Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories From: nostrumo@nienor.in-berlin.de Subject: TG: Copeland Messes with the Wrong Person by Lisa Blades Date: 4 Nov 1995 02:14:52 +0100 Copeland Messes with the Wrong Person by Lisa Blades I was in the bathroom just off the locker room when Copeland walked in and headed over toward me. Copeland wore just a towel and a scowl on his face. He was a senior and considered one of the tough guys on campus. Rumor had it that no one had ever gotten him to back down from anything. He pretty much got his way. From the look on his face, he wanted something from me. He stood up to one of the urinals next to me and started to piss. When I was done, I tried to get around him. But he took a step back and blocked me in the corner. "What's your fucking hurry, Mitchell?" he asked. "Got someplace you're trying to get to?" I didn't say anything. I looked blankly off into the distance. I was still wearing my shorts and t-shirt and really wanted to get out of there and shower. "Yeah, you think you're such hot shit, don't ya, Mitchell," Copeland said. "For just a fucking sophomore, you think you're really some kind of goddamn stud, huh? Just cause you made the fucking faggot baseball team." Copeland was starting to give me a headache. I could feel my forehead throbbing already. He wasn't the first one to give me shit about this. When I made the baseball team as a freshman, I took some crap from the older guys on the team. Most of it was little more than overdone teasing; sort of a rite of passage onto the varsity team. I took that and was accepted. But dicks like Copeland couldn't hack it. They didn't like a supposed newcomer to grab the glory from guys who had been there four years. Copeland himself had tried out for the team, but had been cut. Right then and right there, as Copeland turned to scowl straight into my face, I decided I'd had enough of his crap. I had an ace in the hole. I was ready to use it. "Let me by, Copeland," I said, my voice low but audible. "Just leave me alone and let me by." "Fuck you," he hissed. "You stole my goddamn spot on that team. And I'll have your nuts for it." Though he was quick, I was quicker. His arm snapped up and out at me, his hand drawn into a fist. But it froze halfway there. "I told you," I said softly. "Leave me alone. But you can't. Now you'll pay." I looked down at his towel. He followed my gaze. The towel unfurled itself and slapped quickly into the ground. Give Copeland credit for getting his testosterone. He was hung quite well. But the weight built in the front of my mind. I pushed it outward at Copeland. We both watched quietly as his penis and balls began to shrink. And shrink. And shrink. They went far beyond that of a small child. They were positively miniature. His cock was no bigger around than a pencil. His balls were about as big around as dimes. I pushed past Copeland, pausing to call over my shoulder as I headed toward the door: "You fucked with the wrong guy, dickhead. You finally fucked with the wrong guy." As I was showering, Copeland finally came out of the bathroom. He had his towel tightly around his waist. He looked shaken, incredibly shaken. His friends were asking him if he was okay. He muttered something about the flu and quickly dressed, his back to his friends. Obviously, though, common sense was not his strong point. He was waiting for me as I walked out of the locker room. We were off from where his group of friends were standing. "You're a fucking dead man, Mitchell," he said as he approached me. "You still don't get it, do you, man?" I asked. Finally he was standing directly in front of me. "I know you're gonna die, asswipe," he hissed. But he again found himself unable to move. "Listen, pencil-dick," I began, then smiled. "And that is fairly descriptive, isn't it?" I chuckled before continuing. "You listen to me, and you listen really, really well. I'm sick of you. You're an asshole. And I'm going to teach you a lesson. Can you feel your dick?" I saw him concentrate, then nod slowly. I felt the weight again in my forehead, then pushed it out. Copeland's eyes widened. "My friend," I said softly, "you are now the proud possessor of a fine, furry pussy. A cunt. A twat, I believe you would call it. And that's not the half of it. You have exactly 10 minutes before that pussy is joined by a fine pair of breasts. So I would advise you to get the hell out of here, right now." Then I paused and smiled. "But not before this... " I swung my arm back and cold-cocked him, driving him backwards onto the blacktop. I stepped forward and towered over him. "Let this be part of the lesson," I said. "And remember: 10 minutes." With that, I left and walked home. It was about 6 p.m. that night that my personal phone rang. I knew who it was. "I was wondering when you would call," I said. "Please, man," Copeland whined into the phone. "Please, man. Please. Change me back, man. I can't even go downstairs and have dinner with my folks." "Tsk-tsk," I said. "So... have you been playing with yourself?" His uneasy silence told me he had. "Naughty-naughty, Copeland. Good girls don't do that." "I'm no fucking girl-" he started angrily, but I cut him off. "No, but you can be a `fucking' girl," I said. "And if you raise your goddamn voice to me one more time, I'll turn you into the biggest whore you've ever seen. You got that?" "Yes," he said meekly. "Good girl," I said. "Now, I have one more thing for you to do before I let you out of the spell... for now. You're to go into your sister's room and get her cheerleading outfit. She'll probably be out fucking the flavor of the week by now. So you get it and bring it over to my house. I live in the room over the garage. Use the outside stairs. Be here in 15 minutes. You don't want to know what happens when you're late." When 15 minutes had expired and Copeland wasn't there, I made one call. The person on the other end listened and