TG Fiction: Crying For Ogre — Part 4

| Mar 14, 2011
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Friday, September 12, 1986

Smurf waited until Ogre left for class, then went up to the third floor. The room was locked. Odd, but not unexpected. However, Smurf was also the House “repairman” and had keys to all the rooms.

Ogre’s room was neat as a pin! Bed made, clothes neatly put away — a far cry from the Ogre he knew. He searched around a bit, and in the bottom drawer of the dresser he found the purse, bra, sweater and jeans. He smiled.

“Oh man, is he ever gonna be humiliated!” he thought. Smurf’s mind wandered back to a girl last fall who he really wanted, but Ogre got her — then dumped her. He wanted revenge ever since.

Smurf grabbed the stuff and locked the door behind him as he left.

Andrew ate out again. Even though he SHOULD watch his figure — “Why do I keep thinking that?”

At dinner in the House, Smurf held up the items and said they were in Ogre’s room, so it proved he was a “fuckin’ faggot crossdresser.”

There were some laughs, but not many. More quizzical looks. Smurf had been railing about Ogre since last fall, and most guys were tired of hearing it.

“Rocky,” the president of the house (and Ogre’s pledge brother), then stood. “Hey asshole, did you ever date anyone? Female that is? It’s not unusual for chicks to leave a change of clothes at their boyfriend’s place. Dumb ass!

Many more laughs. Smurf sat down. A few minutes later, five of Ogre’s pledge brothers grabbed Smurf and hauled him off to a bathroom for a proper swirly.

“No one accuses our pledge brother of being some fag!”

Saturday, September 13, 1986

Most houses partied on Saturday night, and tonight was no exception. The football team won its away game and everyone was in the mood to party. Andrew was as well — it had been one hell of a week — but he didn’t really want to be in the house. Pi Kap was partying, and he knew some of the guys there, so he put on some new jeans (very baggy guy jeans), bound his breasts (and why did he look so much thinner?) and put on a loose school sweater (inside out of course, as was the fashion.) Just a couple more days and he would get to a doctor, but how would he explain the clothes changing?

Pain finds me everywhere
Oh! but you don’t care
Don’t forget me when I’m gone
My heart would break

Grover was also out for the night, but he went to apartment party thrown by his freshman year room mate. His plan was to meet some girls and bring them back to the house and REALLY party. Maybe he’d even get lucky. After all, it was a new semester and anything could happen.

The night was loud, fun and soaked with beer. Grover saw a familiar face.

“Hey! You’re, um, Cheryl, right?” he said to her.

Cheryl looked at him for a moment before recognition hit. She met him once over the summer when he visited for a weekend.

“Yes, but I’m sorry I forgot your name,” she said.

“Friends call me Grover,” he said. “Get you a beer?”

“No thanks. I’m fine,” she said, holding up her fairly full bottle of Busch.

“So its funny — one of the guys found your underwear and stuff in Ogre’s room, and tried to accuse him of being a crossdresser. We swirlied his ass!” Grover said, laughing.

“Uh, my underwear?”

“Yeah, don’t you keep some in Ogre’s room? I mean y’know…”

By look on her face, Grover knew that he really screwed up.

“Oh look I am so sorry. I didn’t… I mean…”

Show me your bright lights and your city lights, all right.
I’m talkin’ ’bout the Yankee Rose.

Over at Pi Kap, Andrew was in the basement party room when the pain hit him.

“Oh no!” he knew what it meant.

He worked his way through the crowd to the stairs up then through a door: a closet. His chest, scalp and fingers tingled — hell his whole body — however his abdomen seared in pain.

He could feel his manhood shrinking, and there was nothing he could do. It was become smaller — smaller. His balls pulled into his body and everything was reforming and changing. He felt a new opening between his legs as his labia formed and his penis shrank between the folds to become a clitoris. His boxers became silky and tighter — panties.

Cos you know I know babe
That I don’t wanna go.
Throwing it all away
Throwing it all away

He felt the bandages reform again into a bra, but it felt different this time, as if they didn’t support his breasts as well. He also felt his breasts growing and becoming rounder — heavier. His hair fell around his shoulders again, beautiful and blonde, and his face tingled as it changed. His entire head shrank a little — his cheekbones became more prominent, his chin softened and his nose repaired itself to become small and cute. His scar vanished and his face was soft and blemish free. His eyes now seemed larger and became a hypnotic sea blue. His eyebrows became arches and his lips plumped to a sexy pout. His throat burned for just a moment and his neck became just a little longer and more graceful.

He felt punches in his earlobes and he knew they were now pierced. Andrew then felt a draft as his jeans changed, pulling upward to become a leather miniskirt. A skirt! He was wearing a fucking skirt! He felt like crying. Guys don’t wear skirts! Rugby stars don’t wear skirts! His sneakers became black pumps with three inch heels. His socks became thinner and he could feel the air through them as they stretched up over his hips to become pantyhose. He knew his sweatshirt changed by the way it felt, but couldn’t tell how in the darkness.

The girl can’t help it, she needs more
He hasn’t found what he’s lookin’ for

As suddenly as it started, it was over. Andrew was no longer male. She was now female — a young woman. Her mind neared its breaking point trying to understand what happened and trying to comprehend how… and why.

A few blocks away, Cheryl composed herself in the bathroom of the apartment. She fixed her makeup, took a deep breath, and left.

The Spirit smiled. She made some other subtle changes, but then decided to do something more for Cheryl. She took away the pain of Cheryl’s memories. She would remember Andrew “Ogre” Gruber, but it would not hurt her ever again.

Especially since that person no longer existed.

Andrew opened the closet door and took a tentative step out. She took a few steps toward the door, surprised at her proficiency in her heels. Suddenly, her way was blocked by a huge guy with a bad mullet! Holy shit! Beef!

“Hey honey! Where you goin’? Someone *burp* hot as you can’t leave yet,” he said.

“Umm, uhh…” she said, and noticed her new feminine voice. Husky, yet very feminine. Beef seemed so much taller. She must have shrunk three or four inches!

“Come on I’ll get you a beer,” he said, and flexed.

“No, no thank you. I have to go,” Andrew said, and dodged around him to the door, heels clacking on the tile floor.

“What are you a fuckin’ lezbo?” she heard Beef shout.

Once outside she walked quickly down the block, and then stopped to look at herself.

She was indeed wearing black pumps, charcoal hose, Leather mini that barely covered her crotch, and a tight pink top unbuttoned to show devastating cleavage. “Am I wearing a pushup?” Andrew wondered. Her boobs seemed so much bigger — at least a D cup. Her hands wandered almost involuntarily to feel them, which brought a catcall from a guy nearby. She saw the bangle bracelets on her wrists, and her long nails painted a sparkly red. She wore several pretty rings on her slim fingers. Her curly blonde hair blew in the early autumn breeze.

“Oh my God — now what will I do?” she thought.

Andrew was now a sexy woman on a Saturday night in a town full of parties and horny college guys.

And she was dressed to prowl.

To be continued…

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Category: Fiction

Sophie Lynne

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