn..."

"Yeah, normal for a woman. I look at you right now, and I see an
attractive 
woman. You're sexy as hell, Cathy. I feel like I should be turned on
by you, 
only I'm not sure if I am. But last night, what I felt with Brad...
wow! And 
I've never been attracted to guys before. Now I'm wondering if my
brain is 
going to associate sex with guys from now on... even when I change
back. Like 
maybe I'm gay or something."

Cathy thought about the problem a few moments before speaking. The
fact that 
she kissed Brad and liked it meant Robyn was learning to be a woman.
But she 
worried that things might be moving a bit too fast. Every girl learns
the 
intricacies of sex gradually as she matures. They don't just suddenly
awaken 
one morning in a fully adult and very sexy female body. Robyn didn't
have the 
benefit of growing up female so she had no natural defenses against
the Brad 
Franklins of the world. She still believed the best thing for Robyn
was to get 
her to accept being female, help her be comfortable as a woman, since
that was 
probably what she was going to be for the rest of her life. But that
didn't 
mean she should immediately start fucking the first guy who came on to
her. 
For the moment at least, a bit of caution seemed in order. She only
hoped she 
could convince Robyn and calm her fears.

"I don't know if your idea is right, Robyn... I mean somehow I doubt
it's 
possible to turn yourself gay, if you weren't born that way already.
And I 
don't think just cause your first experience is with a guy that you'll
be 
permanently attracted to guys if you change back to a man. You'd never
be able 
to explain bisexuals if that were the case. I think what you're going
through 
now is just your mind adjusting to your new body with all the new
sensations. 
Your hormones and erogenous zones and all are completely different
now. And 
you don't have any experience in dealing with everything you're
feeling. It's 
like you've gone through puberty in a single day and your mind hasn't
yet 
adapted to all the physical changes. You might should take things a
bit slower 
right now, Robyn. Cool it with Brad especially, he's only interested
in one 
thing. At least until you're more familiar with what your body is
feeling." 

Robyn was standing, leaning her hip against the kitchen counter
watching her 
intently. Cathy puttered in the sink, rinsing out her coffee cup while
she'd 
considered how to phrase her thoughts. When she finished speaking she
leaned 
over and gave Robyn a hug to reassure her. Robyn felt Cathy's breasts
soft and 
heavy against her own.

Impulsively, Robyn stood on tiptoe and kissed her. Her lips were soft
and warm 
and yielding. Not demanding, like Brad's. She pressed herself closer
to Cathy. 
There was no firm bulge pressing back against her softness, only a
smooth 
flatness like her own. She moved her hand to Cathy's breast and felt
it's 
plush resilience through her blouse. But her memory flashed on how
Brad's 
chest had felt under her palm, so broad and strong and firm. And his
smell, 
clean but with a faint trace of muskiness. She opened her lips, darted
her 
tongue out, found Cathy's tongue soft and agile. Their tongues
connected, 
tentative shy touches, quickly over with. Then they parted, the entire

encounter had lasted only seconds.

Cathy seemed shaken, uneasy. Robyn felt a vague disappointment,
something was 
missing. Kissing Cathy wasn't what she'd expected. It was... nice. But
there 
was no excitement, no electricity like had happened last night.

"Cathy, I'm sorry. I... um... I didn't mean to..."

"No, it's okay Robyn. Really." Cathy avoided her gaze a moment, then
seemed to 
collect herself. She tucked her hair back behind her ear and looked
directly 
at Robyn. "You're confused right now. You don't know whether to be a
guy or a 
girl. I understand. It's just that... I've never done that before.
Kissed 
another woman like that. It's not your fault. But... well, I just
can't think 
of you as a guy. Not now, anyway."

"I know." Robyn looked sheepish. "It's weird. I didn't really feel all
that 
much either. Not anything like last night. I mean, it might be fun,
probably 
would be, but I didn't feel the same sense of urgency. No sparks. My
nipples 
barely even twitched, and last night they felt like they were gonna
shoot 
right off of my tits."

Cathy laughed, feeling the tension dissipate. "Yah. I know that
feeling!"

"Maybe I was right. Maybe I _am_ fixated on guys now." Robyn said, a
bit 
morosely.

"It's going to be okay." Cathy put her arm around Robyn's shoulders in
a 
friendly, not a suggestive way. "Your body just craves something
different 
now. And your mind is just reacting to all the hormones and signals
from your 
new body. If - when -- we change you back, your male equipment should
take 
over and you'll be drooling over women in no time."

Robyn was unconvinced, but it was a moot point until she got her old
body 
back. And worrying about it too much just depressed her. So she
changed the 
subject, trying to lighten the mood. 

"So you never did tell me how things went with you and Greg last
night. 
Obviously pretty good, or you wouldn't be meeting him today."

