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From: "J R D" <jrdss@micronet.net>
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Subject: {ASSM} Shifter Chap 1 [1/4]
Date: Sat, 2 Sep 2000 09:10:02 -0400
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First, an apology. I'm still working on Witch Chronicles and I may need a
partial rewrite, but I had to switch off for a while. I also had major
drive problems that I'm still recovering from. So an apology for not having
WC 11 ready yet.
This is the first chapter in what I hope will be a serial story. Each story
standing independently, but strung together by common characters and a
common theme. You'll see what I mean when you read it.
Please note that all my standard diclaimers are missing. My stationery
file was for Eudora and I haven't switched it over yet. So, in brief:
Characters and story are mine by copyright law; Permission is granted to
post this to any free site so long as the story remains unchanged; and if
you're too young to read this - don't.
************
THE SHIFTER Chap. 1
Peter Wilkins pulled himself out of the mud where he had been dumped. As a
small boy, only five foot, four inches, he was a regular target of boys like
David Lewis and his football buddies. He looked up and saw David and his
crew walking off, laughing at Peter's predicament. As they left, Peter was
sure he saw Jessica Lowe looking back at him with a bit of regret.
As kids, he and Jessica had been best friends, but those times were now long
past. As they grew older, Jess had really developed. She was only five,
four, just like Peter, but had a body like a model. She had large boobs,
curvy hips, and a face that'd light up a room. Peter, on the other hand,
seemed stuck in eternal puberty. On top of his small height, his face still
retained its cherubic kid's appearance, and his body was girlishly slight.
All of which made him a target for all the bullying, big kids. The only
thing about him that wasn't girly was the dick between his legs. Almost as
an insult to the development the rest of his body wasn't showing, his dick
was a massive ten inches when erect, and fairly thick as well.
Jess, as one of the popular girls and David's girlfriend, was usually there
and watching as David harassed Peter. Peter thought he saw her disapproval,
but she never said a thing. Not that Peter blamed her. As a bisexual, if
David had been his boyfriend, he'd probably do the same.
Peter sighed, picked up his books, cleaned them off as well as he could, and
stuffed them back into his bag. He trudged home, feeling more than a bit
depressed. As soon as he walked through the door into his house, his mother
gave him a sympathetic look and said, "Oh, honey, those bullies still giving
you problems?"
Peter plopped his mud covered bag on the table. "What do you think?"
"Aw, buck-up, hun. Tomorrow's your fifteenth birthday. This is no way for
an almost birthday boy to act."
"I'm not feeling real birthday-ish."
"I understand." She pushed a lock of dirty hair out of his face. "Tell you
what. You go upstairs and get cleaned up. I'll bake you some cookies, and
you can drown your sorrows in cookies and milk."
Peter smiled. Mom always knew what he needed. "Thanks, mom," he said as he
leapt off the stool and ran upstairs. A hot shower and change of clothes
later, Peter was happily munching some cookies, drinking milk, and chatting
with his mom.
A couple hours later, his sister, Lorraine, walked in. "Hey, squirt."
Looking at her, an uninformed observer would've been hard pressed to find
any visible similarities betraying their common lineage. Lorraine (Lorrie
to friends and family) was five, eleven, athletic, and physically
well-endowed at a Double D cup. Of course, with both mom and dad's families
donating the genetics for large boobs, that was no surprise.
When Lorrie came in she had been feeling pretty good, but when she saw the
mud covered pack in the corner, her good mood left. "Don't tell me that
that punk, David, and his cronies are still harassing you."
"Yeah."
"Petey, why don't you wait for me after volleyball practice? I can walk you
home."
"Thanks, but I've got to learn to deal with this on my own."
Lorrie gave him a one arm hug. "Alright, but if you ever need me to run
interference, just ask."
"Thanks."
"Anytime. Hey, mom, I'm gonna miss dinner tonight. The principal is
requiring all the inter-mural sports teams to attend the pep rally tonight
for the big football game on Saturday." Although Peter was too young to
understand the reference, he was living in a Norman Rockwell painting. His
mom and dad were happily married, he and his sister rarely fought, and they
almost always had dinner together as a family, so it was actually something
significant that Lorrie would be absent.
Their mother nodded. "I understand."
Lorrie went upstairs and Peter said, "Man, that sucks."
"What?"
"Not only does David harass me, my own sister is required to go and pretend
to support him. Mom, you think dad would mind if I skipped actually going
to the football game?"
"Afraid he would."
Peter nodded. His father, during his high school years, had been a
quarterback, first string his entire senior year. Now, his father was one
of the biggest team boosters in town, and going to all the home games had
become a family affair. Peter shrugged. "I had to ask."
"If it's that important to you, I'm sure your father will understand."
