Choice By Ellie Dauber © 2003

Another one of my older stories, served up for your consumption and your comments (if you please).

* * * * *

Joe Neville grew up as “the Mayor’s kid.” Thanks to an African artifact, he gets a chance to be something else.

Choice By Ellie Dauber © 2003

Pineboro is a nice enough little town.

It's the county seat for Jackson County. The main industry is the Traxton Electronics Manufacturing Plant at the outskirts of town. The high school, John Marshall, was district football champion for the past two seasons. “Go Tigers!” Andrew Carnegie gave the money for our library about100 years ago. He gave money to build the museum, too. The mayor is Joseph Arlington Neville.

My father.

I'm Joseph Arling -- Joe, Junior; just call me Joe, Junior. Better yet forget Junior; call me Joe.

I wish I could forget about the Junior, sometimes. My whole life I was "the Mayor's kid." He first vgot elected the when I was two. Next year, he'll be completing his fourth term, and he's already running for his fifth. He's used Mom and me in every campaign.

We don't mind, not too much anyway. We love Dad, and he's done a lot for the town. I can tell everything he's done because I've memorized all his campaign speeches. I couldn't help it. I just heard them too many times.

The problem is, the whole town knows me. 1!"Hey, it's the Mayor's kid."2! or, worse, 1!"Hey, it's Little Joe."2! They hung that last one on me when I was about six. I was tired of it by the time I was seven.

I always got special treatment, too. If there was a class assembly, I was the one who always got picked for the big part. I like to think I made the football team by my own merits. I'm not the best player, but I seem to get used more than most of the other second stringers do. When they wanted a picture of some random person, I always seemed to be the one that got picked.

People always seemed to expect more of me. I was had to get good grades and be good at sports -- that stuff about football again -- and be popular. And, of course, the Mayor's kid would never get into any sort of trouble. When the other kids see cops on patrol pull over to say "Hi" to you, you don't get offered too many opportunities to get into trouble.

Oh, there were some good things about it. I could always find a girl - - a pretty girl -- to go with me to a party or a dance or some political function. Nothing like knowing that he could get her picture in the paper to make a girl interested in a guy.

A few were 1!very2! eager to show why they should be the one I took to one of those parties. Let's just say that I lost my virginity about a year and a half before any of my friends, even Theo Saunders, and he's our quarterback, captain of the “Tigers”, too, and junior class president. I didn't want to run for the job. Dad was pretty disappointed, but he didn't say anything.

Like I said, my life in a fishbowl, it had some good points and some bad ones. I just happened to want a change that Saturday in the museum.

We were studying "The Age of Colonialism" in World History class. I was doing a paper on the early exploration of Africa, and I had an idea to see if there was anything useful in the museum. I drove over and went looking for Mr. Sheppard.

Mr. Sheppard is the science curator of the museum. I met him at some event they were holding at the museum that Dad dragged me to when I was about ten. Mr. Sheppard saw how bored I was and started to tell me stories about some of the exhibits. I loved it; he's a good teacher. We've been sort of friends ever since.

"Mr. Sheppard's not here," Katie told me. Katie's a museum volunteer who acts as one of his assistants. She was working on a publicity release for the new planetarium show. "He flew east on some family business. He'll be back in a week.”

My paper was due on Friday. I had a lot of the research done, but I was hoping to add a little extra "spice" to it. Katie saw how disappointed I was. "Normally, we don't let unauthorized people back into the catalog and storage area," she said. Then she added the magic words. "But seeing as you're the mayor's son..."

Okay, so I do take advantage of the perks now and then. I wasn't going to mess up any of the museum's collection. Each piece has its own complete documentation. Mr. Sheppard had shown me some of the files and explained how the catalog system worked. I figured I'd look through the files, find a couple of interesting pieces, and take down the information. Most files had pictures of the item, and the museum had a world class copier. I could make a copy of the ones I wanted and included those in my paper.

I headed back to the storeroom where the catalogue file cabinets are kept. There are a couple of old ones in there that go back to when they first built the place. I checked one of those first. Normally, there's an index file in the front of the top drawer of every cabinet. When I pulled open the top drawer of the first one, I heard a "thunk." Something heavy fell down from behind the drawer into the one below.

I was curious and pulled open the second drawer. A very old envelop was stuck between two files way in the back. I pulled it free and looked at it. It had been sent from some museum I never heard of in New York, and the postmark date was October 22, 1929. "October 1929," I said to myself. "I bet they were too worried about the stock market crash to worry about why they never got this package back.

I used a letter opener to cut through the tape around the envelope and gently dumped the contents onto a table, a gray file folder and a small package tied with yellowing string. I opened the folder and read the single sheet of paper that was inside it.

