"I'm a girl," whispered Thomas. In spite of all the supporting evidence - a pair of small breasts and the decidedly feminine mound at his crotch being the most notable - he still didn't want to believe what had happened. "I don't want to be a girl."

"Just what's wrong with you being a girl, Theresa?" asked Alan. "I'm sure you know that we'll be able to do things together now we never even dreamed of doing together before."

Thomas stared at Alan in angry disbelief. "What the hell did you do to me? How the hell did you do it?" Thomas ran his now smaller hand slowly through his mass of soft and silky, shoulder-length dark brown hair. It was a far cry from his formerly sparse, mostly white, short hair. "Why am I a girl, Alan? Nothing was ever said about turning me into a girl."

"If you'll think about for a few minutes," smiled Alan smugly, "there was nothing ever said about leaving you male either."

"I don't understand."

"You of all people should know how foolish it is to assume anything. Don't you remember what I told you earlier?" Thomas shook his head in reply. "I told you I was lonely and missed having my best friend around all the time. Although, to be perfectly honest, you're not quite the girl I had envisioned you becoming in my mind. But I'm sure we'll have plenty of things to talk about now that you've moved in here with me. And when those times come when we tire of talking, I'm sure we'll be able to think up a little something that will keep us both satisfactorily amused." Alan smiled at Thomas, leaving no doubts in his mind just what 'little somethings' Alan was already referring. "I'm planning on never being lonely ever again, Theresa dear. There are also a great many things that I'm not going to miss out on while I'm young this time. The two of us are going to have more fun together than you could have ever imagined possible."

Thomas' face visibly paled. "You can't possibly mean what I think you mean."

"Of course I can. Why wouldn't I?" replied Alan with the cunning smile of a thief. "I mean let's face facts, Theresa - 'Me Tarzan, you Jane,' if you know what I mean."

"You can't possibly mean that," snapped Thomas, his mind spinning with both anger and confusion. "I'll never do something like that with you, Alan Wheeler."

"Maybe not this instant, but sooner or later you will," replied Alan. "It's inevitable - a part of the program. "When you're finally ready for a little action I'm convinced you'll enjoy yourself. I'm already certain I will enjoy your company."

"I'll never be ready for that."

"I really wouldn't want to bet on that. Trust me, it'll happen." Alan looked Theresa over carefully. "It's too bad you're not more well-developed. As I've already told you, Theresa, it's completely unavoidable. As your body has been changed, so too will your likes and dislikes follow suit."

"Before that can happen, change me back to the way I was before."

"Are you actually trying to tell me you want to be an old man again?"

"I don't want to be a girl, Alan."

"Why not?" asked Alan. From where I'm sitting there's absolutely nothing wrong with you being a girl, Theresa."

"Damn it, Alan! Quit calling me Theresa. You know it's not my name." Thomas glared angrily at Alan, then crossed his slender arms below his small breasts. "From where you're sitting, you've been staring at my breasts, probably wishing they were bigger. If you really don't see anything wrong with turning me into a girl, then why don't we switch places? You can be the girl and I'll stare at your tits for a while."

"Will you just relax, The... er, Thomas," replied Alan sheepishly. "Nothing's been permanently cast into concrete... just yet."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"What the hell do you think it means?" Alan slowly shook his head. "I'd almost forgotten how totally dense you could be sometimes."

"Me? Dense? What the hell do you mean dense?" roared Thomas back, although truthfully his new voice wasn't nearly as intimidating in his current situation as his own one would have been. "You're not the one who underwent an abrupt and totally unexpected sex change."

"Why don't you just give it a rest for a few minutes? Look at your picture in the 'El Oroso' for a moment or two? I really can't believe that you'd give up being young again just because you didn't like the idea of being a girl."

"You just don't understand. Do you?" sighed Thomas. "I don't really like your ideas behind me being a girl." Without thinking he looked down at the picture of his young girl self. "She's certainly a very pretty girl."

"But still a little-underdeveloped. Wouldn't you say, Thomas?"

"You and that one-track mind of yours." Without really wanting to, Thomas smiled at his friend. "I wouldn't consider her as that underdeveloped... exactly." Subconsciously, he lifted a hand to his chest. His hand poked cautiously at his small new breasts.

"You're an A-cup at best." Thomas's face tinted scarlet at Alan's comment. Then unexpectedly Alan added, "Why don't you tell me what you remember about the day that picture was taken?"

