The Body Stylist
Magic returned to our world in the year 2012. The exact date is hard to pin down because strange stories had been circulating in the media throughout the year. People suddenly gaining strange powers, others transformed in bizarre ways, the appearance of creatures from myths and legends filled the tabloids. This was not really that different from their normal fare of Elvis sightings and crop circles, but who would have guessed that they were finally getting it right?
Most of the world was roused from its mundane slumber on October 11th, 2012, at 9:32 PM Eastern. The Global News Network (GNN), along with other networks from around the world, was covering the latest round of talks between the new Middle Eastern Union and the United States and its allies. Reporter Alison McTaggert was speaking earnestly into a camera from her vantage point in front of the United Nations building.
“Delegates have been huddling all day in a closed session of the Security Council,” she was saying. Her trademark honey-blonde hair was blowing a bit in the breeze. Carefully applied makeup lent her wide grey eyes and girlish face a look that was sexy and yet professional, as did her dark blue suit dress and lacey ivory blouse. “Our sources tell us that there is a great deal of optimism being expressed by both sides. We may be just days from an historic announcement: the final end of the War on Terror and a new era of – erk!“
Ms. McTaggert’s opinion on the state of world affairs would have to wait. An entirely different era was dawning before her viewers’ eyes. Millions watched as her blouse ripped open, the lapels of her suit-dress forced apart by the sudden expansion of her bosom. Her formerly modest breasts bounced into view as they swelled to proportions that would make a stripper blush. The odd thing, surprisingly, was not the explosive growth of her chest. While certainly strange it was not nearly as bizarre as her enlarged nipples which had somehow become a vibrant shade of blue.
“What the fuck!” Her producers must be forgiven for not bleeping out her profanity. They, like everyone else in the audience, were mesmerized by the changes happening to their reporter. Those who could tear their eyes from her bare breasts – mainly the female half of the audience – saw that her hair had changed as well. It was thicker, fuller, and a startling neon blue that matched the odd color of her nipples. Her skin tone had brightened, becoming almost yellow instead of its normal golden tan. Her lipstick could not conceal the fact that her mouth was wider, her lips fuller and rapidly changing from their normal pink to a soft azure.
Alison looked up from her suddenly bounteous breasts, her eyes wide with fright as her hands cupped her mountainous new endowments. Her eyes seemed impossibly large and slightly canted; the pupils large and dark. Her ears had flattened against her head and the lobes had rearranged themselves into a more delicate, shell-like appearance. She appeared to about to speak again, most likely in a way that would once more violate FCC regulations, when she suddenly dropped from view.
The cameraman, to his credit, hesitated only a moment before he did his job and followed her down. There, lying on the sidewalk in front of the UN, was Alison McTaggert, intrepid GNN reporter and now breathtakingly beautiful mermaid. Waves of bright blue hair framed her face and body. Her skin was now covered in a fine layer of scales, bright yellow on her chest and face, bright blue on her back and the tops of her arms. Her massive breasts capped with their odd blue nipples wobbled amongst the tattered remains of her blouse with her panicked breathing as her hands slid down her skirt. Below the hem, her trim legs had merged into a sleek tail covered in larger scales that glittered blue and gold in the same pattern as her upper body. The cameraman had trouble keeping all of her in view, partly because of the tail’s length and partly because of the way it kept flipping about, its iridescent fin flopping against the pavement as Alison watched her new appendage’s behavior in complete astonishment.
And so it was that one reporter and the millions of people in her audience had their first experience with the return of magic. Alison McTaggert succeeded in her life-long ambition in a way she could never have predicted, as she and her new tail would be the headline story of every major news cast, magazine, paper, and web site in the world. She would soon learn how to live as a mermaid. Whether the world would learn to live with magic was another question entirely.
Everyone remembers where they were when Alison McTaggert sprouted bright blue nipples and a scaly tail, just like they knew where they were when 9/11 happened. I was one of the many people who missed the GNN broadcast that night. I normally kept close tabs on politics and current events, especially when it came to the War on Terror. After all, I had spent several years of my life driving around the desert in the early, more visible parts of that war so I had a lot of interest in its outcome. That night, though, I was once more attending night classes after putting in a long day at work.
