Willie and Dick wonder, what do you do when an important part of your anatomy doesn't answer roll call in the morning?
by jijillian
Willie and Dick wonder, what do you do when an important part of your anatomy doesn't answer roll call in the morning?
by jijillian
1. Philomena
Dick Williams and Willie Richards approached the door as if it were a hibernating bear the two boys had determined to tickle into wakefulness. It didn't even seem like a good idea at the time. Dick held back, despite Willie's urgings to keep up. They'd done this reluctant hero act all the way over, taking turns being scared and brave.
"C'mon," said Willie. "I'm not doing this alone." He pushed his wavy brown-blond hair out of his blue-gray eyes with one hand while reaching for Dick with the other.
Dick dodged. "What if we're wrong? What if she's not the one who -- who did this?"
"Yeah? But what if we're right?"
"That's even scarier!" Dick licked his lips, his mouth as dry as diet crackers. His own straight black hair fell into his hazel eyes but he didn't seem to notice. He dodged Willie's grasp several times then relented and let the other boy grab his wrist. Only, they ended up holding hands. They let go at the same time, trading horrified glances.
It wasn't as if they didn't know each other, of course. They'd lived on the same block and gone to the same schools in Lakewood almost forever. Maybe they knew each other too well.
Dick had recently turned fifteen and Willie had a birthday coming up, right after Halloween. Willie had a sort of unfinished appearance and his clothes looked comfortably lived in, denim jeans, sneakers and a sweatshirt over a tee. Dick looked much neater in almost preppy, gray slacks, business-style wingtips, a black windbreaker and a pale blue shirt with a button down collar. They looked different but both liked computer games, science fiction, comic books and anime, and both had trouble getting dates and keeping girlfriends.
Which may or may not have had something to do with their predicament.
The door to the private entrance of the old Victorian apartment conversion opened suddenly, before either boy had summoned the nerve to touch the brass knocker. Philomena Duvalle stood there in all her fifteen-year-old pulchritude.
She wore turquoise hip-hugger capris, a raspberry bandeau top, orange-and-vanilla high heel sandals and matching neck scarf. Her slightly-tipped green eyes, chin-length, ginger-red curls and galaxy of freckles should have clashed with such a color combo but somehow, she just looked more vivid.
In her heels, she stood taller than either boy, who were in any case, a step lower than she on the stoop. They had to look up at her. She had hot rod curves where most girls her age still needed training wheels. And she had attitude.
"What are you two doing here?" she asked with an upward snap of her head that sent her bright curls bouncing.
"We're sorry," babbled Willie.
"Whatever we did," agreed Dick.
"We didn't mean to..."
"And we won't do it again..."
"Whatever it was!"
Phil, as her friends called her, frowned down at them.
"We must have done something..."
"...to someone..."
"...and you told everyone you were a witch!"
"So we thought..."
"Stop!" Phil interrupted, raising both hands. "Come inside," she ordered. Turning, she disappeared into the interior of the ground floor apartment, leaving the door open for them to follow.
* * *
[next: "They're Gone!"]
When important objects go missing, witch place do you start looking for them?
by jijillian
2. "They're Gone"
The room inside seemed like a slice of another world, far from the suburban realm of Southern California. The wood flooring --oak, but the boys didn't know that-- glowed with the light that comes from a century of proper care; waxing, stripping and waxing again until the buttery depths of the wood reveal themselves. The windows had attached windowboxes, one of them padded like a loveseat, the other two supporting planters filled with flowers.
The furniture looked old, expensive and perhaps lovingly restored to some remembered opulent yesterday. A heavy mahogany bureau topped with an ancient, yellowish mirror sat against the longest length of interior wall. A collection of painted bisque figurines, each showing two women dancing or holding hands or -- kissing, covered the top of the bureau. A half life-size marble statue of two naked women embracing sat on a pedestal in the space between the two front windows.
On the left, an archway opened into a formal dining room with a long, again mahogany, table and eight chairs. The windows had similar treatments to the sitting room but in place of the massive bureau sat a combination buffet-butler's table-bar that might have come directly out of the parlor of the first class suite in some Edwardian ocean liner. Between the front windows stood a sculpture of Ganymede, shyly holding out a cup to an invisible Jove.
Phil directed her visitors through this richness and perched on the window seat near a grandiose cast-iron lion. "So what happened?" she asked after the boys had sat on the antique sofa she indicated.
"They're gone," said Dick in an empty-sounding voice.
"Missing," agreed Willie. "Mine were gone when I got up this morning."
"Hmm," said Phil, not bothering to hide a smile. "Both of you?"
Dick nodded that the same had happened to him.
"I didn't tell him!" Willie protested.
"He guessed, so I guessed that he knew because he knew...you know?" Dick explained.
"You both look like you've lost your best friend--your two best friends," said Phil. This time she didn't just smile, she snickered.
They cringed.
"Please, can we have them back?" asked Willie.
"We don't care how or why you did it, but just please give them back!" said Dick.
"We promise not to tell anyone. Ever!"
"And we won't do whatever we did again..."
"But you'll have to tell us what it was..."
"'Cause we don't know..."
"Honest!"
Phil's smile widened and her eyes narrowed. She stepped forward, stomping with her high heel sandal while she raised her hands in claw-like movements and hissed through her teeth like a matinee vampire.
The boys squealed and clutched each other, pushing back into the cushions so hard they almost over-turned the sofa.
