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Saving Each Other

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Bdsm

*Note to readers: I received a lot of emails asking me to write another story like “When Love Gets Corny.” I also had a couple of requests for another chapter of that story. Not sure about another chapter, but here’s a similar story with a happy ending.

*****

“Preston-san, I’m wish to talk with you.”

“Hai, so-sensei.”

“Please to sit down.”

Alex Preston bowed, then took a seat in front of Matsaharu Akihito, the grandmaster of Shorin-ryu karate-do. One never said ‘karate’ without the additional word ‘do’ because that word meant ‘way’ in Japanese. The word karate meant ‘open open’ and Sensei Akihito taught the Way of the Open Hand. He’d done that in his native Okinawa for 20 years and for the last 15 in the United States when he and his wife moved to Seattle, Washington. Alex had been one of his original students and one of only two who’d continued to study under his tutelage. He was now a fourth-degree black belt or ‘yon-dan’, a very significant accomplishment. Unlike modern karate studios which guaranteed a black belt after 18 months or maybe two years, every rank had to be earned under the watchful eye of the grandmaster. This was evidenced by the fact the other original student was still a ni-dan, or second-degree black belt after the same number of years of study.

“I know you have many problems, Preston-san. You and your brother own business. Business take much time. Your wife go down bad path and now you raise daughter alone. So much pain is coming up, nay?”

“Hai, so-sensei. It has been a very difficult time for Allie and me. My brother is picking up the slack at work, but I’m finally starting to do better and Allie will be starting school next week. That means I can get back to work full-time again.”

“Ah so! This is good news, Preston-san. But here in dojo, you not focus. You are best student I ever teach in America and only one student in Okinawa better than you. But you are very close to test for go-dan, but this is…how you say? Oh, yes. Intense. This is intense test. You must have perfect focus. Perfect timing. Perfect execution. Wakari mas ka?

“Hai, so-sensei. I understand completely. Do you really think I’m ready to test for 5th-degree black belt?”

“Do you not trust my judgment, Preston-san? Never one time do I give away promotion to any rank. Not once. If you not ready, I not tell you you are ready. But to pass, you must have good chi, nay?”

“Yes, of course I trust your judgment, so-sensei. You’ve been more than an instructor of karate-do, you’ve been like a second father to me. I not only trust you, I respect you.”

“So you must focus. All mental energy in one place. This is powerful force, Preston-san. But only if you can harness all chi in one point. One month. We test. Okay?”

Preston stood, bowed deeply, and said, “Hai, so-sensei. Taihen arigato gozaimash’ta.”

Preston walked into the small daycare center at the dojo and found his daughter. “Hey, Bean! You ready to go?”

“Hi, Daddy! I can’t wait to go to school today! Can we go now? Please!”

“Honey, you’re not starting school today, remember? We’re just going to meet your teacher and find out what we need to buy you for when you do start school next week.”

“But I wanna go to school today!”

“Well, we are going to go to your school, you just won’t be going to school until next week.”

“That doesn’t make any sense!” she told him as she folded her arms to make her statement more definitive.

“No, I guess it doesn’t, does it, sweetheart?”

Alex Preston knew her mother couldn’t help, but as much as he loved his daughter, it was times like this he missed her most. Or at least having someone there to help him raise his daughter.

Allie was turning five the first week of school and she’d just barely made the cutoff date to start this year. She was a very precocious young lady who never seemed to sit still unless one counted sleeping, which technically speaking, wasn’t sitting.

Later that evening, as they got her ready to go to their first-ever open house, he tried not to be bitter. After all, he wasn’t the one who hooked up with an old boyfriend and he sure as hell wasn’t the one who started using meth. Bridget had been the love of his life—at least until Allie was born and even then she shared that place co-equally in his life. Between his job and his two girls, Alex didn’t need or want anything else with one exception. He still took time to go to the dojo 3-4 times a week, his only other passion in life, and karate-do was the one thing that had allowed him to keep it together during the past year. Other than that, he was content to head straight home and spend every moment with his wife and daughter.

He should have seen the warning signs when Bridget started going out at times that just didn’t fit. As with him, her schedule had been regular as clockwork. Being a stay-at-home mom was the one and only thing she wanted. Until he showed back up.

