What a Doll

            This is the story of a young man who made a careless mistake. Out with friends and getting smashed, he caught sight of a young lady who was gifted with an unusually large bust. She also appeared to have the face of a child's doll. The mistake was saying to her, "What a doll." She was incredibly sensitive about her looks and immediately took offense to his words. Making it worse, she was also practicing dark magic, and some choice words would permanently change his life for good.

            The offended lass said, "Maybe you would like being called 'a doll'." She then muttered some unintelligible language the lout couldn't figure out but, being buzzed, he couldn't figure out left from right. All he did was stare at her masses. This prompted the angry woman to hold his head up straight and give him a left hook to his face. He was lost in a daze and bleeding from the side of his face, but by the time he was helped to his feet by his drinking buddies, the dark magician was long gone. In his alcohol-induced fog, he wouldn't remember any of this. It wouldn't matter.

            A horrible pain in his stomach region would wake up the poor lad the next morning. Together with his hangover, it was too much to handle. He fell out of his bed to the floor, one arm clutching his head while the other was around his stomach. Skin bubbled as bones and cartilage underneath shifted around. Turning to his side, he lifted up his shirt, the very shirt he was wearing the night before, and saw his flabby stomach slowly caving in on itself. Sudden pains from his hips. They were creaking outward to childbearing proportions, officially giving him an hourglass figure. His back spasms were followed by it cracking inward, making his slowly growing derriere protrude even further. The hair on his head had reached his shoulders by the time two small mounds had formed on his chest. When those mounds grew into mountains, his lengthening hair had reached his chest. He mustered the power to stand, only to stumble backwards into a wall. His Rapunzel-esque locks had turned a lighter shade of blonde as they finally stopped growing, reaching his waist. He grabbed his face as it painfully reshaped itself, all the while, his "machinery" below shrank and receded inside of him, reforming into ovaries. It was now official; He was now a she.

            The pain that wracked her body was gone. Even the hangover had mysteriously went away. She made her way toward her bathroom, stumbling all the way. It took both her hands and all the energy she had to keep from falling on her face. However, as she took one slow step at a time, visions ran through her mind. She saw herself strutting her stuff, buying and wearing all sorts of expensive or provocative clothes, mesmerizing strangers with lewd but sexy dancing, and long-lasting sex. She tried blocking them out, but she couldn't help herself.

           This couldn't be her. She didn't behave like this, nor did she want to. A second, more malevolent personality was trying to take over. The male she once was was now losing the fight. She reached the mirror, one hand still clutching her head as the last vestiges of her life as a male evaporated. With stars in her eyes, the changed girl looked at her reflection and was instantly fascinated with her appearance. She was busty, had curves like a racetrack, and a flawless face. A smile formed on her face. It was a smile that hid very selfish intentions.

            Here she is, on the prowl, so to speak. Whenever she's strutting, showing off her mesmerizing legs, time just stands still for any man who stares. Strangely, nobody seems to remember the man that she used to be. It could be an unintentional side effect of the dark magic. In any case, this was the result of not choosing his words carefully, despite being under the influence. She might not take kindly to being called "a doll" either.

He Was Warned

            He was warned that it was cursed, that whoever should look into it for too long would be dooming themselves to a life of narcissism. Alas, Thad was just one more disbeliever. He thought the elderly woman who warned him was full of baloney.

               Curses aren't real, he thought.

               If only he knew how wrong he was. Once he was home, he and a friend carefully carried the full length mirror to his mother's bedroom. It would only be temporary, until more room was made in their attic. However, Thad caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and paused in his place. He thought he spotted something wrong with his face. Unbeknownst to him, it was only the mirror playing tricks on him, and the curse taking hold.

              "How long have my cheekbones looked like this?" He asked himself, quietly.

              When he looked in the mirror, his cheekbones appeared to be fuller. It also seemed that his lips were slightly swollen. These thoughts haunted him as he walked away from the mirror. He had no idea that the curse was already changing him in mind and body.

              Later that night, before going to bed, Thad found himself returning to the mirror to see if his lips returned to normal size. Instead, he was greeted with the sight of his lips even more swollen, his eyelashes being thicker, and his eyebrows appearing slightly arched in the middle. His facial hair also appeared to be receding, and he hasn't touched his razor in weeks. Now, he was starting to panic. He quietly took the mirror to his room across the hall. Something was most definitely wrong with him.

              The next time he looked in the mirror would hammer home his fears and the words of that aged woman who tried to warn him. It was the very next day. He was lying in bed when he felt something off. Putting a hand to his head, he felt his hair. It had grown supernaturally fast overnight, stopping at his shoulders. The look of horror on his face spoke volumes. His random changes were only getting worse. Yet, it still didn't hit him that they were tied to that full length mirror.

              A pair of scissors later, he got his hair back to the way it was the day before. It would not do him any good, for just mere minutes later, as he was getting his breakfast, his hair started growing again. This time, however, it grew past his shoulders and covered his ears. His remedy only made it worse.

              Why is this happening to me?, he thought. And do my hands look smaller?

              Upon inspection of his hands, they did appear smaller than he remembered. One could say they were daintier. The hairs on the back of his hands were also gone. Looking at his nails, he thought, And why can't I stop staring at my nails? I never realized how ugly they were. Maybe I should get them manicured or...

              He finally came out of his train of thought.

              "Whoa. Now my mind's all messed up, too."

              Several thoughts ran through his mind. There's no way that what just happened with his hair was normal. What was causing these changes? How was he going to hide them from his family and friends? And why was he just thinking about getting a manicure? He was only sure that this wasn't until he got that mirror.