"Sure. Why not? I remember that day as if it were yesterday," replied Thomas absently as he looked at the girl's picture once more. "It was still summer vacation between my junior and senior years. School hadn't started yet; we still had about a month to go before we'd have to return to our classes. However, the people at the school had made and sent out appointments at the local photographer's for all of us would be graduating seniors." Feeling suddenly confused and disoriented, Thomas stopped his reminiscences of the day and slowly shook his head. "Just what the hell have I been saying?" he asked Alan, sounding angrier than he'd been just a few moments earlier.

"You were just telling me about the day they took your senior picture," replied Alan. "But then suddenly you stopped."

"Oh, that's right." Alan's tone of voice mellowed dramatically. "You really must forgive me, Alan. I really don't know what could have possibly distracted me." A moment later, Thomas continued his story. "I don't know how they managed it, but my appointment was set for what turned out to be a beautiful summer day. I wanted to be outside in the sun, not in some old photographer's room. I was still somewhat of a tomboy back then, as I'm sure you must remember."

After a small pause, Thomas began smiling. "I didn't really want to get all cleaned up and sit around waiting to get my picture taken on such a beautiful summer day. However, my parents had bought me this new dress to wear that special day." Thomas sighed. "But I never really wanted to wear some stupid dress if I could avoid it. Can you even imagine me back then wearing a dress? However, I didn't want to be a disappointment to my parents either. As the time of my appointment approached, I put on the dress, brushed the tangles out of my hair, and then went to the studio and had my picture taken. It wasn't as bad as I'd expected." Thomas stared at Alan for a moment. "I remember you. You were one of those silly boys who whistled at me as I was walking to the photographer's studio. Weren't you?" he asked with a huge grin.

"Mom always said that picture was the best picture ever taken of me. I'm not sure I ever believed it." Thomas sighed again. "However, I still think it would have looked even better if only my boobs had been a little larger." Once again Thomas shook his head. "What the hell just happened to me?" he asked in a harsher tone.

"A little adjustment, I would suspect."

"What the hell do you mean by a little adjustment?" asked Thomas. His stance had altered subtly in the time he'd been discussing the day his picture was taken.

"Just that. It's nothing really sinister," replied Alan. "Your mind and your body are a little out of sync and need to be realigned. You don't really to worry about it, Thomas. It's all perfectly normal and natural."

"Perfectly normal and natural?" mused Thomas. "What can be perfectly natural or in any way normal about being changed into a young girl. There must be a way to reverse this, Alan. I don't want to be Theresa Higgs; I want to me."

"Is that all you're worried about?"

"Isn't that more than enough to be worried about? why shouldn't I be worried about being someone I'm not?" asked Thomas. "Don't you get it yet, Alan. "If I'm supposed to be Theresa Higgs, then I simply won't remain the real me. And if I won't be Thomas Higgs, then I might just as well be dead."

"Who told you that you won't be you? It's a lie - a complete and total fabrication," replied Alan. You'll always remember your entire life as Thomas Higgs - none of that will change simply because you've become a girl sixty years younger than you were before. Why would I want your memories stolen away from you when I wanted my best friend to share in my regained youth with me?"

"I don't know," pouted Thomas. "But I still don't know why I have to be a girl?" he sniffled.

"I don't make the rules; I don't really know who does," replied Alan. "But whoever it is who does clearly decided you were supposed to be a girl in this world, not me." Alan casually slid his arm around Thomas' soft shoulder. "You know, it could have just as easily been me they decided on turning into a girl."

"That doesn't really make me feel much better, Alan," pouted Thomas. "I'm still a girl. And you're not."

"You know, I've got a little something here that might make you feel a little better," smiled Alan, as he held out a photograph to Thomas that he'd just picked up from the desk. "Although to be perfectly honest, I'm not too sure it will make you feel as good now as it would have before your recent transformation."

Thomas reached out and took the picture. "You're right; this would have made me feel better before." Thomas stared at the picture. It was of an oddly familiar looking girl with an overabundance of curves in all the right places. She had dark blonde hair. And the tight-fitting cheerleader sweater she was wearing clearly revealed her very full and firm set of C-cup sized breasts. "Where did you get this picture?" he asked suddenly without having the vaguest idea why he'd asked the question. With an odd smile spreading across his face, Thomas set the photograph of the busty cheerleader down on the same page of the yearbook on which the senior picture of Theresa Higgs could now be found.

"It was just sitting here on my desk." Alan looked puzzled. "I don't where it came from originally, but you must have seen me pick it up."