He was Bobby Franklin, Side Escort her college boyfriend and the only other man Bridget had ever loved. Alex had no idea he’d come back to the Seattle area after he’d gotten out of the Walla Walla State Penitentiary.

Back when he and Bridget were together, and before drugs stole his life, Bobby’d started using cocaine occasionally and after a lot of pleading and cajoling, he finally talked Bridget into trying it herself. Within six months, she knew she was at a serious crossroad as her addiction was getting to a point where it would soon control her if she couldn’t control it.

That’s when she’d met Alex. She’d hired him to do some remodeling at their apartment and on the second day he was there, he’d seen her in the bathroom doing lines. His brother was a doctor who’d worked with addicts of all stripes, so he knew not to confront her directly. He just quietly stood there until she saw him. When he asked if he could help, she of course, denied she’d even done it immediately. She tried telling him it wasn’t what he thought. When she knew he knew it was, she told him it was only the second time. When that lie fell apart, so did she.

He drove her to his brother’s practice and he helped her get into a rehab facility that same day. Alex went there to check on her every day for the next two months while Bobby never showed up even once. In fact, once he learned what had happened, Bobby’d gone down a very dark road. What had, for him, began as the occasional line of cocaine, gradually became a vicious habit. Now that Bridget, the only stability he had left, was gone, his drug use quickly spiraled out of control. To support it, Bobby turned to selling cocaine along with methamphetamine. Once he began using meth, he could no longer keep either his addiction or his new ‘business’ together, and he began making foolish mistakes which resulted in his arrest and conviction followed by a ten-year bid in prison. He was out in seven.

Bridget was one of the first people Bobby contacted after his parole officer. Bridget was a fixer and while she hated sneaking around behind her husband’s back, she swore her role would be limited to helping Bobby find a job and a place to live. Alex was finally making very good money after his business got established, so Bridget was able to pay the first and last month’s rent on an apartment in the Capitol Hill district without her husband’s knowledge.

Within a week, Bobby was back to using and well on his way to getting hooked up to deal again. When Bridget learned what he was doing, she was livid. She went off on him. She played every card she could to try and guilt him into giving it up. Instead, he tugged on every heartstring of hers to include the one about how good they’d felt when they were using. Bridget had never forgotten that feeling. The intense high and the endless energy. The first time she returned to her long-lost friend, she only did a single line and went home, promising herself that would be it. But she was back with him the next day doing two then three. With days, she was using full-time and that’s when Bobby turned her on to meth. Taken with coke, it was the most amazing high she’d ever felt and she spent every day trying to recapture that first experience until one day Alex got a call from social services followed by a visit from the police.

Bridget took Allie with her when she got high. When it was ‘just’ cocaine, she could function perfectly well and still care for her daughter. But after the first time she did meth, that was it. Meth became the only thing that mattered and it was only a matter of time until her formerly perfect life unraveled.

She was given probation and rehab for her first offense, but like Bobby, she was as mentally addicted as she was physically. As soon as she was out of rehab, she was back on meth within 48 hours and as a result, she’d lost all parental rights by failing to show up for three different court-ordered hearings on custody. Alex didn’t even know whether or not she was alive or if she was, where she might be.

“Okay, you ready to go to school?” he asked.

Allie turned to him and said, “You said I wasn’t going to school until next week!”

Alex ran his hand through his thick, dark hair and said, “Okay. You got me there. How about we go meet your new teacher?”

As they pulled into the parking lot of Bright River Elementary School, one of the most prestigious—and expensive—private elementary schools in Seattle, Alex was thankful he had the resources to send his daughter there. He’d grown up poor. Dirt poor, in fact, in a very literal sense. His parents lived in a small, wooden shack on a gravel road out in rural Enumclaw and he remembered his mother holding his hand so he wouldn’t fall through the large holes in the floors. He also remembered asking her where the windows were as he looked around for the first time. His mom explained that until Dad had enough money to buy them, they’d have plastic Side Escort bayan instead of glass. He was too young to understand his father was an alcoholic and that his mother had just given him an ultimatum to quit drinking or lose his family.