Phil relaxed, laughing. She laughed loud and for a long time. Finally, still chuckling, she managed to say, "It's true. You boys have no balls at all, now."
Dick looked at Willie and Willie looked at Dick and both began to cry.
* * *
[next: Out of Their League]
Ever do something stupid? I mean, really stupid. No, stupider than that.
by jijillian
3. Out of Their League
"Do you remember asking me for a date? Both of you on the same day?" Phil asked.
Dick blinked solemnly and nodded. Willie blushed and bit his lip, but he nodded, too.
"Now seriously, look at me, look at you two. Aren't I obviously way out of your league?"
They nodded again, cringing. Phil pushed her lips tightly together to keep from smiling. If they shrank back from her any more it would look as if the sofa had begun eating them, butt first.
"It was a dare," volunteered Willie. "The guys in gym said we didn't have balls enough to ask the prettiest sophmore girl for a date."
"Pretty?" Phil snapped. "You think I'm pretty?" She faked a haughty annoyance. "I've never been so insulted in my life!"
The couch seemed about ready to swallow both boys. They babbled a bit, confusing each other and making verbal hash of apologies and explanations.
"Sure," admitted Phil. "I wished you two would never have balls enough to ask me again but I didn't expect it to come true. How many wishes ever come true, even for a witch?"
The look the boys gave her would have shamed an orphan puppy left out in the rain after it's owner died trying to save his mother from a runaway monster truck. She had to smile again but she turned away so they couldn't see. If they went on another half hour crying jag, she knew she'd end up just throwing them out and their problem intrigued --even titillated-- her.
"Are you really a witch?" Dick asked, after swallowing hard several times.
"Oh, yes," said Phil. "And not one of these neo-pagan religious-type witches, either. My aunts were witches back before Salem, before Merlin, maybe. We've got family traditions that go back to Babylon." She grinned, enjoying herself. She realized that the boys would believe anything she told them -- they didn't have the balls not to. "Aunt Julianna is gone to New Orleans to get some fresh filé and some moldy dirt from a certain grave. Aunt Boadicea flew to Vegas with her boyfriend who's in a show there. They won't either of them be back till Monday."
Dick and Willie exchanged glances. Alone with a beautiful girl with all the adults out of town? Scary. Since the girl claimed to be the witch who had caused them to lose their balls, even more scary.
Willie asked the important question, "Can you help us?"
"I think so," said Philomena, trying to look thoughtful instead of just smirking. "The first thing to do is to get naked. Everyone has to be naked for witchcraft to work." And this way, she thought, I can actually get to see that they have no balls.
The boys stared at her, their mouths open.
"Let's see," Phil mused. "I made that wish in my bedroom, so that's where we need to try to work the counterspell. C'mon."
* * *
[next: Pascal Bites]
by jijillian
4. Pascal Bites
Philomena led the way and the boys followed like filings drawn to a magnet, down a short narrow hall, up an even narrower flight of stairs to Phil's bedroom under the gables of the second floor. A one bedroom apartment rented to a bookkeeper named G. Carmichael occupied the rest of the second floor and up top, a third floor studio held a procession of impoverished college students, currently one Nobel Pak, Korean student visa geek-extraordinaire. A third rental apartment, empty, or rather, full of overflow storage from the main house, sat atop the more modern two-car garage on the back of the property.
Phil's room exemplified that quirkiness common to old Victorian houses, especially conversions. It had two gabled windows, a more or less square wooden floor, oak again, covered by a green, black and cream Turkish carpet and pastel walls and ceiling, each one a different color.
A narrow door in one wall opened into what had once been the nursery, now partitioned into Phil's walk-through closet and two tiny bathrooms, one for the second floor apartment reached by a separate door. Getting to her bathroom involved walking through Phil's closet which was why it wasn't a walk-in closet. The bathroom had another oddity, a gabled window overlooking the back yard, the lower panes nearly opaque ruby glass to prevent peeping. The closet even had a window but with black glass to prevent damage to clothes.
With a window or door occupying the center of each wall in her room, Phil's four poster bed had to sit in the middle of the room, piled with plush animals and presided over by a three-foot tall porcelain-headed doll with Phil's own coloring. The bed sat high, the space underneath held boxes and wooden storage trays on rollers. A large, pigeon-hole-style desk occupied the only interior corner, between the two doors, and a platinum gray computer tower sat on the floor next to the desk. A big, black cat with eyes the color of old gold sat on top on the computer, its ruby tongue sticking out a bit and looking like lipstick.
"That's Pascal," said Phil. "He bites." She turned the desk chair around and plopped into it, reaching out a casual hand to scritch the top of the kitty's head, deftly avoiding his attempt to seize her hand between his paws and insert it into his mouth. "We have another cat, a white one named Ada but she hides pretty good." Without pausing she added, "Take off your clothes."
The boys stared at her again, not moving; wide-open blue-gray and hazel eyes like glass buttons on two new life-size boy dolls fastened their gazes on her face. Willie's mouth hung slightly open, his teeth barely visible. Dick showed the tip of his tongue between his lips, oddly echoing the cat.
Phil wondered if they might pass out since they didn't seem to be breathing. They do a lot of staring, she thought. Maybe I'll teach them the difference between pretty and beautiful.
"All right," she said, standing up. "I'll go first." She raised her hands to untie her scarf and heard the boys each take a deep breath.
by jijillian
5. Eck-sellent!
Philomena kicked off her sandals, flinging them under the desk then draped her untied scarf over the thin-screen computer monitor. "Shoes," she ordered them.