"Naw. I wanna support dad and the team, just not David. At least he's not
first string. If I'm lucky, he won't even get to play." Peter got up and
grabbed his bag.
His mom said, "After you get your books out of that bag, drop it in the
hamper. I'll do an early load tomorrow."
"Okay." Peter ran upstairs and started his homework. About fifteen minutes
in, he saw his sister go by his door on her way out. He whistled at her in
appreciation. "Lookin' hot, sis."
She stopped and modeled briefly. "Thanks. At least I'm not wearing a
sports bra." Lorrie was wearing her uniform as captain of the girls'
volleyball team. Normally, she wore a tight sports bra, but since this was
just a social event she was wearing more casual underwear.
"Whatever you're wearing it's working. Your boobs look great. If I weren't
your brother, I'd do you."
Lorrie laughed. "You and most of the guys in school. Man, sometimes these
things are a hassle. Be glad you don't have any. Hey, after the pep rally,
I'll be going by the supermarket. Want anything?"
"Naw."
"See you later, squirt."
Peter continued his homework until his mom called him for dinner. He, his
mom, and his dad (a six foot, two goliath) had a simple fried chicken
dinner, laced liberally with conversation. After dinner, Peter finished his
homework, then crawled into bed. As he was drifting off, he remembered
Lorrie telling him to be glad he didn't have boobs, and he couldn't help but
wonder what it'd be like to grow a pair of his own.
He woke the next morning to the sound of his mother's voice calling him down
to breakfast. He pulled himself out of his sleepy haze and sat up, feeling
a weird shifting on his chest. He looked down and almost screamed. He had
boobs! Big boobs! He cupped them, lifted them, felt them up a bit. They
felt real. Peter was too shocked to feel anything erotic, but he felt every
sensation. Still staring at his boobs, he did the only thing he could think
of. He screamed, "MOM!"
He was still staring at himself when his mother rushed into the room. She
said, "Oh ho, it looks like my little boy is growing into a man. And what a
growth it is."
When he looked up at his mom, he didn't know what he found more shocking:
the fact that his mom didn't see anything strange about him having a pair of
boobs, or the fact that his mother's own rather prodigious bosom was gone!
All her female curves were there, but her chest was as flat as a board. He
was too stunned to say anything as she smiled and said, "I'll get your
father. He's been looking forward to your first day with boobs almost more
than you." His mom left and Peter just sat there stunned.
Just as he thought the day couldn't possibly get any weirder, his dad walked
in sporting a massive pair of his own breasts! Peter just stared as his
father walked over to the bed and sat beside him. "Hey, sport, here you
were, just last night, worrying whether you'd ever grow a pair of breasts,
and on your birthday, you get these." His dad reached over and gently
lifted one of Peter's boobs. "Too stunned to talk? I understand. My own
breasts were pretty big on their first day, too. Actually, I think you've
got me beat for first day size. Of course, that means you may one day have
tits as big or bigger than me." His dad thrust his chest out, proudly
displaying his massive breasts. "Look, we're going to need to get you a
bra, as well as a bunch of new clothes. No more shopping in the kids'
department for you. You get dressed. I'll get everything prepared." Peter
watched his father leave, wondering if he had stepped into an episode of
"The Twilight Zone," or perhaps if he was just going crazy.
He got out of bed, pulled off his pajama bottoms (he slept topless), and
walked to his dresser, still a little stunned. When he opened his underwear
drawer, it was almost anti-climactic to find all his regular cotton briefs
were gone. In their place were briefs of some weird design. They were made
of some smooth fabric that he guessed was silk. They were also clearly
designed to be a much tighter fit than his old briefs, with some kind of
pouch on the inside front panel. Pulling them on, Peter realized that the
only way that they'd fit comfortably was for him to place his balls and
penis inside the pouch. After pulling them up, he looked in the mirror.
The pouch pulled his genitals just a little bit out from his crotch making
his "package" even more pronounced.
He got out a pair of pants and pulled them on. They fit much tighter than
they used to, seeming to be designed that way. They gripped his butt
tightly and outlined his crotch perfectly. Combined with the underwear,
nothing was left to the imagination.
He got into his shirt drawer, but quickly realized that almost nothing there
would fit him. Everything seemed designed to fit as tightly as they could
if he didn't have breasts. He couldn't even pull them around his boobs. It
took going through most of his tops to find a sweat shirt that would fit
around his tits, and even then it was tight and rubbed his nipples
uncomfortably.
He got out a pair of socks. Those were pretty much the same, except being
made out of a softer, silkier material. He went to his closet for shoes and
found another abnormality. He had most of the same pairs of shoes he
remembered, sneakers, boots, and slippers, but instead of regular dress
shoes, there was a pair of dress heels. Looking at them, they were unlike
any heels he had ever seen before. They were wider and had a different cut.