My parents would have been surprised to see me striving so hard. They had tried their best, along with the school system in Lafayette, Indiana, to teach me some kind of work ethic. I was one of those kids that succeeded at most things I tried without too much effort. I breezed through high school with B’s and C’s and was happy. I played a little football and baseball, in both cases well enough to be second string. I was good looking enough to date plenty of girls but never for more than a few weeks. I had a lot of fun along the way and could not see why I needed to do any more than I was.
I at least knew what I wanted to do at college, so I figured I was one step up on many of my classmates. I had always been fascinated by buildings and construction, from my Tonka toys and Bob the Builder when I was a kid to my sketchbooks that I filled with layouts and skylines as a teenager. When I was old enough to drive I would spend whole days in Chicago and Indianapolis sketching buildings, statues, plazas, and people. My work was good enough to earn consistent A’s in art and to convince me I should enroll in Purdue’s architectural degree program.
Calling my first semester at Purdue an eye-opener would not do it justice. It turned out, much to my surprise, that architecture was a lot more than drawing things. They expected me to study math, physics, material sciences, city planning and many other topics that did not interest me at all. It seemed far too much effort to me, so I joined the Army.
People with experience in the military, like my uncle George, thought this was hilarious. I soon found out why. College had nothing on the Army when it came to hard work. The physical side was demanding, of course, but I had always been somewhat athletic and found I could handle it. The mental side was much more challenging than I had anticipated. People expected me to know everything about my new profession and to do it right the first time, no matter what the circumstances. The other people in my tank relied on me to do my job just as I relied on them to do theirs. When the war began there were a few times when our lives literally depended on it.
Just like my first semester at Purdue, this was a revelation to me. The Army did not succeed in making a career soldier of me but it did teach me a little something about perseverance and responsibility. When the shooting war ended and the long stealth war began, I returned to the States and to school, this time in Indianapolis. I still was not thrilled about the math classes, but found the physics of it interesting. It was not long before I earned my associate’s degree and started working for a design firm in Indianapolis.
The job was surprisingly easy. Too easy, actually. The two senior partners, Sadler and Fisk, did most of the real design work and parceled out the tedious stuff to a bunch of interns and younger designers like me. I understood the reasoning behind their methods. After all, they had years of experience and education and therefore logically had to take the lead role. I still did not like finding myself in a tiny cube checking measurements against building codes and translating two dimensional layouts into three dimensional models. I realized that if I wanted to go farther I would have to have more than an associate’s degree and enrolled in evening classes with money from a veteran’s program.
What little social life I had evaporated, but I was happy. In another year I would have my bachelor’s degree and I had even considered going for a master’s. The partners in the firm had spoken very positively of my work and praised me for pursuing more education. While it had taken me longer than most people it appeared my career was on track.
It was after eleven that fateful night before I found my way to my beat-up little pickup. I was grumbling as I went because I had to be at the office early the next morning. I threw a CD in the truck’s ancient player to help me stay awake. I did not have one of the newer MC (Media Card) stereos, but that was fine with me. Those MCs hold hundreds of hours of music but my trip from campus to apartment was all of fifteen minutes. Just enough time to listen to a few old Sammy Hagar tunes before I pulled into the apartment building’s parking lot.
My apartment was small but the building was at least relatively new. It had the basics: a tiny bedroom, a kitchen / dinette, and a living room big enough for my computer desk, TV, recliner, and a battered old couch. I tossed my keys on the dinette table and headed for the fridge. I figured one beer and a little news would not hurt before bed.
And so it was that I plunked myself down in my recliner so blissfully unaware that I was in a strange new world. One push of a remote control button later, my jaw was on the floor as I watched the GNN reporter screaming at the sight of her new fin. Like a lot of people, I wanted to believe that this was just a computer-generated special effect. If it were a fake, though, why was it done? If it were real, then we were faced with either magic or incredibly advanced science. I took a long swig of beer at the thought.