Willie toed off his Keds and socks, showing a disturbing amount of pedal dexterity as he put the socks back in the shoes and placed the shoes by the bed without bending over. Dick put a hand on a bedpost and lifted his feet to untie and pull off his oxfords then pulled down his socks, rolled them together and placed the neat roll carefully in the right hand shoe.
Phil smiled as she watched.
"Pants," she said. Putting her thumbs into her tight waistband, she stripped off her capris quickly and threw them at the bed, causing the boys to dodge. "Pants," she repeated; they'd been watching instead of doing.
Looking slightly bemused, they took off their pants, undoing belts, zippers and snaps rather than simply pulling them down.
"Just throw them on the bed," said Phil, but Dick placed his carefully folded slacks near the head of the bed, not touching the haphazard pile made of Phil's and Willie's garments nearer the foot.
"Jackets, sweaters, tops," said Phil. She motioned at them.
The boys quickly removed windbreaker and sweatshirt then watched as Phil pulled the flimsy bandeau off and threw it like a frisbee at the window seat. It spun, keeping its shape and looking for a moment as if an invisible girl were twirling across the room. Phil laughed, standing there in just her floral panties and strapless peach bra. She watched the boys from under her long, red-blonde eyelashes the barest tips of which she had mascaraed Very Black so that her eyes seemed surrounded by disembodied exclamation points.
The boys glanced at each other nervously and began removing their shirts. At first, Dick forgot about the buttons and tried to pull his ivy league shirt off over his head. Willie had to help him get untangled after pulling off his own t-shirt.
Phil watched with interest. Dick's skin tone suggested Mediterranean ancestry somewhere, while Willie looked white as the milk from a dairy in Iceland, especially on the parts of him that apparently never saw the sun. The two friends had hardly an ounce of extra weight between them, though Willie had a bit of baby fat left in his face. Skinny as two sticks, she thought. Excellent, she added in a mental impression of Montgomery Burns from The Simpsons.
When the boys turned back toward her, she deftly unhooked her bra and slipped it off, dropping it behind her across the back of the desk chair. Knowing that her own slenderness accentuated her bust, making her appear larger than she actually was, she turned back to see the effect on the Dick and Willie.
They stared.
She put a hand under each creamy half-globe, teasing her nipples with a fingertip. "You boys wish you could get your hands on a pair like these, don't you?"
They nodded.
Excellent, she said to herself, again mentally using the tones of the evil tycoon. "Underwear," said Philomena, waving her hand at Willie and Dick. "Off."
Already stripped down to undershorts, their skinny pale bodies looking decidedly out of place in her bedroom, they seemed reluctant to remove their last defense, their last concealment of the horrible thing that had happened to them.
"Come on," said Phil. "I want to see if you really have no balls at all."
The boys traded a sideways glance then Willie spoke, "Are you going to take off your panties?"
"Ma-a-aybe," Phil drawled. "But we already know that I don't have any balls, I'm a girl." She wiggled, demonstrating. "This is about you guys, not about me. C'mon, off with them -- or get out and I promise to never try to help you get your balls back."
Dick's eyes bulged a bit at that. He sighed and put a finger inside the stretchy band of his boxers. "Okay," he said, "but this is really embarrassing."
You think this is embarrassing, thought Phil. Just wait. She grinned.
"You too," she said to Willie.
"You first," Willie suggested, looking nervous.
"Now!" snapped Phil. "Take them off!"
Hands shaking, Willie complied, removing his jockey briefs so quickly he finished before Dick had gotten his off. Of course, Dick stopped to fold his boxers and decide where to put them on the bed. Willie simply stretched the band of his briefs between his fingers and let go, once they were off. Perhaps he didn't actually mean to do that because the underwear still had a lot of snap in it and flew across the bed to land in the middle of Dick's neat pile.
"Do you mind?" asked Dick, holding up the offending and offensive, briefs. Willie snatched them back, stuck his tongue out at the back of Dick's head and tossed the shorts on the bed again.
Mentally, Phil was in stitches but she kept her face still and only made a few choking noises that the boys didn't notice. Her eyes danced with amusement as she looked them over. She certainly didn't see any hanging down ovoids below the boys rather shrunken-looking male members -- unless they normally kept their balls someplace other than the usual spot.
She would never have admitted it to a soul but this was actually the first time she had ever seen a naked male person, other than babies, up close. Catching a glimpse of Aunt Boadicea's latest boytoy skulking through the hallways in the altogether didn't count.
"Sit down on the bed and spread your legs," she ordered the boys. "I want to get a good look."
The boys rolled their eyes and muttered but they did as they were told. Phil took a good look from several feet away. It was true, they had no balls. "Hmm," she said aloud, after examining Willie's crotch. And, "Hmm," again after a long look at the area around Dick's -- penis. That was the word, she remembered, penis. What a funny word.
"But aren't they supposed to be bigger?" she asked out loud.
* * *
[next: Hydrohomophobia]
I extended the episodes I had already written and redivided them to make each almost twice as long. I hope they're not still too short. - jijillian
by jijillian
6. Hydrohomophobia
Having two naked boys who would do anything she told them to do had turned into such a kick. Philomena loved it. She understood the phrase, 'drunk with power,' suddenly. "I want you to take a bath -- and shave," she said.
"Shave?" Willie and Dick said at the same time.
