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Subject: {ASSM} My top ten (tg) #5 [1/3]
Date: Thu, 6 Feb 2003 00:10:02 -0500
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Sorry for the long delay. Here's #5:The Shifter
************
-------------------------
DISCLAIMERS
-------------------------
This story contains scenes of an erotic and/or controversial nature,
and is not intended for the perusal of minors. Further if perusal of
such material is considered illegal in your area or immoral by your
religion or personal beliefs, you should likewise bypass this story.
This story remains the property of the author. Permission is granted
to download, photocopy, copy and repost so long as any such action
contains these disclaimers, and no attempt is made to profit from
this story.
All characters in this story are the creation of the author, and any
resemblance to real persons, alive or dead, are purely coincidental.
This story may contain aspects of fantastic science or magic. The
parameters of what this science/magic can accomplish are completely
at the discretion of me, the author, and, as such, I make no
apologies for any rules of "real" physics, chemistry, biology, or
magic that may be broken within the story.
-------------------------
Now onto the fun stuff
-------------------------
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.
Finally he said, "Well, I wasn't supposed to be here. First day
father-son bonding stuff. I'm only here because of Miss Santuchi's
test in fifth period. I figured you figured I wouldn't be here all
day, so when I got here right after lunch started, I came right here,
figuring you would, too."
"That makes sense. But thinking of your boobs, do you remember your promise?"
He actually had no idea what she was talking about, but figured it
would be really bad to admit that, so he pretended like he knew but
was feigning ignorance and said, "Promise? What promise is that?"
She smiled and swatted his butt playfully. She slid her arm around
his waist. "You promised me that I'd be the first girl to see your
new boobs after they grew in."
Still not sure of anything, he asked, "What about David?"
"David who?"
"David Lewis."
"What about him?"
"Don't you like him?"
"Are you jealous over what I said? I didn't say I liked him. I said
I'd like to see him have sex. I am an average female and he is a
tit-licker."
Not familiar with the term, Peter asked, "Tit-licker?"
"He's a boob-bopper." Seeing Peter was still mystified, she said,
"He's gay. Don't tell me you didn't know?"
"Not really. But you want to see him have sex?"
"Sure. Like most normal girls, I have a fantasy of watching two big
boobed guys going at it. But what about it? You going to let me see
your boobs?"
Peter hadn't figured on showing his boobs off to anyone, but Jess did
seem to like them, and as long as he did have them, he might as well
use them. Deciding to be playful, he said, "Gee, I don't know if I
can. I mean my mom has already seen them, so that might not be
possible."
She kissed him right on his lips. "I guess I'll just have to be
content to be the first girl who isn't family to see them."
"When do you want to see them?"
"As soon as I can. How about you come to my house right after school?"
"It's a date."
"A date without having to buy you dinner? I'm falling in love all
over again." The two settled down and chatted about various things,
classes, which teachers they liked, teachers they didn't, homework,
friends, and other teen things.
As they talked, Peter looked around at those around him. It seemed
that whatever had changed things had kind of equalized dress codes.
Girls still wore dresses and skirts, but didn't wear blouses. If
they did wear shirts, it was something simple like a T-shirt or a
flannel button up. The guys didn't wear dresses or skirts, but did
wear formal blouses like he was wearing or Spandex tops like what his
father had been wearing that morning, all of which were designed to
show off more than a fair bit of cleavage. Both guys and girls wore
heels. Like the dress shoes Peter saw in his closet at home, male
shoes actually had heels like those that, before this morning, he had
seen only on women's shoes. He also noticed that heels were for
dressier outfits and since men tended to dress up more (to show off
their boobs), the number of men in heels outnumbered the women in
heels by almost two to one. He also noticed that neither men nor
women, with the exception of those using it to make a point (Goths,
punks, etc.), were wearing make-up. Even the teachers were
bare-faced.
About twenty minutes before the end of lunch, Jess said, "Well, I got
a test in Math next period, and I got to get some studying done.
Since I'm not going to get that done around you..." She kissed him
and got up. "I've got to go. Meet me after sixth period English."
"See you later." Jess blew him another kiss before she walked off.
Just a minute or two later, Peter realized he had to use the
restroom. He collected his empty tray, returned it to the dirty
dishes area, and headed to the bathroom. Thankful that whatever had
changed the universe around hadn't moved anything, he quickly went in
and got his "equipment" out. Standing in front of the urinal, Peter
saw a roll of toilet paper mounted beside the pipes at the top of the
urinal. He wondered if he was expected to wipe himself when
finished, but realized that with the delicate fabric of his current
underwear in comparison to the cotton briefs he was used to, wiping
was probably a good idea.
As he relieved himself into the urinal, he heard a voice say, "Hi.
Peter isn't it?"
He turned and blanched, seeing David Lewis, the Junior who had been
harassing him since the school year started. It was a David with
large boobs, but still recognizably David. "Yeah, that's me."
David extended his hand. "My name's David."
Peter looked at David, confused. Apparently, in this altered world,
David barely knew him. Peter looked down to his crotch and said,
"I'm kind of busy here."
David pulled his hand back with a sheepish, "Sorry." Peter finished
and wiped himself. David then said, "I couldn't help but notice you
got your boobs today."
"So?"
"I was wondering... Have you ever considered... guys?" Remembering
what Jess had said and seeing David's nervous hesitation, Peter
realized that David had the hots for him.
"For sex?" David nodded. Peter had, many times, but he didn't want
to say anything and have David assume. Maybe this David didn't know
him well, hadn't been harassing him (or maybe just didn't remember
it), but Peter couldn't just forgive what he did remember. "Why?"
David looked down, twirling his foot in a circle. "Peter, I want you
to know that I've always found you attractive, even before boobs, and
I was just wondering if I had a chance."
There it was, out in the open. David wanted sex. Hell, from the
sounds of it, David wanted a real relationship. But Peter was still
stuck on what he suffered before at this man's hands. He wanted to
rant at him, but controlled himself and just said, "No," while
stuffing his penis back into that pouch.
A couple tears escaped David's eyes. He said, "I understand," and turned away.
Part of Peter melted. He didn't want to say yes, but didn't want to
seem so cold. He softly said, "David." The larger boy turned back.
"I want you to know, I am bisexual, but I've got a girlfriend, and I
don't want to risk that." David nodded and turned away, still
dejected.
Peter's heart melted a little bit more. He called out to David
again. Staring at him, Peter warred with himself. David was cute
and Peter couldn't deny a certain attraction. Would a kiss on the
cheek hurt? Would it lead David on? Peter decided to risk it. He
stepped up on his tiptoes to try it, but David surprised him and
swept him up and plastered their lips together. Peter melted into
the kiss, enjoying the feeling of their lips and bodies mashed
together. Peter felt David's semi-erect member pressing into his
body and David's nipples were so tight and erect that they felt like
they were drilling into Peter's breasts.
--
"This is reality, not T.V. Can't you tell the difference?"
"Sure, I just like T.V. better."
jrdss@alaska.net
ICQ#37222294
J R D
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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