GNN seemed unsure how to handle the story. An anchorman was earnestly saying something about an ongoing investigation into the evening’s events and urging people to be calm while the experts determined what had happened. I snorted at that. What experts were they going to bring in? Was Merlin or maybe Gandalf available? I grabbed the remote again and changed channels several times only to find that every single one was showing and saying the same thing. Only the faces of the reporters changed; they were otherwise identical with their professional looks of concern and just a touch of skepticism.
I fell asleep after a few hours and a few more beers, tired of watching different pundits attempt to explain the impossible. Their theories were growing progressively more bizarre as the night wore on. This was worse than 9/11. The human mind can grasp the fact that someone plowed a plane into a building, if not the why of it. The various news directors, anchors, and reporters were out of their depth on this one though. One network had a stage magician on, assuring everyone else that this was a simple trick and that he knew how it was done. Another had a woman who claimed not only to be a witch but that she had been the one that transformed the hapless reporterette. She declined to repeat her supposed feat though, even when the frazzled host of the show dared her to do so.
I woke up the next morning with a start. A loud thump had woken me and now I heard footsteps in the hallway. I checked my watch and saw that it was just after 6. “It’s the workout babe,” I muttered and pried myself from the chair. I stumbled to the door and peered through the eyehole just in time to see her passing by. She was an older woman, at least forty-five, but she worked out every single day and it showed. She reminded me of some of the female soldiers I had known – trim, athletic, and confident. Not really my type but I could appreciate watching her despite the guilt I felt over being a voyeur. Sometime, I decided, I should really introduce myself to her.
I turned the 3d back on to see that while the workout babe was keeping her normal routine, the rest of the world was still agog over the night’s events. The normally chipper morning news crews were just as dumbfounded as the ones from the night before. Each network already had some sort of tagline for the story, ranging from “Magic or Myth?” to “Mermaid Mystery” to “Magic Returns?” Most of them even had graphics featuring mermaid images as a backdrop for their taglines.
My own reaction was a strange kind of numbness. There were of course questions bouncing around in my brain, the same questions that the talking heads had been asking each other all night. How could it happen? Was it real? Would it happen again? Why Alison McTaggert, and why a mermaid? And so on. The only difference was that there were now reports of similar events happening in other parts of the world. There was even a new video that had joined Alison’s transformation on the networks’ heavy rotation list. This one showed a strange creature flying through the air that looked just like a pegasus – hooves, wings, and all – flying over downtown Kansas City. As for the reporter-turned-mermaid, word had it that experts ranging from doctors to ichthyologists to Wiccans had gathered to examine her at an undisclosed location.
I had no idea what to do about flying horses or water breathing reporters, so I went to work. I had considered staying home but there was nothing I could do there except watch endless repeats of the same stories and all the unanswered questions. I was the first one in so for at least a time my little cube was a haven of peace and quiet. It was not much to look at. One office chair for me and a few tiny and very uncomfortable chairs for visitors filled most of the floor space. A built-in desk with little on it except my computer gear was the main feature. My setup was old-school. I still used a 2D flat screen monitor for a lot of my work. The 3D viewer next to it was generally only for seeing the final results of my work. I still used a keyboard, which earned me a lot of teasing. Most people had switched to a either voice or digital pen a long time ago. I just could not get used to talking to a computer and my handwriting was the bane of even the most advanced recognition software. A large digitizer pad was really my main tool anyway, allowing me to draw and manipulate plans quickly.
A shelf above the cluttered desk held a stack of books, some rolled up blueprints, and a few photos. One framed set was my parents, smiling with that “hurry up and take the picture” look in their eyes. Another was my platoon clustered around one of our tanks in the desert. I was the one pointing at the spray painted logo on the tank’s main gun that read “Group Therapy.” My best friend Gary was mugging at the camera from the commander’s hatch, trying hard to look like James Dean in desert camo.