They didn't know what to do with their hands -- they wanted to hide behind them but that wouldn't work. They wanted to conceal their groins and their lack of balls but Phil wasn't allowing that. So they gestured wildly while they protested.
"Why do we have to take a bath?" Willie asked. He had an aversion to bathing, anyway, being wet wasn't his favorite thing in the world. It made him cold and sometimes he even got sick; he'd had that problem most of his life. Any sort of exposure to a chill could turn into a cold for him, then bronchitis, then pneumonia. Once he'd even ended up in the hospital on oxygen -- all because of an unscheduled bath. At least, that's the way he remembered it.
Dick protested too. "I don't have to shave yet, I mean, I have but I really don't need to. Maybe in a year or so..." His voice trailed off as he realized that without any balls, he'd probably never need to shave. While that might save him some expense in terms of razors and shaving cream, he didn't really think it was a good trade.
"Yes," said Phil. "You have to take a bath, we're going to be doing magic and I'm going to be naked too and we might touch and I want to be sure that you don't have cooties."
"Cooties?" Dick and Willie said together, gesturing again.
"And when I said shave, I didn't mean just your faces. I mean shave everywhere, well, not the top of your heads. But shave your armpits and legs and your tummies and chests and arms and especially," she paused to take a breath, "shave your groinal areas."
"No way," said Willie.
"Groinal area?" said Dick. "You mean -- down there?" He pointed but turned slightly to conceal the area from Phil's view.
"Yes," said Phil. Keeping a straight face was the hard part, she thought. "Yes," she said again. "I want you both as smooth as babies. The magic will work better that way," she lied.
Dick looked at Willie; he knew the other boy had a problem with getting wet. Willie looked at the floor, then the ceiling, then at Phil. "You sure?" he asked.
"I'm positive," she said. "The bathroom is through there, just go through the closet, there's another door that leads into the bathroom. There's soap and shampoo and washcloths and towels and a new packet of Venus triple-blade razors."
"Augh," said Willie, perhaps because of the name of the razors, perhaps out of fear of getting wet, perhaps for no reason at all.
"Go on," said Phil, motioning them toward the narrow door. "Oh, and there's not much hot water in this old house, you'll have to both shower at once. That way you can help each other shave, too." She thought that last little wrinkle to be inspired.
* * *
Willie put his hands on his hips and glared at the shower, a tiled rectanglular upright box with glass doors barely three foot by four foot, lavish for a converted Victorian. "No way are we both going to fit in there, it's not big enough for Superman's undershorts."
"Oh, sure it is, it's bigger than a phone booth," said Dick, reaching in to turn on the water. "Hey, there's only one knob?" The little bath had a detachable shower head on a hose, too; one of the sorts that had six or eight settings for stimulating sprays -- not merely lavish but approaching decadence.
"When did you ever see a phone booth? I hate those one knob things, my aunt has one." They were both naked and a little uncomfortable about that and so tended to talk without paying much attention to what they said. They had towels and for a moment it occurred to Willie that he could wrap one around him like a, like a skirt so he wouldn't feel so naked. No, he decided, he wouldn't do that. Besides, all the towels were pink.
"I saw one in a museum once, in Pasadena," said Dick. "Good water pressure."
"Huh?" Willie had lost track of what they were talking about. "What had good water pressure in a museum?"
"The phone booth," said Dick. "The water is getting hot pretty quick, too," he added, holding one skinny arm under the stream.
"Oh, la-di-dah." Willie sneered. "'I go to museums in Pasadena and the phone booths have lots of hot water'."
"No," said Dick, "this phone booth does."
"Shower."
"Shower," agreed Dick. "I bet we could take turns and still have enough hot water." He pulled his arm back after adjusting the flow again.
"Are we really going to shave all over?" asked Willie, looking at the package of pretty pink and lavendar razors Philomena had left on the bathroom counter.
"Well, not the top of our heads, she said," Dick corrected. He always liked to be accurate when possible.
"When you pick your nose do you look up 'pedant' in the encyclopedia so you can see which nostril has a booger hanging out?" asked Willie.
"Huh?" said Dick who was impervious to most personal insults through lack of enough social skills to understand sarcasm. He touched the tip of his nose with a forefinger and looked crosseyed at his thumb.
"Never mind," said Willie, who was used to his friend's cluelessness and other quirks. "You go first, you've got the water just like you want it."
"No, you go first, because you're afraid of bathing and shouldn't put it off," said Dick who was used to his friend's prevarication and other quirks.
Phil's voice came through the door, she must have been standing in the closet, listening. "If you aren't both bathed and shaved in fifteen minutes, I'll throw you out of the house naked."
"She wouldn't," said Willie. "It would be embarrassing to her, too."
"Well, think of what she's already done to us," said Dick.
"She couldn't," said Willie. "We each outweigh her by at least twenty pounds."
"Remember, she's a witch," said Dick.
The boys both looked at the shower stall again as Phil's laughter came through the connecting door.
* * *
[next: Potatoes and Roots]
by jijillian
7. Potatoes and Roots
Philomena could tell from the sounds that the boys had gotten into the shower stall together. She laughed quietly, picturing it and knowing they couldn't hear her through the wall with the water running.
The funniest thing was that they believed she had something to do with their losing their balls when she had no idea how that had happened. She'd heard a lot about them in the week after they had both asked her for a date, her girlfriends at school had dished a lot of dirt, some of it sticky enough to be true -- or as good as true and that was what counted, after all.