Cathy suddenly beamed. "Oh god! He's fantastic, Robyn. You'll get a
chance to 
meet him in a few minutes. He's coming over here to pick me up."

Robyn grinned at Cathy's infectious enthusiasm. "So, did you and him
do it 
last night, hmm?" She giggled wickedly.

It was Cathy's turn to blush. She replied in a saucy tone, "No, we
didn't 'do 
it' little miss nosy britches." Then she grinned widely. "But I was
tempted. 
If things keep going the way they're going I might be giving in
awfully soon."

"Oh, I know how you feel" Robyn sighed. Then they both broke out into 
laughter.

They both grew less serious, and the talk became almost silly. They
talked 
about their evening and Cathy made jokes about the way guys acted.
Robyn 
laughed along with her, remembering some reactions she'd gotten from
guys last 
night and realizing how truly lame men could be when they were trying
to 
impress women.

Greg showed up as they were joking about the two jocks who'd tried to
pick 
them up. Cathy re-introduced the two of them since they'd hardly
exchanged a 
word the night before. He sat and chatted with them a while. He seemed
nice, 
Robyn thought, witty, a good sense of humor, intelligent. He was
polite to 
Robyn and friendly but his face grew more animated whenever he looked
at 
Cathy. Robyn found herself watching him, the way his muscles bunched
under his 
skin when he moved, the strong line of his jaw and firm set of his
mouth, the 
way he touched Cathy, lightly resting his hand over hers, or giving
her arm a 
gentle squeeze. Robyn watched them together and wondered what it would
feel 
like for him to be touching her. When Cathy first mentioned Greg the
other day 
she'd expected to be somewhat jealous. But she hadn't expected the
jealousy to 
be directed at Cathy, for having such a sexy guy. What a strange,
strange turn 
of events, she thought to herself.

Eventually Cathy and Greg left. They asked Robyn if she wanted to join
them 
for dinner, but she declined. She said she just wanted to be alone and
think. 
Maybe soak in a bath. Cathy made her promise to call if she changed
her mind 
or needed anything. As they were going Cathy and Robyn made plans to
meet the 
next day.

*****

(continued in 6b)


----------------------------

Path:
news.production.compuserve.com!news.production.compuserve.com!news
From: Janice Dreamer <102315.1221@CompuServe.COM>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.tg
Subject: New TG: Class Project 6b (magic)
Date: 8 Nov 1995 21:12:28 GMT
Organization: CompuServe, Inc. (1-800-689-0736)
Lines: 259
Message-ID: <47r6fs$fuj$2@mhafc.production.compuserve.com>

(continued from chapter 6a)

*****

Robyn puttered about aimlessly, her thoughts drifting to Brad and last
night, 
wondering if they might grow as close as Cathy and Greg seemed to be.
It was 
dark outside when the phone interrupted her musing. She'd been
rereading his 
note for the umpteenth time, toying with the rose he left her. She
felt a 
flush of excitement when she answered it and heard his voice.

"Happy Thanksgiving, Sweets. Did you sleep well?" 

"Mmmm, like the dead. Happy turkey and dressing to you too." She was
all but 
purring into the phone.

"Well you sure looked dead to the world when I last saw you," he
teased.

"Oh god. I'm so embarrassed you had to put up with me all looped out
of my 
mind like that! Thank you for taking such good care of me. And thanks
for the 
flower, that was so sweet of you." 

"You're most welcome, Sweetie. I had more fun than I've had in a long
time. 
You're quite the party girl!"

Robyn giggled. Oh god, she thought, I'm acting like some love struck
kid!

"I'm sorry to call at the last minute and all, but I just got home. I
got 
sucked in to watching the game over at the frat house and I thought
you needed 
all the sleep you could get. Anyway, I thought if you weren't doing
anything 
you might like to come next door for a turkey dinner?"

"Oh..." Robyn remembered Cathy's advice to take things slower, but her
stomach 
was fluttering and her nipples tingling just talking to him on the
phone, and 
she barely even hesitated. "I'd love to, Brad."

"Great. I'm home now, so whenever you're ready just come on over. It's
the 
apartment next to yours on the right."

"I'll be right there." 

Brad gave her a kiss when he opened the door. He ushered her inside
with 
exaggerated courtliness. His place was a blend of sophisticated style
and frat 
guy mess. He had more money to decorate with so his stuff was better
than 
Robyn's place. The furniture was good quality, masculine in its
comfort and 
simplicity. The stereo and television were excellent, as to be
expected of a 
rich college guy. He had a large CD and video collection but very few
books. 
Robyn suspected he had porno tapes stashed in a little cabinet below
the VCR. 
There were various articles of sports equipment lying carelessly
about, 
baseball bat and glove, lacrosse stick, a pair of skis standing in a
corner. 
In contrast to the expensive electronic equipment the walls were
decorated in 
rather tacky posters, mostly models in various stages of nudity.

