Anya meets a friend from her childhood. The joy is overshadowed by unpleasant memories being dredged up on all sides.

There have been a lot of questions and speculation about the background of the old woman and Anya, her granddaughter. I came up with this little tale to answer some of the questions. There are still questions lingering — after all, we all love a little mystery.

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This story is copyright by the authors. It is protected by licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

"Greg?"

I turned instinctively at the sound of my name, though there could have been a dozen other guys named Greg in the mall that fateful Friday afternoon.

"Greg, is it really you?" The girl coming my way looked oddly familiar, though I couldn't quite place her. She was tall, at least compared to the girls I knew, and striking in appearance. Her shorts really displayed her long tanned legs, while a light plaid shirt, tails tied above her navel, buttons unfastened, exposed her bared midriff and accentuated her bosom. Her dark wavy hair danced off her shoulders, beautifully framing her face. She had a curious combination of smile and bewilderment on her features, as though she was pleased at seeing me, but puzzled that I didn't recognize her.

"Yes?" I said noncommittally. I needed to buy time to figure out who she was.

The girl stopped and frowned, then she planted her hands on her hips. "Greg Lawson, don't tell me you've forgotten me," she scolded.

By now I was totally baffled. There was something oddly familiar about this girl, but I just couldn't place it.

The frown changed into an impish grin. "How about this? You tried to catch me climbing up a tree in fourth grade, and you fell and broke your arm."

The pieces clicked into place. I couldn't help myself as my jaw dropped open. "Anya?" I asked in disbelief. "Is it ... is it really you?"

Anya grinned. She flared out her hands, then spun quickly, showing off how much she'd grown. "I was wondering if you remembered me."

I couldn't help grinning. "Last time I saw you, you were kind of ..."

Anya smiled pleasantly. "A gangly little thing with braces?"

I should have thought it strange that she plucked the words right out of my mouth. "Well, you were ... we both were ... a little younger." And then, much to my embarrassment, my stomach growled.

Anya giggled — the same happy laugh I'd known all those years ago. "I see you're about as hungry as I am. Why don't we get a bite to eat?"

We sat at a small table, Anya eating her tacos while I munched on a roast beef sandwich. "You don't look like the tomboy I knew," I finally blurted between bites. I was thinking that she looked rather beautiful, as a matter of fact.

Anya almost blushed. "Thanks. I try to stay trim." Once again, it was like she'd read my mind. "What are you doing down here? Finally get tired of the cold and snow?"

This time I couldn't help wrinkling my brow. That was exactly what I'd been thinking. "How'd you know?"

Anya shrugged her shoulders and smiled, again the impish little grin. "Just a little trick I picked up," she said cryptically.

I didn't quite believe her. "I'm going to the U. I'm working on a degree in architecture." I took another bite. "What about you?"

Anya shrugged. "I'm working with my grandmother. She runs a water park, and she's teaching me the business."

My eyes lit up. "Really?" This was exciting, but for different reasons than she might have guessed. "I'm trying to concentrate in leisure and recreation architecture," I blurted. "I'd love to see the park sometime!"

Anya's eyes narrowed, as if I were pulling her leg. "You're kidding, right?" She saw I was serious. "Theme park architecture? That's wild!"

I couldn't help the grin on my face. "It's only natural. Remember how much time we spent at Coaster Heaven?"

Anya got a far-off look, as the memories came flooding back. "We must have spent half our summers there," she said wistfully. "Those were some great rides, weren't they?"

"Yeah, and don't forget Splash World." My memories were crystal clear; I could easily picture the two of us — in our early teens — eager for the summer opening of the parks. Anya and I had been the best of friends.

"How could I?" Anya said, feigning anger. "You beat me swimming all the time — and you rubbed my nose in it."

My laugh was not mocking; it was delight at the memories. "It wasn't my fault I grew faster!"

Anya smiled again. "I guess you were predestined for a job in the industry."

"And you, too!"

Anya shook her head, still smiling. "I didn't think so. Grandmother had to fight to get me to take the job. I didn't understand that it could be as much fun to run the park as to play in it." She got a far-off look in her eyes. "Turns out she was right, like she is on so many things."

"She sounds like a neat lady. I'd like to meet her sometime."

Anya's smile hid some secret, something that clearly amused her. "Oh, I'm sure you'll get a chance."

As we walked to the door, me to go back to class, and Anya to go to work, I had to ask the one question that had been nagging me. "What happened?" Blunt, direct. I knew it was risky, but I couldn't think of any other way. "You just vanished." I felt a tear trying to escape my eye, and I blinked hard to stop it. "I was looking forward to the junior prom, and you just left, without even saying goodbye." The pain of that year came back in a rush, as I knew it would, but I just had to know. Even though we hung out together all the time, it had taken all of my courage to ask her to the prom. And then she vanished, leaving me heartbroken.

Anya stopped and stared at me, a long, hard, penetrating stare that seemed to burn through me. "I'm sorry," she said. Her lip trembled, and I saw her eyes blink quickly to clear the mist. "You wouldn't ..." Anya's eyes suddenly went wide, and then a sadness crept across her features. "Yes, you would understand. You've been through it, too."

I frowned. "What?"

Anya bit her lip, then continued. "My mom died. I had to leave to live with Grandmother." She wiped a tear from her eye, then looked up, her eyes soft with sympathy. "You know how that feels, though, don't you, since you lost your parents in a wreck a couple of years ago."

My jaw nearly hit the floor. Coupled with her surprising insight was the suddenly renewed pain of that loss, of that terrible day. How could Anya possibly understand that I was here because it was away from snow and ice? Ice — the horrible frozen glaze that covered the road on that awful night. The slippery, unforgiving ice, on which the drunk lost control of his car and skidded into my dad's car. Mom was killed instantly when her head smashed into the dashboard. Dad lasted a week, his body slowly shutting down from the terrible internal injuries he suffered when the steering wheel smashed into his chest. I knew none of it for two weeks; I was unconscious and hospitalized myself, having been smashed against the back of Mom's seat. The tears were stinging my eyes as I fought to control my emotions; the pain was still sharp, and occasionally still caught me by surprise — as it did now.

I felt a firm grip on my arm, and I glanced down, to where Anya was holding me. "I'm sorry to bring up those memories," she said simply yet sincerely. "I didn't mean to hurt you again."

I tried to be brave, to wave off her concern, to put on my John Wayne macho face. But I could tell it wasn't fooling Anya.

"Tell you what," she began, "to make up for the prom and to get reacquainted, how about if I take you out to dinner and dancing? You're free tonight, right?"

**********

I gasped with surprise as we pulled up to the restaurant. As a student, there was no way I could afford to eat here. I glanced at Anya, worried about how much this dinner would cost her, but she just smiled.

As we followed the waiter through the restaurant to a cozy booth, I glanced around, almost in awe. The things I'd heard about this restaurant were true — it had a very romantic atmosphere. The lighting was low and intimate, partially absorbed by the dark wood paneling. The tables were deeply-stained oak, with polished brass fittings. The rich green carpet matched the green dyed leather cushions. I whistled to myself again — this was some treat from Anya.

The maitre'd appeared, greeting Anya by name, and then he gave her a wine list. Anya started to open it, then her eyes narrowed and she stared at me for a few seconds. She handed the wine list back to the maitre'd. "No wine tonight," she said pleasantly. After he left, she turned to me. "I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't realize that you don't drink."

To say that my jaw dropped would be an understatement. Seismometers around the world registered the fall. "How…?" I was thoroughly baffled.

Anya smiled again. "I should have known you wouldn't drink. Not after the accident."

"You're scaring me a little," I finally stammered. This was getting more than a bit spooky. She had probed yet another one of my pains. By now, I couldn't deny that she was reading my mind. Once or twice, I could have dismissed as coincidence. All of the details she seemed to know, however, ruled out coincidence.

A worried wrinkle crossed her brow. "I'm really sorry, Greg. I wasn't meaning to scare you." She looked down at the table for a moment, at her hands fidgeting nervously. "You see, I'm a … well, I use magic." From her tone, it was obvious that her admission was painful for her.

I looked at her. "Sort of like 'Bewitched'?"

Anya looked up at me, startled, then grinned. "Yeah, something like that." She laughed. "Most people think of broomsticks and pointed hats. Leave it to you to have an attractive vision." She took a sip of water. "Not really a witch. More like a mage. Grandmother is tutoring me. You see, at her park, I have to read the customers. I'm getting pretty good at it, but I haven't gotten good control over turning it on and off."

My eyes widened a bit. "Your grandmother is teaching you magic, and running a water park? She must be some incredible woman."

Anya smiled enigmatically. "You have no idea."

**********

The smell of bacon penetrated my nostrils and snapped my brain awake. Almost as fast, my eyes popped open. Something was wrong — I didn't recognize my surroundings. I bolted upright in bed, and tried to piece things together.

I was lying in a large bed, on floral-print satin sheets, under a matching floral-print spread. Two white posts interrupted my view; my groggy mind realized it was probably a four-poster bed. I glanced around, noticing that the bedroom was done in red and pink flower print wallpaper. Patio doors, lightly screened by lacy white curtains, led onto what appeared to be a balcony. A large dresser in washed pine, topped by a three-paned mirror, squatted against one wall; a matching vanity huddled in the corner beside the patio doors. A few throw pillows, in whites and pinks and reds, were strewn carelessly about the floor — along with my clothes.

"Morning, sleepyhead." I turned to see Anya coming through the door, wearing only my shirt and carrying a tray. She'd only buttoned a couple of the bottom buttons, leaving a good view into her cleavage. She set the tray at the foot of the bed, and then sat down beside me. Her arms encircled my head as she drew me into a kiss — a long, passionate kiss. "Thought you'd like some breakfast."

I pulled her lips back toward me. "Can it wait?" In answer, she pressed me back into bed.

**********

I stared at Anya between bites; she seemed all the more beautiful every time I looked. Her hair was a bit disheveled, and she was wearing my shirt again as she sipped her cup of coffee. "Aren't you going to eat?" I finally asked.

Anya smiled. "I've got to keep my figure," she said with a smile. "Besides, I've never been a breakfast person."

I couldn't help grinning. "You've done pretty well at it." I finished the last bite of eggs and slurped down my coffee. "You're pretty good at cooking, too. Did you … you know?" I tried to wrinkle my nose like I'd seen Samantha do on Bewitched.

Anya scowled, trying to suppress a laugh. "It doesn't work like that," she said. She rose from the table. "I've got something to show you."

"I think I already saw it," I said playfully as I rose.

Anya wrinkled her nose and slapped my arm playfully. "You're bad!" She took my hand and led me out onto the balcony.

I slid my hand from Anya's and stepped to the railing, leaning forward slightly. The view was extraordinary. The condos were perched at the edge of a gentle slope. While no mountain, it was high enough that the ocean, less than a mile away down the slope, could be seen rolling toward the sandy shore. I felt a sudden tranquillity enter my soul as I took in the view. Slowly, I turned my gaze. Off to the right, buildings poked up through the trees, growing larger and taller and more numerous as they receded into the distance, pointing in their own peculiar way toward the city center a few miles distant.

I felt Anya slide to the railing beside me. "I love the view," she purred. "It's one of the best parts of the condo." We stood silently for a long moment, soaking in the ambiance. "But that's not what I wanted to show you. Over there." She pointed to the left.

I turned my head, and my eyes widened. "Is that … is that where you work?" I finally asked. The water park was only a couple hundred yards away, and from her eighth-floor patio, I could see nearly everything. An artificial volcano rose from its midst, its flanks displaying a number of the distinctive winding aqua tracks of water slides. A large swimming lagoon stood amidst palm trees, surrounded by white sand. A castle — a children's play area? A large wave pool. A sandy volleyball court. A tiki-hut themed pavilion. "You work there?"

Anya smiled. "That's grandmother's park. And yes, I work there."

"Wow!" I couldn't help but be impressed, given my intended studies. "That's some park!"

Anya smiled proudly. "Grandmother is very proud of it. And yes, I'll take you there." Her features clouded, as if she was keeping something from me. "Maybe next weekend."

My heart sank. "Next weekend?" I wanted to go right then.

Anya forced a smile. "You've got a big test next week, and that midterm project, remember? I'm not going to be the cause of your grades falling. Next weekend will be plenty soon for you."

I sighed — she was right. "Okay, I can wait."

We dressed, and then took the elevator down. As we left the building, a limo pulled up in front, and an attractive older woman climbed out. She was nicely tanned, but without wrinkles, and though she looked to be in her mid-thirties, she was likely much older. She wore a perfectly tailored business suit, albeit with a high skirt to display her long curvy legs. Her pearls and pearl earrings were modest but clear displays of her wealth. There was something else about her, too. As some women wore jewelry, she wore power. It was an almost-visible cloak about her; the way she stood, the way she held her head, the way she walked. "Hi, Anya," she said cheerfully.

Anya smiled. "Hi, Ronnie. Have a good trip?"

Ronnie frowned. "Mostly. The travel sucked, as usual, but I closed the deal, which is the important thing." She glanced at me, and I felt like I was on display. "Is this your boyfriend?"

"Greg is a very dear old friend," she said evenly.

"Oh," Ronnie said with a grin. She eyed me again. "Maybe I'll see you around." She turned to enter the building, giving me a quick wink. I was sure Anya hadn't seen it. My mind raced as I tried to figure out if the wink and innuendo meant what I thought it might.

"Why did I feel like I was on display back there?" I asked as she drove toward my dorm.

Anya laughed. "Because you were." She gave me a quick smile. "Ronnie Harris owns the building, and she's always looking for a new boy-toy."

**********

Despite the drudgery of the test and the project, the week seemed to fly past. I took Anya out for pizza one night, and we watched a rented movie another. Finally, it was Saturday morning. I was out the door by the time Anya parked her Miata. I climbed in and gave her a peck on the cheek. "Let's go have some fun," I said.

Almost instantly, I knew Anya was nervous about something. She was very quiet during the ride. It wasn't until we neared the park that she spoke. "There's something about the park I have to tell you," she said hesitantly. She waited a moment, and when I didn't say anything, she continued. "You see, Grandmother built this park for ladies only - as a refuge from lecherous, leering stares and guys hunting girls as bedroom prey."

"So you're asking if I can behave?"

Anya swallowed hard. "No, that's not it." She pulled into her parking lot, but left the car running. "Guys aren't allowed in."

I frowned. "So I don't get to go in, is that it? Or is it some kind of special guest rule or something?"

Anya shook her head. "Uh, you remember when I told you about the magic?" She was truly nervous now.

"Yeah, but …" Suddenly, the pieces snapped together. "What you're saying is that, for me to go in, you have to wave a wand or something to turn me into a girl? Or something like that?"

Anya flinched, biting her lower lip. "Yeah," she admitted.

The frown on my face deepened. "For how long?"

Anya had been holding her breath; she let it out in a sigh of relief. "Just for the duration of the pass. Plus a few hours."

I closed my eyes for a long second, then opened them and nodded. "Okay, I guess it wouldn't hurt." Anya couldn't have possibly known that, inside, I'd often wondered what it would be like to be a girl. It had never been an obsession; more like the normal young male curiosity. Now, I had a unique chance to find out. Since I'd always been kind of daring and adventurous, the prospect didn't bother me too much.

Anya shut off the car, and we walked toward an information booth. It was early in the day, and many cars were parking. With the exception of an occasional man or boy, nearly everyone walking toward the gate was a girl. A few of the girls giggled as they looked at me; obviously, they knew what was in store for me.