Janice had said that Dick collected Magical Girl Manga and Anime from Japan, some straight and some kinky, or hentai, as it was called. Some of those stories had boys turning into girls and the girls were always cute little airheads, tiny gigglers with those high-pitched anime girl voices. A lot of them involved girls getting captured and tied up, too, or threatened by things with tentacles. Space aliens, magical curses, weird half-animal transformations, nothing was too strange for some Japanese pervert to put into a comic book or cartoon.
Hmm, thought Phil. She pulled a long t-shirt dress off a hangar and slipped it on. It had a picture of Betty Boop winking on the chest. Phil liked Betty Boop. She liked all sorts of sexy and sassy female icons, like Betty. Tinkerbell, Kim Possible, Marilyn Monroe, to name a few but her current heroine was Sara Jessica Parker who she wanted to be just like, except with a better nose.
Britney, another girl at school, had a story, too -- that Willie collected photoshopped pictures of girls with enormous breasts and also manga, comics and videos about girls growing breasts so big they wouldn't fit in the overhead storage bins and needed their own airline tickets. She said her brother had seen part of the collection and had to lie down with a cold pack on his eyes when he got home. Her brother was a dork who probably got weak just thinking about girls panties, let alone seeing pictures of naked girls with huge boobs.
Phil had never imagined that comics about girls growing huge breasts existed. Who would draw them? And why? Boys were just weird. Somehow, big breasts created some kind of power over males. Marilyn and Tink had large breasts, Kim had none, really, Sarah and Betty had modest ones. Phil looked down at herself, still thinking, alone in the walk-through closet. Her own breasts certainly put her in the large category for her age group. Well, all right then. She arched her back and suppressed another giggle.
To think those two oddballs had the nerve to ask her for a date, both on the same day. Had they planned it? Some kind of dork-leading-the-dork conspiracy? "Eww," she said, making her boiled-broccoli-and-tuna-casserole face. If she had really known a spell to cause them to lose their balls, she would certainly have used it.
Of course, there were other boys more deserving of such a revenge. Dick and Willie were just annoying geeks; her school had some real assholes. She wouldn't have wasted real magic on losers like the two in her shower. She smiled at a thought. Maybe their balls just shrank away to nothing from reading too much of their favorite literatures.
No doubt about it, boys like Willie and Dick were too weird for her to hope to understand. And without their balls, they must submit to her will; it was like balls for boys equalled breasts for girls. Sort of. How had they happened to lose those emblems of their masculinity, anyway?
She shrugged, not really caring how it had happened. But as a consequence, the two boys believed her to be a real witch with real magic powers. And they'd do anything she told them to do.
She left the closet then to go back to her room, afraid they might hear her giggling if they turned the water off. She had an idea for the perfect joke to play on them but she needed to do some preparation.
The first thing to do, she decided, was to get rid of their clothes. She took the liner out of the trashcan under her desk and stuffed it full with the clothing the boys had left on the bed. Dick's careful stack and Willie's haphazard pile both went into the plastic bag, minus her own clothing which she extracted and tossed into a drawer.
She took the sack full of boy clothes downstairs to hide in the butler's pantry between the dining room and kitchen in a big enameled, sheet metal container She had to stuff the bag in, even though the vegetable bin was empty.
Her aunts sometimes found the oddest things to go with the house; the bin had a painted script label that read, "Potatoes and Roots for the Table." That was odd but not odder than the two odd-no-balls she had collected in her bathroom. She laughed again. The boys still had their roots but their potatoes had gone missing.
She snickered and chortled and giggled for more than a minute. Maybe you needed to be there, but she thought it was funny, still laughing as she headed back upstairs to her own room.
* * *
by jijillian
8. Shaving Private You-Know-Who
The boys found the shower stall crowded but not impossible; they had to help each other soap up though. After a moment or two in their together, they thought they really understood the phrase, 'elbow room.'
It felt very strange, being so close to another naked person. And experiencing skin on wet skin felt novel and exciting in a strange way. They tried hard not to think of that. It didn't work completely. But it failed in a very odd way. They became aware of each others bodies in a way they had never noticed another living person's actual person before. It wasn't a comfortable knowledge, exactly.
Both boys were thin to the point of skinniness with weedy arms and bony shoulders. They didn't quite have their full height yet, either. Willie was about average for his age, Dick a little under even though nearly a month older; he'd already turned fifteen. So they were both ten or fifteen pounds underweight for their height and age.
Narrow chests and hips, only their legs had any real muscle on them and that not overmuch. They seemed poised in that borderland between the androgyny of childhood and the burgeoning of secondary sex characteristics that is adolescence.
But without balls, would they even have an adolescence? Their situation restrained them, just exactly why they were where they were; they needed help to find out just what had happened to them and the first possible help they found turned out to have some very strange demands.
But none of that really explained the images that went through their minds.
Dick kept wondering what Willie would look like in a sailor fuku. Not that there was anything particularly feminine about Willie, except, well except that he had no balls. Still, Willie had a cute face with chubby cheeks and a turned up nose. Maybe a nurse uniform, Dick mused.
For Willie's part, he imagined Dick with a bit more -- up top. And maybe a pink bow in his black hair. A little gold bikini and some suntan oil, that would look really cute with Dick's skin tone. The image disturbed Willie even while it intrigued him. Sadly, Dick had no balls but he had no breasts, either.