"That's not what I meant, Alan. And I think you know it," said Thomas indignantly. "How is it that you have this picture of me at the cheerleader camp held prior to the start of our senior year." He glared at Alan. "There weren't supposed to be any cameras there?"

"That's you in the picture?" asked Alan with obvious surprise in his voice. "I would have never guessed that was you."

"Oh really. And why would that be?" asked Thomas as he casually flicked his dark hair out from in front of his face. "I know it's been a few years and it's not really a very flattering picture, but I really think I'd know me when I saw me." With total indifference, Thomas stretched out his arms. Once that was finished, he let loose with a rather long sigh. "Cameras were supposedly banned from that cheerleader camp," he began. "But I'll bet you already knew that, Alan," smiled Thomas. "Someone obviously smuggled one in to take pictures of us." But even as Thomas continued his languid complaint, his form began altering, slowly at first, but rapidly picking up speed. "Just who was it, Alan? Who violated our trust that day?"

"I have no idea who it could have been." Alan couldn't keep from staring at Thomas as his small A-cup sized breasts swiftly swelled into a more impressive C-cup size. Although his shirt was clearly strained by the effort, it still somehow managed to keep his newly enlarged impressive bust in check.

While Thomas had retained his current height, his waist had contracted slightly. His pants now clung to his hips and seemed to hug his waist tightly. His hair had also lightened from dark brown to dark blonde, while growing out roughly another four inches.

"Just what are you staring at, Alan?" asked Thomas in a more sultry tone of voice than he'd used before. He was clearly totally unaware his form had been altered again. With the most casual of motions, he flicked his now blonde hair away from in front of his now blue eyes. As Alan continued staring at him, Thomas' playful smile widened. "You're really going to have to learn to control that wondrous lust of yours, Alan," he smiled. Thomas felt quite pleased with himself that he had this effect on his friend, even though he wasn't exactly sure why he should find messing with Alan's head so pleasurable.

Alan looked down at the 'El Oroso' on his desk just in time to see the cheerleader's photograph Thomas had placed on it fade from sight. An odd glow that was swiftly vanishing was all that apparently remained of it.

However, the senior picture of Theresa Higgs had also undergone substantial changes. Instead of the dark hair and small breasts she'd previously had, she now had the longer dark blonde hair as well as the clearly more impressively developed bust of the cheerleader. Alan wondered if Thomas - or Theresa as he'd been listed in the yearbook - still remembered being a tomboy on the day that picture was taken.

Somehow he doubted that it could be true. And once Alan saw the name that captioned the girl's picture, he was thoroughly convinced she would neither recall nor ever admit to having been a tomboy. Alan had never yet met - and truly doubted he ever would meet - a busty tomboy with the highly unlikely name of Taffy.

And if that weren't enough to be totally convincing, Taffy Higgs very definitely looked like no other tomboy he'd ever encountered before.

"I was a real babe in high school," smirked Thomas as he gazed at his picture. "Don't you think that's true, Alan?" Thomas stretched his arms out languidly again, before slowly running his hands along the delectable curves of his female body. As he cupped one of his newly enlarged breasts, he began smiling. "Of course you think that's true, Alan. Why wouldn't you?" he smiled sexily. "Those guys you were with that day my senior picture was taken dared you to kiss me. Don't you remember, Alan?" Thomas grinned widely. "But before you could even try kissing me, you ran away like a scared little boy." Thomas turned to face Alan. "You were such a cute little boy. I really don't know why I was having so many problems with this being a girl shit, Alan." Thomas carefully scrutinized his best friend. "I'm sure you must know by now that being a young girl is a helluva lot better than being a really old man... or even dead."

"Is that really you, Thomas?"

"Of course it's me. Who else would I be, silly boy?" With an unmistakably mischievous gleam in his sexy blue eyes, Thomas batted his eyelashes at Alan. "Just what are you doing later tonight, big boy?"

"What are you saying, Thomas?"

"If you're too busy for me, I suppose I'll understand," replied Thomas coyly. "Its just that I'm new in this town; I really want to test out my new equipment. But if you can't find the time for me, then I guess you just can't." Thomas, feeling incredibly more frisky than he had in more years than he could remember, smiled sexily at his best friend. "By the way, Alan, please don't call me Thomas any more. I still know that Thomas is really my name and all that, but I simply just don't feel very much like a Thomas anymore." His smiled grew wider. "You can call me Taffy now. I really like the sound of that name. Don't you, Alan?"