It took only a few seconds before he realized that they were men's dress
shoes with a heel, and not just a raised heel like on normal men's shoes,
but a pronounced heel like one might find on a woman's shoe. He grabbed his
sneakers and slipped those on, while realizing that those heels were in his
size.
He went downstairs, still self-conscious of the orbs that had just appeared
on his chest. It didn't help when his sister greeted him with a lewd wolf
whistle. He blushed to his toes when she said, "Holy cow, sport, you cannot
imagine how hot you are. You're gonna have to beat off the girls with a
stick." He looked at her, somehow not surprised that Lorrie was as
flat-chested as their mother.
Their mom gave his sister a disapproving look and said, "Lorrie, leave him
alone."
"Come on, mom. He needs to know. Between what's between his legs and his
new boobs, any girl interested in boys is going to want him."
"That's between him and his father. You leave it alone."
"Alright, mom."
"Peter, you sit down and eat up. Your father should be ready any time now."
Peter sat and started scarfing down the pancakes his mother set before him.
No matter what else, his mother's cooking skill was unblunted.
Only a few minutes later, he heard his mom whistle appreciatively and say,
"Honey, you look great."
Peter looked at the stairs and was shocked. His father, previously topless,
was now wearing a tight, Spandex top that hugged every part of him like
Spandex is designed to do. Underneath, the lines of his bra were clearly
visible. Thinking about it, Peter realized that since his dad had tits,
wearing a bra made sense, but seeing his boob-laden dad wearing one (and a
tight, prominently displayed one) was still kind of shocking. The top had a
plunging neckline that exposed a lot of cleavage and his dad was also
wearing a necklace with a sparkling pendant nestled right in the center of
his cleavage. Finishing the outfit, his dad was wearing a pair of pants
much like Peter's own that gripped and displayed his cock for the world to
see.
He walked over to his wife, and they kissed. He then laced his hands behind
his head, giving a little extra lift to his bosom and said, "Now kiss me
like I like it." She shook her head in mock disapproval and planted a kiss
in the center of his boobs. He kissed the top of her head and turned back
to Peter. "Time to go, sport."
His mom said, "Bad news, hun. Peter's fifth period history teacher, Miss
Santuchi, has a big test planned and doesn't give make-up exams. Peter's
got to be back in school after lunch."
"But it's supposed to be our day."
"What can I say? She's an uptight lesbian who doesn't understand father-son
bonding like that in first boob day."
Peter was really confused. There were all sorts of rumors around school
that Miss Santuchi was a lesbian, but his mom was saying it like it was an
established fact, and mom didn't deal in gossip. And what was that test she
was talking about? The only thing it could possibly be was one of the three
unit exams the teacher gave, but he took that last week, and she didn't have
another scheduled for a month.
His father said, "Damn! And tomorrow's the game. I guess we'll have to
reschedule the fun stuff for Sunday. At least we'll be able to get his new
wardrobe. Let's go, sport."
Peter followed his father out to the car. While he waited for dad to unlock
the door, he looked down the road. Every adult man he saw was sporting a
pair of his own boobs, most of the teen boys had a pair, but none of the
young kids did. None of the women had breasts, no matter what age. And
aside from the fact that the boobs were on the guys, they weren't much
bigger then the ones he remembered being on women. Both he and his dad were
bigger than anyone he saw.
Peter got into the car and listened as his father talked about his first day
with boobs. As they drove, Peter wondered what was going on. Here he was,
in the car with his dad, both of them having boobs, and that seemed to be
normal. And from what his dad was saying, his own boobs had just grown in.
Yesterday night, nothing; this morning, huge tits. And this was normal,
too. His father had gone from nothing to a D cup when his had grown in.
Was this some weird dream, or something else?
At one point, his dad asked, "Are you okay, son? You seem really weirded
out."
Not knowing how or even if he should tell his dad what his real problem was,
he said, "Just feelin' like there's something wrong with things. Like the
whole world's been turned on its ear."
"I understand."
"You do?"
Peter's hope that his dad really did know was dashed when his father
replied, "Guys with small boobs don't understand what a transition getting
big boobs is. Hell, you're bigger now than most guys will get in a
lifetime. Of course it's natural to feel a little weirded out."
Peter wondered if he could broach the subject. His dad seemed so proud of
both his own and Peter's big tits. How could Peter tell him that he thought
men weren't supposed to get tits at all?