Neither had ever thought of his friend that way before showering together. It was surreal, psychedelic, boggling, to have such thoughts -- even before they got to the shaving part.
Neither had much experience with shaving, though they had tried it on their faces. Shaving other places seemed -- grown-up but kinky.
They decided that each would shave his own armpits and groin but that they would shave each other's legs. They fetched razors, turned off the water and soaped up places to shave.
Willie had a bit of chest hair and after some internal debate, he shaved that too, fairly sure that Phil had ordered them to be smooth all over. While he shaved his pits and chest, Dick squatted down to shave Willie's legs, noting that they were shapely enough to look good below a skirt and trying very hard to pretend he wasn't thinking such things. But wouldn't they look even better in a cute pair of high heels?
It didn't take long and they soon switched places, Dick beginning on his own pits while Willie shaved his legs for him. Dick shaved his chest too, though it would have been more time efficient to pluck out the six or seven isolated hairs growing in their off center patch to the right of his breastbone.
Willie noted with some chagrin that while Dick had very little upper body muscle, his legs looked firm and nicely sculpted. In fact, they were the loveliest pair of legs he'd ever been so close to in his life. They were also the only pair of legs he'd ever been so close to. Nice legs were the second best thing about a girl, almost better than big breasts, Willie decided, knowing full well that his friend was not a girl. Still.
Shaving their groinal areas proved the most difficult job. For one thing, they couldn't see down there easily. For another, this caused them to confront their loss. The sacks that should have held family jewels seemed flat and shrunken and impoverished and both boys felt some paranoia about whether or not his namesake had not also shrunk.
Seeing what they were doing was a real problem but they hadn't gone so far into -- whatever had got them this far -- as for either to ask the other to do the shaving for him. They each did their own and that they didn't do themselves any injury is perhaps due to the extreme care they took in what was essentially a blind operation.
It took so long that Philomena called through the door. "I don't hear any water running in there. I'm going to shut it off in two minutes." She didn't sound threatening exactly, more like she enjoyed, the power, whatever, she had over the boys.
"We're almost done," Dick called back. "We just need to rinse and dry off."
"Yeah," said Willie, his voice breaking upward. "We'll be right out."
Their voices sounded odd, tense, out of tune. Philomena smiled, looking around the inside of her closet wondering what stuff of hers would fit them and just how she would manage to get them to wear it.
[next: Magic Words]
by jijillian
9. Witnao Olugai Maniit
9. Witnao Olugai Maniit
The boys trooped out of the closet with their heads wrapped in towels and more towels around their waists. "Leave the towels in the bathroom," Philomena ordered. "I told you, we would do this magic naked. We'd do it outside under the sky but the neighbors are too nosy."
"B-but," Willie stammered.
Dick noticed something right away. "Where are our clothes?" he pointed at the bed.
"I took them downstairs," said Phil, not lying. "Now take off those towels and put them in the hamper in the bathroom." She'd already noticed their hairless chests and pits, and she tried not to giggle while waiting as they went back through the closet and left the towels in the bath.
They came back out completely naked, holding their hands and arms awkwardly as if they couldn't quite make up their minds about what to cover.
"Put your hands up," Phil ordered. "I wanna see." They did, she looked. Like little naked worms, she thought. They hadn't got any bigger since she'd seen them before, if anything they looked smaller. They sure looked bigger in the pictures on the internet. She stifled giggles.
Willie and Dick wanted to run, they wanted to hide, they wished they had never agreed to shave, they wished that Philomena wouldn't make those noises. Mostly they wanted their balls back and wished they had never asked Phil for dates.
"Okay, sit on the floor," Phil finally told them.
Dick dropped to his knees and sat back on his heels. Willie sort of tripped himself and ended up sitting on his bare butt on the carpet, making an audible 'Oof!" when he landed. His hands went up and out at the same time and he nearly smacked Dick across the face.
"Watch it," said Dick, dodging.
"Sorry," said Willie. "But she's wearing a dress while we're naked. I don't think that's fair."
Philomena smiled. "You want to wear a dress, too?"
Dick and Willie both blushed. "No," said Willie. "That's not what I meant...."
"Don't worry," said Philomena. "I'll be naked, too, when we start the spell. In fact," she said, squatting then sitting as she pulled the Betty Boop tee over her head. "Let's start right now." She reached toward them, "put out your hands."
They each reached toward her with one hand and she grabbed the palm of each of their hands between her thumb and long finger. Without prompting, the boys held each other's other hand.
"I'm going to teach you the words to a magic spell. If you can say them just right, they should be able to transform you back to what you were before."
Willie nodded, Dick looked intrigued.
Phil closed her eyes and gave the boys' hands each a squeeze. "The first word is 'Witnao', this is the Universal Soul in Old High Persian. A very powerful word. Say it with me. 'Witnao'."
The boys repeated it, "Witnao."
Phil led them in several more repetitions. "More rough breathing on the 'W', you have to pronounce magic words correctly," she said. "Witnao. Witnao. Witnao."
"Witnao. Witnao. Witnao," the boys said. Willie came down on the rough breathing so hard he almost hacked up a loogie and Dick gave him one of those looks you give a friend who is about to make an ass of himself.
"Okay, I think you've got that one," said Phil. "The next word is 'Olugai.' Olugai is the name of the Spirit That Moves on the Deep, we're going to invoke him, too."
"What language is it from?" Dick asked.
"Uh, the Forgotten Tongue of Canaan, only a few powerful name words survive of that language," said Phil, managing not to smirk.