She - it was getting increasingly more difficult for Alan to think of Taffy as a he - is much better than Theresa, thought Alan. He began wondering what it would be like discussing old times with Taffy. And those times when they tired of talking of the past were likely to be more interesting, as well as more frequent, then he'd originally anticipated.

He reached for the new 'El Oroso', knowing that once he closed the yearbook the spell affecting Taffy would finalize. But as he did, Alan noticed that a new photograph had appeared near the annual. Instead of closing the book, he picked up the photograph and looked it over carefully. It definitely wasn't a picture of Taffy Higgs. And yet... if this new photograph did for Taffy what Taffy's photograph had done for Theresa... What the hell, he mused silently. "What do you think of this picture, Taffy?" he asked, as he handed it to his unsuspecting friend.

As Taffy took the picture from Alan, he involuntarily shivered for a moment, perhaps even two, but certainly no more than that. "I didn't know there were any of these still in general circulation," replied Taffy with an decidedly naughty smile. "Where did you ever find this picture of me from my days as an adult film star, Alan? Please don't call it porn; I hate that 'P' word with a passion," giggled Taffy girlishly.

Taffy set the photo down on the still open yearbook in the same way he'd done with the earlier one. He never noticed that the other picture was nowhere to be seen. Alan doubted that Taffy remembered it had ever existed.

At the same time, Alan, not that Taffy seemed to mind, didn't - perhaps couldn't - answer the question. He couldn't concentrate, as he watched something he found far more interesting than answering questions.

Just as before, Taffy apparently didn't notice he was changing in any additional way. His already impressive breasts swelled easily to a D-cup in size and were clearly in the more lofty neighborhood of a pair of 44's, if not even larger. His already overstrained shirt quickly gave way under the increased pressure.

There seemed to be no further contraction of his waist. However, his hair had spurted out another ten to twelve inches, while lightening to a nearly white platinum blond.

Unlike before, his clothes - perhaps prodded in part by his now tattered shirt - had altered this time. His pants had become a tight black leather miniskirt. The remains of his shirt had reformed into a skimpy halter top that revealed a nearly unbelievable amount of cleavage. And he now wore shoes with two inch heels that made him seem that much taller than he really was.

Alan continued staring. Taffy had once more been altered into the woman in a mysterious photograph that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. Alan was now totally convinced that he'd long since lost any conscious control of whatever was going on.

"You're staring at me again, Alan," chided Taffy in a sensual voice that simply reeked of sex. "Or did you ever stop?" he added with a knowing wink. "I know exactly what we should do now," he smiled. "How about you, Alan? Do you wanna go somewhere quiet and fuck for a while?"

"What?" exclaimed Alan. He hadn't been expecting to hear something like that from her - just yet. However, given her earlier admission of being a por - that is, adult film - star, maybe he had on some subconscious level.

"I wanted to know if you wanted to go somewhere quiet and fuck," Taffy repeated calmly. "Although truthfully, it doesn't really need to be all that quiet," he smiled. "Just because I'm really an almost eighty-four-year-old man in this host busty babe body doesn't mean I can't use and enjoy a good fucking every now and again from my best friend." Taffy brushed his hair away from his eyes. "You just have no idea what this is like for me, Alan. I'm feeling so hot and horny right now I just might explode any moment," smiled Taffy wantonly. "And if you don't want to fuck me because you have problems with me having been born male, then I'll understand. I'll just go out and find myself a real man who will." Taffy ran his hand along the curves of his upper body. "That shouldn't be too hard for me to do looking as totally hot and awesome as I do."

Arnie looked at Taffy's yearbook picture. Not surprisingly, the photograph she had looked at had also vanished. And her yearbook photo had also been altered accordingly. The girl's senior picture was now simply a younger version of this new sensual form Taffy had taken right down to the same stunningly wicked impish expression.

"I was such a stunning mischievous total fox when I was younger," he smiled. "Wouldn't you fully agree with my assessment, Alan dear?" But without waiting for his friend to answer, Taffy suddenly pulled Alan closer and laid one squarely on his lips. When the two of them finally separated, Taffy was smiling. "Wanna do that again, sailor?" he asked playfully. That was certainly a lot of fun for me, although I never would have dreamed I'd ever enjoy kissing you, Alan. I hope it was as much fun for you."

"Are you all right, Taffy?"