Anya left me by the gate while she went into the ticket booth. A few moments later, she came out with a pass.

"So how does this work?" I asked, my nervousness reasserting itself.

Anya smiled. "Change in the men's locker. After you change, shower. Then," she pulled a wad of cloth from seemingly nowhere — more magic - "put this on." The smile broadened. "Grandmother doesn't like topless ladies in her park."

The locker room was tiny in comparison to what I'd expected, but there were plenty of unused lockers. I changed quickly into my trunks, then squared my shoulders and stepped over to the shower stall. I might have been nervous, but I trusted Anya. She wouldn't have brought me here if it caused any harm. I reached in and twisted the handle, then stepped in and yanked the curtain closed.

The shower was warm and had a peculiar tingle to it, as if the jets of water were massaging me clear to the bones. From Anya's clues, I suspected that the shower was the magic part, so I tried to watch what was happening, as if my senses were turned on high. Within seconds, I was surprised to see the mist in the shower stall turning faintly pink, even as the massage effect got more pleasant. Finally, the tingling ended, and I shut off the water. I stood nervously in the shower, waiting and wondering. How was the change going to occur? Would it hurt, or be pleasant? Sudden, or slow?

In my peripheral vision, I saw wispy locks of hair descending slowly, growing longer and thicker. I reached up to touch them, to hold them in front of my eyes as the hair continued to lengthen. And as I watched in amazement, I saw my hand begin to change as well; with an incredible fluidity, my hand grew more slender while my fingers got shorter. A quick glance confirmed that my arms were changing as well, growing less muscular, while the hair seemed to vanish.

I felt a tingle on my chest, and I dropped my gaze, not wanting to miss this wonderful and strange metamorphosis. My nipples were already larger and darker than before, capping tiny cones of breasts which even as I watched swelled outward. Slowly, the cones stretched outward, doing in a few moments what took years in developing girls. I could already feel the weight tugging lightly on my chest and shoulder muscles, and I wondered how they would feel when they stopped.

A glance between my growing breasts showed me that my waist was narrowing, becoming more slender and losing the defined abs which I'd worked to maintain. And lower still, I felt my body rearranging as my hips seemed to widen. I reached slowly behind myself, and touched the larger, rounder, more feminine rear which was forming.

A gasp of surprise escaped my lips when I saw the swimming suit flow like water, changing from a modest pair of trunks into a moderate bikini. Strangely, the bikini bottom was full, holding in my manhood, so I slid my hand down, pulling the bikini away from my body. I was fascinated by the progress of the changes and wanted to see more.

My testicles seemed to lift, pulling themselves with startling speed up, and I could have sworn I felt them moving upwards into my body, destined to reshape into ovaries. My scrotum began to flow, shaping into folds of skin around my shrinking organ. Slowly, unstoppably, my penis continued to shrink, now an inch, now half, until it tucked itself between the still changing folds, settling in as a newly formed clitoris. Below, I felt a tugging sensation, something pulling upward and inward. Surprisingly, it wasn't painful, or even uncomfortable, but I could feel my body being rearranged.

I returned my gaze to the growing weight on my chest, and was amazed to see that the cones had stopped pushing outward, and were now rounding themselves into adult breasts. From the new perspective of my own eyes, they seemed incredibly large, although I knew that in reality they weren't. Still, I cupped them, then let them hang, swaying my body to and fro, feeling the new sensations as the breasts swayed and tugged, bounced and jiggled.

As suddenly as it had started, it was done. I marveled at how rapidly the changes had occurred, how completely I had been changed. I stepped from the shower, picked up the top, and with an ease that completely surprised me, tied it on, as if I'd been doing it all my life.

The back of the door held a full-length mirror; as soon as I saw myself, my mouth dropped in shock. Long brown hair framed a delicate and utterly feminine face; my lips were a bit more defined, and my eyes seemed much larger and softer. My body was, if not divine, quite attractive nonetheless, with modest breasts, a modest waist, and round hips.

I stepped out of the locker room, and flinched from the bright sun. After a second, I squinted and saw Anya. I walked carefully toward her as my eyes continued adjusting. "Amazing!" was all I could say when I got to her.

Anya smiled. "Most men don't take the change very well."

I laughed. "How many men know what to expect?"

It was Anya's turn to laugh. "Touche'."

"Let's go check out the park," I changed the subject abruptly. "That's why we came, isn't it?"

Anya smiled as she took my arm. "Part of the reason," she said cryptically.

**********

The park was even more amazing from the inside than from Anya's balcony. Every little detail was just perfect. The tropical island motif was flawless, down to the coconuts hanging on the palm trees and the thatch-roof huts and service buildings. The other major area, the American river themed area, was equally well done. As we sipped lemonade on the veranda, overlooking the recreation of a slow lazy river, I marveled at the detail. I made a mental note to ask Anya how much magic her grandmother had used to make such a fabulous park.

After lunch, I started getting the feeling that Anya was a little upset. When pressed, she complained that I wasn't enjoying the rides, but was evaluating them. I had to laugh; she was right. It was part of my professional training. I gave in, and we started to play. Anya was highly amused when I lost my top repeatedly on the speed slides. We joined a water-volleyball game, and then rafted on the river ride.

I was more tired than I knew when the park closed. I was also very nervous about changing back, but Anya assured me that my clothes would have changed with me. She was right, and with no thought or effort, I slipped on panties, a bra, and then short shorts and a rather low-cut and short knit shirt. It covered my breasts, but not much more; my navel and tummy were exposed for the world to see. Tennis shoes had become sandals. My wallet had grown into a clutch purse. Inside, a driver's license proclaimed me as 'Geri Lawson'. I suppressed a shudder at thinking of just how powerful the magic was. I gathered my things and left the locker.

As Anya pulled out of the lot, she glanced my way. "Well?"

I looked at her, then smiled. "Well, what?" Before she could say any more, I chuckled. "How did I like being a girl today? Was it interesting, or repugnant, or awful? Was it worth it to see the park?" I saw the smile spread across her face. "Yes, it was interesting. And yes, it was worth it."

"So now what do you want to do?"

The idea that there was more daytime until I changed hit me like a hammer. I had been so wrapped up, first in examining the park, and then in playing, that I'd forgotten that I was stuck for the evening.

"Want to go out for dinner?" Anya asked when I didn't answer? "Maybe dancing or something?"

I shuddered. "Uh, can you just take me home?" I asked nervously.

Anya glanced at me and smiled. "No, I don't think so. Not tonight, anyhow." She probably felt my confusion, and continued. "You're not used to being a girl, and it probably wouldn't be safe. You can't go back to your dorm." She paused to change lanes. "I thought you'd spend the night with me."

I felt a rush of conflicting emotions. I was very flattered, after our previous evening, that she wanted me to be with her. But as a girl? "Uh, Anya," I began hesitantly, "are you, uh, you know?"

Anya chuckled. "The word is lesbian," she said lightly. "And no, I'm not. I'm not interested in you — as a girl. As Greg," she got a very broad grin, "well, that's a different story."

"So where are we going?" I asked.

"While you were getting dressed, I ordered some Chinese food. I hope you don't mind. We'll pick it up, and then go back to my place."

I glanced at her and smiled. "Sounds good to me."

Normally, I would have devoured a full order of shrimp with lobster sauce. This body, however, was a little more constrained. I managed less than half before I felt stuffed. I helped Anya clean up, scooping the leftovers into some Tupperware, then into the freezer.

"I don't understand a few things." We were sitting on her balcony, sipping tea and enjoying the evening.

Anya didn't even look my way. "Like what?" she asked.

"The park. Why ladies only?"

Anya shook her head. "I don't know, exactly." She laughed, an ironic sort of laugh. "I know grandmother better than anyone, and even I don't know. Something happened to her — something awful, I think. She won't talk about it, but she's almost fanatical about protecting the privacy of ladies."

"But why a park? If she's that powerful…"

Anya shook her head. "I don't know all the details. The only magic she does is associated with the park." Anya looked thoughtful. "I'm not sure if it's because the wizards' council limits her, or if she agreed to limit her magic, or if she's just scared to use it."

I wrinkled my features. "Scared? As powerful as she is?"

Anya snorted. "Yeah, it does seem strange, doesn't it." She took a sip of tea. "Look, you don't drink, do you - because you're scared, right?"

I felt the memories surge through me, cutting like a million knives. Tears started stinging my eyes. "I'm scared that I might do what …"

Anya clutched my arm. "I'm sorry. I didn't know it hurt so much."

I wiped the tears from my eyes. The silence between us was awkward; finally, I broke it. "I think I understand. She saw something awful, or did something bad, and is afraid to use her magic like that."

Anya noticed the shiver that pulsed through me. Her eyes narrowed.

I saw her concerned stare, and tried to smile. "Just cold," I lied. In fact, it was partly true; when we'd gotten to her place, I had taken off the bra. I didn't know how women could wear them; it was really uncomfortable to me. Besides, secretly I wanted to enjoy how my breasts bounced and jiggled and swayed — before I turned back into Greg. Now, in the short top, the breeze had chilled me — especially my breasts. I glanced down and saw my erect nipples trying to poke through the shirt. I glanced back at Anya, and saw her grin. I felt my face reddening.

"Enjoying the feelings?" she teased.

I was grateful for the dim lighting on the balcony; otherwise, Anya would have seen just how embarrassed I was. "Hadn't thought about it," I lied.

Anya smiled again. "No, I'm sure you haven't." Then she almost laughed. "I guess we really tired you out today, didn't we." I had hoped that she hadn't seen my yawn.

I started to deny it, but chuckled instead. "Yeah, I guess we did."

Anya stood up and took my arm. "Come on, then, let's get you to bed." She led me, with no protest, into the bedroom and Anya sat me on the bed. As I watched, she rummaged through a drawer and pulled out something and tossed it to me.

I held up the article of clothing, and as recognition dawned, my eyes widened. "I can't wear this!" I protested. It was a lacy white teddy; with it on, I'd still feel naked. And it was so very feminine.

Anya laughed. "Sure you can," she retorted. "Women wear teddies to bed all the time."

"But when I change..."

Anya's grin turned to a frown. "Damn! I should have remembered that!" She cursed under her breath. "You're right. When you change back, it wouldn't, and it'd probably get torn apart." She reluctantly placed the teddy back into the drawer. When she turned back toward me, she was holding a rather large T-shirt. "Is this better? Or would you rather sleep in the buff?"

I snatched the T-shirt from her hand and began to change. "I never could sleep nude."

I lay still on one side of Anya's bed trying not to move so she could sleep. Though I felt the weary ache in my every muscle, at the same time, the new sensations of having breasts move with every breath, the odd tickle of long hair against my shoulders and back, kept my senses awake. Moonlight filtered through the lacy curtains, suffusing the room with a dim glow. Lying on my back, as I was, I could see the outlines of my breasts rising and falling with each breath I took. Though I felt exhausted, I didn't want to sleep, but rather to enjoy every sensation I could.

"Are you awake?" Anya whispered.

"Um hmm."

"I thought so. I figured you'd savor every last second." She rolled a bit. "Did you ... you know?"

I felt my cheeks burning, and I held my breath so it wouldn't betray me. How could I admit having touched myself — in this body?

The smile could almost be heard. "I thought so." She'd guessed my shameful little secret. "To tell the truth, I'd have been surprised if you _hadn't_."

I rolled toward her. "Wouldn't you? If it were reversed, I mean." I know I sounded defensive.

Anya laughed softly. "Yeah, I would." There was something behind her words that I couldn't quite figure out, some hidden meaning in her tone of voice, but I was too tired to pursue it. "See you in the morning."

"'Night."

**********

I woke with a start — I was back in my own male body. I fought the impulse to sit up suddenly; instead, I pried my eyes open.

I assumed Anya was still asleep, since she was laying with her back to me. Her breathing was soft and rhythmical, and she was motionless. Cautiously, I eased myself from under the covers and off the bed, glancing over my shoulder as I did to make sure I didn't disturb the sleeping angel. The T-shirt I'd worn to bed was the largest Anya had; in my male body, it was barely adequate.

After relieving myself and pulling on my shorts, I tiptoed out of the bedroom to the kitchen. I was determined to make breakfast for Anya; then I remembered what she'd said. I settled for brewing a pot of coffee. When it was done, I poured a cup, and then slipped out onto the balcony.

The sun was rising, casting golden highlights on the waves and the treetops, while a gentle morning breeze wafted the smells of the ocean over the land. Away in the distance, gulls squawked as they flapped around the beach, so noisily that the sound carried all the way to the condos.

I eased myself into the same chair I'd occupied the previous night; it was already hard to believe that last night, I'd been a girl. And yet, the memories were fresh enough that I couldn't help smiling.

The sound of the door sliding startled me. I spun my head to see Anya padding out to join me. "Morning," she said with a smile. In her hand, she carried a steaming cup. "Thanks for making the coffee." With practiced grace, she eased into the chair beside me. "So what are you thinking?"

I smiled. "You tell me."

She frowned at the ribbing, but I could tell she was being playful. "I thought that made you nervous." She closed her eyes for a moment and took a sip of coffee. "You're thinking of yesterday, and the change. You're also curious about how the magic works."

I nodded. "I mean, how powerful is it? I know it changed my driver's license, but how much else? How far do the changes go?"

Anya took another sip. "It depends. In some cases, the entire fabric of reality is altered. The man never existed; the woman he changed into always did. Everyone who should knows the woman."

"Wow!" That sure beat any parlor trick I'd ever seen. Anya and her grandmother dealt with some pretty powerful stuff.

Anya glanced at me and smiled. "You said it. But we try not to do that too often. It takes a lot of power. And mistakes can be pretty ... um ... difficult to deal with. Usually, we keep the effects local. Take you, for example. You got clothing and a driver's license to go with your new body. But if you'd asked anyone you knew, they would have remembered Greg, but not Geri."

I nodded, thinking I understood. "But how did I know how to do things? Putting on a bra, going to the bathroom. You know — things."

Anya laughed. "Most of the time, the new woman gets skills to match her new body. Things like you said, and sometimes more. How to wear makeup. How to match clothing and shoes and accessories. Things a girl would learn, but a guy wouldn't." She grinned. "It's kind of funny to change the body without changing the skills. The poor guy spends all his time trying to acquire habits a woman knows instinctively." The grin faded. "Grandmother saves that for really bad cases."

The subject of mental changes sent a shiver down my spine. "So, you could change a person, and their mind, and they'd believe and act like they'd always been a woman?" The thought scared me. They could have changed me — without my ever knowing it. "What else can you change?"

Anya's expression went somber. "Grandmother can change just about anything."

"Like?" I didn't want to let it go; I had some strange urge to know more.

"Well," she said softly, "we've had fraternity boys come to the park to pick up girls. Sometimes, it's for hostesses for their parties, if you get my drift." I nodded. "Well, when they get changed, they end up with maxed-out libido, so the new 'hostesses' act exactly like what they hoped. And their actions and words can be controlled."

I really shuddered. "I could have ..."

Anya nodded. "If you'd had bad intentions, you might have ended up a bimbo slut for the evening."

I swallowed hard. "But the changes are only for the day, right?"

Anya shook her head, almost imperceptibly. "The change lasts as long as the pass, and we sell a variety of passes - one day, two day, week-long."

"And longer?"