At the moment the only lighting came from over a dozen candles spotted

throughout the living room and dining area. The stereo was playing a
jazz CD, 
the soft warm tones of a saxophone filled the air. There was a bottle
of red 
wine open on the table and two glasses. The table was set for two,
with fine 
china and linen napkins. 

Brad pulled her chair out for her. "Just a moment Mademoiselle, while
I confer 
with the chef."

Robyn smiled. She felt rather special having someone go to all this
trouble 
for her. Brad disappeared into the kitchen for a moment and returned
carrying 
a pizza box which he sat in the center of the table.

Robyn burst out laughing. "That doesn't look like turkey to me."

"Oh mais oui!" He put a slice on her plate. "I'm almost certain they
use 
turkey pepperoni on Thanksgiving."

They ate and talked and drank. Robyn was careful not to overindulge in
the 
wine. She didn't want a repeat of the previous evening. After dinner
they slow 
danced in the living room to the soft music. She felt herself falling
under 
his spell. He seemed to know just how to keep her off balance and
pleasantly 
surprised. Her body seemed to tingle to his touch. 

When he took her hand and led her down the hall to the bedroom she
went 
eagerly. His bedroom was like the rest of the apartment, a mix of
expensive 
taste and fraternity vulgarity. The king size bed took up most of the
space. 
There was also a dresser and two night-stands that matched the bed's
large 
ornate headboard. The sheets were very high quality linen and clean --
Robyn 
silently gave thanks for that. There were six pillows piled at the
head of the 
bed and a down comforter folded at the foot. The room had several
mirrors, 
including one on the ceiling. In one corner there was a tripod with a
video 
camcorder which was connected to a small TV on the corner of the
dresser. Like 
the living room, this room was lit by fragrant candles strategically
placed 
about on the dresser and night-stands. Auxiliary speakers brought the
soft 
music from the stereo into the room.

Brad had brought the wine with him and he handed her glass to Robyn.
She 
sipped and put it on a night-stand. They danced very close for a time,
kissing 
and nuzzling each other. Soon they weren't really dancing any more,
just 
swaying gently and kissing. Robyn had been steadily growing more
excited all 
evening and now she felt herself nearly aching with anticipation as
Brad's 
tongue entwined with her own. She ran her hands up his spine, clutched
his 
shoulders. Her pussy was becoming aroused, she felt a tingling need
growing, 
demanding attention. She slid one leg around him, pressing her body
against 
him, grinding her crotch into his hardness. 

Brad's hand was a teasing warmth sliding up her side, under her
sweater. She 
felt his strong hand cupping her breast, then he was tugging at her
bra 
between her breasts and in a moment he'd opened the hook, her breasts
bobbed 
free. His warm palm gently pressed her breast, feeling its weight,
fingers 
teasing her nipple. Then his other hand slid up underneath her sweater
and 
both her breasts were gently kneaded. In moments he was urging her
arms up and 
he quickly slithered her sweater over her head and tossed it to a
chair. Her 
bra was next, and she stood nude from the waist up. 

Brad admired her breasts a moment then he tenderly traced his
fingertips from 
her hips up over her belly along her ribs, to rest on the sides of her

breasts, barely even touching her skin. She was breathing faster, her
nipples 
swelling, heating, aching to be touched. He drew his fingertips along
the side 
of her breasts, brushing her skin feather-softly, converging on her
nipples, 
gently tugging them outward. She gasped at the sensations coursing
through her 
body and tossed her head back, closing her eyes to savor the feelings.
Brad 
released her nipples then cupped his hands and moved his palms forward
till 
they were just barely brushing against the very tips of her nipples.
He slowly 
moved his palms in small circles, gently rolling her nipples as he did
so.

Robyn reached up intending to press his hands more firmly against her,
but 
just as her hands touched Brad's he turned his arms and gently but
firmly 
pushed her arms back down to her sides. He leaned over, softly kissed
her neck 
and whispered in her ear.

"Be patient, Sweet. Just close your eyes and enjoy."

He moved his mouth down her neck, his breath warm on her skin,
occasionally 
tickling her with lips or tongue or the tip of his nose. Then he was
sucking 
one of her nipples, his fingers teasing the other one simultaneously.
She 
gasped as his warm wet soft tongue swirled around her sensitive flesh.
He 
spent an unmeasurable time teasing her breasts with his mouth and
hands, while 
also tracing his fingers over her belly and back and hips. Robyn was
moaning 
in delight. She was only vaguely aware of what was happening when Brad

unsnapped her jeans and slid them down her legs. Everything just felt
so 
wonderful, she wanted more and more and more.