enthusiastically agreed. Copeland arrived 23 minutes after our call. "You're late, girl," I told him. He started to protest. I raised my hand and instantly silenced him. "Punishment will come later. Right now, strip out of your clothes and put on the uniform." He looked at me like I was speaking another language. "Don't make me ask you twice, bitch," I said. Copeland stripped. It was amusing to see his body with a pair of breasts and a cunt. He looked like some bizarre body-building girl. As he picked up the uniform, I saw the look in his eyes. He seemed sure it was not going to fit. But as he slipped the colored panty-shorts up his legs, they fit perfectly. The skirt slipped perfectly into place. He pulled the sweater over his head and then looked at me. I smiled and motioned toward the mirror. He walked over and his eyes went wide at what he saw. "She" was perfectly beautiful. It was a version of his sister, but with blonde hair instead of black. And her breasts were a littler larger, the rump a little rounder and the face a little more refined. "My God," she said, then put a hand to her lips at the soft and sweet sound of her voice. "Back here, my little slave," I called. I was now on the bed, naked and sporting a monster hard-on. Her eyes latched on to it. "Come on, my little cheerleading slave. I know you want to come over and suck on my meat." I mentally nudged her and the desire exploded in her. She moved quickly and gracefully over to the bed and sucked me deep into her mouth in one slick move. Her red painted lips left streaks along my cock. She was quite talented. Within moments, I was dumping a load of sperm down her throat. "Drink it all, slave," I said. "Suck it all down." She did as she was told. Then I directed her to get on her hands and knees on the bed. I tossed the skirt up over her rump and ripped the panties off of her. Her eyes looked back in surprise when she saw her sister's panties in shreds. I laughed. "Looks like you'll have to explain that one, eh?" Then I fucked her, hard and long. She could not come, though. She felt herself getting closer and closer but could never quite come. I reached around and squeezed and twisted the big nipples on her heavy breasts. Then I finally came. I pulled out of her and she fell, heaving on the bed, frustrated as hell by not coming. "Take off that uniform and use this," I said, tossing her a dildo from a drawer. "Stuff it up your ass and you'll be coming in no time." She did as she was told. I changed her back to Copeland. He never noticed. He continued pounding the dildo in and out of his ass. His pencil-sized dick was hard as a rock. I grinned, thinking about how his girls' clit was probably larger. The door opened to my room and Kelly slipped inside. Kelly was a big girl, tall and rotund. Though she wasn't grotesquely fat, she was big. Big and quite tall. She saw Copeland and couldn't keep from grinning foolishly She slid over next to me and whispered in my ear. "Gawd, I can't believe it," she said. "It really is him!" Finally, Copeland started to come. He squirted sperm all over himself. He finally started to realize he was a guy again, albeit a guy with a dildo imbedded in his ass. "Does it feel reeeeeeeeeeal good, Copeland?" Kelly asked. A panicked look crossed his face when he saw her. His mouth opened and I think he was going to scream, but no words came out. Kelly walked over to the bed and squeezed his itty-bitty dick. She chuckled at it as it started to grow hard, though remained so small. "Mmm-mmm," Kelly said. "Bite-size!" She made a growling sound and made a biting motion toward it. Copeland panicked slid quickly up onto the bed. Kelly laughed hard and loud. "Oh, don't worry, you poor baby," she said, laughing. "It wouldn't fit on a hotdog bun. It definitely wouldn't satisfy my appetite." "In case you were wondering," I told Copeland, "Kelly here is part of your punishment for being late. We decided on the phone that you should learn some humility, to learn that you're not the most important person in the universe." Kelly and I sat down on the old couch I had. "You see," Kelly said. "I thought the best way was for you to live for this entire weekend as a girl. A girl of my choosing." "I can't," Copeland said. "You really don't have a choice," I told him. I pointed to the phone on the stand next to him. "Call and tell your parents whatever they will believe." Copeland did. He weaved some story about going with some friends somewhere. "Good boy, Copeland," I said. "Now, shall we begin?" I walked over behind where Kelly was sitting and placed my hands on her forehead, directing my power through her. Copeland began to change. First came the breasts. This time, though, they hung huge and heavy off his chest. His thighs grew thick, as did his arms. His hair became bleached blonde and hung straight down to his waist. "She" finally staggered to her feet and saw herself in the mirror - a big-breasted, overweight, blonde whore. "The boys love those big tits," Kelly said. Copeland turned and gaped at Kelly, who had changed herself. Gone was the bulky brunette. Now Kelly was tall and trim, though still in dazzling shape. Her own large breasts had become high and trim. She was, simply, a knockout. I leaned over and gave her a deep, open-mouthed kiss. Finally we broke and Kelly tossed a bag at Copeland. "Here you go, `Mary'. Some of my clothes. They should fit. Though those big boobies of yours might be a little constrained." As Copeland dressed, I made sure he understood what was going to happen: "Kelly is your mistress. You will obey her every command. You will do whatever she wants, however she wants, whenever she wants. You simply will not be able to disobey her. Not at all. It's simply impossible for you. If she asks you to eat her pussy, you eat her pussy. If she asks you to fuck a dog, you do it." With that, the two of them left. And I began to plan what I was going to do for the weekend.