To his credit, his father never took another drink. He moved them out to the country, bought this dump of a shack, and spent every hour after work fixing up the house. After a year or so, they had running water and indoor plumbing. That meant no more trips to the outhouse or carrying in water from the creek that ran along the back of their property line.

Alex could laugh now about living a Little House on the Prairie life, but he never forgot his roots. The bottom line was he was no stranger to poverty or hard times and he sure as hell wasn’t a snob. He just wanted the very best for his little girl. He couldn’t give her a mother, but he could give her the best education possible.

As they entered the building, there was a small table set up where parents could check in and find out where their child’s classroom was located.

“Good evening! Hi there, sweetheart! What’s your name?” the matronly woman at the information desk asked.

“Allie Preston,” she said very authoritatively.

“And are you going to be in Kindergarten, Miss Preston?” she asked her.

“Yes, because I’m turning five years old next week!”

“Oh, I see. Well, let me check.” She looked through her stack of papers until she found one with Allie’s name on it. “Oh, yes. Here you are. You’re going to be in Ms. Jackson’s class.”

She looked at Alex and told him, “Our Kindergarten area is down this hall and then all the way to the end after turning right. Ms. Jackson’s room is 128.”

Alex thanked her, took Allie’s hand, and led her down the long hallway passed the administration area then made a right turn. Allie’s room was at the very end of the hallway on the left. “Okay. Here we are.”

Alex let her go in ahead of him and saw several parents and their children talking with Ms. Jackson. Allie went straight to the other children and started making friends with a shy little girl he later learned was named Sarah.

Alex waited patiently to meet Allie’s first teacher and as he stood there he couldn’t help but notice how attractive she was. Alex didn’t care, but she happened to be black and she immediately reminded him of an actress on a television show he enjoyed watching. While he tried to recall her name, he noticed she was rather tall for a woman and that she had long, straight black hair, a gorgeous smile, flawless skin, and an amazing figure. He knew better than to even guess a woman’s age, but he was willing to silently venture she was somewhere between 25 and 30. Any thoughts he might have had about anything more than a parent-teacher relationship were ended before they started when he saw the huge diamond ring on her left hand. Then again, maybe that was a good thing. After all, he’d never dated anyone outside of his race. Then again, that was only because he’d never really met any black women who were single, available, and attractive to him while he was single and available.

As she chatted with the other parents, he was still trying to think of who it was she reminded him of. Then it hit him. She looked a lot like the girl who played Rachel on the TV show Suits. After a moment or two of trying to come up with her name, that also came to him. Her name was Meaghan Markle. Ms. Jackson wasn’t quite as light-skinned as ‘Rachel’, and she was quite a bit taller, but she was every bit as beautiful, and from what he could overhear, she was also very charming.

When his turn finally came, she extended her hand, smiled brightly and said, “Hi. I’m Kashawna Jackson. You must be Mr. Preston.”

“Wow. Beautiful and psychic,” he said returning her smile.

“Not really,” she assured him. “It’s just that I’ve said hello to all of my other parents so by process of elimination…”

“Okay. Somehow, that’s a relief. It would otherwise be a even more intimidating being around you.”

Kashawna raised an eyebrow as if to say, “Oh, really?”

“What I mean is well, if you could also read minds, the playing field would be even less level than it already is.” He stopped and said, “I don’t often babble. But then, I can’t remember the last time any woman made me feel this way.” He looked down at her ring finger again then quickly added, “I’m sorry. I can assure you I didn’t mean it like that.”

She moved her left hand slightly, took a quick glance at it, then said, “Things aren’t always what they seem, Mr. Preston.”

Just then, Allie came running over and grabbed her daddy’s hand. “Oh, hey there, Bean. This is your teacher, Ms. Jackson. Can you say hello?”

“Hello!” she said loudly. “I’m Allie and I’m gonna be five in one more week.”

“Oh! That’s wonderful. You really are a big girl then, huh? Are you excited about going to school?”

“Yes. I can’t wait Escort Side to do my ABCs. Wanna hear me?” Before Kashawna could answer, Allie started singing, “A, B, C, D, E, F, G…”

“And I can count a hundred. Wanna hear me?”

This time, Alex picked her up and said, “How about we save that for next week, okay?”

“Okay. Can I go play?” she asked.