"Up to lifetime." Anya's voice was even, unwavering. Still, I could tell my question upset her.

"Which makes the change permanent, right?"

We sat for several minutes in silence. I figured Anya wasn't going to volunteer any more information, and I was afraid of what else I might discover. Finally, my curiosity overcame my doubts. "What else? If I went back, would I always end up like I did?"

Anya smiled. "Guys with a love of large breasts usually get what they want. That can be controlled. Did you wonder if blondes really have more fun? You could try it out." She glanced at me, and then continued. "Age — that can vary. We had a man whose wife had him turned into a little girl. They're both very happy, by the way. Usually, it's younger, but we could go older." I turned, but she sensed my question. "No, we never make someone young into an adult. That would be hideously immoral."

"But if someone wanted to change, say, into a redheaded super-busty eighteen year old, the magic could do that? And then on another visit, a dark-haired petite Oriental woman?"

Anya turned and stared at me. Her features betrayed a growing sense of concern at the direction my questions were taking. "Yeah, it could be done," she said warily. "Why?"

I shrugged. "Just curious. I wanted to know more about how it works." When her frown didn't abate, I chuckled. "No, I'm not planning on asking for stuff like that."

Anya's features relaxed. "Good. 'Cause I like you just the way you are right now."

We sat for another few moments. "It's too bad you can't change."

Anya's eyes narrowed. "Why?"

I shrugged. "We played a lot when we were growing up — you were a tomboy. I taught you how to throw a fastball, remember. But if you could change, you know, make yourself younger, you could do things girls do — we could do them together."

"Who said I can't change?" Anya said cautiously.

"But ..." The words sputtered to a halt. "Hmm, I guess you didn't say. So you can run the magic too?"

Anya gave me another of her enigmatic smiles. "Let's just say that I'm learning."

I felt a chill. This was some very powerful magic that her grandmother used. And Anya was learning how to use it as well. Her grandmother must have thought that she had a lot of potential.

**********

Anya stood in the doorway of the ticket booth, holding the door open. "You sure you want to do this?" I swallowed, trying to calm my nerves, then nodded. "Be right back," she said. The door closed behind her.

I leaned back against the ticket booth. Around me, as yesterday, girls streamed into the park. Some of them smiled at me; others grinned or giggled. I watched as a family — husband and wife, with a boy and girl in tow, stepped through the turnstile.

"Hey, dude." A guy, in baggy shorts and a heavy-metal band T-shirt was walking toward me. He stopped and leaned against the booth like me. With his short-cropped blond hair, he looked to be a typical surfer type.

"Hey," I answered back. "What's up, man?"

The guy grinned and glanced around. "This place looks awesome, dude! Lots of babes, eh?"

I smiled to myself, knowing what was going to happen. "Some nice scenery. You getting a pass?"

The guy smiled. "You know it, dude! My bud is buying them now."

His partner, similarly attired, came around the corner, holding the two passes in his hand as if they were gold. "Score, man!"

The first guy straightened himself. "Later, dude!" He and his buddy walked quickly toward the turnstile, their heads swiveling as if on bearings, watching girls.

The door opened, and a cool air-conditioned breeze wafted out of the booth on me. Anya closed the door behind her. "Here it is. Just what we asked for."

I took the ticket and we walked toward the turnstile. Anya slid a laminated photo-ID card through the card-reader and stepped through the turnstile. I swiped my card and followed her.

"Meet you outside?" Anya asked.

"Can we wait a second?" I stopped between the buildings, in a sort of courtyard formed by the gate, the two locker rooms, and a big gift shop.

"Sure," Anya said, a puzzled frown on her face. "What's up?"

I laughed. "You saw those surfer dudes, right?" She nodded. "I just wanted to see what comes out of the locker."

It wasn't long until my curiosity was satisfied. Two teenage girls, both with striking figures and long blond hair, emerged from the men's locker room. Both clutched at their chests, trying to conceal their breasts. Panic was etched on their features. As we watched, Grandmother came over and began chiding them for topless sunbathing. It was against her rules, she declared. A quick wave of her hand, and two bikini tops appeared, which just happened to match the bottoms the ‘girls' were wearing. Both started to protest, but their features seemed to soften, and the panic-stricken expression melted away. Within seconds, they were acting like beach bunnies — the type of girl the former surfer dudes liked around them. They tied on their tops and scampered off into the park, giggling as they went.

I shook my head. "Amazing!" I exclaimed under my breath.

Anya grasped my arm. "Still want to go through with this?" I swallowed hard and nodded. "Okay, meet you out here in a minute."

The change was everything I'd remembered, except this time, I seemed to shrink a lot. I stopped and stared into the mirror, gawking at the twelve or thirteen-year-old girl who stared back at me. In my last change, I'd thought I was a rather attractive young lady. Now, I was a spindly, awkward little freckle-faced girl, with tiny buds where my boobs were starting to grow. My long sandy-blond hair was tied in a ponytail, which bobbed and tickled my back as I moved. The inside of my mouth felt funny somehow, and I nearly fainted when I opened it and confirmed that my tongue had indeed felt braces!

I was surprised at how heavy the door seemed, and how skinny my arms were. With a mighty tug, I opened the door and stepped out into the bright sunlight. Anya, still in her adult form, quickly tied the swimsuit's top on me. I was surprised at how I had to look up to her, and how strong she looked - and how much more mature.

"Wait a second," I wailed, surprising myself at the little-girl voice, "you didn't change."

Anya smiled. "Not yet." She glanced around, and then pulled me to a little alcove between buildings. She muttered something under her breath as she made a few gestures, and then her body began to shift. It was like watching an aging movie, but in reverse. Her body slimmed, losing its delightful feminine curves. At the same time, she shrank in height until we were about the same size. Within seconds, it was over; Anya and I were little girls."

"Let's go to the academy," Anya said with a laugh as she raced down the concrete path.

I turned a corner, following Anya, and nearly ran over one of the lifeguards. With a practiced skill, she swooped one arm down and caught me, lifting me off the ground. "Whoa, there. No running around the pools."

Anya turned, and then pranced back. "Hi, Liz."

The lifeguard glanced down at her, then her eyes widened as she recognized Anya. "Anya? Is that you?" Her words belied her certainty.

Anya grinned. "Yup. You're holding my friend — Greg. We decided to play today."

Liz glanced down, then let me down. "Okay, um, ..." She looked confused. "Anya, what do we call her?"

Anya laughed. "Geri. She's Geri today."

Liz smiled. "Nice to meet you, Geri. Just remember to follow the rules, okay?" She turned back to the pool, but glanced over her shoulder. "And I've got a class starting in a few minutes. Stay out of the shallow end, okay?"

We walked away from where Liz' class was gathering. At one end of the pool, a large climbing structure jutted out of the water. Some kids were attempting to clamber to its top, mostly without success.

"Liz is our senior lifeguard," Anya said as we neared the pool.

I frowned. "Isn't she kind of YOUNG...?"

Anya laughed. "If you only knew..." she said quizzically.

I stopped. "You mean she's ... she was ... she's been changed?" Anya laughed without answering. I frowned. "Sheesh, it seems like everyone I meet here has been changed." I stopped and turned to face her. "Maybe you, too?"

Anya got a most peculiar expression. She grinned wickedly and pushed me into the pool. I came up sputtering, my long hair dripping in my eyes, just as Anya did a cannonball into the pool, getting me wet once more.

"Anya!" The stern voice called from the shallow end. "No cannonballs!" Liz had her hands on her hips to emphasize the point. Anya nodded sheepishly; no matter her status, she was bound by the same rules.

I stuck my tongue out at Anya, relishing that she'd been caught, and then I turned and swam toward the wall. Swimming was much harder than it should have been; by the time I neared the wall, I felt like I'd swum a mile. I also knew that my swim stroke had been ungainly — at best.

A pair of girls swam up to the wall beside me; I noticed one was watching me with a knowing amused look. I tried to ignore her, and paddled up to the wall. As I heaved myself up the hand and footholds, the new girl was doing likewise. I glanced at her, surprised at how easily she seemed to be climbing, while I was struggling with all my might.

"First time?" she asked softly. She wasn't even breathing hard, where I was panting and huffing.

"Uh, yeah." Then I shuddered, thinking from the way she was looking at me that she was really asking a different question. "Well, sort of," I added, blushing.

The girl grinned. "You'll get used to it. It's not really so hard. It just takes a little practice. By the way, I'm Sally."

I looked at her. Did she know? Did everyone in the park know that I was really a 22-year old college guy? Was that why she was watching me with such amusement? Maybe she did, but I decided that maybe I was just being a little paranoid. "Geri," I said, feeling my cheeks burning.

"You know, there are rings at the top. If you make it all the way and get one, you get a free ice cream cone."

I glanced back up, and the top seemed to reach forever above me. "I don't think..." The words were cut off as I screamed, primarily because I lost my handhold and fell back into the pool.

After trying a couple more times on the wall, my arms were tired. I was ashamed at how poorly I was doing, while Anya and the other girls climbed the wall like pros. Finally, Anya suggested we try something else.

The ride was called the Outrigger Canoe ride; two persons rode a raft down the slide. Anya giggled as she climbed on the front of the raft and laughed when I started to protest. With squeals of laughter, we twisted down the course, splashing into the catch pond.

"Can't we get rid of them?" I protested to Anya. Now that we were off the ride, Sally and her friend couldn't hear my complaint.

Anya shrugged. "You were the one who wanted to play today, remember? If they're bothering you, why don't you ask them to leave?"

The trouble, as I could not tell Anya, was that I was enjoying playing with the girls. We were having a lot of fun. But with them tagging along, I couldn't talk much with Anya.

**********

I emerged from the locker room, a little embarrassed at the cute little-girl outfit I was wearing. But I tempered my potential humiliation with the knowledge that there were no men here. At least, not now.

Anya was waiting for me — changed back to her delightful grown-up form. I sighed. There was a down side to these changes. She read my mind. "Someone would think it strange if two twelve-year-olds left here without any adults." I knew she was right, of course.

"Anya, could you find Jenny, please?"

I spun to see an older woman, the source of the insistent but pleasant voice. Grandmother, I knew in an instant.

Anya smiled. "Wait here." She turned to the older woman. "Sure thing. I thought I saw her a couple of minutes ago by the Fairy Castle." "Problems again?"

The old woman frowned. Anya shrugged noncommittally and walked briskly down the path.

"So, Greg, what do you think of my park?"

I smiled. "It's a lot of fun. One of the best parks I've been to."

She smiled. "Nice to hear from a satisfied customer."

I raised an eyebrow. "Not all are, I take it."

It was her turn to be surprised — or at least, to act surprised. "Touche'." She laughed. "Anya was right. You really are something special."

I sensed the warning signs. "Anya told you about me?" Was I on trial here, under her scrutiny? My stomach clenched up and my palms started feeling sweaty.

Grandmother laughed. "Of course. But she's ..." She never finished her thought; Anya and Jenny came around the corner. I was left wondering precisely what Anya had been telling her grandmother.

**********

The girl in the ticket booth frowned. I read her nametag - Marta. I couldn't help wondering if she'd once been a guy, too. "No, I don't think Anya is here today."

I felt like kicking myself. I should have checked first. But I had an unexpected class cancellation — my only Thursday class — and I wanted to take advantage of the time. "Thanks," I muttered as I turned.

"Greg." The voice calling me was familiar. I turned to see grandmother coming toward me. "Anya isn't here today," she said apologetically. "If I'd have known you were coming, I wouldn't have sent her on errands."

"That's okay. I didn't know myself until a half hour ago." An idea sprang into my head. "But if you had some time..."

Grandmother smiled. "You could get some class research done by talking to me about my park, right?"

I smiled. "You know, I'm having a hard time getting used to people reading my mind."

We walked toward her office, and entered from the parking lot side. Inside, it was pleasant, but not luxurious. She offered me a seat. "Want something to drink? Soda?"

"Seven-up," I answered quickly. She retrieved a couple of cans and handed one to me. With surprising grace, she eased herself into her chair.

"Now the one thing you can't report about is my magic," she said lightly.

I grinned. "As if anyone would believe me." I took a sip of soda.

I was amazed at how much time she was devoting to my questions. And I was impressed at how much she knew about the business; she belonged to two trade associations, reviewed the publications, and went to the major trade shows. She knew all her competitors, and could name their rides, their strengths, and their weaknesses. She knew the average daily usage of each and every one of her own rides. In short, she was an incredibly astute businesswoman.

Finally, she threw up her hands. "Look, I can't really answer your questions about the technical stuff. You'd be better off talking to Jenny about that."

I felt the creep of disappointment. Jenny was inside the park, and no men were permitted in.

Grandmother reached into a drawer and pulled out a card. "Just swipe this, then shower as usual. It's a VIP pass. You can find Jenny and talk with her." She grinned. "And if you ask her technical questions like you tried to ask me, she'll be only too happy to talk."

"Uh," I stammered, "is this like a regular pass? Or what?"

Grandmother chuckled. "No, it's not a trick or anything. Same as a one-day pass." She got a wry grin. "If I objected to you seeing Anya, I'd find something a little more creative to take care of things."

Despite the veiled threat, I couldn't help smiling. Grandmother was a no-nonsense kind of woman. "So does this change me like before?"

The old woman started to answer, then raised her eyebrows. "It could — if that's what you wanted." She gazed into my eyes. "But I see that you'd like to try something else, right? Something a bit more — exotic?" A smile crossed her lips. "I'll take care of it."

I managed a thin smile through my reddening cheeks. "Thanks. For your time. And for the pass."

When I came out of the shower, I was amazed. I was shorter — much shorter. Five foot three, at most. Barely one hundred twenty pounds. And a good deal of that weight was concentrated on my chest — in the two D-cup boobs I now sported. I gazed in the mirror. My hair was long, straight, and jet-black. My eyes were the beautiful almond shape normal for Asian women, and my features were delicate and lovely. I felt a surge of excitement at what I'd become. For the rest of the day, anyway, my driver's license proclaimed me as My-Ling Chu.

Anya's grandmother was right; once I got Jenny talking about technical things, she wouldn't stop. I started liking her when she told me, in no uncertain terms, that she'd talk as long as I kept ‘the hell out of my way'. In her own way, she reminded me of Scotty from Star Trek — she considered the machinery of the park her own and was very protective of it. While we talked, Jenny finished rebuilding a pump; I was amazed at how such a seemingly petite girl could work with the immense motors and pumps.

Jenny had definite opinions about the layout of park equipment, especially the pumps, feed pipes, and return pipes. She pointed out a schematic of the Outrigger Canoe ride. "See this?" she asked, as if expecting me to know the answer. "The catch basin is over four hundred feet from the pump. And then the feed pipe has to go all the way back, and up. You know how much pressure this loses with that run? You have any idea how much oversized this pump has to be for this one ride?" She shook her head. "Stupid, brainless morons!"

I could tell she wanted to say even more descriptive things about the original designers, but was restraining herself. "So what should have been done?"

The magical words. To Jenny, up to that point, I'd been a rookie, a know-it-all in training, destined to create problems for maintenance workers. That changed with a simple question. She fetched a large schematic print of the park. "Look here. The rides here are scattered across a couple of acres. It would be better to separate the pumps. Here," she stabbed at the drawing, "here, and here. Each pump set runs two rides, and the pipe runs are shorter."

I noticed something. "Straighter, too."