When Brad lifted her and laid her down on the bed she sighed with joy.
He 
continued to tease her, tracing his tongue down the line from her
navel to her 
crotch. She arched herself up as she felt his breath stirring in her
pubic 
hair, wanting his touch so badly. His tongue grazed the outer lips of
her 
pussy and she shuddered. But he moved on downwards, gently spreading
her legs 
and kissing her inner thighs. He positioned himself between her legs
and 
devoted several minutes to kissing all around her throbbing cunt but
never 
quite touching it. When she reached down to pull his lips to her
crotch he 
took her wrists in his hands and held them, pressed to the inside of
her 
thighs, holding her helplessly wide open while she thrashed her head
back and 
forth and bucked her hips in sweet aching frustration. 

Just when she thought she would die of the demanding need in her pussy
Brad 
once more ran his tongue over her outer labia. She clenched her
imprisoned 
hands into fists and bit her lip to stifle a moan. He slipped just the
tiniest 
fraction of the tip of his tongue past her outer lips and slowly
licked her up 
and down. His tongue circled her clit, and she jerked as if
electrocuted. He 
let his mouth sag open and slowly ran the velvet smooth inner surface
of his 
lower lip upwards along her pussy lips. As he reached the top his chin
was 
pressed partially into her slit and his lips began sucking ever so
gently on 
her clit. 

Robyn had been quivering at the verge of orgasm for a seemingly
timeless 
period. The feel of his lips sucking her clit sent her over the edge.
She 
gasped and felt her body go rigid, her back arched, her mouth open in
a silent 
scream, as waves of pure ecstasy rushed over her. She began trembling
and 
uncontrollably pumped her hips, pressing herself upwards to Brad's
mouth. She 
moaned in delight so loudly it was almost a scream. Brad increased the

pressure and speed of his lips and tongue, keeping her balanced at the
peak 
for an eternity, then slowed as he sensed the urgency in her movements

lessening. 

Robyn couldn't believe how strong her orgasm was, better than any
she'd ever 
had as a man, it was a pleasure so intense it bordered on agony. She
lay 
gasping, soaked with sweat, limp. It was several moments before she
became 
aware that Brad was busily kissing her thighs and her belly, stroking
her 
breasts, and she felt herself growing excited again. Robyn
halfheartedly tried 
to resist the reignited passion she was feeling. She felt a bit
selfish, Brad 
hadn't even taken his clothes off yet.

"Mmmm, Brad that was _wonderful_ but rest a bit. I want to make you
happy 
now." She said languorously.

Brad glanced up from tonguing her navel and grinned. His face
glistened with 
her juices. "Sweets, I haven't even begun to make you happy!" he said,
then 
bent down and slipped his tongue inside her cunt.

*****

Much later, they lay entangled together. Dreamily stroking a finger
over the 
swell of a breast, softly kissing, cheek brushing lightly against
sweat 
dampened chest hair. Robyn had lost track of how many times she'd
climaxed. 
She couldn't even guess how long Brad's skillful mouth and fingers had
kept 
her teetering on the brink of climax, punctuated by gasping orgasms
that 
seemed to go on and on, blending together. But she was no longer a
virgin, she 
was positive of that. 

After the second or third bout of cunnilingus Brad had guided her hand
down to 
his cock. She stared at the erection in her hand and felt a strange
sense of 
displacement, as if something were missing that her mind was expecting
to 
feel, then she realized she wasn't holding her own penis, but that of
her 
lover. She fondled it delicately, as if it might break, not sure she
could 
ever get comfortable touching it. Then Brad's intake of breath as she 
tentatively ran her finger along the shaft made her realize his
pleasure was 
dependent on her fully accepting her new role as a woman. She tried to
relax 
and open her mind to the new experience. She thought of all the
pleasure Brad 
had so recently given her, and felt a desire to reciprocate. Brad's
cock 
wasn't disgusting, she told herself, it was made for pleasure. She
gave it a 
tiny squeeze and heard Brad moan. Then she gently pushed it up against
his 
belly and released it, watching it bobble in the air. It was really
rather 
cute. She was amazed at how large it felt, and warm. It was velvety
smooth, 
thick, and seemed to throb under her every touch. When she encircled
the shaft 
her fingers barely met. This huge club was going to fit inside of her?
Her own 
penis had never felt so big, but her hands were much smaller now, she 
reasoned.

She heard a ripping sound and Brad placed a rolled condom in her
fingers and 
moved her hand to position the condom at the head of his cock. He kept
his 
fingers over hers and guided her in smoothing it down his shaft. The
condom 
was lubricated, slick to her touch. She was growing more and more
nervous as 
the moment of truth drew near. He sensed this and kissed her ear,
whispering 
endearments. She felt his newly familiar touch in her pussy, teasing
her, 
arousing her, making her want more. Her worries faded as his fingers
performed 
their magic, exciting her more and more. When she began arching
herself to him 
he gently eased her legs apart.