He sat her down and watched her run off.

“She’s beautiful,” Ms. Jackson told him.

“Thank you. She really is. She takes after her mother. So that means she’s also a handful. It’s been kind of hard without her mother around, but we do the best we can, you know.”

“I did notice you didn’t list anyone under ‘spouse’ on her enrollment paperwork. It’s none of my business as long as we know whom to call. I believe your brother is listed as the secondary point of contact, if I recall.”

“Wow. That’s impressive. All these children and you know that kind of detail about them. Yeah, her mom’s no longer in the picture. It’s a long story and I’m sure it wouldn’t be of much interest to you. Besides, you probably need to talk to all of us as a group at some point and I’m over here monopolizing your time.”

“No, it’s fine, Mr. Preston. I not only find it necessary to meet each parent individually, it’s often very enjoyable. It’s been a pleasure meeting you and Allie. I’m always available, by the way. So if you ever have a question about anything at anytime, you can call, text, or email me depending on the your sense of urgency.”

“Thank you, Ms. Jackson. And same goes for me. Don’t hesitate to call me, either. For any reason.”

“I won’t. And please call me Kashawna when the kids aren’t around, okay?”

“I’d be happy to if you’ll call me Alex.”

She smiled and said, “Deal.” She turned and asked for everyone’s attention and let them know to have a seat so she could go over some administrative and academic concerns. Evidently Kindergarten wasn’t all about naps and snacks and coloring like it had been for him. Allie would be reading, writing, and even doing basic math. So much for the good old days. The good news is he felt like he’d be getting his money’s worth which was a good thing as tuition was well north of $12,000 a year.

The following Monday, Alex got Allie ready for her first official day at school. She not only had a lunchbox but a backpack. A backpack in Kindergarten! As they got ready to leave the house he said, “You like such a big girl with your lunchbox and backpack.”

Allie stopped and told him, “That’s because I AM a big girl.” He couldn’t argue with her. Growing up without a mother meant she’d have to grow up fast. He was amazed at how resilient she was. She still remembered her mother, but the memories were fading fast. She seemed to be doing quite well without her, though. It wasn’t ideal, but for now, at least, it was their reality.

When they got to school Alex said, “Can I walk you to class on the first day?”

“Well, I guess,” she said as she opened her own door and slid out.

When they got to the room, Alex immediately noticed Kashawna’s left eye looked bruised and puffy. As he said goodbye to Alex, he caught Ms. Jackson’s attention and she waved to him. “Mr. Preston! Good morning. Nice to see you again.”

He’d actually been hoping to have the chance to see talk with her again, but he felt very uncomfortable as he walked toward her. He did his best not to stare, but it was so…in his face.

She saw him glance at it and said, “Oh, that’s nothing. We were playing softball this weekend and I took a pretty good shot.” She reached up and touched it and said, “It’s a little tender, but it’ll be fine.”

Alex had seen that kind of injury before. Yes, it could be caused by getting hit with a ball at high speed, but that wasn’t the most common cause. “Softball? It’s a little late in the year for that, isn’t it?”

“Not for us. We’re a very athletic family.” As they were talking, the principal came in and was waiting for Ms. Jackson to finish speaking.

“Good morning! I’m Evelyn Dupray. It’s nice to meet you,” she said extending her hand. “Ms. Jackson’s family does play a lot of sports. Did you know her husband played defensive end for the Seahawks?”

Kashawna stepped in and said, “It was just for one year, Evelyn. He’s moved on from football and trying to get established in a second career now.”

Alex looked at her eye again and said, “Changing careers can be very stressful.” He could tell the principal wanted to speak with her so he excused himself. “I don’t want to keep you and I do need to get to work. I’ve pretty much left everything to my brother all summer so I should go try and actually earn some money.” He started to turn away when he said to Kashawna, “Ms. Jackson? I meant what I said when I told you you could call me anytime.” She smiled at him and thanked him. Then he added, “Or for any reason.” He nodded to both of them and walked out.

He didn’t give the matter much thought until two weeks later when Allie told him Ms. Jackson hadn’t been in school all week. Friday morning when he dropped her off on his way to work, he saw Kashawna getting out of her car. Her left arm was in a sling and she had a very similar kind of injury to her other eye.

