Book of Spells 12

Book of Spells 12

Frank Miller stared at his son. "Before you leave the house, we need to have a long talk."

"No, we don't, Dad," replied Stan. "I've got a good idea what you want to talk about... again. More talking won't change anything. Annie and I are getting married. There's nothing you can do to stop us."

"You can't marry that damn girl!" snapped Frank. "I won't allow it!"

"You have no say in what I do! As much as I know how much you'd like to, I run my own life."

Frank glared at his willful son. "You're making a big mistake."

"You should listen to your father, dear," said Stan's mother calmly. Marion Miller was generally the calming influence whenever her husband and son argued, something that had become increasingly more frequent since Stan had met Annie. "He's only doing what he thinks is best for you." She smiled warmly at her son and only child. "Besides, I think you can do a lot better than someone like her."

"When did you turn into such a snob, mom?" asked Stan. "You know as well as I do that dad always does what he thinks is best for him." A wry grin spread slowly across his face. "I guess I'm just a chip off the old block in that respect. If dad had listened to granddad like he expects me to listen to him, we wouldn't be standing here having this discussion."

Marion and Frank exchanged odd glances. With both of his parents glaring at him, Stan wondered if he should have let it slip he knew anything about that little family secret.

"That's enough of that crap, young man!" When Frank looked over at his wife again, Marion slowly nodded her head as if she were agreeing to something. Stan wondered what, if anything, their exchange meant "You won't be marrying that tramp as long as I have any say in the matter."

"Isn't that the whole point, dad? How many times do I need to tell you that you have no say in this before it sinks in. No matter what you say or do, Annie and I are getting married."

"That's never going to happen, dear," said Marion.

"What are you talking about, mom?" Before she could answer, Stan heard his father mumbling something. When he turned to face him, Stan saw his father put what appeared to be an old book on the coffee table beside him. "What was that supposed to be?"

"You'll see soon enough, *son*," replied Frank, oddly accenting the word 'son'.

Within moments of the words being out of Frank's mouth, Stan began feeling peculiar. There was nothing specific he could put a finger on. He'd simply never felt so strange before. "What have you done?" asked Stan, his voice cracking much as it had on entering puberty.

His body began tingling oddly. A gentle, but insistent, pressure squeezed at Stan's waist. His chest began feeling puffy. There were highly peculiar, but most pleasingly pleasant, sensations centered about his groin.

Abruptly, his shoulders were bared. Within another heartbeat at most his newly bared shoulders were draped in cascades of long silky hair. His body felt as if it were pushed and pulled, stretched and compressed in several directions at once. In addition, Stan became more aware of an ever increasing weight on his chest. When he raised his arm, Stan was appalled at the sight of a smaller, more feminine looking hand with long, slender, fingers and red-painted long nails.

"What have you done to me?" At the sound of his unexpectedly higher pitched soprano voice, Stan's smaller feminine hand clutched at his throat. The smoothy softness of his skin surprised him.

"Isn't it obvious, sweetie?" grinned Frank. "There's been a change in your life."

Sweetie? Why would his father call him 'sweetie'? What did he mean by a change?

"I wasn't sure what to expect, but you turned out quite pretty, dear," smiled his mother.

"Pretty? What the hell do you mean pretty?" That was a word he would have never used to describe himself. "What's going on?" All of a sudden, Stan had an urgent need to find out what his father had done. Unsteadily - his body just felt so totally wrong - Stan turned toward the closet across the room. He'd be able to get a good look at himself in the full-length mirror that hung on its inner door. If only he could manage the short walk there without falling down.

Stan took only one faltering step in that direction before everything unexpectedly changed. He was still aware his body had physically changed. And likewise, Stan knew his body no longer moved as it always had. And yet at the same time, everything somehow, very oddly, seemed perfectly normal now.

