His plan was coming together. Kyle thought he’d figured out the rules… or at least most of them. Curses were varied and tricky things, almost like contracts with reality. The sorcerer who’d hawked the curse to Samira’s family had apparently worded it with ridiculous clauses. First, it targeted anyone who so much as saw Samira’s “forbidden gates.” This rule, it turned out, extended to photographs of said gates. Samira had confirmed that much.
From experience, Kyle knew all too well what happened next: both Samira and the target transformed into each other, supposedly to give her some sort of advantage. The last phase of the transformation seemed to have something to do with the target’s ideas around gender, maybe as a punishment. None of it made much sense.
According to Samira, her aunts and mother had decided that the supposed sorcerer, who cast the curse on Samira’s tenth birthday, was an utter charlatan. But then, many in the older generations put little stock in magic; they’d grown up long before Portal Day reintroduced arcane science and supernatural oddities into the world and couldn’t adapt to the times.
Kyle discovered two other kinds of rules, first from pestering Samira, who seemed reluctant to talk with him too much about the curse, and then through his own curious experiments, driven by burning curiosity. I need to know how this stuff works, he kept telling himself. What if something goes wrong? Or… what if I’m interested in studying curses for a living?
Samira had explained limits on the curse; it wouldn’t work if she was menstruating or pregnant, because her mother had worried about interfering with Samira’s hormonal cycles and fertility.
He’d discovered another rule two weeks after the initial encounter between Sam and Kylie: the target had to be close enough to Samira to trigger it. That made sense, given the curse aimed to protect Samira’s chastity—whether she liked it or not. The practitioners of magic who’d dreamed up such things had lived before the age of social media and revenge porn.
Kyle felt awkward when he considered how he’d made that discovery. Samira had taken the print of the provocative upskirt she’d posed for at the record shop, but had forgotten that they’d developed it from negatives.
For two weeks, he’d kept those negatives locked in his desk drawer and sealed in an envelope marked “Marine Biology Homework.” He didn’t want to trigger the curse again, or so he told himself. Unfortunately, his mind wasn’t exactly cooperative. He’d dreamed about being Kylie almost every night, waking up hot and bothered with a tent in his sheets.
Eventually, his curiosity and lust had gotten the better of him. He’d taken the film roll from his desk, developed a print while looking the other way, and laid the dried print on his desk. When he’d dared to open his eyes… nothing had happened. No transformation.
Kyle had breathed a sigh of relief, then picked up the picture. Samira was posing, showing her red panties and smooth brown skin, her ass lifting in the air, framed by her chocolate-colored dress. And he didn’t feel anything. The next day in the college quad, Samira seemed completely normal; he doubted anything had happened to her either.
All those conclusions about the rules of Samira’s curse were why he’d ended up here: perched with his feet up in a locked dressing room, in the women’s lingerie section of a department store. First, he’d waited until Samira was having her period—a fact he’d found out by listening to her typical complaints about cramps the week before, then peeking in her bag to confirm. Yep, she was packing: pads, ibuprofen, and dark chocolate.
Second, he’d waited until Samira went shopping with two friends who he kind of knew, Dina and Jessica. Samira and he were best friends—maybe with benefits now—but the other two girls were close behind, though they didn’t all hang out together often. Kyle had waited outside the department store, then trailed the three of them inside.
He felt like a stalker and a creep, especially when he snuck past the salesclerks and hid in a changing room. He pulled an envelope with the print from his backpack; if he was right, he’d change, but Samira would never know. Then he could… well, he wasn’t sure what, but he knew that sex could change him back, and he figured that included… personal exploration.
Dina and Jessica were chatting Samira up while she was alone, and Kyle could hear every word.
“So, are you guys, like, a couple?” asked Jessica. She was petite and Asian, with dyed blue hair.
Samira hesitated. “Well, I wouldn’t go that far…” she said. “We’ve messed around, but--”
Dina was heavyset and Black, with short, braided hair. “No way! I knew something was going on. It was just recently, right? I knew something was different!”
Samira sounded embarrassed. “Yeah… it was recent. We’ve known each other forever, and things just happened one day. I didn’t want to, like, spoil it.”
Jessica’s voice again: “So how was the white boy loving? Was he… attentive?” Kyle rolled his eyes. He could just imagine Jessica waggling her eyebrows with innuendo.