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Girlfriend with Testing Device Ch. 06

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Asian

Author’s Note: This is part six of my smutty romantic comedy series. This chapter is the final chapter of the Mall Arc, and while it’s not the sexiest, its got lots of crazy swaps going on. The next chapter marks the beginning of the Strip Club arc, where things start to get way sexier.

=-=-=-=-=

Warning: this chapter is rated a swap-happy R and includes (amongst other things), boobs, shoe shopping, sibling rivalry, parental swaps, boy bands, fashion, emotional maturity, emotional immaturity, hair swaps, high heels, higher heels, snooty fashionista bullies getting their comeuppance, random chaos, and a pair of crazy mixed up kids trying to do right by the world.

Girlfriend with Testing Device

– A Smutty Fanfiction, of Sorts –

= Part 6 — Malls well that ends Well =

So, looking back, the rest of the mall trip was a little hit or miss. It actually wasn’t so bad until we got to the food court, but damned if that chaos doesn’t kind of put a damper on the whole day.

Knowing what I know now I guess it wasn’t so bad. No one really got hurt (that didn’t deserve it, anyway,) and despite all the chaos, it was, well, kind of fun. Sure, the device got a little misused, but it’s not like we were being, well, evil about it or anything. No, after seeing first hand just what sort of pain that thing can cause, I know that what we were getting up to was child’s play in comparison.

But I guess I’m getting a bit ahead of myself. Where was I?

Right. The rest of the mall trip was a little hit or miss. Despite all of that heartache about losing Evan’s body language and me being a terrible person with no self-control, we only had to go through, like, two more stores before we encountered my next victims.

Even ignoring his new sexy walk, shoe shopping with Evan was an experience to remember. He had this amazing tendency to go straight for the store’s highest heels. I have no idea how he managed to move around in them. I mean, I certainly hadn’t swapped anyone’s shoe proficiencies around, and yet he had no trouble bounding around in them like they were sneakers, showing off time and time again how crazy sexy his long shapely legs were.

My guess is that sometimes the device does weird things in order to keep people from just kind of falling over. Like, despite my center of balance being completely different with my new boobs and ass, I had no problems walking, and when I’d been wearing those fuck-me heels last night, I hadn’t had any trouble moving around in them at all. I don’t know if it’s a safety feature or some kind of just a quality of life thing. Don’t get wrong, I was grateful for it, but it made it hard to figure out if this was something I was somehow responsible for or not.

Evan, for example, kept insisting on trying on heels much higher than the ones either of us had been wearing last night and they weren’t even slowing him down. What was causing that? Was it the wardrobe swap? That would have given him as much experience with heels as I had previously, wouldn’t it? And the stuff he was wearing now was a whole other level from anything I’d ever tried before. Did the device considered shoe skill a form of body language? When we met back up with that girl would we find her unable to walk in anything higher than flats? Or was this just the device being generous? If the latter than why the heck wasn’t it doing anything to help me?

While Evan darted around the store (practically pirouetting at one point), I was doing that one thing that I’d always nagged at him about: erring on the side of comfort over fashion. In truth I had actually chosen several rather cute looking shoes, but whatever magical superpowers Evan’s calves seemed to have developed had apparently decided to give me a pass. I’m one of those girls who likes her heels low and respectable, the kind of thing you only really break out for special occasions. I certainly didn’t have the skills required for the 5+ inch stilettos Evan kept trying to get me to try on.

I mean, I tried the first few pairs, of course, but after falling flat on my enormous tits I realized it just wasn’t happening.

In the end I decided to just take advantage of the fact that going for smaller heels gave me a better variety of shoes to choose from, especially now that I had daintier, more normal-sized feet instead of my old annoyingly short and wide ones.

Honestly, I think I deserve credit for not swapping my heel skill with one of the girls who looked like they were regulars there. I was proud of myself for that. That took a lot of restraint. Especially with some of the weird bitchy looks they were giving me.

The saleswoman, an older lady who was a little overly supportive of my desire to wear female footwear, seemed amazed that I could walk in heels at all. I had tried to leave with just a variety of sexy flats and a pair of sneakers, but she had insisted that I’d want stuff with a bit of heel and flash on it when we went out on the town. She was right of course, but I was hardly in the mood to urfa escort admit it at the time.