"Of course I'm all right. Why wouldn't I be, Alan," smiled Taffy impishly. "I just couldn't help myself, you know. I've wanted to kiss you like that since that day my senior picture was taken. Don't you remember how your friends dared you to kiss me that day? I was more than willing to kiss you then, but you fainted dead away right on the spot. I always thought of you as cute and cuddly, but a little too shy for own good, after that."

"I thought you didn't want to be a girl."

"That was earlier, silly. A girl is entitled to change his mind," smiled Taffy. "I just love being a girl now, you know. I mean being a man was fine while I was one, but now I'm not one. If you haven't yet noticed I'm in a hot and sexy girl package." Taffy's smile widened. "You know, you just might say my being a man just got a little too old to be any fun for me any more." Taffy giggled at her small pun, but wasn't upset when Alan failed to crack a smile. "And don't call me Taffy any more either, Alan. I want to be called Twyla. I'm sure you must have seen some of my movies. You know, when they were showing in all the theaters, not on real late night cable TV. They always cut out the good parts in the cable TV versions. I have an awful lot of good parts, you know," he teasingly smiled, "but I'm sure you've never forgotten that."

When Alan looked, he wasn't surprised to see the photograph in the 'El Oroso' had altered once again - it was now clearly labeled Twyla Higgs. He would have been far more surprised if it had said something different.

"Have you got another pent up kiss waiting for your 'old' best friend, Alan?" smiled Twyla playfully, even as he accented the word 'old'. "Or are you simply prejudiced against minorities?"

"Minorities?"

"Of course," replied Twyla. "I'm a totally hot busty young babe, who used to be an octogenarian male. I don't think there can be very many of us running around - I might even be the only one - which definitely qualifies me for minority status. Don't you agree?"

"But Twyla..."

"Don't 'but Twyla' me, Alan Wheeler," he snapped. "Hot busty young babes like me have their needs, you know. It's all in the body, you know. Nothing is really different simply because I happened to be born male over eighty years ago." Twyla suddenly smiled at Alan. "You know something, Alan? I think I've just figured out your whole damn problem. You poor boy. You just haven't got a clue about what it's like being a hot sexy babe like me. And I could never adequately describe what it's like, you know. I think it's something you'd have to discover for yourself, first-hand. If I only had a wish, I'd wish you could know exactly how it feels being a hot sexy babe just like me."

Alan was definitely glad Twyla didn't have that wish. He didn't want to be a girl any more than Thomas had wanted to be one earlier. He was quite satisfied with things just the way they currently were. He didn't think any more improvements in his situation were possible.

However, when Alan looked over in the general location of the annuals again, he was once more surprised to find still another photograph had materialized next to it.
How long would this go on?

What could possibly be done to make Twyla even better than she already was?
Despite what he considered marked improvements as Theresa became Taffy and Taffy in turn became Twyla, Alan still doubted there was anything that could possibly improve her. But the lure of the new photograph was strong. Just in the unlikely case he might have overlooked some potential improvement, he went over and picked up the new photograph so he could take a good look at it.

But as soon as he saw it, Alan realized he'd been right. Even though the girl in the new photograph was even more beautiful and incredibly more buxom than Twyla, she still possessed a couple of major flaws that Alan wasn't prepared to overlook.
Firstly, the girl in the picture was dressed in a white bridal gown with a long flowing train. Alan definitely wasn't ready to be married just yet. He hadn't even had enough time to start playing the field, which was something he had undeniably planned not to miss.

And secondly, the girl was at least six months pregnant. And Alan was clearly even less ready to be called 'Daddy' than he was to get married. As far as Alan was concerned, becoming a father was simply something he could put off for several years.

There was only one possible thing Alan could do. He crumbled the new photograph in his hand, then tossed it into the wastebasket. He reached over and closed the 'El Oroso' in which Twyla's senior picture appeared. Alan breathed a sigh of relief, knowing the spell on Twyla was now irrevocably finalized.

Twyla shivered momentarily. "Oh my," he moaned softly. "What just happened?" he whispered throatily. "Whatever it was, I really hope it happens to me again real soon."

Alan smiled contentedly. Twyla wasn't entirely perfect, but then what girl he'd ever known really had been? However, with all of Thomas' memories of their youth in her head she'd be exceptionally good company whenever he needed her to be. And with Twyla's sensual young body and heightened sexual drives she'd also be an exceptionally entertaining fuck whenever he needed that aspect of her.

However, at that very moment, Barton unexpectedly entered the room unbidden. "Are you ready to conclude our business transaction, Mr. Wheeler?" he asked much to Alan's consternation.
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TO BE CONTINUED...