"Do we have to do rough breathing?" asked Willie.
"No, no. This one is easier to say. Just don't say 'Olujai' in the chant. That's the Ur-Finnish God of Wounded Animals. You only mention him in a spell if you're trying to do a mercy killing."
"Olugai," said Dick.
"Yes, Olugai," said Phil.
And Willie said, "Olugai," too.
"You've got that one, now the third one is hard again. It's 'Maniit', and that's a long vowel in the second syllable, 'Maniit'."
"Mannie-yet," said Willie.
"Not that long," protested Phil, "he won't know you're talking to him."
"Maniit," said Dick. "Who's he?"
"Oh, he's the Mongolistan version of the King of the Djinn, sort of, except they're not Djinn, they're Maniiti," said Phil, enjoying herself immensely. So much so, that she had to pause and compose herself to keep from breaking up laughing. She pulled her hands away from the boys and put them together in front of her and concentrated on getting her face straight and keeping it that way. "Om, on, ong, li, a, mey, non," she said in a singsong.
Willie began, "Om-on-ong," but she interrupted him.
"No, you don't say that part. That's part of the spell, I have to say that. You guys just keep invoking the spirits who'll make the spell work," said Phil.
They looked at her.
She rolled her eyes. "Just say their names. One after the other. Close your eyes," she took their hands again. "Start with 'Witnao,' he likes to be first."
"He does?" said Dick, intrigued by this detail.
"Just. Say. The. Names." Phil enunciated clearly, getting annoyed at the brick-thick geekiness of the boys. "Witnao!" she snapped.
"You forgot the rough breathing," said Willie.
Dick murmured, "Witnao," but didn't repeat it, confused by Willie.
"No, I didn't forget the rough breathing," said Phil. "Close your eyes!"
They closed their eyes.
"Say the names," Phil ordered them.
"Witnao," said Willie.
"Olugai," said Dick at the same time.
Phil put her hands on her head and tried not to scream. "You have to say the names together, at the same time!"
"But I don't know if I know how to say the third one right," protested Willie.
"It's Manit," said Phil, glaring at him.
"No," said Dick. "It's Maniit, with a long vowel, like in Japanese, kind of."
"Yes," said Phil. "You're right. It's Maniit. You guys are making me crazy."
"Manyet," said Willie.
"Maniit," said Dick.
"Maniit," said Phil.
"Maneet," said Willie.
"For Pete's sake, are you ...." Phil choked herself off before she gave the game away with her accusation.
"Maniit," said Dick.
"Okay, I got it," said Willie. "Maniit."
"By George, I think he's got it," said Dick in a fake British accent. "He's really got it!"
Willie and Phil both rolled their eyes.
She reached for their hands again. "Okay, now we can begin, ready?"
Dick didn't take her hand. "We can't start yet."
"Why not?" she almost whined.
"'Cause you said we all have to be naked and you still have your panties on," said Dick.
Willie nodded. "Yeah. Oh, good save, Dick. It probably wouldn't work at all if she had her panties on."
"Uh, what's the spell going to do, anyway?" asked Dick.
"Bring our balls back, I hope," said Willie.
Phil clenched her teeth, "It's going to undo the spell I did earlier, so you should both have your balls back and you can get the hell out of my house!"
"Oh, good," said Dick.
"Yeah," said Willie. "And we won't ask you for any more dates."
"Not even any figs," said Dick, smiling.
"Figs?" said Phil. "Who the fuck is talking about ...." She stopped, realizing she'd been had.
"He does that all the time," said Willie. "It's like a nervous habit, punning. It wouldn't be so bad if they were actually funny."
"Well, they're punny," said Dick.
"You keep it up, she's going to make our balls grow back on our faces, idiot," said Willie.
"What a good idea," said Phil through her clenched teeth.
"Don't give her any good ideas," said Dick to Willie.
Phil grabbed for their hands again but both of them avoided her grasp.
"Panties," said Willie, pointing.
Phil stood up, yanked down her floral nylon lace panties, stepped out of them and flung them where they landed on the computer monitor.
The boys both stared. They'd never seen a completely naked girl in person before, neither of them. Well, other than the odd baby girl niece or cousin, not a naked teenaged girl with a gingery bush, neatly trimmed for wearing a bikini.
Phil checked. Both boys stared but neither of them had a hard-on. "Thanks for that, at least," she said aloud. She flexed her hips one way then the other but nothing ventured, nothing grew. She snorted, amused.
She sat down and reached for their hands. They stopped trying to see what they'd never seen before and took her hands, also taking each other's hand on the other side.
"Close your eyes," she ordered.
They closed their eyes.
"Say the first name."
"Witnao," they both said.
"Second name."
"Olugai."
"Third."
"Maniit." They both got it right.
"Say them all again."
"Witnao. Olugai. Maniit," they said together.
"Keep saying them," she told them. "Over and over. I have to get my spirit calm enough to work the spell."
"Witnao. Olugai. Maniit," they said again and again, not pausing.
Phil sat quietly, her own eyes closed, listening.
"Olugai, Maniit, Witnao," said the boys, over and over.
She smiled.
"Oh, look, I'm a nitwit now," said the boys, again and again.
* * *
[next : Wearing Miss Daisy]
by jijillian
10. Bippity Boppity Boobies
10. Bippity Boppity Boobies
Philomena Duvalle came out of her trance slowly. She could still hear the boys chanting the absurd words she had taught them but someone else was saying something too, in a language she didn't recognize.