"Egg of Shala-Nkuba. Found in the region of Lake Victoria by Alfred Leichester, April 17, 1911. Tribe/culture of origin unknown; appears similar to artifacts of M'barduu lineage. Item was a gift to Leichester from native shaman, a reward for saving the shaman's wife from some sort of wild beast. According to Leichester, the egg is a magic talisman capable of granting wishes after being activated by some sort of blood sacrifice."

The rest of the page was a description. The egg was made of polished African black oak, about four inches long and oval, shaped like an egg -- duh! It was covered with filigree made of burnished copper wire and formed into various symbols.

I got curious and used a letter opener to cut the string and unwrapped the package. Sure enough, the thing inside matched the description. I turned the thing over in my hands, looking at the pattern.

A piece of the wire had come loose. When I shifted the egg, the wire made a nice cut across my index finger. I said a few choice words even though it wasn't much worse than a bad paper cut.

The thing was, I bled a little. The blood dripped down onto the egg and soaked in instantly without a trice, like the egg was some kind of a sponge instead of a hard piece of wood.

I remembered what the note had said. "Okay, Egg, you just got your blood sacrifice. I want my wish." It was silly, but I kept going. "I wish... I wish..." There were a thousand things I could have said; I could have wished for women, money, a really nice car, a thousand things. What I did say was, "I wish I was somebody else for a couple days, somebody entirely different, so I could just have fun for a while and not have to worry about being the Mayor's kid."

I laughed at how dumb that sounded, even as I regretted that it couldn't happen. Then it did happen.

The Egg began to hum. I was so surprised that I almost dropped it, but before I could set it down, it began to glow a funny greenish color. Then the humming rose to a high pitch. The glow shot off the Egg and ran up my arm and all over my body. An instant later, the hum and the glow both just disappeared.

And I changed.

It happened too quickly to really see. One moment, I was a Joe Neville, a tall, athletic looking 17-year old guy with short, medium brown hair wearing a pair of jeans and a silver and green John Marshall sweatshirt. The next minute, I... I was... somebody else.

My new self was a girl, a girl with one hell of a nice rack. She was wearing a tight, green blouse that was cut low to show off her boobs and cut short to show her trim tummy and narrow waist. She had long, dark blonde hair -- there was no mirror, so I didn't know what I looked like, except I knew somehow that I was pretty. Besides the rack and the narrow waist, I had wide hips and a sweet teardrop ass. My jeans were now a short, denim skirt that showed off a dynamite pair of legs. I was still the same height, but that was because I was now wearing a pair of what I guessed to be three-inch high heels.

"Wow," I said with a giggle. "I'm a babe." I put down the Egg, wishing I had a mirror so I could see my face and... and check my make-up. My blouse felt a little stretched, so I reached up and, without thinking, adjusted my boobies in my bra. "That's better," I said feeling happy - - and a little lightheaded.

Part of me wanted to change back. All it would take was a little blood and another wish. But part of me was curious. I had wished to have some fun. "How can I do that if I change back to Joe? No way I can, so goodbye for now, Joe Neville, and hello..." I suddenly knew my name. "... Joy Newell."

The name felt right. "No way I'm gonna havefun in this dump," I said. I was about to leave, when I remembered the Egg. "Better take it with me."

I picked up the Egg and stuck it in... I looked around. I'd brought my backpack with me. Now it was gone, and in its place was a small, black purse with a long shoulder strap. I put the Egg in the purse, the file, too. I left the envelope and the wrapping in a trash can.

Katie was away from her desk. I hurried past and all but ran out of the museum. When I got to the parking lot, my car, an old, black Chevy, was gone. There was a light blue Miata in its place. "A chick's car," I said with an amused giggle. "I should have known."

The car was unlocked. When I got in, I looked at myself in the rearview mirror. I had a round face with a pert, little nose and big, brown eyes -- mine... Joe's were green -- and full, bee-sting lips. I was wearing lipstick and blush and some sort of eye shadow that made my eyes look even bigger. Make that major league babe.

While I was at it, I checked my driver's license. Yes, I was Joy Newell, all right. I was 22, an adult -- Whee! I had an apartment over on Woodbine Street, and, according to a company ID I found in my purse, I worked in the shipping department over at Traxton. I sure got my wish about being somebody else.

The car key was in my purse, too. I started the car and headed off to... to where? I decided to just drive around for a while and think things out. I was circling Main Street for the third or fourth time, when I heard music from one of the buildings. It was a bar, "The Starfire Lounge", the sign said.

It looked like fun. I pulled over and parked in a vacant spot a few doors away. It didn't look like much of a place, but they had a great band. My hips started to sway to the music as I walked towards it.