Truth be told, part of the reason I was hesitant to really try stuff on was because I was finding myself increasingly troubled by my new jeans. I hadn’t thought too much about it when I’d tried them on, but it turns out that there’s a certain amount of space that a dick as big as mine requires that ultra-tight pants don’t really afford.

Maybe it was just the girly cut, or the fact that my dick was so naturally huge, but I felt like I had more cock and ball bulge going on than I had cleavage, and while the support was nice, I kept having to stop and make awkward adjustments, and that’s when I wasn’t hard as a rock from ogling my inconveniently sexy boyfriend. At least I was wearing appropriate underwear.

Having seen the best of both worlds, it is, in my professional opinion, totally weird that girls are the ones wearing skirts instead of guys. Pants are great, but when you need to make room for a great big dick, skirts are totally the way to go.

We made our way out of the shoe store. When we had entered that store, Evan was standing shorter than me. When we left, we were standing eye to eye. Not that I was looking at his eyes, of course, not with the way his long, silky legs were looking. We had started to accrue bags, and as strong as I’m sure Evan believed himself to be, I felt obligated to help out, even if it was just so I could have an excuse to watch the way Evan’s little skirt waved back and forth with every step.

We were just making our way over to a fourth shoe store when I saw them. It was that same pair from earlier — the bratty kid and his sister, the one who had been staring up my skirt on the elevator. The two of them were standing outside one of those stores that used to be a music store, but now mostly just sold DVDs and band paraphernalia. I don’t know if it was my familiarity with them or the fact that they were still so poorly dressed from the height swap, but the way they stood out was enough to draw my attention away from even Evan.

They had just come out of the store. I assumed by its comfortable fit that the heavy metal t-shirt the kid now wore must have been a recent purchase. The sister, conversely, seemed to have some kind of boy-band poster sticking out of her bag.

They were arguing about something, but I was too far away to really make it out. I guess arguing isn’t quite the right word. Arguing implies a back-and-forth parity. This was the brother yelling about something while the sister kind of stood there meekly and took it. Based on the way he was gesturing to the stuff they had just bought, and based on the girl’s reaction, I assumed that he was making fun of the girl’s musical tastes.

Despite — or perhaps because of — his smaller size, the older brother seemed to be using some pretty strong words. Whatever he was saying, the girl looked like she was on the verge of tears.

Okay, that pissed me off.

I just could not believe that this kid was still being an asshole to his sister. It made my blood boil. Sure, a part of it was that I had taught this kid a lesson twice already, but I also couldn’t help but remember how shitty my own brother had treated me when we were their age. If the shoe was on the other foot, this shit would never happen. I needed to deal with this kid once and for all.

I pulled out the device, but hesitated. I could feel that old familiar struggle inside me. This was the feeling I got when I knew deep down that I was going to wind up getting that second desert after all, the feeling that all the platitudes and bargaining in the world wasn’t going to do anything to make things better. It was that feeling where you know you should be doing something good, like working out or studying, but instead you just can’t work up the will to stop lazing around on the couch. I hated that feeling, and yet there I was, helpless to it.

After what felt like an eternity of arguing with myself, I began setting the dials. A part of me reasoned that at least it was a justifiable use of the device, but deep down I knew that that excuse was pretty hollow.

Carefully I dialed in my selection. This would be a pretty easy one, I figured. If I swapped their taste in music, then he wouldn’t be able to tease her about it, right? The fact that a kid his age probably wouldn’t be caught dead listening to boy-bands seemed like an acceptable additional layer of punishment. Would he consider it his dirty little secret, or would he be as open about it as the metal? I wondered if this would swap the intensity of their love of music too?

I grinned as I took aim, imagining him as one of those screaming fangirls you see at all the concerts and stuff, then I pressed the button.

I don’t know why, but I was expecting them to have, at the very least, swapped shirts. After all, what kind of convoluted explanation could this kid’s new memories have for why he was now wearing a shirt of his sister’s favorite band? balıkesir escort The only difference was that after a few seconds she had handed him the bag with the poster in it. I guess it was his now? Okay, so it had worked at least. I let out a breath that I didn’t realize I had been holding.