I barely had time to login to the computer and read a few emails before others began to arrive. Jerry was the first, surprisingly enough. He was one of our two interns and the prototypical geek: slightly chubby and always in need of a shower, not to mention some clothes that weren’t t-shirts. I think he only came into the office because the computer there was better than the one in his apartment. Jerry was normally came dragging in a few minutes late and strung out from all-night online role playing sessions. He must have had his coffee this morning because he was positively perky. “Dude, I think I’m in love,” he told me.
“Let me guess. You have a thing for mermaids.”
He snickered. “Well, yeah. You don’t think she looked sexy?”
“Sexy? She was screaming her head off.”
“Of course he thought that was sexy. He’s used to women screaming around him,” came another voice. It was our other intern, Ryan. Physically at least he was completely different from Jerry. He was a cross-country runner for his college and had that long, lean look that distance runners have. He was just as much a geek as Jerry, though. For proof you only had to look as far as the collection of Star Wars Episode 7 action figures on his cubical shelf.
“Hah, hah,” said Ryan. “You telling me you didn’t think she was hot?”
“Are you kidding? Did you see those nips? They got huge. And her hair was the same blue as Aiko’s!” I blinked at Jerry and he rolled his eyes. “It’s only the hottest anime 3D out there. You are way too old, man.”
“Old?” I said in my best geezer voice. “Why you young whippersnapper! I’ll get you as soon as I find my cane!”
They both laughed…a little too loudly for my taste. I was barely over thirty but to this group that qualified as old.
“Well, the gang’s all here I see,” said a calm feminine voice. It was the last member of our little team, Barb Landers. She was a perky brunette who handled most of our IT work at the office as well as doing some drafting herself. She was also the prettiest techno-geek I had ever met, with big brown eyes that could be sweetly innocent or piercing depending on her mood. The fact that she refused to date me only proved the quality of her judgment and good taste. I had eventually gotten over my wounded pride and found that she was a good friend.
“Talking about the news, I assume?” said Barb as she set her purse down in the cube beside mine. “It’s obvious this whole thing was faked. I could do better effects with my computer.”
“Fake?” I wondered. “Why? What would anyone gain from it?”
“Well, I haven’t quite figured that part out yet. But there is simply no way she actually changed into a fish—“
“Mermaid!” chorused the interns.
“—whatever. Anyway, women don’t grow scales. And even if they did, how could something part fish and part human live? Part warm blooded and part cold blooded? Air breathing and water breathing? It’s just silly. Mermaids are a stupid myth invented by lonely sailors and this whole thing is some sort of publicity stunt.”
“What about the pegasus?” I wondered.
“That just proves my point!” She was on a roll now, no doubt about it. “No way could a winged horse fly. The weight alone would be way too much for the lift of those wings. And the aerodynamics is just all wrong. It has to be a fake.”
“Hold on. If you’re right, then GNN is in a lot of trouble. There are people examining the reporter now. There is no way any sort of costume would fool anyone over the age of five, so if it is a hoax we’ll know right away. GNN is a news network – if they were caught doing something like that they might as well close up shop. So why would they do it?”
Barb did not say anything for a moment. The two interns were smirking at her and I have to admit I was pretty pleased with myself. It is not often that I can leave her speechless.
Today was no exception.
“OK, that just means that GNN didn’t do it. The reporter could have, if she knows the right people.”
“That just means that now her career is over, too. She would have the same problem as GNN – no credibility, no job.”
Barb waggled a finger at me. “Unless she was paid to do it by a rival network. They get some of their graphics guys to do the effects, pay her and her cameraman to play along, and now GNN looks like complete fools and the rival network will get lots of publicity when they ‘uncover’ the hoax. It’s perfect. The competition goes out of business in a very messy way, they get to report on the events, and McTaggert writes a book and hits the lecture circuit.”
The interns and I exchanged looks. “Barb,” I said gently. “You really should cut back on the coffee. The caffeine is starting to affect your brain! Next you’ll be telling me that black helicopters or some super secret government agency is involved too.”