Jenny's eyes lit up. "You bet. Less friction loss in the pipes, which means less wear on the motor and pump."

I frowned. "But the whole thing is themed. All those pump houses would be distracting."

Jenny scowled and shook her head. "Not if you do it right." She set down the schematic and pointed out the tiny window of the pump house. "Look at that." She was pointing at the mountain. "You know what it is? It's fake, that's what it is!" She scowled. "If you're going to build a damned mountain, then it wouldn't be too tough to put a pump house inside the damned thing, would it?"

My eyes widened. I would never have considered that. "And the up-front cost might be offset by lower operating costs."

Jenny grinned as she wiped a bead of sweat from her brow. "And it'd be a damned sight cooler to work in!" She glanced out the window. "It's almost closing time. You want to go get a burger and talk some more?"

**********

Jenny's idea of a burger joint was more like a night club that served hors d'ouvres for happy hour. I felt a little — okay, a lot — self-conscious, attired as I was in a very short skirt, a low-cut scoop-neck blouse, and short heels. Large ornate jade earrings adorned my ears, gifts no doubt of Grandmother's definition of exotic.

Jenny gulped down the mini-taco and took a sip of beer. "One thing everyone forgets — when you put a pipe in the ground, you may have to dig it up to fix it."

I frowned at her words, while also choking on the hot sauce she'd gotten for the chips. My tongue burned, and it felt like sweat was beading on my forehead. I took a gulp of water. "So what do you do? Utility tunnels?"

Jenny looked as if I'd come from another planet. "Hell no! That's way overkill!" She took another sip of her beer. "You ever deal with conduit?" I shook my head. "Basically, it's a tube to run wires in. The wires are insulated, but the conduit protects them. And it gives you easy access to repair damage."

I felt my forehead wrinkling as I struggled to understand. "So what you're saying, is you put a pipe inside a pipe?" It wasn't completely making sense to me, but then again, I wasn't really too technical minded. "But then, the pipes would have to be straight, or you couldn't fix anything. And ..." The light bulb went on. I understood.

Jenny sat back and smiled as she took another sip. "We had a little problem a while back. One of the main feed pipes broke. You know what that mountain is made of? Dirt! You know what happens when you put a few thousand gallons of water on a dirt pile? You get mud. Lots and lots of mud." Jenny's expression was one of disgust. "It was bad enough having to dig up the pipe, but then a couple of sidewalks and paths on the hill started sliding and caving in." She shook her head. "It would have been bad enough, but the way the park is ..." I knew what she meant; I also could tell that she really hadn't enjoyed that mess. "It was trouble getting workmen to do the heavy stuff. We had a few rides out of action for almost a month."

I decided it was time to change the subject. "You're know a lot about this. Where did you learn it all?"

Jenny laughed. "I grew up on a farm, then I spent a couple of tours in ‘Nam, bobbing around the South China Sea on a flat-top."

I felt my head spin. "Viet Nam? But that was ..." Things weren't making sense. "... almost 30 years ago." I frowned. "And a flat-top is a carrier, isn't it? But the Navy is ..." My mouth dropped open as my eyes widened. Jenny watched my reaction, and smiled at my bewilderment. "You were...?"

Jenny put her finger over her lips. "Hush!" she whispered sharply.

"Geez, how many people at that park are changed?" I took a sip of my soda. "Why?" I finally asked, puzzled. "Are you ... gay or something?"

Jenny shrugged. "No, nothing like that. I was old, single, and couldn't hold down a job — mostly because I didn't have a degree. The park gave me back thirty years of life, and a good job."

"But ..." I couldn't help stammering, "what about guys?"

Jenny laughed. "Not interested. Not yet, anyway. It just doesn't feel right." Her eyes twinkled. "Don't get me wrong. I like being around guys. Most girls don't give a damn about football. Most girls aren't too technical. And," she leaned closer, whispering, "in this package, it's easy to get guys to do just about anything. Buying drinks, for example. You know how many guys will trip all over themselves just to stare down your cleavage?" She knew my next question. "And I'm not sure if I'm interested in girls or not." She drained the last of her beer. "So what about you? Why did you change?"

I felt my jaw dropping, as if in slow motion. "How did you ...?" It was obvious; she'd been there, so she could tell by my reactions. "I'm learning about recreational architecture at college. Anya — we go way back, by the way — invited me to the park once. I had to do a project, so I decided to learn more about the park — you know, the architecture, the layout, the rides, the ‘behind-the-scenes' stuff. And you know what it takes to get behind the scenes."

Jenny nodded her understanding. Then she grinned wickedly at me. "But I think you could have done that without the ..." she cupped her own bosoms.

I felt my cheeks burning. She'd caught me, fair and square.

"Are you curious, or are you really, really curious?"

I shook my head violently. "No way!" My denial was too quick, and it caused Jenny to laugh. "It's getting late," I said hastily, looking for an excuse to leave before she guessed more of my inner secrets.

Jenny lurched to her feet, and I realized she was drunk. I took her arm and helped guide her out of the bar. With some effort, I eased her into the passenger seat of my car, and then climbed behind the wheel. "Good thing I drove," I said. "Where do you live?"

Jenny smiled. "In the condo by the park." She was quiet during our drive back to the condos, but every once in a while, I saw her staring at me with a curious smile.

I pulled up to the curb by the main entrance. "Thanks for everything."

Jenny smiled, and then her hand slid onto my knee. "My pleasure," she stammered. "You're fun to be with."

A tiny surprised gasp escaped my lips. I felt a surge of conflicting emotions — fear, shock, surprise, and most damning, curiosity. A warmth began to spread in my crotch, an arousal that betrayed my intrigue with her suggestion. "But..."

Jenny's free hand reached up to cup and caress my boob. A tingle of excitement instantly radiated outward from the oh-so-sensitive nipple, merging within my belly with the fire from below.

I fought the impulse to close my eyes and enjoy the sensations. "Jenny, please don't," I pleaded half-heartedly. I was afraid of what she was doing, and of the feelings it was causing within me. I knew that if I didn't stop her quickly, I'd give in to temptation - and that would hurt Anya. I forced myself to remove her hand from my breast — which took far more willpower than it should have.

Jenny sat back and looked at me, her soft eyes so inviting and her lips tantalizingly kissable. She fumbled around and opened the door and pulled herself out of the car. As she shut the door behind her, she leaned in the window. "You may never get another chance," she teased.

I swallowed hard. To say that I was tempted was an understatement if ever there was one. "Jenny, you're drunk, and it would be taking advantage of you."

She lurched toward the door, then turned and blew me a kiss. I waited until she was safely inside, then I drove home. All the way home, and for the longest time as I lay in bed, I wondered. Why had I been so attracted to Jenny? Why had I found her so sexy, and her offer so appealing? And why did her touch get me so hot? Just thinking about her touch continued to make me feel excited. After a long time of tossing and turning, fighting the feel of my big boobs bouncing and swaying and getting in the way of lying comfortably, I went into the bathroom to relieve my frustration.

**********

Anya bounced out of the condo building, her face shining with a huge smile and her ponytail bobbing with each happy step. She looked great, and I couldn't help smiling. Her short white shorts gave maximum exposure to her long shapely tanned legs. A light blue knit short-sleeve shirt didn't expose any cleavage, but clung tightly to her, outlining every one of her delightful curves. Anya didn't need any jewelry, and if she was wearing any makeup, I couldn't tell. Anya yanked open the door and slid into the passenger seat, then flinched. Her shorts left some skin exposed, and my seat was uncomfortably warm. "Couldn't you have turned on the AC?" she complained.

I smiled sheepishly. "Sorry."

Anya smiled coyly. "Maybe I need to get you a week pass, so you can learn about these things. It might make you a bit less forgetful."

"You want to go to the park?" I asked, ignoring the tease in her comment.

Anya's features clouded. "I work there all the time, remember?" She sounded confused, concerned, and upset, all at once. "And I thought you liked us like this."

I forced a laugh. "It's just a neat park. And with my studies, it's great to have such an outstanding park nearby. It gives me a chance to compare the lectures with real life." Anya's features were still clouded, and I wondered if she were trying to read my mind. "Besides, your grandmother is a very interesting lady."

Anya didn't seem convinced, but she did sit back. "How about taking in a movie?"

"You heard about that Sci-fi parody? Galaxy Quest?" I asked, sounding more enthusiastic.

Anya grinned. "Jenny said it was great. Sounds like a plan to me." She glanced at me. "Dinner after the movie?"

"Mexican?"

Anya smiled. "Mi Casa?"

I nodded. "Sounds good. And then dancing?"

**********

I was grateful we had a booth at the restaurant. It was noisy, the decorations ranged from bold to garish, and the background music was a loud live mariachi band. But we both knew the food was great, and the booth gave us a modicum of privacy.

"But if they don't want to change..." Something Anya had said earlier in the day had been haunting me, and I had to press for an answer.

Anya shook her head insistently. "Sometimes, people get what they don't exactly want. That doesn't mean it isn't in their best interest."

"But that's forcing them. There's no choice." I shook my head. "It sounds so ... dark, so sinister." I shuddered.

Anya's features grew grim, expressionless. "Look, sometimes it's necessary to force the best outcome."

"But that fraternity..."

Anya sighed. "It all worked out for the best. They got what they wanted - in spades."

"They didn't want to be women," I interjected.

Anya didn't miss a beat. "They wanted a spring break full of sex, and they got it. What's more, there was a greater good served. First, they didn't remember being girls, only having a great spring break. Second, while they were changed, grandmother's spell protected them from STDs; without the spell, they might have contracted something very, very serious." She was counting off the points on her fingers. "Third, while they were enjoying their sex, they were reducing the numbers of guys who were trying to prey on innocent girls." She reached for a nacho chip. "Everyone won."

I shook my head. "Maybe it's clear to you, but not to me." I felt a frown creep across my features. "The other day, I heard a girl complaining that her wife was making her stay a little girl." I scowled. "That doesn't sound like a win-win situation to me."

Anya shook her head. "Remember the other day, when we were playing as girls? Remember Sally, the girl who was climbing with you, and her friend?" Anya was trembling; from what, I couldn't tell. "Sally used to be a man. Her mother forced her to change into a little girl, with a permanent membership. You see, she ran over a little girl." I felt my eyes go wide. "There's more. Her friend Shayne, that we were playing with - that was the little girl she'd run over." I felt a chill run down my spine. Anya nodded. "That's right. Without that 'forced' change, his life was over; vehicular manslaughter would have put him in prison for at least ten years. And Shayne wouldn't be here."

I had to swallow - hard. This one was a shocker. "But how does she feel about it?"

Anya smiled. "When she realized how much of an SOB she'd been as a man, she asked Grandmother to take away all her memories of her male past. She remembers the man she used to be as her father, who died several years ago. She wanted to just be Sally, a good kid with a good life. "

I shivered inwardly yet again. Anya's explanation was quite clear, and everyone seemed to be happy, if Sally truly did enjoy being a girl. But the magnitude of the change scared me.

**********

We met Jenny and Liz at the Coconut Club; it was a pretty decent night club, and the music was marginally danceable — at least for a klutz like me. Jenny was a little cool toward me; I think she remembered more about making a pass at me than she'd have liked to. After a while, Anya and Liz ducked into the ladies room, which left me alone with Jenny.

"Uh, just so you know, I didn't say anything to Anya," I finally said, breaking the awkward silence.

Jenny smiled. "Thanks. She's a good friend, and I'd hate to spoil it."

I grinned. "I know what you mean." I sipped my soda. "I know you were a bit smashed, and things sometimes happen." She gave me an appreciative smile. "But if it means anything to you, I was very flattered - and tempted."

Jenny's eyes widened a bit, then she laughed. "Thanks. For not doing anything. And for the compliment."

Liz and Anya slid back into their chairs. "Miss anything?" Anya said as she squeezed my arm.

I shrugged. "Not unless you like technical talk."

Anya got a warning look in her eyes. "Jenny, don't start!" Jenny laughed; it was obviously their inside joke.

Anya made me dance with her. And with Jenny, and Liz. The three were clearly very close, and Anya didn't feel threatened by either girl. That made it a lot easier for me. But Anya also persuaded Liz to tell me her story. To say the least, I was stunned. But slowly, I was beginning to understand.

**********

I decided to splurge on breakfast, despite Anya's habits. I scrambled up some eggs, and then cooked a stack of pancakes. By the time Anya finished getting ready for work, breakfast was ready. She gave me a tiny glare, but she dug in.

After she finished her pancakes, she leaned back. "If you can cook everything like that, I might be tempted to keep you around."

"I'll have to practice some more, then."

She slurped down her coffee and glanced at her watch. "Got to run," she apologized. "I'm supposed to open the booth in a few minutes."

I smiled. "Good thing you live so close." I began to clean up the dishes. "I can finish up here. That is, if you don't mind me letting myself out."

Anya shook her head. "I'll help. I wouldn't want you falling into the hands of Ronnie, you see."

"Any chance I could tag along today?" I asked, trying not to sound too hopeful.

Anya seemed surprised, but then she nodded. "At least that way I'll know you're behaving." She put the last of the dishes in the dishwasher, bending over to give me a nice view of her curves. "More research?" she asked.

I smiled. "With what I've turned in so far, I'm getting that B pulled up. I'm hoping I can squeak out an A."

**********

"And whatever I'm thinking of..."

Anya smiled, holding out a VIP pass. "Is what you'll turn into." She pulled it back slightly as I reached for it. "You have to be careful, okay? I put a limit on it, so you can't change age. Not much, anyway. Maybe a year or two either way, but not enough to get in trouble."

I nodded. "Okay, I'll be careful. Promise." I took the card. "I'll see you when you get off, okay?"

I followed Anya's instructions precisely. Before I swiped the card, I formed a mental image of the type of girl I'd like to be for the day. Moderately tall, athletic build, breasts a bit bigger than average, long wavy red hair. A quick swipe, a shower, and I was the image my mind had conjured up.

I had planned on spending the day with Jenny, but she was out of the park getting some parts. Instead, I spent the morning floating around Old Man River, and then spent some time playing volleyball in a pickup game. Just before lunch, a lifeguard flagged me down. Puzzled, I went to the office, as the lifeguard had directed.

The old woman was sitting in her chair, looking through a trade journal. She barely acknowledged my entrance. Nervous, I stood.

"Oh, sit down, for crying out loud," she finally said in an exasperated tone. "It's not like you're in trouble, you know!"

After I sat, she waved the journal my way. "You read this?"

I recognized it — one of the main trade journals for the water park industry. "Sometimes," I admitted. "Not as much as I'd like to."

She tossed it unceremoniously on her desk. "Well, don't waste too much time. Most of it is crap." My eyes widened at her candor. "Mostly advertising, and not very good advertising at that."

"You wanted to talk about trade journals?" I asked tentatively.

The old woman laughed. "Direct. I like that." She shook her head. "No, I just noticed that you've been dating Anya a lot for the past month or so. And you've been spending a lot of time in the park." The words had no judgement, no accusations — just statement of fact.

I started feeling a bit nervous. "I like Anya a lot," I explained, "and the park. It's helping me with a class project."

The old woman smiled. "Yes, I know. And if that inexperienced, bumbling fool of a professor you have has any sense, you'll get that A." I didn't know what to say, so I sat quietly. She continued. "You want to do some professional work?"

I wondered if I'd heard her correctly. "Professional?"