They pulled into the mall and went inside. Dad headed them straight to a
men's clothing store for "big" boys where Peter couldn't help but notice
that even the male mannequins had large busts. Dad proceeded to help Peter
try on a variety of clothes for his new body. They found out that he was a
double D cup, just like his mom's brother, Frank, was now. Peter was too
stunned to do much more than just go with the flow, but as the day wore on,
he found himself getting into it. When the shopping trip was finished,
Peter and his dad were dressed in matching low-cut blouses (although the
buttons were on the guy's side, they were too pretty and frilly for Peter to
think of them as shirts) and pendants, and Peter was regretting the end of
the day. He was tempted to ask his dad to let him skip school, but mom, a
substitute teacher, would've had a cow.
Dad drove Peter to the school. As Peter got out of the car, his dad said,
"This Sunday, you and me, everything we should've done today."
Peter wasn't sure what that entailed, but he got the impression that his dad
thought he did, so he just said, "It's a date, dad."
Peter went straight to the office and checked in. Just as he left, the
lunch bell rung, so he ran to the cafeteria. He couldn't run as fast as he
normally would, because even in his new bra, his boobs had the annoying
tendency of bouncing every which way.
As he went, the doors opened and people started filing out. Peter quickly
became the center of attention. Most girls openly stared, a bunch whistled
appreciatively, and a few made lewd comments or gestures. Of the men, the
ones Peter knew made encouraging gestures or comments; the rest either
ignored him or stared enviously. Peter wondered if anyone was going to do
anything, but he got to the lunchroom without any serious incidents.
He quickly got his lunch and sat down. Since most of his friends (the few
he had) took lunch at different times, he was alone as usual. He figured on
staying alone for the entire lunch, but just as the rest of his world had
been changed, so did that. He had munched down half of the cafeteria pizza
he had ordered when someone sat right beside him. He turned and gulped. It
was Samantha "Don't Call Me Sam" Morgan, the queen of the school's Goth
clique. She was in her standard outfit, black clothes, hair dyed black to
match, and skin powdered to look as pale as possible. Peter had always
found her incredibly sexy, but also incredibly scary. She had a look that
would simultaneously make you want to screw her and to run from the room.
Peter wondered what she wanted when she made her intentions perfectly clear.
She reached over and cupped his far breast, saying, "I see you've finally
grown. Want to go somewhere and let me show you how a woman can really
handle a man?" She squeezed his boob, firmly without being painful about
it.
Peter didn't know what to say or do. He wasn't sure he wanted to get
involved with Samantha; her passion for flouting the "system" made her a
prime trouble magnet. But she was sexy (even without boobs) and her hand on
his boob sure did feel good.
Peter didn't have to decide what to do. Before this could go on, a voice
said, "Alright, Samantha, that's enough."
Samantha looked to the voice out of the corner of her eye, then stared right
at Peter and asked, "Do you want me to stop, Peter?" Peter wasn't sure
whether he did or not, but he couldn't muster the will to say a thing.
A hand grabbed Samantha's arm and removed it from Peter's body. Samantha
smiled a sly smile and got up. Peter's eyes followed her as she stood next
to the girl who had interfered, and he saw that it was Jessica who had
rescued him. He wondered what was going to happen when Samantha grabbed
Jess and gave her a blatant French kiss. Strangely, Peter found that
weirdly comforting. Samantha, like Peter, was bisexual, but, unlike Peter,
was blatant and open about it. She had even gone so far as to publicly
grope boys and girls she was interested in. Seeing this bit of familiarity
after all the other weirdness helped to put Peter at ease.
Jess tolerated a second or two of the kiss before pushing Samantha away.
Samantha said, "If you're ever willing to try women, or ever willing to
share, dearie, give me a call." Jess just shook her head as the Goth Queen
strode off.
Peter said, "Thanks," and turned back to his food.
Peter figured that Jess was just doing an old friend a favor, so he was
eminently surprised when she sat beside him, said, "Just protecting my
boyfriend," and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Peter stared at her in
amazement as she said, "And you know that, unlike these sluts, I liked you
before you got your boobs." Jess picked up the pizza slice off Peter's tray
and took a bite. "So why didn't you meet me after third period?" Peter was
still too stunned to respond, and after a few seconds, Jess asked, "Are you
okay? You seem a little spacy."
Peter stared at her for a little while longer before he pulled himself
together and said, "Uhm, it's my boobs. I got so much all at once that
everything seems a little off. Dad says it's not unusual and it should
pass."
"Okay. So why didn't you meet me?"
Peter wondered what to say. He couldn't very well use the truth. Whatever
had put him into this Twilight Zone reality had made him and Jess boyfriend
and girlfriend. He couldn't just say, "Well, I didn't meet you because I
thought you wouldn't talk to me because your boyfriend didn't like me."
She'd think he was nuts.
------------
Send all comments, suggestions, etc. to
J R D
jrdss@micronet.net
I can be reached while online at ICQ# 37222294
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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