Swiftly, he made his way to the closet. Once he opened the door, Stan was shocked by the sight greeting him. In dumbfounded amazement, he stared at the blue-eyed blonde's image reflected back at him from the mirror. "That can't be me," he muttered in that alien soprano voice even as that blonde in the mirror mouthed his every word.

Stan couldn't believe what he saw. He... that girl... had sparkling blue eyes... long blonde hair that flowed over his shoulders. He had a figure to just die for. And a pair of tits that were larger than Annie's. The more he looked at his reflection, the more he realized his mother was wrong. He hadn't become merely pretty; he was now a stunning beauty. If he'd had a sister, Stan had long imagined she would look just as he did now.

But that girl in the mirror wasn't him. Even though he knew his manhood had somehow gone AWOL, long blonde hair and a pair of big tits didn't make him a woman. His appearance to the contrary, he was still a man. "What have you done to me!" he demanded of his parents.

"Isn't it obvious, dear? Your father's spell has made you a girl. I've always wanted a daughter, you know," replied Stan's mother as calmly as ever. "Your father and I talked it all over last night after he bought the book of spells. You've become far too willful, dear. This is for your own good; you'll see. We decided you should be our daughter instead of our son."

"You can't be serious. This is a bit extreme; isn't it? I don't want to be a girl." Stan couldn't believe his ears. His parents had used some kind of magic spell to change him into his own sister. "Why?" he finally asked.

"I told you I wouldn't let you marry that gold digging bitch," replied Frank. "The spell will prevent you from marrying that gold digger!"

"I'm also sure that girl will find some other nice boy to sink her claws into, dear. That kind of girl always does," added Marion. "But that will be his parents' worry not ours." Marion smiled at her transformed son. "And don't you worry, dear. When the time comes for you to marry, we'll find you a really nice boy."

Stan shook his head. "I should have known Annie was your reason," snapped Stan. "When I get married, I'm not marrying some other boy, mom. Nor am I remaining a girl very long." Stan started smiling. "If dad can change me into girl with some magic spell, then there must be a spell in that damn book to change me back. All I've gotta do is find it. Annie and I will still get married once I'm a man again."

"I wouldn't bet on it, dear," said Marion calmly. "Since your father and I knew you weren't likely to be happy becoming a girl, there was another spell cast that changes your reality. Very soon your mind, as well as your body, will be that of our daughter."

"No! You can't do that!" objected Stan.

But despite his protestations, Stan soon began feeling light-headed. "Oh my! What's happening?" he mumbled, barely aware he spoke at all. Thoughts he knew weren't - had never been - his, yet somehow were - had always been - began invading his mind. Stan tried without success to fight what was happening. What had been was being inexorably woven into something entirely different.

And then it was over.

As if just awakening, the girl slowly shook her head. She glared at her parents. "I don't know what you and daddy thought you were up to, mother, but it didn't work." A smile spread slowly across the pretty blonde's face. "I'm still your daughter Stacey, just like I've always been."

"Of course you are, Stacey dear," replied Marion, who glanced over at Frank and smiled. "You'll always be my child."

"You'll just have to accept the fact you and daddy can't stop me from marrying Andy."

"Andy?" puzzled Marion.

"Who the hell's Andy?" demanded Frank.

"That's rich, daddy," smiled Stacey. "You can pretend you don't know Andy all you want, daddy, but that's not going to keep me from marrying him."

"But you can't marry that man."

"Of course I can, daddy. It's my life, not yours," replied Stacey. "Since I'm tired of always arguing with you, daddy, I'm going over to Andy's." With that Stacey turned and headed for the door. "Don't wait up for me. I think I might be spending the night with Andy."

"Come back here, young lady!" demanded Frank. "We're not finished with this."

"Yes, we are," smiled Stacey, as she strode out the door.

"What happened, dear? Stacey's more willful than Stan was."

"Shut up, Marion!" shouted Frank. "I'll just have to adjust things a little with another spell."

But the Book of Spells no longer sat on the coffee table where Frank had set it.