She smiled. "You've heard that I'm thinking of expanding, haven't you? Well, if you're game, I can pull some strings and get you some senior-level independent study credit for helping me with the expansion plan."

My jaw was on the floor - or at least resting on my cleavage. "You want me ... to help design?" I felt my heart skip. This was an opportunity that few ever got. "Why me? There have got to be lots of professional firms that..."

"That's a little problem." She frowned. "If I hired a regular firm, I'd have to deal with the architects and consultants changing to work in the park," she explained.

"But ... " I was confused. "Anya said you can ... uh ... alter memories, so they wouldn't remember the change."

The old woman shook her head sadly. "Memory alteration kind of blurs some of the details. That's okay for casual customers; it'd be a disaster for trying to plan an expansion."

I bit my lip. "I see." The prospect of doing some professional work was intoxicating.

"I take it that's a yes?" she said with certainty. "You have a little advantage here — most workers have to change to work, but since this is design, you won't have to be in the park much." She smiled. "Anya will like that part, I think."

"Can I ask a question?" She nodded. "Why don't you just use some magic and conjure up the expansion?"

The old woman laughed. "I see you don't know much about magic." She shook her head, still smiling. "It doesn't work that way. First, everyone would notice that a park suddenly appeared, or changed. Something like this park is too big to do with finesse. Secondly, and more importantly, you can't just conjure something up if you don't understand it. And I know squat about machinery and stuff."

I nodded my understanding. "No magic?"

She laughed more. "Not to make the park. Lots of sweat, hard work, and money. Especially money. A wee bit of magic, though," she held her fingers a fraction of an inch apart, "to help the trees and shrubs grow. You know how much it costs to landscape with mature trees and plants?" She rose abruptly and crossed to they small refrigerator nearly hidden in one corner. "Let's see, you like 7-up, right?" She pulled out a couple of cans and handed one to me, then flopped back into her chair. Her can whooshed as she pulled the tab, then she sipped the cola.

"How much magic do you use — day-to-day — to run the park?" I asked, curious about the business end. "Not counting the changes."

"Just about none," she answered with a straight face. "Look, running a park like this is hard work. If you've got a good park, and a good gimmick, you get business. If you don't, you don't. It's that simple."

I was slowly coming to realize that this old woman was an extremely savvy businesswoman. "The ‘women only' part is your gimmick," I guessed.

She smiled. "Pretty sharp! It's unique. And it has a big market potential. But that's not all. The park itself has to be a fun place, which is where the work comes in." She leaned forward in her chair, toward me. "I need to add on - to add some new rides, and to expand my capacity. So what do you think? Do you want to take on the project?"

"You bet," I nodded eagerly.

"Okay, here are the terms. I know what a professional architect would charge. I'll pay you a fourth of that in base fee, plus another forty percent if I like the design. Sound okay to you?"

"Seems more than fair," I agreed, "since I'm still a student."

She smiled. "Okay, as of now, you work for me." She reached into her desk and pulled out a card. She extended it across the desk toward me. It looked like the VIP pass I'd used, but a little different. "There are going to be times you need to get into the park — surveys, traffic patterns, layout ideas, and so on. Use this pass. It'll give you the same effects as a day pass, so your changes won't be permanent." Her expression changed. "You have to be careful. Don't use this too often. You shouldn't have to. Not more than once a week. If you need to meet with me, you can use the parking-lot door. It'll save you the trouble of changing."

I nodded my understanding. "Okay." I bit my lip as a sudden thought hit me. "So ... what will I look like when I change?"

She cocked her head slightly, as if my question was peculiar. "It works the same as the pass you're using today. You imagine what you want to be, and that's what you'll look like."

I smiled, but didn't budge. "Uh ... can I ask you something about Anya?"

Her face went neutral; clearly, she was concerned that I would have to talk to her about her granddaughter. "It won't hurt to ask. I'm not sure if I can give an answer, though."

"How young was she when her dad left?"

The old woman blanched. I'd seem fear and surprise before; I was staring at it again. She took a very slow breath. "He left when she was a baby. She never knew him."

"Is that why she was a bit of a tomboy?" I asked cautiously, changing the subject. I knew she'd lied to me; there was more. Much more. And I could also tell that she was terrified of telling me.

**********

I heard the door lock click, and I pulled the door open. The cool breeze washed over me as I stepped into the office.

The old woman didn't bother to look my way. "Have a seat. I'll be with you after I finish." She was doing something on her computer; a quick glance made me think she was checking her daily receipts. She sighed, then clicked her mouse and closed the program. "Okay," she said as she spun in her chair, "what's up?"

I plopped a folder on the desk. "I've got a couple of ideas, and I wanted to talk with you about them." She nodded. I opened a sketch of her layout, including the surrounding property, then pushed it across the desk toward her. She took the map while I circled the desk, so we could both refer to the map. "You've got a little problem here," I said. Direct and to the point.

She frowned. "I'm not sure I follow."

I pulled out a transparency and laid it over the map. On it, I'd sketched the existing layout. "The problem is, your gate is here," I said, marking on the transparency, "while the extra land for expansion is here." The two marks were at opposite ends of her 90 acre tract of land.

I felt her frown as much as I saw it. "That's one of my big problems," she admitted. She looked up, and her frown grew. She saw me smiling. "Okay, so you look like the cat that ate the canary. Spit it out."

"Ronnie Harris' condos are here, right?" The building was adjacent to her unused land. Right beside where the expansion would go.

"And?" I needed to hurry; she wouldn't wait all day for me to get to the main point.

"Ideally, everything in a park is equidistant from the gate. Look at Disney."

She glared at me. "No thanks."

I flinched. For some reason, she didn't quite like the Mouse. "Okay, but the concept is the same. An ideal situation would be, since the gate is here," I pointed to the map, "your best place for expansion would be along here." I drew a box, abutting her property and very close to the gate. "The park is now kind of V-shaped, and it's got better potential for expansion."

"I don't own that land," she retorted quickly.

"Ronnie Harris does," I answered, just as quickly. "From her perspective, it would probably better to expand her existing condo property, so she doesn't have to duplicate some amenities. And if I understand correctly, her condos are very hot property."

She stared at me, and then a smile started forming. Slowly, it spread until it was a broad grin. "And I could probably talk her into some pretty good terms for swapping the property."

"It really makes expansion easier. Crowd flow is a lot more natural." I was on a roll, and didn't know when to stop. I'd missed the fact that she was already convinced.

She held up her hands. "You made the sale. Stop already." She glanced at the thick folder I had. "So, I don't suppose you've got any concept layouts or sketches with this property swap, do you?" I grinned and started pulling sheets from the folder, eager to show her. "Whoa," she cautioned. "It's getting late, and it's also near the end of the month. You're going to have to leave that here for me to look at. I've got a lot of end-of-the-month reports. Payroll, taxes, and all those things."

I reined in my enthusiasm. "Okay. I figured you'd want to keep them to look at, so I made copies." I replaced the drawings in the folder and slid it to a relatively unoccupied corner of her desk. "When does Anya get back — from the trade show?"

The old woman was already turning back to her computer. "Sunday afternoon. I think she's expecting you to pick her up at the airport."

"Yeah, and I better not forget, either!" I smiled. "I'm going to have a chat with Jenny about the utilities if we go the new direction." I let myself out into the parking lot. Once before, I'd tried to exit into the park, only to get bounced — and with quite a shock. I was informed — after the fact — that there were magic wards on the door, to keep men out of the park.

I stopped shy of the gate, thinking of what I wanted to change into. In seconds, I had an image sharply defined. I swiped the card and entered the showers. A few moments later, an attractive well-endowed Hispanic girl sauntered into the park area.

Jenny was surprised by my appearance, but seemed quite eager to talk about the expansion. However, it was getting late, and she didn't want to work overtime. We went out for burgers and beer again, but this time, Liz joined us. I think Jenny felt safer that way. We talked at length about the expansion; Liz added some rather unique perspectives on requirements for lifeguards.

Sleep didn't come easily; I was finding that any time I changed, I had a hard time drifting to sleep. Eventually, I gave up on trying to sleep. I turned on the TV, and found absolutely nothing worth watching. Angrily, I clicked the remote, silencing the offensive thing. I sat, wondering. Why had I gone into the park? I could have waited an hour or less, and met Jenny, without having to change. Maybe it was because I didn't want to take a chance with Jenny. Not as a man. Yeah, that must have been it. I didn't want to cheat on Anya.

So if that were true, why was I feeling so disappointed that Jenny didn't make a pass at me? And why was it that thinking of her was getting me quite aroused? It wasn't until much later, after working off a lot of sexual tension, that I finally fell asleep.

**********

I glanced at the picture one last time, to make sure that the image was imprinted on my mind, and slid it under the seat. I walked quickly across the asphalt, looking down so as not to be distracted by the girls going to the park. I wanted to keep the image as pure as possible. I reached the gate, then paused, closing my eyes and recalling the picture. Dakota Kelly. Blonde hair, nice figure, warm friendly smile, and big knockers. She was a stripper I'd picked out of a 'Big Bust' computer disk, a CD-ROM full of images and movie clips of busty strippers.

I swiped the card and headed into the men's locker. A quick shower, and I started changing. For some reason, the changes were accompanied by some muscle cramping, but it wasn't too bad. I ignored the minor discomfort, and was soon standing, bare-breasted, in a magnificent specimen of a body.

Instead of going into the park, I quickly dressed and walked back to my car. I drove to the mall, and engaged in some shopping. Well, that's a bit of a stretch. True, I'd been a bit curious about how women shop, especially for lingerie. But that curiosity didn't explain how I was acting. I bought — actually bought — some very sexy lingerie and changed into it before leaving the store. The lacy bra really did a number enhancing my cleavage, and the blouse I wore really put it on display. My shorts were doing their best to show every possible millimeter of my legs, and without knowing it, I was strutting around the mall, subconsciously putting this sexy body on display. Inside, I felt some turmoil and conflict; on one hand, it felt really good to get the kind of attention I was getting. On the other, I knew I shouldn't be doing it. Still, I couldn't stop myself.

Since it was Wednesday, I went to the Coconut Club around six. Happy hour meant free munchies for the ladies — of which, I was currently one. This was the fifth week in a row that I met Liz and Jenny after they got off work. We were starting to be regulars at the Coconut Club.

I got there first, and was sipping a soda while I snacked on some nacho chips. I saw Liz and Jenny walk through the door. I stood and waved my hand at them.

Jenny spotted me waving, and she said something to Liz. The two came to the table and sat down. Jenny's eyes were wide as she looked at me. "Good grief, girl!" she exclaimed. "Look at you!" Liz was also staring.

I frowned. "What? What's wrong with how I look?" I was wearing a new outfit that I'd bought — a very short and daring skirt and a short-sleeved knit top with a very low scoop neck. On my feet, I had new shoes with three-inch heels. A single pearl hung on a fine gold chain just above my well-displayed cleavage. Matching pearl studs adorned my ears, although they were partially hidden by my long wavy sandy-blond hair. Since I'd changed into a body with pierced ears, and since I had been getting all dolled up to go out, it had just seemed natural to get the earrings.

Liz frowned. "Are you wearing makeup?"

I blushed, while also smiling. The girl at the makeup counter in the department store had done a very nice job, I thought. It looked ... sexy. "I wanted to try it out," I defended myself.

Jenny frowned. "I think you overdid it," she commented. "I thought Anya was coming with you."

I shook my head. "She's working on the books. Quarterly taxes, I think. She said she'd be by later." I glanced toward the floor, and found myself swaying a little with the music.

It didn't take too long before I was out on the floor. I wanted to dance, as if I felt a compulsion to put this body on display. At first, I was nervous about moving in the heels, but they seemed so natural, I had no problem. I probably spent more time dancing than I did talking with Liz and Jenny.

About ten, Anya still hadn't shown up. Liz begged off, but Jenny stayed. I got the feeling that she felt she had to protect me until Anya arrived. Then, just after Liz left, the DJ announced a wet T-shirt contest. It was something that the club did every couple of weeks.

I felt a tingle through my body. "Let's enter," I whispered insistently to Jenny. For only the briefest of moments, I wondered where the thought had come from.

Her mouth dropped open in shock, then she glared at me. "Are you crazy?"

"No," I insisted. "Come on, it'll be fun!" She appeared unconvinced. "Look, you were the one who told me how much fun it was to tease guys," I argued.

Jenny wasn't swayed. "You go on, if you want. I'm not."

I frowned, then stood and marched across the floor. Some girls were already gathering. As I passed one table, some guy pinched my butt, and I flinched. Strangely, though, I felt an excitement that I'd not felt before. When I glanced at the other girls, I felt compelled to thrust my chest out, displaying my curves even more. This also caused my rear to push back a little, which amplified the apparent curves of my butt.

We went in a back room to change into T-shirts; my nipples were already erect as I removed my bra. While a part of me wondered just what the hell I was doing, another part was eager to try this new experience.

Back on the dance floor, all the girls lined up. One by one, we were sprayed with water. I flinched involuntarily as the cold water hit me. My nipples, big and brown and already erect, felt like they wanted to tear through the wet fabric. I glanced down, and saw just how transparent the white material had become; my boobs were visible to everyone. A shiver of delight coursed through my body as I heard the guys hooting and cheering. I felt my crotch getting warm as tingling spread throughout my body; this was really turning me on. I started swaying and shaking, making by boobs bounce and jiggle for the crowd; the guys were loving it, and listening to them cheering and hooting was making me all hot.

When all was said and done, I'd won. I stood, smiling, blushing, feeling hot, feeling proud, and I accepted the prizes: dinner for two at a new Italian restaurant, and fifty dollars cash. I took the prizes, and then wiggled my body, causing my boobs to bounce and sway a bit more for the appreciative crowd.

I glanced around the crowd, wondering if Jenny was still here. My face fell; Anya was sitting with Jenny, and she was staring at me. Her expression was impossible to read, but I guessed that she wasn't too happy.

With the other girls, I went into the back room to change. And even as we stripped off the wet shirts, a well-dressed gentleman came into the room. He smiled, and introduced himself as Steve Larson, the owner of the Ocean Cabaret. He passed out business cards, telling us all that they had amateur night every Friday, and that we should consider entering. The prize money was pretty good, he claimed. As he came by me, he smiled and said especially me.

I walked back to the table, and sat down. Anya stared impassively at me for a very long time, and I started to feel self-conscious. "Are you having a good time?" she asked. Her tone was carefully neutral.

I nodded. "It's been an interesting evening," I said cautiously. I lowered my voice. "How many guys get a chance to enter a wet T-shirt contest?"

"Let alone win?" Anya added.

From her tone, I could tell she was very unhappy. "Anya, can we go outside and talk?" I asked.

She nodded. "I was about to ask you the same thing." We took our purses and went out. It was a warm evening; still, from having had my chest wet, I shivered. Finally, Anya spoke. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" she demanded.

I swallowed. "I'm not sure," I said meekly. "I enjoy going out with Liz and Jenny. It's kind of fun to do girls' night out."

Anya nodded, still not smiling. "And ... those?" she gestured at my large boobs.

I glanced down, and tried to joke. "Jenny said it was fun to tease guys, and I wanted to see for myself."

The apology didn't work. Anya remained unhappy. "And I suppose that goes for the contest, too," she said acidly.

I looked down, feeling my cheeks burn. "I don't know what came over me," I finally said. "It just ... seemed like the thing to do."