It seemed however, that swapping their tastes around had done nothing to resolve their little argument. In fact, the kid seemed a great deal less happy now. Still, the argument continued. I guess now he was going on about how his pop music was better than her metal? Typical.

Okay, so that hadn’t worked. What else could I do to fix this?

Honestly, I didn’t really think it would matter what I did, the topic of the argument was probably immaterial. He was just one of those big brothers who liked to make his sister feel like shit because it made him feel like a big man. She was probably going to take everything way too seriously and wind up crying herself to sleep that night and grow up with low self esteem because she got told how crap she was at everything all the time by one of the few people she actually looked up to and cared about.

I took a deep breath. Maybe I was projecting just a bit. But still, the problem seemed ingrained into their very roles.

Maybe I could swap their ages around? If he was acting like a little brat I sure as hell could make him one. But, no, they wouldn’t even realize anything was different, would they? And it would be like having the girl give up a chunk of her childhood just so her asshole brother could have it. Uhg, no thanks.

No, this called for something a little more complex, something a little more subtle.

I think that while I had sort of begun to realize that the device could basically do anything I wanted it to, I was still having trouble taking that and really thinking outside the box with it. I must have sat there fiddling with the controls for a good few minutes before it hit me. If it was subtle I needed, it was subtle I could do.

I smiled. If this worked the way I expected… oh man, it opened up a whole other world of possibility. Besides, if it didn’t, then at least I’d have found the devices limits. That was good too, right?

“Alright punk,” I said mostly to myself as I raised my finger to the button, “let’s see how you like it for a change.”

With a louder than normal zzzzttttt, the device was suddenly painfully hot in my hand. I winced in surprise, but managed to avoid dropping it. I plopped it down quickly into my bag as I shook out my hand.

Fuck, I hadn’t broken it had I? This had happened before, but it hadn’t been that bad. It had been working fine just a little while ago. Why was it so hot now?

Luckily my hand didn’t seem too badly burned and the thing didn’t appear to be on fire or melting or anything. I certainly didn’t smell any smoke. Still, if it was damaged internally I would have no way of knowing, and if it was malfunctioning, well… I think this was pretty much the last thing in the world I’d want getting buggy.

I looked around to see if anything weird had happened, but everything seemed normal. I just prayed that everything seeming normal was not part of the weird stuff going on. For all I knew, this thing could… I don’t know… make it so everyone went around naked all the time or something and I wouldn’t even notice. Or, I guess, it could make it so that everyone walks around with clothes all the time, but in this scenario the naked thing is the original normal. Gah.

Completely oblivious to how close everyone could have just been to a total reality shift, everyone continued to walk around on their hands, legs dangling in the air like nothing had happened. Off in the distance I could see a toddler scolding her parents for something and a dog taking her owner for a walk.

Whoa, hey, relax, I’m joking. None of that last bit happened. Everything really was normal, near as I could tell.

The brother and sister seemed… well, it had worked, I guessed. The girl had reached down and taken the boy-band poster away from her brother and was now teasing him with it by holding it just out his reach, a familiar reversal from before I had swapped their heights around. To my delight, the older boy now seemed completely defanged against the stronger force of his younger sister’s will. He was still angry, of course, and was stomping his foot in frustration, but it was an impotent rage. His harsh words replaced by a meek resignation regarding his inability to get his stuff back or, really, to have any meaningful defense against his sister’s assaults. I imagined this sort of thing happened all the time now. I could even see tears starting to well up in his eyes. I silently hoped I hadn’t overdone it.

“Okay,” said Evan, snapping me back to reality. “What are you up to?”

“Um.” I looked down at the device in my bag. He must have noticed me fumbling the thing around. I guess I was hardly being subtle with it. I’m just glad the thing was relatively unassuming. trabzon escort People not noticing their swaps was one thing, but when you waved a weird device around, well, that can be a little suspicious. Always swap your victims from a safe, unseen location. If I ever wrote a book about this, that would be rule number one. I would come to learn that lesson the hard way. I’m just glad it wasn’t shaped like a remote control or a gun or something else that people would instinctively notice if you started pointing it at them.