Samira paused. “Let’s just say… I got my satisfaction from him.” The other two giggled, but he could tell they were moving away. Shit! He wasn’t sure what the range of the curse was, so he had to hurry. Fumbling the envelope open, he took a deep breath and stared at the print. It didn’t take long.
Kyle felt the transformation this time while knowing what it was. It was the same as last time: the queasy stomach, muscle tension, joints popping. He’d worn athletic shorts and a workout shirt, and was glad as soon as he felt his hips spreading and waist narrowing.
This time, Kyle was prepared for the sensation of his cock and balls retreating into his body, but he wanted to watch. He yanked his shorts and briefs down to see his penis contracting into his body.
It was fascinating: the head shrank back into his shaft, which was becoming smaller and shorter, as his scrotum vanished as well, flattening and smoothing into puffy lips. Kyle felt a twinge of sadness as his cock disappeared entirely, leaving a sensitive nub between his legs that he guessed was his clitoris. His hips rounded and widened, making his waist seem even more feminine in contrast.
Kyle felt his thoughts shift as well, though not as dramatically as before. Maybe it was because Samira wasn’t changing. He really hoped she wasn’t; that would be embarrassing for her. Why wasn’t I more considerate? Why didn’t I just talk to her? Still, his thoughts strayed to Samira’s hips and breasts, her firm muscles and confident walk. Now he understood why Kylie had felt so attracted to Sam—it was all about Samira.
Kyle heard the three girls return, chattering away as they passed the dressing rooms. He stifled a yelp as his pelvis tilted with a crack, sending his butt jutting backwards. His breasts swelled, pressing painfully against his shirt, then stopped growing. Wait—was he turning into Kylie, or Samira? He reached for his head and pulled forward a handful of thick, silky blonde hair. Kylie. Okay, good. He took a deep breath and turned around.
The mirror behind him captured the last stages of his transformation into Kylie: a cute round face, high cheekbones, and a pointed chin. Kyle’s—no, Kylie’s—eyes were still green. His athletic shirt hung from her slender frame, her shoulders narrow and her body thin.
Even as Kylie watched, she shrunk a little, until her head barely passed five feet. She shrugged out of her clothes and appraised herself in the mirror: definitely a hot girl, with perky C-cup breasts that looked huge on her slight frame. Kylie reached down and touched her newly formed vulva, exploring the soft lips that framed her entrance.
Okay, she thought. Just gotta wait until they leave… and then I can head out, back to my place. She ached with the need to touch herself, explore what it felt like to be a girl. Why not? Kyle had always had a submissive side, a desire to obey, to surrender control and be owned by someone else—let’s be honest, okay? By Samira. She just hadn’t been able to let that part out before. Not until she was Kylie. Maybe this could help Kyle learn more about himself?
Suddenly, Kylie’s attention jolted back to the voices of Samira’s friends. “I think it’d look so hot on you!” Dina’s voice. Kylie froze, trying to be quiet as a mouse again. It’s not like they’d come into a locked dressing room, but what if someone knocked…?
She picked up her clothes and looked around. A green, lacy lingerie set hung from a hanger, left by the last occupant of the room. Maybe she could just pretend to be an ordinary girl trying on clothes. As long as Samira doesn’t see my face…
She reached for the lingerie, as motivated by curiosity about what it felt like to wear sexy clothes than by any plan. Kylie shoved her backpack and clothes under a bench and inspected the straps of the bra. In theory, she knew how to take one of these off, and she’d seen Samira put one on, but figuring out how it hooked…
She got it on after a few tries and realized it was almost comically small. The bra barely held Kylie’s breasts, which spilled over the cups in a cascade of creamy flesh. She adjusted the straps and turned around. Hmm. Not so bad. Sideboob’s kinda cute. Kylie tugged the panties up her hips and turned to see the triangle in the back was absolutely tiny. The thong riding up her crack showed off a lot of her new ass.
God damn, she thought, looking in the mirror. Look at me. Kylie couldn’t help posing and admiring herself, sticking her butt out. She’d never expected to have such a perfect ass; she ran her hands over the firm globes appreciatively.
Kylie shivered as she felt a surge of excitement between her legs. Then the door banged open with a kick, just as she was running her hands along her hips.
“Kylie!” Samira hissed. “I knew you were in here somewhere!”
Kylie spun around, mortified. Samira closed the door behind her and locked it.