Anya shook her head. "You've been changing a lot lately, haven't you?"

I glanced up, startled. "No, I haven't," I protested weakly. "Just once in a while so I can work on the plans." It was a lie; I knew it, and Anya knew it. I'd been changing a lot lately.

Anya continued to stare at me, her lips pursed tightly together, her eyes narrowed. After many long seconds, her eyes softened. "I guess I can understand that you're curious."

I sensed her resolve weakening. "And I really like the time we spend together," I added, "when I'm a guy."

Anya melted. Before she could say anything, I wrapped her up in my arms. The feeling of her breasts pressing against mine sent tiny shivers of pleasure coursing up my spine, a purely sexual feeling that I wanted to keep going.

As we walked to our cars, I wondered if Anya suspected what else I'd bought. And I wondered if I'd have the nerve, once I got home, to actually use it.

**********

Friday, afternoon classes were canceled. I bundled up my latest drawings and went to the park. I walked up to the ticket booth. Marta instantly recognized me. "Hi, Greg. Anya is lifeguarding today."

I smiled; Marta was a pleasant girl, and rather attractive. "Thanks. I really need to talk to her grandmother." I walked to the office and punched in the access code. The lock clicked and I walked in.

The old woman was hunched over her computer; she and Anya had been working on the books for nearly two weeks. "Have a seat. I'll be right with you." She didn't even look up. "On second thought, how about you get me a root beer, and whatever you want? You know where the fridge is."

I smiled; the way she treated me made me feel accepted - like one of the family. I set my folder on her desk and retrieved the sodas, opening her can and setting it on a coaster on her desk. I popped my soda open and took a long cool sip as I eased into a comfortable chair.

When she finished with the computer, the old woman turned to me. "So, what have you got?"

I opened the folder and took out a folded-up drawing. I stood, so I could see across the desk, and spread the paper out. "I'm still working on the theme ideas, but here's the general layout." I pointed to the expansion.

She frowned. "I'm going to lose over ten acres of parking."

I nodded. "More like sixteen of your original lot. But we get about thirty acres here," I pointed to the map, "to give the extra capacity."

The old woman studied the drawing for a long time. "That's a long walk to the gate," she finally said.

"Unless you start a tram."

The old woman studied the parking area for a long time. "Kind of expensive, isn't it?"

I shook my head. I'd done my homework on this one. "With the new capacity, you're well over the limit for making the tram worth the investment."

She looked up; I was smiling. I saw a grudging respect in her eyes. "Okay, we'll think about it. What else?" She moved her gaze to the expansion area.

I took a quick sip of soda. "I'm thinking of anchoring the area with a water coaster." I saw her eyebrows rise. "There aren't any in the area, and they are pretty cost-effective at drawing crowds."

She nodded. "A few slides, a pool, and a play area." Then another frown wrinkled her brow. "You've left all this area open."

I nodded slowly. "To add the capacity you want, I only needed to use about half the land. The rest is available for future expansion."

She glanced up again, a smile creeping over her face. "What if I told you that I could sell three times the memberships that I've currently sold? That I could triple my attendance in a matter of months? What would that do to the plans?"

I gulped. "I guess I'd develop both sections at once." I glanced at the huge open plot on the drawing. "But that's going to be pretty steep."

The old woman nodded, a smug grin on her face. "How about if you give me an option for doing both at once? Different themes, of course." She glanced back at the drawing, then stared at the South Seas area. "What's this?" She pointed at a new feature on the drawing.

I winced. I'd taken a chance on a couple of items, and she'd found them before I could present my ideas. Now, I felt like I was on the defensive. "Uh, I took a look at the way the plot is being used, and there's more than enough room to add a few more attractions. I thought we might add a new family raft ride and a couple new body slides from the volcano. I thought a swimming lagoon under a waterfall would be very attractive." I pointed sheepishly to the Wild River area. "I put in an extra couple of rides over here, too."

The old woman looked up at me, and I felt an urge to hide. She had an unreadable expression on her face; I couldn't tell if she was angry or not. "So you decided to enhance the existing park, too?"

I cringed. "There's more than enough space, and it gives more capacity in your existing plot." I gulped again. "I thought it would help you enhance your revenues in the existing park footprint."

Slowly, a smile crept onto her face. I realized I'd been holding my breath, waiting for her explosion of disapproval. "Pretty bold," she said, "and a pretty good idea." She cocked her head as a question came to her. "Can you build a model?"

I started to chuckle; I was way ahead of her on this one. "I've been working on a 3-D computer model. A virtual model that will let you do walk-throughs, fly-overs, and such." I saw her eyebrows rise — she was impressed. "It's going to take a bit to finish it," I added, making sure she didn't expect too much too soon.

Anya's grandmother nodded. There was a faint touch of disappointment on her features; I'm sure she wanted to see the model ASAP. "Let me look at what you've got on the drawings." Then her forehead wrinkled. "Any ideas on themes yet?"

I pulled a drawing out of the folder and passed it to her. "I was thinking of ancient Rome for one area," I said hesitantly.

She studied the drawing carefully; it was a sketch of an elaborate pool, with a Roman temple rising from its midst. Statues and well-manicured shrubs lined the pool area. "And the rides?"

I plowed on, confidently. "I thought I'd use elements of Roman mythology."

She nodded appreciatively. "You could borrow from all of the Mediterranean culture — like the ancient wonders of the world? Hmm..." Her mind raced, sorting and sifting ideas. "Might work. And the second area?"

Now I was on shaky ground; I was going to have to wing it. The idea of developing the second section was, until a few moments ago, something in the future. I really didn't have a good handle on that. "The two thoughts that pop into my head are the wild west and pirates."

The old woman frowned. "Pirates for a child's play area might work. But the wild west — that's a bit too macho for the ladies, don't you think?" She turned back to the sketches. "Let's think about the second theme some more."

I put the drawings back into the folder — except for the one she was studying. I started to walk to the door into the park, but remembered at the last moment the wards. Embarrassed, I went out the parking-lot door. I debated about going in the park; I knew Anya was inside, and I wanted to see her. At the same time, I was really becoming convinced that she disliked my changes. She hadn't said as much, but after the wet T-shirt contest, she hadn't spoken to me for four days. I stood by the turnstile, torn. I wanted to go in. I felt such a strong urge to go in, to change and spend the day playing. At the same time, thoughts of Anya held me rooted in place.

"Hey, Greg!" It was Anya's voice, calling to me. I looked around, and spotted her by the gift shop. She waved, and started toward me. "Aren't you coming in?" she asked when she was closer.

I felt a tremble of excitement, which I suppressed. She was inviting me back in — and I could change if I went in. "Nah," I said, lying. "I had a meeting with your grandmother, and since you're working, there's not much point."

Anya looked puzzled for the briefest of moments. "I've got a break for a while. Why don't we go play some?"

I couldn't help smiling as I contemplated what I would change into. This morning, perusing the image files, I'd become enchanted with Traci Topps and Pandora Peaks. Both were very large-breasted strippers, and the thought of discovering the feel of extra-large boobs on my chest had me excited all morning — much more so than I could admit to myself. Mentally, I constructed a composite image of an ‘ideal' body, based on parts from those two and a couple of other girls - the best of each. "That sounds like fun," I said, trying desperately not to sound to excited.

Anya smiled, then a warning frown appeared. "Just plain you. Nothing exotic. Okay?" She stared at me, her frown deepening. "Okay?"

I nodded. "Okay," I answered. My enthusiasm was nearly gone, squashed by her insistence that I behave. I'd been secretly fantasizing about big bouncy boobs and a knockout figure; I was going to be just a plain girl for the afternoon. I swiped the card and walked into the locker room.

Because of my frequent visits, the park had set aside a locker where I could keep a few things; I quickly changed into my swimsuit, knowing it was going to be a bikini posthaste. I flipped the shower handle and stepped into the warm spray.

A faint cry of pain escaped my lips before I could clench my teeth. The showers should have been tingly and invigorating; instead, it felt like every muscle was being stretched and pulled. Maybe, I thought, the transformation magic has some pain associated with it, and to mask the pain, grandmother mixed in something else — some kind of relaxer — that I was getting a resistance to. That would explain why it had been getting less and less pleasant when I changed; the explanation I concocted sounded as plausible to me as anything else.

I walked stiffly out of the locker room, having first put on my bikini top. Anya was waiting for me; as I hobbled toward her, she frowned. "Something wrong?"

I shook my head. "Just a muscle cramp," I answered, trying to be nonchalant. "I'll walk it out."

Walking it out took half an hour. The way Anya was watching me, I was sure she suspected it wasn't just a simple muscle cramp. Soon, however, I was moving easily, and we began to play — racing down the slides, splashing each other in the pools, playing volleyball. It was a good afternoon.

Unfortunately, it ended all too soon. As we floated along the Ol Man River, Anya's grandmother came looking for her. The CPA was on her way to the park to review the books for taxes. It was going to be a long night for her. She asked if I wanted to meet her after she got off; I shook my head and said I probably wouldn't go out.

As soon as she left, I climbed out of the tube and walked back to the locker. I changed into my street clothes and started across the parking lot. Something, however, made me stop. I couldn't get the composite image out of my mind, my ideal girl made up of parts of several strippers. I found my pace slowing, and then reversing as I began to walk back toward the gate. Without thinking, I swiped the card and walked to the men's locker room.

Somehow, I knew that what I was about to try wouldn't work, that the magic would transform only men into women. Still, a part of me was hoping that it would transform me into the image I had.

There was no pink mist, there was no tingling spray. It was just a shower, and I emerged unchanged. Maybe, I suddenly realized, my guest pass was set up to only change a man into a woman. Or maybe the showers couldn't alter already-changed women. Whatever the reason, I felt disappointed in a way that I really didn't understand. I put my clothes back on and left the park.

**********

As I rang the doorbell on Anya's condo, I wondered if I was too early. Her work schedule had become quite hectic, with the accountant and taxes. She'd told me about her one experience with an audit; she and her grandmother really didn't want to repeat it.

I saw the peephole darken; Anya was smart enough not to take any chances. Seconds later, the door swung open and she stood, smiling. "Kind of early for a Saturday, aren't you?"

I shrugged my shoulders. "We haven't had much time lately, so I was hoping to catch you before you went to work."

Anya's face changed to echo her disappointment. "I'm sorry Greg. Really." I knew what was coming, even before she spoke. "We've got lots more work to finish for taxes. I'm going to be tied up all day."

My face fell. "Oh," I said without enthusiasm. "I understand."

Anya didn't look too happy about working, but she tried to smile. "I'll make it up to you tomorrow," she said in a sultry voice.

My pulse raced. "Deal." Thinking of how Anya made things up to me energized me.

She looked worried. "I didn't spoil any plans, did I?"

I shook my head. "Nah. And since you're busy, I think I'll go to the computer lab and work on the model."

The computer lab was empty, which was to be expected for such a gorgeous Saturday afternoon. I plunged into the work, trying to get the computer model of the proposed park expansion just right. Things were clicking into place quite easily; I guess that was a testament to how well I was learning. Still, my heart just wasn't in it. I just didn't feel like working. Despite that, I doggedly kept at it, forcing myself to concentrate on the work.

Late in the afternoon, I found myself walking across the Bikini Beach parking lot toward the turnstile, the image of my fantasy stripper in my head. I paused by the gate, questioning myself as to what I was doing. I knew, despite any attempted rationalization, that there was no work-related reason to enter the park. So what was my motive? Was I doing this to punish Anya for not spending time with me? Was I being that petty? I hoped not, but I couldn't bring myself to contemplate the alternative.

As I stood, debating with myself, I spied Ronnie Harris inside the park. She did a double take, then she waved, her tongue slowly and seductively wetting her lips. Damn, but she was hot! She had the figure of a twenty-year old — nice firm breasts, curvy legs, round little tush. I'd have been a fool not to get excited by her body. And she knew what she did to men. She used it to her advantage.

Her presence both excited and terrified me. Anya had warned me about her; to her, I was just another potential toy. I had a brief mental image of our naked bodies intertwined, our hands all over each other. My heart skipped a beat. Then the image shifted ever so slightly, and I saw Anya staring down at me, hurt and disappointment on her face. The excitement vanished.

I swiped the card and stepped through the turnstile. Changing into a girl would keep Ronnie away from me — unless, to my misfortune, she was bisexual. As soon as I entered the park, Ronnie sighed, then turned and walked away. I'd disappointed her. I felt relieved. At the same time, realization of what image had been in my mind when I swiped the card — the composite dream girl — caused me to feel a surge of excitement.

I had to fight to keep from skipping into the locker room. This late in the day, it was deserted. I opened my locker and changed quickly, then turned on the shower.

An explosion of pain sucked the breath out of my body. Every fiber, every muscle, every tendon seemed to be screaming in pain. Involuntarily, my mouth opened to scream, but no sound would come out. For a few moments, I couldn't breathe; my ribs and abdomen were clenched in a painful vise, the muscles unable to respond to my wishes. Every inch of my skin felt as if fire were crawling across my body.

After what seemed an eternity, the pain loosened its grip, and I collapsed to the floor, gasping for breath. Tears were rolling down my cheeks as I sobbed uncontrollably. My muscles began to respond to my command; the fire faded to an ache, which slowly ebbed to a dull throb.

Yet as I lay, curled up within the shower, I felt the changes happening to me. I could feel the hair flowing around my head, lengthening quickly. An increasing weight tugged at my chest, and I felt flesh pressing against the shower floor, a tiny touch now, and growing until I knew my large boobs were mashed on the cool tile.

I rolled to my knees and slowly pulled myself up, ignoring the pain of the movement. Hair swirled down around my eyes and tickled my shoulders and back. Large swaying weights tugged at my chest; the muscles they pulled on responded with new jabs of pain. I glanced down, and my mouth opened in awe. The boobs looked positively huge, bigger than I could have possibly imagined them to be. I willed my still-stiff arms to lift, my hands to cup, so that I could touch the enormous orbs.

I stepped gingerly from the shower and sat on a bench. My body still ached; I touched and caressed my boobs while I waited for the pain to completely vanish. The erotic tingling spreading from my breasts, from my big brown erect nipples, washed out the pain, blocking the sensations as I felt myself getting extremely aroused. With a tiny part of my mind watching in protest, I willed one hand to slip down, inside my bikini bottom. I wanted — no, I needed — more. Lots more.

**********

I double-checked the business card, and then parked my car. The pain was all but gone now, and I flounced across the parking lot, my boobs jiggling with every step. I took a quick glance down and smiled; the pink cropped top I wore was barely containing my massive breasts. The low-cut neckline displayed lots of flesh and cleavage, and the sheer size of my bustline held the bottom clear of my ribcage. A pair of very short white shorts hugged my hips, displaying my long tanned legs. Walking in the heels was a little tricky, given their three inch height and a tiny residual bit of muscle stiffness.

I walked to the door, and the doorman gave me an appreciative once-over as he held it open. Inside, I walked confidently to the counter.

He was eyeing me with the same appreciation as the doorman. "Can I help you?" he asked with a smile.

I smiled back, feeling a tingle of excitement at how he was looking at me. "I'm here for amateur night," I said, feeling nervous for the first time.

The man nodded. "What's your name, honey?"

"Geri Lawson," I replied, echoing the name which was now on my driver's license.

The man held out his hand. "Do you have some ID?" He sounded apologetic. "State laws. Can't have anyone under 21 dancing, you know."