She felt his fingers replaced by something larger, warm and slick.
Gently he 
eased himself into her. Oh, this was so different, she thought. She
felt 
herself stretching, wider than before, he was so big. He pushed a bit
more and 
she arched up then cried out as a sharp pain took her. He held still a
moment 
and the pain lessened, then pushed a bit deeper. It hurt but she was
terribly 
excited too. She felt a mixture of fear of the pain and desire to feel
him 
fully inside her - desire won out. She spread her legs as wide as
possible, 
reached behind him, grabbed his ass, and pulled him to her. There was
a final 
burning pain, not so bad as the first. Then she felt Brad's weight
grinding 
into her mound, he was inside her to the hilt.

Brad took things slowly, moving gently, watching her face for signs of

discomfort. All the oral stimulation had left her literally dripping
with 
lubrication which helped enormously. The pain faded and she began to
feel 
renewed excitement and he slowly increased his pace. Soon she was
clenching 
her vaginal muscles reflexively, squeezing his cock as it slid in and
out ever 
more rapidly. She hugged him with her legs, her heels pressing into
the small 
of his back, her hands clutching his arms, nails biting into his skin.
She 
felt herself nearing orgasm and voluntary control of her body slipped
away. 
She bucked and arched herself to meet his thrusts, animal-like, savage
in her 
need. Then she was there, climaxing, clinging to him desperately,
wanting to 
pull all of him inside her. Several seconds into her orgasm Brad came
also. 
His body spasmed and he thrust himself into her to the limit of his
shaft. He 
remained rigid a moment, frozen inside her, then eased down from the
peak, 
reflexively pumping himself slowly in and out to extend the moment. 

Robyn's orgasm faded and she regained control of herself. Brad was
still hard 
inside her, but unmoving. He was ever so slowly shrinking. She felt
his weight 
pressing her hips into the bed, but he balanced his upper body on his 
forearms. She relaxed her death grip on his arms and hips and tenderly
ran her 
hands over his back and up to his hair.

"Ohhhh, am I still alive?" she murmured.

"Maybe not for long." Brad teasingly replied, leaning down to kiss
her.

TO BE CONTINUED...

Subject: NEW TG: Class Project 7 (magic)
From: Janice Dreamer <102315.1221@CompuServe.COM>
Date: 29 Nov 1995 19:30:14 GMT
Message-ID: <49icc6$omj$1@mhafc.production.compuserve.com>

Hi Everybody,

This chapter in the perils of Robyn, nee Bob, has been 
percolating for quite a while. The Thanksgiving holidays got me 
sidetracked. With this latest chapter I'm also going to repost 
the previous 6 chapters to both A.S.S. and A.S.S.tg. as I've had 
quite a few requests for reposts. I hope to have at least one, 
possibly two more chapters to upload before Xmas but that will 
depend on time constraints. Shopping, decorating, baking, 
spending time with friends and family are not conducive to 
writing sex fantasies :)

Thanks to everyone who have sent me comments on this story. It's 
encouraging that people are actually reading this and I'm not 
just transmitting text out into cyber-limbo. I welcome any and 
all comments, I try to answer all email so feel free to tell me 
what you think. As long as you're polite, of course -- flames 
will be ignored.

Disclaimers seem silly, but necessary I suppose. This work is 
intended for adults only. This is a work of _fiction_ and if you 
can't deal with that then get a life.  Permission granted to 
distribute electronically, but please don't try to make money off 
my effort -- write your own.

Enjoy!


Class Project
by Janice Dreamer

Chapter 7

Robyn felt she was in heaven. She'd never even imagined it was 
possible to be this happy. Brad had awakened her early with 
teasing kisses to her nipples and a probing finger in her pussy. 
She grew slick and ready almost instantly and Brad mounted her. 
She eagerly spread herself wide for him. The feel of his cock 
sliding in and out of her was a newly familiar joy. They made 
love dreamily, both of them still in the warm shadowy place 
between sleep and full wakefulness. She enjoyed the slow dreamy 
pace. It was different from the hungry urgency of last night, 
seeming more intimate and tender. She orgasmed before him, a slow 
blossoming pleasure rather than the mind blanking explosions of 
last night, not as intense but very sweet nonetheless. 

Brad hadn't yet climaxed and he continued fucking her for several 
minutes after her orgasm faded. She studied him as he moved over 
her, thrusting himself into her, blindly striving for release. 
His eyes were closed and his face seemed intent, as though 
concentrating. She held him, stroked his back, matched his pace, 
met his thrusts with her hips, coaxed him towards climax with 
whispered endearments and small moans of passion. This was 
different from the first time too, more a sense of sharing, 
giving, rather than just accepting. The previous night she had 
lost all control and had felt like she was being buffeted by a 
force of nature. Now she could focus on what Brad was doing. She 
could sense when he liked something -- a movement, a pressure, a 
touch -- and she actively worked at increasing his enjoyment of 
their loving. When Brad finally shuddered in orgasm she felt a 
sense of joy in giving him pleasure.