“I’m telling you, this is a major hoax—“
“If you’re correct, Miss Landers, then they certainly have succeeded in capturing your attention, along with the rest of my staff,” said a familiar voice behind me. I knew without looking that its owner was the Sadler portion of Sadler and Fisk LLC. The wide-eyed looks from my co-workers would have told me that even if I had not recognized his voice.
I put on my best innocent expression and looked over my shoulder. Mr. Sadler was a short, thin man who had long ago given up the battle with his fading hairline and gone bald. The impeccable suits, gold round-rimmed glasses, and sometimes fussy manners gave him the air of an accountant instead of a well-known architect. His partner, Joe Fisk, was his opposite in many ways, a beefy man with an incredibly loud voice and rough sense of humor who had started his career driving a bulldozer while putting himself through school. They were generally good bosses but tended to intimidate the younger employees, surprisingly Sadler more than Fisk.
“Why good morning, Mr. Sadler,” I said. “Don’t you think it’s appropriate that your staff keep track of world events? After all, mermaids are bound to have special needs. Access ramps, long bath tubs, and of course pools. And a barn for pegasuses – or is that pegasi – would have to have some sort of landing platform, wouldn’t it?”
Mr. Sadler gave me a wink before harrumphing loudly. “I expect my staff to work while they are here, not gossip, especially interns who are paid hourly.” Ryan and Jerry vanished into their cubes so quickly I thought perhaps magic really did exist and chuckled. My boss had a dry sense of humor, but he did have one. He returned my smile and asked innocently, “So you have already ‘landed’ the McTaggert account, have you?”
I laughed out loud despite the groans from the others that floated over the cube walls. What can I say? I am a sucker for a good pun. Or even a bad one.
With that, he and I turned our attention to my current project. We were finishing up the design of a new library for Morgan County and some of their officials would be in later that day to review the design with Mr. Sadler. I had been preparing a 3D walkthrough for the project and had a rough draft for Mr. Sadler to review. I brought up the library on the holographic display and we spent an hour or so going over it and discussing some minor changes that he wanted. Most of the changes were small ones that I was able to make as we spoke but there were several key ones that would take more time.
I spent the rest of the morning modifying the library’s floorplan and trying to ignore the interns. They were furtively surfing the web and talking about more transformations and other odd happenings. There were reports of people who suddenly became younger or older, changed genders, assumed a new race, even turned into animals or mythical creatures. Some changed in more than one way, like an aging black high school teacher who transformed into a gorgeous teenaged Asian girl with bright blue hair while she was writing on the chalkboard. The blue hair matched the furry feline ears that had replaced her normal ones, as well as the long tail that swished behind her. Supposedly the transformed teacher had continued writing and talking as though nothing had happened and did not think anything was different about her. I think the interns were in love with the new cat girl, or at least lust.
Then there was a family in New Jersey that had all turned into a strange mix of deer and human. Jerry had downloaded a series of pictures of them that he insisted on showing me. They had brown pelts on their backs that became creamy white on their fronts. Their legs ended in dainty hooves and cute little tails waved over their bottoms. Their arms were pretty much the same but their hands had only three fingers and a short thumb, each tipped in hoof-like material. Long ears framed faces that featured short muzzles but quite human eyes. The does were nearly identical, with curving feminine torsos topped by firm but quite human breasts under their fur, while the buck had a powerful torso, an eight-point rack on his head, and an impressive furry sheath between his legs. No one was quite sure which deer-morph was which, though judging by eye colors it seemed that the husband, daughter, and son were all does while the wife was now a stag. The new herd not only appeared content with their situation but also seemed intent on creating more of their kind.
Transformations were not the only news though. A man who otherwise looked completely normal had supposedly robbed a bank in Cleveland using a form of hypnosis or mind control. He just walked in and told people to give him money and not to sound an alarm. Everyone in the bank had happily gone along with what he said, including turning off the security cameras and erasing the images they had already recorded. Following his orders, they did not even call the police until hours after he left and none of them could quite remember what he looked like.