I pulled my license from my purse and handed it to him. He glanced at it, then turned to his computer and keyed in some information. From what I could read over his shoulder, he was not only checking my age, but also checking that I was an amateur. The screen changed, and he turned back to me. "Okay, good. Have you ever done this before?"

I felt my cheeks burning. "No," I admitted softly.

"You should. You've got the body for it." He pointed to a door. "Go in back, and one of the girls will help you get ready. If you have any questions, ask. They're very helpful."

I thanked him and walked backstage. I was momentarily stunned; the dressing room was a chaotic mess of vanities, lockers, chairs and benches. There must have been fifty or sixty girls in various states of undress, getting ready to dance or wait tables.

One girl came up to me. "Hi, I'm Mandy. Are you here for the contest?" I nodded. "Okay, good. Have you got a g-string?" I shook my head. She frowned, then scooted off, returning seconds later with a red bottom. "Have you ever done this before?"

I shook my head. "I'm a bit nervous," I admitted.

Mandy smiled. "You'll do just fine." She lowered her voice. "And from the look of your assets, you're probably a shoe-in to win!" She smiled. "All you have to do is dance a set. You can probably wear your top — minus the bra, and just strip as sexy as you can. You want to end up in your G-string, okay?"

I nodded. As she described what I would be doing, I felt myself getting excited. This body was meant to be on display, and I was going to put it there. "Uh, what about tips?"

Mandy shook her head. "No tips are allowed during the contest. Afterward, though ..." The implication was clear; after the contest, I could try to earn tips — if I wanted. "Just remember the rules for table dancing — no touching, no soliciting. Okay?"

I nodded. I hadn't considered that someone might try to solicit sex from me. I peeled off my top and took off my bra. The cool breeze of the air conditioner, coupled with the excitement I felt, had my nipples erect. I picked a locker and deposited my bra and purse. I stripped off my shorts and panties and pulled on the G-string. I trembled at how erotic the G-string felt; I knew I was getting hot and wet. The panties went in the locker; the shorts came back on.

I waited backstage for quite a while, all the while getting more and more nervous. What the hell was I doing? This was insane — I was about to enter an amateur stripper contest and display this body to a room full of horny men. A shudder coursed up my spine.

Mandy saw me tremble, and she put her hand on my shoulder. "You'll do just fine," she reassured me. "I was plenty nervous my first time, too. Wait here a minute — I've got something that'll help steady your nerves." She disappeared toward the floor. A few seconds later, she came back with a glass. "Here. Take a sip. It'll calm you down."

I looked at the glass, then at Mandy. It looked like water, so I took a sip. "Tonic water?" I asked. I took another sip as I started to feel the butterflies calming inside my belly.

I was visibly trembling as I waited my turn. I took another few sips. Finally, the girl ahead of me finished and walked off the stage to the applause of the crowd. She smiled as she came backstage, and then she glared at me, her eyes daggers. I'm sure she realized I was her primary competition.

As I stepped onto the stage, I heard the cheering start. The bright lights dancing in my eyes blinded me to the crowd, but I could hear them. Their reaction reignited the excitement in my body. Before I knew it, the music started, and I started dancing. I felt clumsy, awkward, but within moments, I was feeling more natural. Perhaps it was the magic which had given me the dancing abilities of the strippers I'd modeled myself after. In any event, I found myself dancing as if it were the most natural thing, and as I swayed, I felt myself getting hotter and hotter. I don't remember how I peeled off my top; all I remember is the crowd went wild, which made my nipples hard with excitement. A few steps later, my shorts began to slide off, leaving me dancing in heels and a G-string. My hands traced the curves of my boobs, then my hips, while I danced to the erotic beat of the music. I felt wetness between my legs, a warm tingly sensation that spurred me to wilder and wilder gyrations.

Too soon for me, the music was over. Feeling the passion burning within, the frustration of being unsatisfied, I smiled and made an erotic show of retrieving my shorts and top.

Mandy smiled as I came backstage. "You nailed it," she said with confidence. "You got this one, hands down." She handed me the glass, and I gulped down the contents. I waited through the last two girls, and then the DJ brought all the girls onto the stage. To no-one's surprise, I won.

Backstage again, Mandy was preparing for her set. "Look, if you go out there in your G-string and top, you can probably get some good tips table dancing." She gave me a quick hug. "You really ought to come to work here. You're a natural." She turned and disappeared onto stage.

I felt giddy with the thrill of winning, and with the excitement my body felt. I asked another girl if I could get my tonic refilled, then gulped it down. Without considering what I was doing, I peeled off my shorts, slipped off my bra, and went out onto the floor.

It took about ten seconds before a man waved a twenty at me. Obligingly, my senses dulled by the excitement of the evening, I began to dance, my tits inches from his face. His hot breath in my cleavage only tantalized me further, making me wetter and hotter. I gyrated my barely-clad bottom toward him, watching over my shoulder as his eyes widened and he began to rub his crotch. The music pounded on in the background, its primal beat drumming into my brain, merging with my other senses until I felt myself swirling.

**********

Very, very slowly, the fog lifted from my brain. A dull roar seemed to echo within my head. I pried open my eyes, and winced from the bright light. My head pounded from my motions. Slowly, carefully, I opened my eyes again.

Something brown was distorting my vision. I strained to see through the wispy veil, and then lifted my hands to clear my face. A tiny gasp escaped my lips as my fingers pulled long wavy strands of hair from in front of my eyes.

I slowly became aware that things didn't feel right. Something was wrong. I reached down and tried to lever myself upright. Again, my head pounded in agony, and I screwed my eyes shut for a moment.

The tugging on my chest confirmed my worst fears. I opened my eyes and glanced down. The large breasts I'd had the previous evening were still on my chest. I lifted my delicate feminine hands to touch them, staring open-mouthed at the long red fingernails I still possessed. I heard a door opening, and turned.

Anya stood framed in the doorway. She was staring impassively at me, her face unreadable. "Morning, Greg," she said in a neutral tone.

"Where am I?" I asked the obvious question. The clues were slowly assembling in my befuddled brain. "Your place?"

Anya nodded. "How often have you been changing?"

I closed my eyes. "Now and then. To work on the park expansion."

Anya didn't blink. "Greg, please be honest with me." There was an edge to her voice, something between anger and hurt.

I opened my eyes. "Two, sometimes three times a week."

Anya nodded. "Have you had any pain with a transformation?" She read my face even before I nodded.

"Why am I still a girl?" I asked the only question that I could think of. "Did you do this to me — because I've been changing?"

Anya flinched at my accusation, and I realized just how I'd misread her. "No," she answered. The pain in her voice was unmistakable.

"What's going on, then?" I was sounding desperate.

Anya took a deep breath. "I had to prevent you from changing back until Grandmother can have a look at you. I think," she winced and took a deep breath, "that you've got transformation shock."

"Transformation shock?"

Anya nodded. "A body — a mortal body — can't take too many transformations without getting damaged. Not without some time to recover." She sat carefully on the edge of the bed and took my hand. "You've been changing too much lately. I was afraid that if I let you change back, it might hurt you - permanently." She held my hand, trying to comfort me. I realized how much she cared for me. Tears started to well up in the corners of her eyes. "Why?" she asked softly. "Why the changes?"

I looked up and caught her eyes. I felt ashamed at what I'd done to her, how I'd hurt her. I had to look down. "I've been working on the park expansion a lot, I guess," I answered meekly.

"Bullshit!" The angry edge was back in her voice. I glanced up again. Her eyes, still tearing from the pain, were accusing. "You could have done all that planning with one visit, maybe two." She turned away, staring toward the floor. In her profile, I saw her lip tremble. "And you could have met with Grandmother through the lot entrance."

I opened my mouth to rebut, but nothing came out. She'd nailed me — on every count. "I ... don't know," I finally mumbled.

"Do you like it?" Anya asked, still looking away from me. A glistening line on her cheek betrayed the tears. "Is that why you keep changing?"

I looked down at the floor, thoroughly ashamed of myself. "I don't know," I answered honestly. "I really don't know." We sat on the bed, both of us crying silently, for several anguishing minutes.

Anya broke the silence. "I don't understand," she said softly. "Did you have fun last night?"

I looked toward her, then I shook my head. "I'm not sure," I said, uncertainty in my voice. "I don't remember."

Anya looked at me, her mouth open in disbelief. "You don't remember?" She shook her head. "Oh, shit! I guess I'm lucky I found you. You're lucky I found you." She looked at me, staring deeply into my eyes. "You don't remember, do you?" It wasn't a question.

I shook my head. "I went to the cabaret — to the amateur contest. I ... I think I won." I was struggling to recall the events. "It's kind of hazy. I think I did a table dance. Or two." I lowered my gaze. "After that, I'm not sure."

Anya pressed her eyes closed. "I had to use a magic trace to find you," she said softly. "You don't remember leaving the club with a guy?" My mouth dropped open at her revelation. She sighed. "I had to rescue you. You went with a guy to his apartment. I had to stop you from losing your virginity." She visibly steeled herself to continue, a tiny shiver coursing up her spine. "I had to change myself into a large man. The 'jealous boyfriend' trick." It was obvious to me that Anya was unhappy at what she'd had to do to save me. "I had to threaten him to make him leave you alone." She shook her head again. "You wouldn't believe what he wanted to do — the three of us."

I felt tears running down my cheeks as if from a faucet. My cheeks burned from the humiliation, and I felt profoundly sorry for what I'd made Anya do. "I don't remember," I whispered.

"You were mad. Really mad. You kept screaming at me, to let you get laid." She bit her lip again. "And then you attacked me."

My jaw dropped open, and my head spun to stare at Anya. I ... attacked her? I tried to hurt her?

She turned slowly, reading my thoughts. "No, not like that. Sexually."

**********

We sat in the office at Bikini Beach; I felt naked in the revealing clothes I'd worn the previous evening, but nothing Anya had would fit my very large top. The old woman was impassive, and that alone made me shudder.

"And he's been getting more risque with every change," Anya said, her head cocked slightly as she stared warily at me.

I swallowed hard and looked at the old woman. "I think Anya is exaggerating a bit," I said defensively. "I don't think it's that bad."

The old woman continued her emotionless stare. "Would you like me to pull the change log?" She watched my eyes widen. "That's right. There's a magic log of each and every change." She sighed, letting her head drop wearily into her hands. Anya and I sat, unmoving, waiting for her to say something. After a very long minute, she looked up. "Anya, please go wait in the outer office."

Anya rose dutifully, and with a cautious glance at me, padded softly out of the office, shutting the door behind herself. I was alone with the powerful old woman. I swallowed hard; there was no telling what she was going to do to me.

"Greg, Anya wasn't lying, was she? You've been changing into a sexier body each time. You've been increasing your libido each time. Haven't you?" I knew, deep inside, that she was right; I dropped my head and nodded slowly.

"I ... I'm just curious," I said very softly. I didn't sound at all sure of myself.

The old woman shook her head. "No, you're not." I glanced up, and saw her staring into my eyes. "If you were just curious, you would have taken care of that with one or two changes." She watched me for a few seconds. "Greg, you were scared every time you changed. And yet, you kept doing it."

I shook my head; I wanted to deny what she was saying. "No," I said softly, over and over.

She stood from her desk and walked around, sitting lightly on the sofa beside me. "Greg, you were deliberately trying to get yourself in trouble, weren't you. So much so that you let yourself get drunk last night."

The word cut into my heart like a plunging dagger. "No!" I wailed in agony. "No, I didn't get drunk! I couldn't have gotten drunk!" I was shaking my head violently, even as tears streamed from my eyes.

"Greg, you were drunk," the old woman said softly. Though her words stung, they were devoid of accusation. "Why is that so hard to accept?" Despite the question, she had the tone of one who already knew the answer.

"Because," I began, my voice cracking with anguish, "because if I hadn't been drunk, my parents wouldn't have ..." My voice choked; I couldn't continue.

"They wouldn't have been killed?" She pulled my head onto her shoulder, holding me firmly but gently as I began to cry. My body convulsed with the spasms of loud uncontrolled sobbing. Time became irrelevant as I cried and cried, emptying my eyes on her shoulder.

"If I hadn't gotten drunk," I stammered through my sobs, "I would have been driving. I could have avoided the accident. They'd still be alive."

The old woman let me cry until no more tears would come. Finally, she lifted my head and stared into my eyes. "No, Greg. They wouldn't have. You could not have avoided the accident. The same way your father couldn't avoid it." She watched as her words sank into my heart. "If you'd have been driving, you'd have been killed instead of your father. And he'd be the one living in grief and pain. Only, he'd have been crippled by the injuries you got."

I shook my head, swirls of hair about my face. "No!" I couldn't accept her truth. "I could have avoided it."

She shook her head slowly. "No, Greg, you couldn't have." She waited for a few seconds, until she knew I'd really heard her. "What did your father say to you when he took the keys?"

My eyes narrowed; this question seemed so irrelevant. "I'm not sure," I said softly.

The old woman sighed. "Greg, look into my eyes." I couldn't help but follow her instructions; I stared deeply into her eyes, and suddenly I saw how ancient, how weary, she really seemed. "What did your father tell you?"

I stared, and then my mouth dropped. "No!" I cried again, feeling an icy knot form in my gut. "No!"

"Greg," she said, more insistently.

"He said," I began to sob again as I was forced to reveal the one remaining truth, "he said if I wasn't man enough to handle my booze, I wasn't man enough to drive home!" I collapsed onto her shoulder once again, a fresh spasm of sobs wracking my body.

She patted my back as I added more tears to her shoulder. "You've been punishing yourself," she said softly. "You've been hiding that awful truth since the accident, and it's been eating at you. And then you found my park. With it, you could change into a girl — a girl who would prove to your subconscious that your father was right - that you aren't man enough. A girl that would humiliate you, and hurt you. A girl that would punish you for not being man enough to drive home." She lifted my head once again. "You've been trying to punish yourself," she said with certainty. "Your subconscious wants to be humiliated as a man, to prove that your father was right. And if your father's words were right, there was no way he would have let you drive." Her voice softened, becoming soothing and comforting. "In a strange way, by punishing yourself, by humiliating yourself as a girl, you were trying to justify not driving, and rid yourself of the needless blame for the accident."

After what seemed an eternity of crying on her shoulder, I lifted my head and looked at her. "Why does that sound so ... believable? It can't be. Can it?" I said, trying to mask the turmoil of the knives carving up my insides. "But it hurts so much."

The old woman nodded solemnly, her lips pursed tightly together. "Yes, dear. I know it hurts." I could see pain — untold anguish — in her eyes. She really did know. She grasped my shoulders and held me up, facing her stern countenance. "Do you know how much you're hurting my Anya?" she asked slowly. I dropped my gaze, but she lifted my chin so I had to look into her eyes. "I can't let you keep hurting her. I can't risk it happening. Not again. Not to my Anya."

"What?" My curiosity overcame my guilt at how much I'd hurt her granddaughter.

The old woman, her eyes seeming as ancient as the moon, shook her head slightly, dismissing my question.

But I was not about to be put off. Anya may have been important to the old woman, but she was important to me, too. "Does this have anything to do with her magic?" It was her turn for her eyes to widen. "I get the feeling that she's a lot more powerful than she lets on," I said cautiously. My mouth dropped open as a piece clicked into place. "And that scares you, doesn't it?"