“Oh, um.” I faltered a little. Shit. I had just broken my promise to myself, hadn’t I? “That brat over there had been teasing his sister and it was really pissing me off, so I uh,” I smiled nervously, “I swapped them around a little bit. I think. It’s kind of complicated.”

“Who?” he said, looking over. “That girl over there?”

“Yeah.” I smiled.

“It looks like she’s still teasing her little sister.”

“What? No, no,” I said, following his gaze “that’s the sight of justice.” I was half-heartedly trying to re-affirm my logic that this had been a good idea. “It was the other way around before.”

“Like, you swapped their ages around?”

“I had thought about doing that, but no. Close though. I turned the younger sister into the older brother.”

He tilted his head a little, eyes still glued to the pair. “Like, you swapped them around completely?”

“What? No. I swapped which one was the brother. Like, just their roles.”

His eyes widened slightly as he raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t know it could do that.”

“Me neither. Well, I suspected. I wasn’t really sure until I tried.”

“So, wait.” Evan squinted slightly. “Sorry. I’m having a hard time taking this one in for some reason. You’re saying…That that girl’s little sister, the one that she’s playing keep away with –“

“Is actually her older brother, yes, and he still has the body, mind and (presumably) the life of a teenage boy who is older than his female sibling, despite now being his younger female sibling’s younger sister.”

“Right.” He said, nodding slightly. “Okay, that’s what I thought.”

There was a pause as Evan continued to nod, processing this information.

“And you’re saying that was something you did with the device?”

“Oh my god.” I put my palm up to my face. “Yes!”

Evan continued to eyeball the two.

“I guess…” he finally said, with a shrug that sent his tits bouncing, “I guess I’ll have to take your word for it?”

I let out an sigh.

“Okay,” I said “you not knowing about the swaps I made to you is one thing, but how am I supposed to talk to you about this stuff if you don’t even believe that I’m doing it? You’ve seen the thing for yourself. You know what it can do.”

He looked down, a little embarrassed.

“I guess it’s just a little hard to internalize. Like, logically, I know what you’re saying, but it’s like you’re telling me that you made the sky blue. I mean, it’s a big deal yes, but it’s something I’m going to have a hard time reacting appropriately to, you know? It’s like, you’re talking about him being older and male as though that excludes him from being her little sister, but I mean, come on, look at them.”

“Evan, by definition you cannot be older and male and still be the little sister.”

“Well, yeah, semantically, sure, but there he is, plain as day.”

I sighed. How far did the obliviousness go? Did him being unaware of the changes go so far as to actively keep him from being made aware of them? Or was he just being thick? Dear lord, I loved him, but he could be a little thick sometimes.”

“Okay.” I sighed. “we’re not getting anywhere with this. New rule: no using the device unless we’re both aware of the change. That way we this sort of thing doesn’t happen again.

“I thought you didn’t want it getting used at all?”

“I don’t! But like, when I do, I’m not allowed to use it unless we’re both touching it, okay? If you see me taking it out, I want you to call me out on it. We can be in this together or not at all.”

“Baby,” he said, smiling “you’re a good person. You don’t need my permission to use that thing. I trust you to not make any rash decisions when it comes to — “

“No, Evan, stop. I appreciate what you’re saying and I am glad that you trust me, but I don’t trust myself anymore. I feel like I’ve been making rash actions all day and I clearly don’t have the willpower I need to be a moral agent about this.”

“See, I don’t believe that. Sure, things don’t always work out the way you had intended, but you always mean well. You just need to believe in yourself.”

“That’s the problem!” I cried, “I do believe in myself. I believe in myself being entirely unable to resist the urge to turn you into some kind of sex toy the next time the opportunity comes up.”

A seductive smile broke over Evan’s stupid sexy lips. “If you want me to be your sex toy, baby…”

“Uhg, that’s the problem,” I said, biting my lip, “God, I really do. Look, Evan, this is important to me, okay? I need you to promise that you’re going to keep me in line and that you’re going to be here with me throughout all the strangeness. Its… its bad enough that I keep changing you,” I could feel myself choking up a bit “I’m worried that I… that I’m changing too. And I need you to help keep me grounded.”

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