The band turned out to be one of those CD juke boxes with a really good sound hook-up. I sauntered over to the bar and ordered a white wine. A pussy drink sure, but I was a pussy now, so why not? The bartender brought me the drink. I suppose he could have asked for ID, but he just took the chance that I was legal. Bartenders like to have pretty girls sitting at their bar. It makes the male drinkers want to hang around.

A couple guys came over and tried their pick-up lines. They were so corny, but I guess most pick-up lines are. I chased the first one off with a snide comeback. The second guy was cute enough, so I let him pay for my drink. We talked for a few minutes. He thought he was G-d's gift to women everywhere, and from my reaction, he got the idea pretty quick that I wasn't accepting the gift. "Sorry," I said as he stood up. Then I ordered another glass of wine to take the taste of him out of my mouth.

"I'll take care of that, Tommy," somebody said to the bartender as he set down my drink. I turned, it was a tall, really cute guy with curly red hair. "That is, if the lady will let me join her."

"Love to." I smiled and took a sip, looking at him over the top of the glass, my eyes half closed. He smiled back and sat down next to me. Mmm, he had a nice smile, a definite keeper.

His name was Dave... Something. We had a couple more drinks and talked for a while about nothing in particular. Then somebody put something really rocking on the juke. It got to me, and I was shaking my body to the music.

I jumped up. "Dance with me." When Dave didn't get up, I pulled at his sleeve and pouted at him. "Daaance with me. I wanna dance; I wanna dance."

He took a last shot of his scotch and, with a sigh, stood up and let me drag him out onto the floor. I let go of his arm and took a step back. The music just went through me. I lifted my arms over my head and began to sway to the slow, sensuous rhythm.

Then the beat picked up. I squealed and started to move faster. I shook my boobies and jerked my hips to the ever-faster beat. It was great, the way the music matched my mood, the way everybody stopped back to watch me. Guys were clapping and whistling.

Dave stopped dancing and just stood there, arms crossed, watching me. "C'mon, c'mon, you gotta dance, too," I whined. "I can't do it alone."

"What's the point?" he said, yelling to be heard over the music and the crowd. "Nobody's watching me."

"You want points," I yelled back. He nodded. "How about these?" I grabbed the bottom of my blouse and pulled it up and over my head.

His eyes went real wide when he saw my 38-D boobies nestled there in my green push-up bra. It was so sheer, and I was having so much fun, that you could all but see my pointy, little nipples and the areolas around them through the material. "You win," he yelled and he started dancing with me again.

I was so happy that I threw my arms around him and pulled myself in close. I could feel my boobies crushed up against his big, strong chest. His face was awful close to mine. I felt so happy, so warm and tingly all over. I stopped dancing, and, before he could say anything, I kissed him.

I pushed my tongue into his open mouth and slid it along his teeth and up against his own tongue. He pulled me even closer, and I felt something pushing against my crotch. I broke the kiss and whispered, "Later." Then I started dancing again.

The crowd cheered, and a few guys were shouting what a lucky bastard he was.

***

Next thing I know, it's 2 AM, and the bar's closing. By that time, I was dancing alone up on the bar, so everybody could see me. The great thing was that Dave said he didn't mind. When I climbed down from the bar, he said he'd been proud to be seen with somebody as sexy as I was. I sucked his earlobe and whispered that he hadn't seen the half of it, yet.

I followed him to his place in my car, so I wouldn't have to go back to the bar for it. He lived in an apartment building a few miles away. We parked in the underground garage and kissed and fondled each other in the elevator. I just barely got my hand out of his pants when the door opened on the way up, and this little old lady got on. She rode along for three floors, while we both tried not to giggle.

We started playing with each other again as soon as she left. "Why don't we just stop this thing and do it right here?" I asked him.

"Because I'm not paying $750 a month to give the security guard a thrill." He pointed to a small camera up near the ceiling.

"I'll give him one for free," I said. I'd put my blouse back on before we left the bar. I yanked it off and tossed it to Dave.

"What the hell..." he said.

I didn't answer. I just reached behind my back and undid my bra. I tossed that to Dave, too. Then I looked right up at that camera and started rubbing my boobies. Damn, it felt good! And the look on Dave's face, half embarrassment half lust, was priceless!

Just then, the elevator stopped. "Finally," he said. He grabbed my arm and pulled me out into his floor. "You are the craziest, sexiest..." He didn't get any further because I kissed him again. He picked me up and carried me to his apartment.

He had to put me down to get his key, but then he picked me up again. He walked straight through the apartment into the bedroom.

***

I'm not going to say what happened after that. A lady doesn't tell. I don't tell, either. Let's just say that, when we finally did get to sleep, we needed the rest.

I woke up the next morning to the smell of coffee. Dave was coming into the bedroom carrying a tray with coffee, juice, and a big plate of scrambled eggs. All he was wearing were a pair of boxers. When he bent over to set the tray on a small table near the bed, I enjoyed the view of his tight, little butt.