              Whoever should look into this mirror for too long shall doom themselves to a life of narcissism.

              The old woman's words still haunted him as the changes quietly continued. Throughout the week, his head of hair kept growing at a supernaturally fast pace, his jawline reformed, his manhood slowly shrank and reformed into a woman's "mechanism". He kept trying to hide or explain away his changing body, but he couldn't lie to himself anymore: The mirror was connected to his transformation. Yet no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't help but look at his changing body. Making matters worse, his mind kept wandering to thoughts of almost all things girly or feminine.

              What is this mirror doing to me?, he thought, although given his appearance, he looked more and more like a she. With every hour, it feels like I'm losing more of myself to someone else, someone who is changing me into a girl. It's getting harder to hide all this hair, and I can't hide these boobs anymore. They've become too big to tape up. Why do I even bother taping them up? They deserve to be free for every guy with a big rod to see and...

              It happened again. His thoughts stopped being his and became someone else's, a woman's. That, too, was getting harder to control. It wouldn't be much longer before he was completely female in body and mind. One might come before the other, though.

              Aarghh! Stop it! I can fight this. I am still a dude. I can undo this. I can stop fighting the changes and learn to accept my new life. NO! I won't do it! No matter how much I want to brush my long, luxurious hair, letting it grow all the way down to my beautiful, swelling booty. Aaghh! I think she's finally taking complete control of me.

              As he fought over the mental changes, the last of the physical ones began. His breasts and rump swelled to greater size, his waist continued caving in to hourglass proportions, and what was left of his manhood finally receded inside of him, officially making him a her. In addition, her Adam's apple also receded into nothingness, giving her a woman's voice.

              I'm really a girl. This mirror really turned me into a girl! And I would become so hot. This body deserves to be ogled over. No! I should be returning this mirror for doing this to me. I can't let that happen, hon. Maybe you don't want this mirror anymore, but *I* want it, and it looks like you won't be using it anymore. You were warned, you know. I guess curses ARE real, aren't they?

              Some time later...

An Easy Way To Hitchhike

            Nobody knows of a young man's unfortunate curse, save for his close friend and confidant who witnessed him for the first time. The latter watched as quietly as possible from a well-placed window as his friend warped against his will into a well-sculpted vixen, a vixen with an insatiable sex drive. Blonde, curly locks erupted like molten lava from Mount Vesuvius, slowly reaching his waist. Fat from his midsection relocated in globs to his chest and rear end. With every second, two mounds became bigger and bigger. His rump then went through the same thing. What really got to the friend was hearing his voice change.

            As he fell to his knees, his groans became higher, one octave at a time. His "jewelry" shrank away as his voice became undoubtedly feminine. All the remained of his friend was his masculine face, until it began moving around as if made of rubber. The transformation had ended, and a hottie was kneeling in the place of a young man, wearing his clothes that were now very ill-fitting, especially given her spacious "features". Just as the unfortunate voyeur was about to go to her, another strange event took place. She appeared to be having spasms of sorts as, unbeknownst to the friend, a second personality was taking control. Bones snapped loudly, making the scene look like something out of "The Exorcist". Then, just as soon as the spasms started, they stopped, and the victim remained still.

            A few knocks from the door seemed not to faze her. An even closer look revealed breasts of...generous size stretching her t-shirt to the point of tearing it in half. The jeans were faring no better, seemingly ready to rip at any moment. The friend was having difficulty looking anywhere but her massive mounds. A few snaps of his fingers had finally brought her around. She looked at him the same way a deer in a car's headlights looks at the the driver that nearly ran it over. She stood up, towering over the lad and, before he could react, grabbed him and engaged in lip-to-lip love-making.

            He was naturally taken aback but couldn't break away. It was like she had superhuman strength. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get free from her grasp. Eventually, lust took over and he gave up. She was really hot. Finally, she released him and let him go. He was in a haze from that kiss but coherent enough to ask the question, "Who are you?"

            "I...I don't know." Her voice was as breathless as she was shapely. "I don't know what I am."

            Since then, she has shown her true colors to him and many others. She has used allure and her body to brainwash countless men into sex. Fortunately, she has always changed back to being male. Unfortunately, that young man doesn't know where or when he'll change again or how it happens. It has gotten so bad, he had to leave the big city for the countryside. However, it hasn't seemed to stop her from finding a way back into town. Over and over again, she has used her body and sex to hitchhike. A body like hers is close to impossible to ignore on the road, after all.

 

Too Late (Short)

         I had overslept when I promised to look after my schoolmate's female, sex-crazy self. He says that he changes as soon as the sun sets. He showed me a cell phone video of himself changing into her, and I had to admit: She was a dream! Everything about her was perfect: Boobs, hair, legs, and body. I couldn't dwell on it now because I had to rush over to his apartment before he--or SHE could leave it.

        Little did I know that he would already be in the middle of his changes by the time I got there. By the time I reached his floor, I heard loud moans, loud--and feminine--moans. I had knocked on his door when it opened to reveal HER, in a top that squeezed her big breasts together and showed wondrous cleavage. I found myself staring at both her midriff and said cleavage as she gave me a rather disapproving look.

        "You're a perv, you know that?" She said with scorn. Alas, I couldn't help it. She was THAT sexy. 

        "Now could you please get out of the way?!" I did as she asked and stepped aside as she strutted off in her stilettos. I was too late to stop him--HER. All I could do now was watch and-- Then again, maybe I could join her if I asked nicely.

Cursed To Become A Hottie