During the night they had made love three times before slipping 
into a deep sleep, both of them totally satiated and exhausted. 
Robyn felt a sense of euphoria, practically bubbling with 
happiness over all that had happened last night. Brad had treated 
her so special, given her so much pleasure. But beyond the mere 
physical pleasure of sex, the intimacy of having another person 
cuddle and stroke and touch her was something she'd been starved 
for her entire life. She had never felt the loving touch of 
another human before and hadn't even realized how achingly lonely 
she had been. Now, while she lay clinging tightly to Brad as he 
descended from his orgasmic heights, she felt tears welling in 
her eyes. She wept silently in gratitude for what she'd just 
experienced, in regret for all she'd missed out of life in her 
previous joyless existence, and in sorrow at the unfairness of 
all those like Bob who never found someone to share this 
wonderful contact with another person. She sniffled and blinked 
back her tears, trying to get a grip before she lost it 
completely. 

Brad noticed her sniffling and raised his head to look down in 
her eyes. "What's wrong Sweets?" he asked in concern.

"Nothing. I'm just so happy..." Robyn whispered through her 
constricted throat. Oh how trite. She had _never_ understood that 
old cliché. The closest she'd ever come to what she was feeling 
now was when she'd get a bit misty during the final scene of 
_It's A Wonderful Life_ when everybody came to Jimmy Stewart's 
rescue. But this inexplicable flood of emotion when she should be 
feeling good was far beyond anything she'd experienced from just 
watching a tearjerker movie. She was still unaccustomed to the 
way her emotions seemed to run out of control so easily and it 
was disconcerting to get all choked up so suddenly. The really 
strange thing was that she felt a sense of release. She felt 
really good, sort of serene, possibly better than if she hadn't 
had the emotional outburst. But her crying made her vaguely 
embarrassed too, and she mentally castigated herself for acting 
foolish. She managed a wan smile to reassure Brad, her eyes still 
glistening with tears. Then almost involuntarily she let out an 
explosive little self-deprecating laugh that was more than half 
sob, and hugged Brad fiercely with her entire body.

Brad kissed her tenderly and said, "You're really something, 
Sweetie." Then he rolled over, cradling her to him, somehow 
keeping himself partially inside of her, and gently pulled her 
head down to lay on his shoulder.

They lay for a bit, entangled together, their breathing returning 
to normal. Both silently basking in the afterglow. She thought 
about Brad and all they'd shared together. She felt a great 
tenderness for him. He was so warm and caring, nothing at all 
like Cathy seemed to think of him. He knew she was virgin last 
night but he hadn't made a big deal over it, careful not to make 
her nervous or self-conscious. He had calmly guided her, being 
slow and gentle so as not to harm her. He devoted himself to 
making her first time truly memorable. And it had been. Better 
than she could have ever dreamed. He seemed to know just where to 
touch her, just how to touch her, to give her the most delicious 
sensations. The orgasms she'd had at his touch were impossibly 
beyond the very best she'd ever felt from masturbation when she 
was a man.

Besides enjoying the pleasure Brad gave her during sex, she felt 
an attraction for Brad as a man. She realized that she saw his 
body as sexy. Brad was large and strong and very masculine. When 
she'd been Bob she hadn't looked twice at another man, never 
understood how sexy a man's body could be, never really gave it 
any thought at all. But now she was very much attracted by Brad 
physically. He was like a great powerful beast and his physical 
power, compared with her own new, weaker, body aroused her 
tremendously. She thought of how he'd held her during their 
lovemaking. How he'd effortlessly manipulated her body, yet had 
remained gentle, never hurting her, while making her feel totally 
overwhelmed physically. She couldn't explain why she was having 
these feelings for a man, something which would have been 
unthinkable when she was Bob, but she couldn't deny how he made 
her feel. She was almost reluctant to admit, even to herself, 
that what she was feeling might be what a "normal" woman would 
feel for her lover. 

After a bit Brad stirred, patted her hip and said he needed to 
take a shower. He rose from the bed, leaving her to burrow into 
the last remnants of his warmth in the rumpled bedding. She 
watched appreciatively as he stretched a bit, enjoying the way 
the morning light played on his skin as the muscles bunched and 
flexed. He grabbed a pair of silk boxers which she figured he 
kept for just such occasions and walked out the door, leaving her 
still laying in the bed. She hugged herself, remembering how Brad 
had held her last night, and thought how wonderful it was to be 
alive.