The old woman stared into my eyes, and then dropped her gaze. "She's as powerful as her mother. Maybe more so."

I frowned. "But why does that scare you?"

The old woman shook her head. "You're a lot more perceptive than I thought," she said softly. She grimaced momentarily as she swallowed. "Her mother was very powerful. She got too enamored with her power — before she learned to resist temptation. She started abusing her powers." The old woman's eyes were misting; I'd stumbled onto her own set of painful memories. "She was turning ... to ... I guess you'd call it the 'dark side'."

A cold shiver ran up and down my spine. Anya's grandmother noticed, and nodded. "Is that why Anya came to live with you?"

The old woman nodded slowly. "The wizard's council couldn't agree that she had to be stopped, not until it was almost too late. She grew too powerful and almost destroyed us all." She wiped a tear from her eye. "I can't take that chance with Anya. I can't go through that. Not again."

I swallowed again. "Is that why you don't use all your powers?" Anya had told me that her grandmother didn't use her full powers.

The old woman started; I'd surprised her by my deduction. "It's like you. You don't drink because of the horror of what you lived through. It's the same for my magic."

I felt another cold shiver. "Did you have to ... fight ... your daughter?"

The old woman's head snapped away from me. "No!" she insisted quickly. "Go wait outside and send Anya in please." Her voice was trembling with her directive; I knew I'd stumbled onto her private hell, the painful prison of her most awful memory. I also knew that I possessed a very dangerous secret. Trembling with fear, I crept from the office.

**********

"Grandmother said you'd tell me what's been going on." Anya slid onto a seat next to me.

I glanced at her, and then back at the floor. "Your grandmother thinks I've been running from my pain," I started. "I know I've got a lot of unresolved feelings over my parent's death."

"Are you going to be okay?" she asked simply.

I tried to look at her, but failed. I felt ashamed of how much pain I'd caused her. "I don't know."

The silence was awkward; Anya had a million questions, but she was waiting for me to speak. And my head was swimming with the things I should say, that I needed to say, but I didn't know where to start. Finally, Anya broke the silence. "All the changes?"

I sighed, feeling my boobs bounce, reminding me of the changes and the body I was stuck in. "I'm not sure," I began. "Your grandmother tried to help me understand. I think, maybe, it's because of the last thing my dad said to me." I felt my voice choking again as my emotions, already raw from my earlier discussion with Anya's grandmother, were again rubbed. "When he wouldn't let me drive, he said I wasn't man enough."

Anya's hands grasped my arm; she instinctively realized how much this admission had to hurt me. "I knew there was something. Something dark and hidden, but I couldn't find it."

"Maybe I thought that if I'd have been driving, I could have saved them. And since I wasn't man enough to handle my liquor, I wasn't man enough to save my parents." It seemed my tear supply was inexhaustible; a new batch started seeping from my eyes. "Maybe I was changing to try to punish myself, to prove I really wasn't a man. But since I couldn't get over my fear, I had to keep going further and further. At least that's what your grandmother thinks."

Anya gripped me tighter, offering what little comfort she could. "But you wouldn't have saved them," she said. "Surely Grandmother told you that." I nodded dumbly, wanting so much to believe, but not sure I could. Anya lifted my chin, turning my head so I was looking in her eyes. "If Grandmother said so, it's the truth." She looked into my eyes, and she knew instantly that I still didn't believe. "Would you like to have her show you what would have happened? What the accident would have been like if you'd been driving?"

"She can ...?" I started to ask, but then I stopped. Of course she could do that. She was very powerful. And somehow, I grown to trust her, despite her power. "No," I said, shaking my head. I can't go through that. Not again. I let my head drop again. "So now what?"

Anya shook her head. "I don't know."

"How long ... am I stuck like this? Is this permanent?"

Anya looked at me, and I saw the same sadness in her eyes that I'd seen in her grandmother's. "Do you want it to be?"

"No."

Anya's head nodded ever so slightly. "It isn't permanent. But you had a very bad case of transformation shock. You're going to have to stay like that for one or two weeks. Any sooner, and it could be harmful to change you back." She closed her eyes for a brief moment. "After that, you only get one change every couple of weeks."

I nodded my acceptance; I'd gotten myself into this mess, and now I had to live with the consequences. "I can't go back to the dorm. Not like this."

Anya's brow furrowed. "Why not?"

I looked down, staring into the canyon of cleavage on my chest. "Because my ... sex drive is still cranked up. I ..." I started to cry again, embarrassed, "I want sex. Even now." I turned to Anya, so she could see my desperation. "And I'm scared."

Anya smiled. "You can stay with me then."

I nodded, wiping a tear from one eye. "But I have work at school. And she said this was a local change — that it didn't affect anyone but me!" I was about to flunk out of school — all because I'd changed into a big-busted bimbo.

Anya smiled curiously. "Grandmother figured that you'd realize that. And she said I'd have to help you." She watched in amusement as I took in her statement. "Uh huh, I'll help you. After all, I've got to learn my magic somehow."

We walked slowly to her apartment, crossing the rapidly warming asphalt. My cheeks were very tear-stained, and I felt like every emotion in my body had been wrung dry; I was emotionally drained.

As the apartment door closed behind us, I realized that there was something I had to know. "Have we been moving too fast?" I asked in a timid voice, terrified of the answer I might receive.

Anya looked at me, then dropped her gaze. "I don't know," she answered softly. "I think so." Her voice was incredibly sad; it echoed the sentiments in my heart. "I'm afraid of losing someone again. Like you are."

With a heavy heart, I nodded, understanding what she meant. She was afraid of being hurt again, like when she'd lost her mother. It was a sinking feeling to realize that something that could have been very special was ending.

"But I'm afraid of being alone, too," Anya added in a whisper. I glanced at her, surprised. "We both have a lot of pain to work through," she continued. "But that doesn't mean we can't be close." She opened her stance, and I knew she needed a hug almost as much as I did. "Maybe we need to help each other.

With a palpable sense of relief at not losing her, I stepped into her arms, to give her a hug. I felt my huge boobs pressing against her, and I had to stretch to get my arms around her. "At least as close as we can be with these things in the way?"

Anya stared at me, then glanced down at my boobs, then looked back into my eyes. She started laughing softly through her tears. Her arms wrapped around me, pulling me as close as she could.

I leaned closer, then whispered in her ear. Anya drew back, a surprised look on her face. "Are you sure?" she asked warily.

I nodded slowly. "I think so. You didn't turn it down yet, and I am still curious." I tried to smile, to overcome my nervousness. "Besides, since I'm stuck like this for a while..."

Anya stepped back, then did a brief incantation. Her body seemed to melt and flow, and I felt myself getting aroused.

**********

Epilogue

Anya grasped my hand tightly, giving it a reassuring squeeze. I took a deep breath, then closed my eyes and swiped the card. My stomach felt like it was tumbling as I stepped through the turnstile. The walk to the locker room was agonizingly long, each step an exercise in fear and trepidation. I quickly pulled on my trunks, then reached in the stall and turned on the shower. For nearly a minute, I stood outside the shower curtain, quivering with fear and uncertainty. I remembered the last time I'd showered, and the excruciating pain. I remembered vividly what I'd ended up looking like, and how much it had nearly cost me.

Finally, I set my jaw and stepped into the water, flinching at the first spray on my body, prepared for the pain it was going to bring. In my mind, I knew that the pain had come from transformation shock, and that I was over it. There wouldn't be any pain. At least that's what the rational half of my brain said. But the emotional half screamed its fear, its dread of repeating the experience I'd suffered through.

The fears vanished when the pain failed to materialize. Instead, I felt the warm tingly sensation that I'd first experienced several months ago. Slowly, I felt myself relaxing and I started to enjoy the shower.

I smiled at Anya as I emerged from the shower. She smiled back, then gave me a once over. "Not quite what I expected," she said playfully.

I shrugged. How could I explain it to her? I wanted to look like a plain, average, ordinary girl. None of the exotic stripper look; instead, more like the girl-next-door. From my medium-length sandy blond hair to my incredibly average toes, I was just another girl. Blue eyes and freckles, perky little boobs and a nice round tush. A bit taller than average, but not too tall. I wanted to prove to Anya — and to myself — that I didn't need to be an attention-grabbing pair of tits on a bimbo body. I wasn't looking for trouble; I was here for the unveiling.

Anya and I walked, holding hands, to the Tiki dining hut. As we neared, I saw the crowd gathered; this was some event. Inside the hut was standing room only. Dozens of people milled around outside, trying to get a better glimpse of the temporary stage. I glanced around, seeing some of the attendees. Two women from city council were there, as were a number of prominent business women. I gulped when I recognized one of the Senators from our state; this was a very high-powered event.

Anya held my hand tightly and began to thread her way through the crowd. At first, a few people objected, but when they recognized Anya, they let us pass easily. We reached the stage, and Anya pulled me up the steps, to her grandmother's side.

I felt awkward. Here I was, in the midst of the community elite, the movers and shakers of the feminine side of our city, even of the state, and I couldn't fade into the background. Hell, I wasn't even really a girl. I glanced around nervously, wondering how many people realized that little fact. I stood among dignitaries and leaders, around a cloth-covered stand.

Anya's grandmother stepped up to the microphone. "I'd like to thank you all for coming," she began. Her voice was warm and friendly, and she was working to mask her excitement. "I'd like to introduce one of our special guests today, a community leader who really needs no introduction. She's been a friend since she built her condos next door, and she's been a staunch supporter of this little park. Ronnie, come on up and say a few words."

Ronnie Harris stepped smartly to the mike, pausing to give grandmother a warm hug. She then went into a short speech about how the old woman had found a niche, giving women of the city a place they could relax, a place they could socialize and gather without fear. I was impressed by how she strung together words into lovely statements; her speech was warmly received.

The speeches continued. The Senator got a turn at the mike, as did one of the councilwomen. I was tired, and I wanted to get off this stage.

Anya sensed my discomfort and nudged me. "See the lady beside Mayor Jenkins?" she asked in a whisper.

I glanced, then nodded to Anya. "Her daughter?"

Anya tried to conceal her grin. "Her husband." I felt my jaw dropping, and had to concentrate to keep a straight expression. "Yup, that's her husband. In fact, about a fourth of the women here are spouses of the dignitaries and special guests," she explained in a hushed tone. "You're not the only one, so quit fidgeting and worrying."

"But that's going to really spill the secret, won't it?"

Anya shook her head the tiniest bit. "Nah. Most of them won't remember anything in the morning. Except that they went to a dedication with their wives."

Grandmother had the microphone again. "When I started this park, I knew we needed a refuge, a place where women could let their hair down and play — without worrying about getting ogled or worse." She drew appreciative smiles from most of the crowd. "The community support for Bikini Beach is far greater than I could have hoped for."

Yeah, right, I thought to myself. She probably gazed into her crystal ball and saw that she'd have a good customer base here. Anya must have read my thoughts; I got a sharp elbow in my ribs.

"Every business has a few defining moments. This is one of those moments. Because the support the community has given me has made this a popular park, I've decided that Bikini Beach is going to expand, to grow to meet its customers' expectations. The women of this fine city have spoken: they love Bikini Beach. Well, Bikini Beach is listening to your enthusiasm, so we're going to make Bikini Beach bigger and better."

Anya nudged me, pushed me really, toward the old woman. I felt like I'd been set up; I didn't know what to do.

"I'd like to introduce Geri Lawson, a student from our fine university who's getting a degree in architecture. Geri impressed me with her skills, and she's been the key in designing the new expansion of Bikini Beach."

My cheeks reddened as I was acknowledged. I vowed, under my breath, to get Anya for this.

"Geri did most of the design work for the two new theme areas of Bikini Beach — the Ancient World, and the Jungle Adventures. And there's a new play area for the kids — the Pirate Ship." She handed me a cord, and gestured that I should tug. I glanced at Anya, and gave the cord a sharp pull.

In the center of the platform, the cloth cover came off the stand, revealing a large display case. The dignitaries on the stage ooh'ed and ah'ed as they gazed at the model, a faithful miniature reproduction of the existing Bikini Beach and its additions.

I don't remember much more of the unveiling; everyone was gazing admiringly at the model I'd built, then shaking my hand and congratulating me on the design. I almost lost my voice explaining the themes to the gathered elite. The Ancient World used classical Greek and Roman architectural elements, together with their mythologies. The Jungle Adventure combined elements of nearly every jungle movie ever made, with heavy emphasis on Tarzan.

As the group began to disperse, I finally got to crawl down from the stage. My throat burned from all the talking and my feet ached. I started to leave, and then I recognized one of the professors from the Architecture College. She was coming over to talk to me.

"Young woman," she said in a stern tone, "I don't seem to recall meeting you." She was giving me a less-than-friendly look, as if I'd committed some mortal sin.

"Uh," I had to stall for time; surely she wouldn't believe the truth, "Dr. Evans," I figured calling her by name would maybe confuse her for a moment, "I'm just one of the quiet ones."

"Hmmph," she snorted, still staring at me. I felt like a mouse staring at the beak of an eagle just before it became lunch. "I know every student in my college."

The old woman slipped up beside the professor. "Excuse me," she said softly but insistently. She leaned over and whispered something in Dr. Evans' ear.

Dr. Evans' eyes widened, but then she started to smile. Slowly, the smile turned into laughter. "Well, Mister Lawson," she said with a grin, emphasizing the word mister, "I'm sorry I didn't recognize you." She reached out her hand and clasped mine. "I've got to admit that you've done fine work on the design."

I let out a sigh of relief. "Thanks," I mumbled. I wanted to go, to have her release my hand so I could escape.

"I should have guessed. You see, I'm a member of the park too." She leaned a bit closer. "So, are you going to join full time?" She had an almost anticipatory tone in her voice — I felt like she was hoping I'd join, and then maybe join her for some fun. After all, the rumor was that she was a lesbian.

Anya wrapped herself around me. "No, he's not going to join," she said firmly.

Dr. Evans looked disappointed. "No? Too bad." She dropped my hand. "Still, very nice work." She glanced around, and then darted off to mingle with the crowd.

Anya pulled me away from the crowd, back toward the entrance area. "So what are you going to do tonight?"

I shrugged. "I'd love to go out, but I've got a date." Anya slapped me, playfully I hoped. Then she leaned and whispered in my ear. I recoiled, stunned at her suggestion. I glanced at her to see if she were joking. "You're serious," I finally said. She just smiled and nodded. I shook my head. "Doing it once or twice was interesting. But I don't want to get used to it. No offense."

Anya smiled; I couldn't tell how much she was serious, and how much she was just yanking my chain.

"You want to go to the Coconut Club with the girls tonight?" I asked quickly, wanting to change the subject. "I thought we could meet Liz and Jenny there."

Anya smiled. "Sounds like fun."

As we walked back to the gate, I felt a twinge of sadness. I knew that I'd love to get more serious with Anya; she was fun, and she'd already stolen a piece of my heart. But we didn't dare. Not until we got over our losses, and she learned enough not to be dangerous. I trembled inside, thinking of the awful secret that I'd learned from her grandmother. Fortunately, the old woman had given me a spell that would keep me from accidentally letting Anya know the horrible truth.

Yup, all things considered, it would be a while before Anya and I could get really serious. In the meantime, she was my best friend — and my girlfriend.

As I thought about what she'd whispered, her rather steamy suggestion, I started to feel a bit warm and tingly. Maybe I'd take her up on her idea after all.

FIN (for now)