In Houston, a mysterious flying woman had appeared in the skies and proceeded to perform a one-woman aerial acrobatics show. She did not appear to have wings or any other way to make herself fly, but she was surrounded by a glowing blue nimbus that trailed behind her. Ryan had downloaded a 3D of her for his desktop projection pad. Since his cube was across from mine, I could see the tiny woman swooping and swirling above his desk in a never-ending loop that I was already annoyed with.
The other news that caught my ear was that President Rice would be making some announcements that evening. I was pretty sure all she wanted to do was placate people and let them know the government was doing its job, but still I was looking forward to seeing it. Even former solders can use some reassurance at times.
I should have been done with the walkthrough much sooner but I found it almost impossible to concentrate with the babbling from the interns. Finally, to my immense relief, they went to lunch and the area was quiet. It is amazing what a little concentration will do – in less than an hour I did as much work as I had the rest of the morning. I rose from my chair and stretched, glad to finally have a break.
Barb must have seen me stretching over the cube wall. “Lunch time?” she wondered from her cube. “It’s a little late, isn’t it?”
I checked my watch and groaned. “I got behind thanks to our two chatterboxes,” I said as she stepped out of her cube and leaned against the doorway of mine. “I never grabbed lunch and now I’ve only got five minutes till our bosses show up.”
She smirked. “That’s you, Last Minute Dan. Things always seem to work out that way for you, don’t they?”
I rolled my eyes at her. “Sorry, we cannot all be as perfect as you.”
“Why, thank you for noticing!” she said in a mock-haughty tone that made me laugh. It also reminded me of why I had been attracted to her when we first met. I love it when she smiles like that, I thought to myself. I found myself idly wishing we had become an item – and then I realized I was staring when her laugh faded and she gave me a quizzical look.
“I didn’t notice you going out for lunch,” I said quickly to cover up for my ogling. “Problem?”
“No,” she said. “I just…” She grimaced. “I was going to say I didn’t feel like eating but that’s not entirely true. I didn’t want to be in the break room or a restaurant with all the rumors and stories flying around, you know? I’m just sick of hearing about it.” She paused. “Danny, do you think all this is real?”
I shook my head and met her worried gaze. I fought a sudden urge to take her in my arms and comfort her in ways that would make her forget all about the news of the day. I shook my head, trying to clear it of naughty thoughts. “I have no idea. But it certainly seems like too much to be a publicity stunt or a hoax, doesn’t it? And now the President is going to have a press conference. Sounds serious to me.”
She sighed. “I wonder if I should call my folks?” I was about to tell her that would be a good idea when she disappeared back into her cube, only to be replaced a moment later by Mr. Sadler. Joe Fisk was behind him, filling the corridor. He was a tall man with the kind of build that had a lot of muscle if not much definition. He was squeezed into a dark blue suit, something I knew he hated. Normally he wore jeans and a flannel or denim shirt. “How’s the presentation? You ready to go?” he wondered.
I nodded. I really wanted to tease him about the suit but today he was all business. I suspected he was focusing on the upcoming meeting rather than try to deal with the bizarre stories in the news. He reminded me of my platoon sergeant on a mission – nothing else mattered until the mission was over. Mr. Sadler seemed just as focused, so I waved them to my guest chairs and brought up the revised walkthrough, trying to emulate their intensity and ignore the stray thoughts about Barb that were still wandering around in my subconscious.
For a while it worked. Joe was enthusiastic about the library project and liked what I had done with the demo. As usual, his partner had little to say but there was a gleam in his eye that I knew was the closest he would come to an actual smile. I had just started showing them the second storey when I felt a stirring in my crotch, a sudden sensitivity that was entirely out of sync with the dry presentation I was giving my bosses. I caught my breath at the sensation, earning me a raised eyebrow from Mr. Sadler. I cleared my throat and continued.
“As you can see, we’ve increased the width of this corridor to meet with the fire marshal’s requirements,” I told them. “Also we added a closet next to…umm…” My words trailed off in shock. The stirring had become an erection that was rapidly swelling and beginning to tent my pants. I quickly moved the digitizing tablet from my desk to my lap and crossed my legs to hide the growing bulge. Nothing like this had happened to me in years. It was as though I was back in middle school, with puberty-induced hormones raging through my system.