She sat up and spent a few moments checking herself out for any 
changes or signs of damage from losing her virginity. She really 
didn't know what to expect. From stories she'd heard she thought 
it would have hurt a lot more than it had and that she should 
have bled rather a lot. There was some trace of blood dried on 
her inner thighs but not too much. She felt a bit tender in her 
pussy, and slightly achy in her breasts. But all in all there 
didn't seem to be any alarming aftereffects. 

When she heard the water start running, Robyn tiptoed into the 
bathroom and surprised Brad in the shower. She always thought the 
shared shower scenes in movies looked like so much fun and now 
here she was living out one of her fantasies, except as the girl 
instead of the guy. She was feeling playful and impulsive and she 
indulged herself by tickling and teasing Brad. She was learning 
to exploit the cultural bias that a beautiful woman acting silly 
was considered endearing. After years of worrying what people 
might think, she wallowed in the sense of freedom to just enjoy 
herself without inhibitions. As Robyn she could get away with 
behavior that would have earned Bob a punch in the nose. Hell, 
looking the way she did now she was almost _expected_ to be a 
ditsy flirt. She felt like a child again as she tickled Brad. And 
she actually shrieked and giggled, sounding like a teenage girl, 
when he trapped her arms and tickled her ribs in retaliation.

Eventually their frolicking became more languid and they began 
washing each other with long slow passionate strokes over each 
other's body. It was a sensual delight soaping each other and she 
felt herself becoming aroused again. But Brad kissed her and 
moved her hand away when she tried to tease his cock to erection. 
He said he didn't have any condoms left but promised her later. 
So they postponed lovemaking for the moment and contented 
themselves with lingering touches and passionate kisses. She was 
a little disappointed but the sensuous thrill of his hands 
gliding over her skin, their bodies sliding together wet and 
slick in the steamy warmth was an experience to be remembered 
even without intercourse. With a sense of sweet self-denial they 
pulled themselves away from each other before they lost control, 
managed to put aside their desire for more, and finished washing 
each other. 

She hadn't washed her hair since the change and it was wet from 
the shower anyway so she decided to use Brad's shampoo. But she 
had trouble managing the sheer bulk of her hair. She'd thought it 
was heavy before, now it felt positively leaden all soaked with 
water. She was discovering how much of a problem long hair really 
was. Working the shampoo completely through the volume of her 
hair with her long fingernails was difficult, tedious, and time 
consuming, and rinsing all the lather out took forever. In all 
she spent a good fifteen minutes just on her hair, which was 
maybe fourteen minutes longer than it used to take Bob. 

Brad left the shower while she was still rinsing her hair and was 
out of the bathroom by the time she turned off the water. She 
toweled off as quickly as she could and tried to dry her hair. 
She rubbed her head with a towel and tried squeezing her hair 
into the towel. After several minutes' toweling, her hair was 
still damp and it had become one great mass of snarls. She 
decided she absolutely must pick up some conditioner as soon as 
she had the chance. She dreaded the thought of putting a comb 
through the rats' nest of tangles, so she wrapped a towel around 
her head, and another one around her body and went out in search 
of Brad. 

She padded out to the kitchen and found him sipping coffee in his 
boxers. She poured herself a cup and sat next to him, 
affectionately running her hand along his forearm down to his 
hand where it lay on the table holding his mug. She felt so 
content, totally happy and ready to spend the entire day just 
being with Brad. She kept waiting for him to suggest something 
for them to do together, but he seemed lost in thought, sipping 
his coffee silently. She couldn't understand why he seemed so 
pensive and withdrawn and she began to feel apprehensive. All her 
efforts to draw him into conversation were met with distracted 
responses and she soon gave up and waited quietly for him to open 
up. Finally he looked at her and seemed to force a smile. 

"Sweet, you're fantastic," he said.

Robyn blushed and smiled nervously. She dreaded the "but" that 
she felt was surely coming. In an effort to divert him she said 
in what she hoped was a sexy voice, "I can't believe how 
wonderful last night was."

"It would be even better if we didn't have to worry about those 
damn rubbers," Brad said. He hesitated a moment, then asked a bit 
hopefully, "You're not on birth control, are you?"

"Nooo... I never had a need to... until now." She said cautiously. 

Robyn felt her ebullient mood slip away and her smile faded as 
she considered what Brad was driving at. His previous moody 
silence fed her insecurities and she was expecting the worst, a 
"thanks for the fuck, I'll see ya around". When he hadn't come 
right out with a brush-off she interpreted what he had said in 
the worst possible light. To her hypersensitive mind he sounded 
suspiciously manipulative, just as Cathy'd predicted. There 
seemed to be a suggestion in his question that she should assume 
the full burden of responsibility for safe sex and possibly an 
implied threat that if she didn't he would no longer want 
anything to do with her. She was beginning to see some of the 
implications of how getting involved with Brad could complicate 
her life. She hadn't really thought beyond the pleasure of the 
moment. What about her commitment to changing herself back to a 
man - where would that leave her and Brad once she was ready to 
change back? Was it wise to continue seeing him at all, even now? 
Wouldn't it be easier in the long run if she just ended the whole 
mess right now before things got totally out of hand? Her happy 
mood shattered and her mind spiraled ever deeper into negativity.