“Uh… excuse me,” Kylie stammered. “I think you have me confused--”
Samira pressed up against Kylie’s body and grabbed her throat, backing her against the wall. Kylie shivered with fear and arousal as Samira squeezed her neck, staring down into her eyes. Samira hooked one foot in the backpack’s loop and pulled it out.
“I suppose you just happen to have my friend Kyle’s bag? What’s going on, Kylie? Or is it Kyle?” Samira’s grip tightened on Kylie’s throat. Kylie whimpered, totally at Samira’s mercy.
“Um… Kylie. I’m sorry, Samira… please don’t hurt me!” Kylie was panicking, unsure how Samira would react.
Samira loosened her grip, looking down at the lingerie-clad blonde. “You’d better explain this. I felt the curse kick in, you know, even if it didn’t transform me. That’s probably part of why I feel…” she flexed her fingers. “Kind of pissed off right now! Did you plan this or something?”
Kylie squirmed, Samira’s hand still resting on her delicate collarbone. “I’m… no! I wanted to see what it was like… you know, as a girl. It’s not really planned.”
“But you followed me here… and I’m going to guess you knew I wouldn’t transform for a few days, at least? Oh my God, Kylie… why didn’t you just say something? I said you could take another picture.”
Kylie blushed furiously. “It’s not that… well, yeah, but I didn’t want you to know. I was… curious. I don’t know, Samira!”
Samira nodded. “You were ashamed? Even after… what we did last time?” Kylie blushed, avoiding Samira’s gaze.
“Yeah… I guess. I’m sorry.”
“Hmm. Well, did you even have any plans for how to change back?” Kylie shook her head sheepishly. Samira sighed.
“Kylie… I’m disappointed in you. Here you are, playing games with a curse you don’t understand… and putting both of us at risk.” Samira reached down and pinched Kylie’s nipples through the lacy bra, hard. Kylie squealed and flinched, squirming helplessly.
“Samira… oww!” Samira looked as if she was about to say something else, but a knock sounded on the door.
“Samira, is that where you went?” Jessica asked. “Are you… talking to someone in there?”
Samira’s eyes widened. Kylie bit her lip and looked up at Samira desperately. Then Samira’s expression changed, just slightly.
“Actually, yes!” called Samira, her voice sweet and innocent. “I ran into an old friend. You guys want to meet her?” She let go of Kylie’s nipple, grabbing her wrist instead.
“Sure!” called Dina. Samira unlocked the door and flung it open, exposing Kylie to her friends. Kylie blushed furiously as Jessica and Dina took in the petite blonde in lacy lingerie that was clearly two sizes too small.
“Jessica, Dina, this is… uh… Carmela.” Samira released Kylie’s wrist, giving her a significant glance.
“Hi,” said Kylie shyly. She bit her lip and smiled up at the two other girls, feeling the strap of the bra dig into her shoulder. “Didn’t expect to run into anyone I knew here…”
Jessica and Dina introduced themselves, glancing back and forth between Kylie and Samira. Kylie could swear there was a strange vibe, a sexual tension in the air that had never existed before.
“Listen, can I catch up with you two?” Samira’s tone was light and pleasant, but there was a clear undercurrent of command. “Carmela and I have some catching up to do.”
“Oh, yeah, no problem!” said Jessica, obviously a little surprised. “Text us later, Samira.” She exchanged a look with Dina and headed towards the exit.
Dina trailed after her, but not before smirking and commenting in a stage whisper, “Hey Carmela… might want to try a bigger size?”
Kylie winced, then breathed a sigh of relief and turned to Samira.
“Carmela? Really?” Kylie cocked her head, blonde hair tumbling down her chest.
Samira’s face broke into a wicked grin. “Hey, I only had a moment’s notice to come up with a name. And this is all your fault, anyway… slut.” Samira flicked Kylie’s nipple again, sending a jolt of pain and arousal through the transformed boy.
“Ahh! Samira… fuck.” Kylie rubbed her sore nub. “Why are you being so mean?”
Samira’s smile faded. “Because you did this without asking me, Kylie. Or should I call you Kyle right now?” Kylie bit her lip.
“I guess… either’s okay. Whatever you want… but I prefer Kylie like this.”
Samira nodded. “All right, Kylie it is. For now.” She squeezed Kylie’s nipple again, making the transformed boy suck in her breath sharply.