“Hey, are you alright?” asked Joe. “You’re looking a little green around the gills.”
I drew a shaky breath. “Yes, I’m sorry. Just a little out of breath I think, maybe a little feverish. Must be a cold coming on.” Joe looked dubious. I quickly went back to describing the second storey, trying to ignore the swelling in my trousers. It was getting more and more difficult to do so, though. This was not just a “woody.” I could feel my penis straining at the fabric of my pants. My heart was pounding and causing my cock to throb to its rhythm. I had not felt such an overwhelming need since little Stacey Hudlow and I had both lost our virginities in her parent’s Chrysler. For a moment I was lost in that memory, remembering her scent, the touch of her skin on mine, her voice in my ear.
“Are you ready to move on?” prompted Mr. Sadler. I blinked and turned my attention back to the 3D display. Mr. Sadler kept me going through the rest of the walkthrough , asking questions here and there that prodded me along. He must have realized that something was wrong but I am sure he was thinking mainly about the meeting with the clients that was now only a few minutes away. Joe was unusually quiet, his brow furrowed as he watched me. For my part, I was just praying for the meeting to be over so I could get to the bathroom and see what was going on with me. My embarrassingly erect manhood seemed to like that idea, surging almost painfully against my leg and the underside of the digitizer pad.
Finally I was done with my presentation. Mr. Sadler seemed satisfied but Joe had a question about the crawlspaces. I groaned, wanting to get out of the cube and to the bathroom. I lost track of what he was saying, though, as I felt my cock suddenly swell in my pants. I had thought I was already erect but I could feel it getting larger, larger than it had ever been. I squirmed in my seat as excitement became desire. I wanted to plunge my aching cock into something, anything, to relieve the tension that was building inside me.
“Dan?” asked Mr. Sadler as Joe said, “What’s up, man?”
I looked up at them, meeting Joe’s bluff brown-eyed look and Mr. Sadler’s piercing grey eyes, and could not answer. The need to relieve my aching cock continued to build, but I realized it was different from normal. My whole body was trembling with desire and a need for release. My cock surged again in my pants and I yelped at the mixture of pain and pleasure it caused. Another surge, and my cock swelled so fast that it knocked the digitizer pad out of my lap. I gasped at the sight. The light cotton of my pants was stretched taut around a shaft that was much larger than the one I woke up with that morning. I had been strictly average in that department all my life, but now my pants could barely contain me.
“Son. Of. A. Bitch,” said Joe. “What in the hell is going on here!”
I heard him but only dimly. I no longer cared about him or Mr. Sadler. All that mattered was the burgeoning desire that was filling me. My heart was pounding so hard I could hear it in my ears. I was panting more than breathing. I had to have some release of the pressure, and it had to be now. My fingers fumbled with my zipper, ripping it down and freeing my cock. It rose above my lap, much longer and thicker than I had ever seen it. I joyfully gripped it and began to stroke it despite the shocked looks on Sadler and Fisk’s faces.
“That is enough! Stop that immediately!” ordered Mr. Sadler. He was too late. I was already on the brink and with a few more rough strokes of my hand I began to cum.
It was the single most amazing orgasm of my life. My entire body thrummed with waves of pleasure that pulsed from my enlarged cock. That was not all, though. A sudden sense of vertigo accompanied the pleasure. The room seemed to rise around me and I had to keep pivoting my chin up to meet my bosses’ gazes. Their eyes were growing wide and Joe began to utter a string of profanity like none I had heard since Basic Training.
By all rights I should have joined him in his cursing. I knew I was shrinking – the twin thumps of my shoes hitting the floor as my feet slipped out of them certainly told me that – but I was not shocked or frightened. I was more aroused than I had ever been in my life. My skin felt alive, sensitive, glowing with pleasure.