Brad interrupted her despondent thoughts. "Why don't you think 
about it, Robyn? I don't want to push or anything. It's just 
that... I mean there's always a chance of a rubber breaking. And 
you don't want to risk getting pregnant." He lifted her chin so 
she faced him and flashed her his most disarming smile. "I know 
it's like way weird to be talking about stuff like this, but it's 
something we need to think about. I really like you, Robyn. I'd 
like to see more of you."

Robyn smiled broadly, her eyes sparkling once again. Like a yo-yo 
her feelings soared up from the depths into which they'd 
plummeted just seconds ago. When he put it that way, it made 
sense - he was merely being prudent, not trying to manipulate her 
at all. Besides, she _should_ share responsibility, it was her 
body after all. And best of all was that Brad wanted to continue 
seeing her! She felt her doubts about continuing with this crazy 
relationship melting under the radiance of his smile. Maybe she 
could still go out with him as long as she kept her head and 
remembered that it was only temporary. He was certainly fun to be 
with. And the sex was out of this world, she wryly reminded 
herself. If she was stuck in this body, she might as well enjoy 
it. No sense worrying about it until the time came to change 
back, she rationalized.

In her relief that Brad wasn't dumping her she didn't even see 
how strangely fragile her emotional state was. It was as if she 
were poised on a knife edge and the slightest provocation could 
push her into despair or anger or back into oblivious happiness. 
She couldn't analyze her feelings for Brad, she wanted his 
approval and when he had withdrawn from her it had made her 
insecure and frightened. It made her feel vulnerable and 
uncertain. All the attention he gave her and the shared intimacy 
had left her wanting more. She practically wriggled like a puppy 
each time he complimented her. 

"I'd like to see more of you too, Brad." She said shyly. "And 
I'll think about birth control."

"Good." 

Brad brushed her cheek with the back of his hand. His smile was 
broadly triumphant. He thought to himself how easily the naïve 
little bimbo had fallen under his charms. It was still a wonder 
to him that such a delicious piece of ass had kept her virginity 
so long. She was one of the most beautiful women he'd known, and 
seemed totally innocent, unaware of how easily she could use her 
beauty to manipulate men. That was so rare in a truly beautiful 
woman, most were all too sure of themselves, knew exactly how 
their bodies affected men. She was still shy and inhibited in bed 
but Brad would change that. She seemed so eager and hot for his 
touch, he knew he'd have her eating out of his hand in no time at 
all. But right now the best plan was to keep her guessing, off 
balance and wanting more.

He gave her a sad smile and said regretfully, "I'm really sorry 
about this, Sweetie, but I have to go out soon. Much as I'd 
rather spend the day with you I need to take care of something at 
my fraternity." Yeah, there's supposed to be a keg and a 
fooseball tournament this afternoon, he reminded himself. "I'll 
give you a call later this evening, if that's okay?"

Robyn was disappointed but she tried not to show it. Even though 
she wished she could stay with him, she realized he had a life 
and couldn't be expected to just drop his previous plans. After 
all, he'd only just met her as Robyn two days ago. And he did 
promise to call her, oh she hoped he would!

"That's okay, Brad. Cathy said she'd stop by today anyway. But 
later on... yeah, I should be home if you want to call me."

Brad grinned. The hopeful look on her face was assurance that 
she'd be waiting by the phone for his call. Brad loved women, he 
was a real stud and probably would have a difficult time 
remembering all the women he'd slept with. He loved the sex, no 
doubt about that, but he loved the sense of conquest best of all, 
the feeling that a girl was falling in love with him. His ego 
would have rejected the notion that he used women, he prided 
himself on being a fantastic lover and a fun date. To his mind he 
gave far more to the women he became involved with than he took 
from them. It wasn't his fault if a girl read more into their 
relationship than fun and sex, he never promised more than that. 
He had been drawn to Robyn's beauty when he first saw her but it 
was her innocence that appealed to him most. Within moments of 
meeting her he knew she would be more fun than just a one night 
stand for him. He figured it would be several weeks, maybe months 
even, of great sex and good partying while he gently taught her 
her womanhood.

They finished their coffee and got dressed. Just before they left 
the apartment he kissed her passionately, bringing her to panting 
arousal and then broke away, leaving her feeling tingly and 
wanting. He sighed and said "I'll be thinking about you all day, 
Sweetie." Then he got in his car and drove off.

She went back to her place, head still damp and busied herself by 
trying to unsnarl her hair. It was still early morning and she 
missed Brad already. 

TO BE CONTINUED...