"G'morning," I said, sitting up and stretching. I wasn't wearing anything but a happy smile. I noticed that Dave's boxers were getting tighter in front.

"Good morning, yourself," he answered. "I thought you might be a little hungry after... umm... after last night. Everything's nice and hot."

I licked my lips. "Mmm, so am I." I reached out and grabbed at his boxers. He didn't put up much of a fight, and... well, the coffee was a lot cooler when we finally got to it.

After breakfast, we took a shower together. No sex, but we had a lot of fun washing all those interesting parts of each other's bodies. There was lot of kissing and cuddling, which -- I discovered to my delight -- is almost as good as sex. We said our goodbyes a while later down in the garage with a long, hot kiss that almost made me want to drag him back up to his bedroom -- or into the backseat of one of our cars. When he asked me for my phone number, I was surprised to discover that I had one, 238-6426, "A-FUN-GAL."

Heading back to Joy's -- to my apartment, I turned on the car radio just in time to hear an ad for a pre-holiday sale at Victoria's Secret. No way I was going to miss that. I turned a corner on two wheels and headed for the mall.

I got lucky. There was a car pulling out of a spot right by the entrance just as I got there. I hit the gas and barely managed to beat another car into it, even though it was closer. The other driver looked mad until I rolled down my window and blew him a kiss. "Thanks, sweetie," I called.

Then I saw a woman sitting next to him and added, "I'll pay you back for real later." Boy, did that get to her. She looked ready to kill -- me or him, it didn't matter. I giggled as I turned off the engine and got out of the car. I blew him another kiss and started walking towards the entrance, putting a little extra "oomph!" into my walk because I knew they were still watching.

A kid, maybe 15, was coming out the door as I got there. He held it for me, something that never happened to Joe. Of course, he was staring at my boobies the whole time. "Thanks, honey," I said with a big smile. Then I slid my hand along the side of his cheek. His jaw dropped a foot, and I bet his pants got real tight. He just stood there watching me, so I kept that sexy walk on into the mall.

Victoria's Secret wasn't too far ahead. I'd walked past it a hundred times, trying not to get caught looking at the sexy undies. Now I was going in. The place was amazing. There were all kinds of displays of pretty things, panties and camis and bras, oh, my! I didn't know where to start. I did know, all of a sudden, that my measurements were 38D- (Wow!) -24-36.

I tried on a lot of things. It was great, putting all those soft, silky things on my body. It was fun, too, especially posing in the dressing room mirror or imagining taking them off for some hunk. I was a walking wet dream. Joe would have been all over a girl like me, and the thought of what he or Dave or some other guy would do to me made my body tingle all over. My nipples stiffened and my... down there, I felt warm and -- truth be told -- a little wet.

In the end, I bought myself a lime green teddy. The panty was cut high to make my legs look longer, with the front was so narrow, it barely covered my crotch. I didn't half to worry, though, because my nether curls were trimmed to a thin strip. I got a gold-colored panty, bra, and garter belt set trimmed with a darker gold colored lace. "Just wait till Dave sees my gold-plated pussy," I said with another giggle.

I just did a little window shopping after that. I saw some darling blouses at Topsides and a really cute mini-skirt at the Jean King, but I guess I was kind of shopped out. I had a late lunch, salad and a diet Coke, at the food court and drove home.

When I got home, I put my new undies away and sat down to watch some TV. There was a football game on, the Eagles and San Francisco, just the sort of match that Joe liked.

I didn't.

I surfed channels till I found SLEEPLESS IN SEATTLE on cable. I sat there imagining I was Meg Ryan falling in love with Tom Hanks in spite of myself. Mmm, it sounded nice.

After the movie was over, I turned off the set and thought about my lives.

Joy was a party girl. She lived life to the fullest and had a lot of fun doing so. Her job at Traxton wasn't too exciting, but she had friends there, and it paid enough to get her a nice apartment and keep her in pretty clothes. She figured she'd find a man she wanted to marry eventually, but that was about her only ambition. In the meantime, she was enjoying the hunt.

Joe, I hated to admit it, was kind of a drudge. He was a sometimes starter for the Tigers, though. He had friends, too, and a not too shabby sex life for a 17-year old. He had to be "Mr. Straight and Narrow" now, but he was going away to college -- he wanted to study history, maybe go into teaching. He could cut loose some at whatever school he wound up attending. It wasn't a bad life, either, truth to tell.

I opened my purse and took out the egg, being much more careful how I handled it. "I can use this thing to become Joy forever," I said. "Or, I can change back to Joe, put it back in the museum, and just chalk this whole thing up to a really weird experience." "So which do I choose?"

Yes, dear readers, which end should Joe/Joy choose? The Tiger or the Lady?