I dimly realized that Ryan, Jerry, and Barb were standing behind my bosses now, all of them watching me. Mr. Sadler noticed and snapped, “Jerry, call 911 right now. Tell them, oh hell just tell them to get here!”
I believe that was the first and last time I ever heard him curse. He had good reason. Another powerful orgasmic wave swept over me and I felt a wonderful erotic tingle start in my chest. It was like the surging warmth that had spread through my groin earlier. My shirt became tight across my chest, and was getting tighter. I writhed in pleasure and rubbed my hands across my changing chest as my sensitive nipples hardened against the fabric. I could actually feel them growing and the flesh under them swelling, sliding against my shirt front. In seconds twin conical mounds formed that rounded as they grew and filled my hands. I was moaning steadily as the globes thrust out from my chest, pulling at the seams of my shirt. The growth accelerated and gaps appeared between the buttons of my shirt. One gave up the fight and popped off, revealing a vast expanse of smooth silky flesh.
Barb approached me, whether to reassure me or try to help me somehow I’m not sure. She stopped in her tracks though when the third wave washed over me. My groans became strangely high pitched yips of pleasure. Coppery red curls of hair were falling into my eyes. My bottom seemed to rise on the chair as it and my hips assumed new curves. There was also the strangest sensation at the base of my cock, a tugging and stretching sensation that was soon replaced by a growing warmth and wetness that even in my orgasmic haze I needed to explore. My probing fingers soon found a smooth vertical slit with fleshy lips that eagerly parted at the touch to reveal slick warm flesh within.
That tipped me over the edge and a final orgasm rocked my body. I am sure my heart skipped several beats and I was gasping desperately for breath. Through the orgasmic haze I felt further changes occurring. I shrank again, my clothes enveloping my smaller body, my cock receding back into my pants, my legs aching as they stretched and slimmed, my stomach fluttering and twisting, even the flesh of my face seemed to have a life of its own.
And then, just as suddenly as it had arrived, the erotic sensations and volcanic orgasms faded, leaving me panting for air and suddenly, painfully aware of my new reality.
Most obvious were the additions to my body. Twin mounds of flesh had burst through the fabric of my cotton dress shirt and bobbled obscenely in front of me. Somehow I had grown breasts, undeniably female, outrageously abundant, and distressingly mine. I could actually feel the big pink nipples hardening in the cool office air. Thick ringlets of coppery hair draped over my shoulders and rested on the slopes of my improbable bosom. My dark blue pants were stretched to their limits at the hips but loose at my waist. I raised a hand and saw that long nails adorned fingers that were now dainty and covered in fine ivory flesh.
What I had lost was less obvious. I soon realized that I had to look up to see the computer monitor and even further to see the shocked expressions on my co-workers’ faces. My feet now swung in the air well above the carpet and I wondered how short I was. My limbs were disguised by my clothes but were obviously thinner, my sleeves and pant legs pooling around them. I was suddenly concerned about what else I may have lost and thrust my hands into my pants. As I did so I dimly realized that people were babbling all around me in voices that were growing shriller by the moment. Only Barb’s voice seemed somewhat calm. She was telling someone to get a coat or something. I ignored them. I had to know the extent of my changes.
I was surprised at what I found because by now I was sure I had turned completely into a girl. I soon found the shaft of my penis, though, which made me simultaneously relieved and puzzled. My male member was not as monstrously large as it had been before but it still felt strangely large in my grasp and definitely out of place between my suddenly smooth thighs. My concerns returned, though, when I moved my hand lower and found that my testicles were gone. Instead my fingers discovered the soft mound and moist vertical slit I had felt earlier. I knew what I was touching of course. I had been with enough women to recognize the soft folds of flesh for what they were. What I wasn’t ready for was the vaguely pleasurable sensation of fingers touching my nether lips.
That little thrill of pleasure finally completed the puzzle for me. Somehow I had become a creature that was both male and female. A freak. A hermaphrodite. And judging from the swellings in my shirt and my crotch, an embarrassingly well-endowed one. I considered the situation for a moment and then did the only reasonable thing I could think of.
I screamed until the paramedics came to sedate me.