"Em neh ra toh fet," the voice said. "Yam ta lang toh set. Seh teh foh nan met. Su meh fa loh ket." It had a sing-song quality; it even rhymed. Phil wondered if it might be poetry from one of her quirky aunt's oddball CD collections.
She almost fell back into her trance until she realized that the voice chanting Old High Martian was her own. Her eyes snapped open.
The boys, Willie Richards and Dick Williams, still sat opposite her in the little triangle they had formed -- completely naked, just as before. Except ... except now they had little boobies on their chests. Boys with breasts.
Philomena tried to stop chanting to squeal in surprise. It wasn't that the breasts the boys had suddenly grown were that large; they weren't, really. Just little nubbins a lot like the ones she had herself had three years ago. With slightly shaggy hair and smooth bodies because she'd made them shave, they looked like twelve-year-old girls.
But they were supposed to be boys, and boys didn't have little cupcake titties with pointy Hershey's kisses nipples. Willie's nips were almost milk-chocolate-dark while Dick's were more caramel-colored. Even if they had lost their balls, they shouldn't have tits like those.
The image the boys presented disturbed Phil in ways she didn't expect. Virginal weirdness. She felt her own nipples crinkle up and a shiver came up from her middle to vibrate into her brain.
It distracted her from her realization that she had been chanting all this time in a sing-song voice of monosyllablic five-four rhythm. And she couldn't stop chanting!
She kept getting louder, in fact, almost shouting. "Na ti loh ma nen. Loh meh sil nam ren. Kay si noh seh ben. Kim til boh say ken!"
She tried to stop, to clamp her lips closed, to put her hands over her mouth but she couldn't move anything except her eyes and she couldn't stop chanting.
And the boys kept changing!
Again the intriguing sight of girlish-looking boys -- or boyish looking girls? -- distracted her. The boys changed right in front of her eyes and she watched, fascinated. Real magic, who knew?
Subtle things changed, as if their recent puberty were being erased -- or run sideways. Instead of fifteen-year-old boys, a year or so into turning into men, they began to look as if they were a year or so into turning into women. Their faces softened slightly, their hairlines moved down a fraction of an inch, their skin got even smoother than the shaving could account for.
They seemed to shrink a bit, too, their hands, arms, shoulders and hips morphing ever so slightly. She wanted to lean forward to check and see if they still had the sausages that used to keep company with their meatballs. But she still couldn't move.
And she still couldn't stop chanting!
"Let boh fel reh kim. Sen hoh sil sang bim. Im yoh rel neh lim. Yam nel sa boh tim!" she sang, loud enough now that she couldn't hear the boys' chanting their nonsense.
And now she felt herself changing. She couldn't doubt it, she felt pressure in her breasts and something like a pulling sensation in her groin. It was really happening but she had no idea what was happening. She wished she had never pestered her aunts to teach her magic, they'd said it was dangerous. Why hadn't she believed them?
A shiver went through her, a rippling sensation like she sometimes felt while masturbating. She'd borrowed one of Aunt Boadie's vibrators a few times and it felt sort of like that -- like a pleasant electric shock. In fact, it felt pretty good.
Good enough that she wanted to moan a bit with it, if only she would stop chanting!
"Kel ri hong ne koh! Bil sang si bong toh! Tel si im nong roh! Il sang si mong fil - Yam seh tang boh ril!"
The unmistakable mindquake of an orgasm shattered Phil's thoughts. She'd never felt such an explosive release, less like a freight train passing and more like an avalanche falling on her. She rolled with it, rode it, feeling the power and the joy; quivering with the energy of the magic -- or whatever it was. It crested, it peaked, it drove all thought out of her mind -- then it released her suddenly, like a parachute opening or a gun going off.
When she opened her eyes again -- she hadn't realized she had closed them -- the boys still sat opposite her but they had stopped chanting, too. Now they looked pleased and happy with themselves -- like two teenyboppers who've just been told they can keep the kittens they found. They sat, entranced, enchanted, unmoving, smiling.
Their new boobies had grown only a little more but the other subtle changes left no doubt that they were ... were what?
Phil leaned forward to check if they were still technically boys. As she did so, she realized several things. One, she could move again. Two, some sort of weight on her chest shifted position noticeably. Three, yes, the boys still had wieners, though shrunken and still no beans. Four, her mid-length hairstyle had grown out enough to fall in her face. Five, she felt taller, stronger -- prouder?
She liked the feeling. After checking for the evidence of the boys' gender, she looked down at herself. Red gold tresses fell forward, around her face and down over her new larger breasts -- the boys had not been the only ones to be visited by the tit-fairy.
"Wow," she whispered. "I've got more bust than Aunt Boadie and Aunt Julie combined." Big globes wobbled on her chest, big as cantaloupes. "I'm going to need new bras." She chuckled down in her throat, a powerful, sexy, grown-up sounding laugh. She raised her hands and cupped them, trying to figure out just how big they were.
She glanced at the boys again. They'd gone from flat-chested to AA or A-. She seemed to have gone from B+ to D. Cup sizes, that is. She laughed again; she'd been happy with the size of her chest before but this seemed an improvement. Magical bust enhancement. Who knew?
She thought to check between her own legs then but she couldn't see so she dropped a hand into her lap and felt around.
Then she screamed.
* * *
[next: "Magic Doesn't Work Like That!" ]