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My Best Friend The Witch: Dancer
🕑 Added 2023-05-31 21:18:57 +0000 UTCMy best friend is a witch, a real spell-casting witch. I know you probably think that sounds cool, like Esme and I must have lots of fun adventures with her magic. I wish. Most often, I just feel terrified of her. She’s frighteningly powerful, as well as dangerous, reckless, and cruel.
Let me give you an example of what I mean.
***
One day, I came home with her and found my little brother home alone. Adrian tensed up when he noticed us enter the living room. Although he was lying on the couch with the TV on, he did not seem to have been watching it. He worriedly pressed the screen of his phone to his chest, apparently hiding it from us.
“H-hi,” he said, standing up and pocketing his phone. “I was just about to go upstairs and… do some homework.”
He walked out of the room and ran upstairs before either of us could respond.
“What was that all about?” Esme asked, taking a seat on the couch he had just vacated.
I sighed, knowing all too well what he was up to in his room at the moment. “He’s not doing homework,” I said.
“Oh?” Esme asked, intrigued. “What is he doing?”
I shook my head. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Come on,” Esme whined. “Tell me.”
“Well,” I said, trying to choose my words carefully. “He’s at… that age, now.”
“What?”
“He’s a growing boy.”
Esme just stared, curiously.
“Do I have to spell it out?” I asked.
Esme nodded.
“I knocked on his door one time last week to tell him dinner was ready. When he didn’t respond immediately, I opened the door, and I saw him in his bed… doing… something.”
Esme looked confused a moment. Then, realization hit her. “Oh!” she said. “So he was…”
I nodded. “Fortunately, he had his covers pulled up, but I could see his hand moving under them.”
“Oh my God!” Esme said, excitedly. “What did he do when he saw you?” She smiled, delighted by the humiliating situation.
“He screamed at me to ‘get out!’ And, I left. After that, we just both pretended that it didn’t happen.”
Esme looked up at the ceiling. “So,” she said, “you think that right now he’s in his bedroom… doing it again?”
“Probably,” I said, not wanting to even think about it.
“I wonder,” Esme said as her cruel imagination sprung into action. “Do you think he has a type?”
“Can we change the subject,” I begged.
“How can you not be curious?” Esme asked. “You never wonder who he’s thinking about?”
“No more,” I pleaded, but I could tell she was preparing to take this too far, as usual.
“We could find out,” she said, smiling.
I shook my head, but I knew I was helpless to stop her now.
“One little spell,” Esme explained. “I can transform him into whoever he’s thinking about right now.”
“Please, don’t,” I said, dreading where this was going.
“What are you worried about?” she replied. “Do you think he might come downstairs looking like me?”
“No,” I said.
“Or, you?” Esme grinned.
I cringed.
Esme chuckled. “Let’s find out,” she said, her eyes lighting up with a green glow. I felt the familiar charge in the air that happened when her magic activated. A burst of power shot upwards through the ceiling towards Adrian’s room. Then, there was a moment of quiet anticipation as we listened for his response.
“Oh my God!” cried a muffled woman’s voice from upstairs.
Esme giggled as she eagerly stared down the hallway, watching the foot of the stairs, waiting to see who would walk down them.
I watched as well out of morbid curiosity.
We heard footsteps descend down them and then a scantily-clad woman stepped out into the hallway. She had a gorgeous face and an athletic physique, her shoulder-length hair dyed an unnatural hue of red that complimented her darker skin tone. Wearing only pink lingerie with a pair of pink high-heeled sandals dangling from one hand, she appeared to have walked straight out of an erotic photo shoot. The only indication that she was not who she appeared to be was the terrified look in her eyes.
“Wh-what did you do to me?” the sexy woman asked as she walked into the living room.
“Wow,” Esme said, looking over Adrain’s new body. ”I have to admit I’m a little disappointed that you’re not someone I recognize, but I am kind of impressed. At the very least, I was expecting some giant titty porn star.”
“Esme,” I said in as gently a disapproving tone as I could manage. “Now that you've seen who he became, turn him back to normal.”
“Wait,” Adrian said, looking down at his lingerie, apparently recognizing it for the first time. “You turned me into Jazmin?”
“Is that her name?” Esme asked. “You’d think she’d be called Scarlet or Ruby with hair like that.”
“Turn me back,” Adrian begged, squirming in discomfort at his older and exaggeratedly feminine body. “I feel really weird.”
“Come on,” Esme said, smiling. “Weren’t you just fantasizing about touching her body? Well, now you can, and nobody can stop you.”
“This is not what I wanted,” he said, crossing his arms and then uncrossing them when he felt them pressed against his above-average-sized breasts.
Esme chuckled, and I knew Adrian was in for more discomfort before this ordeal was over.
“So,” Esme said, “tell me. What about Jazmin caught your attention?”
“Esme…” he whined. “Do I have to?”
“If you want to go back to normal this week, then… yes.”
Adrian sighed and mumbled, something about dancing.
“What was that?” Esme asked.
“She’s a pole dancer,” Adrian explained a bit louder. “I watch her pole dancing videos.”
“A dancer?” Esme said, grinning. “I bet she’s really talented. Why don’t you show us some of her moves?”
“I’ve never done any dancing,” Adrian said. “I just watched her.”
Esme stood up and locked eyes with Adrian. “You know how she dances,” she said, her irises glowing faintly green. “Remember it all now.”
Adrian’s face went blank, and his eyes rolled back in his head as his mind obeyed Esme’s command. He must have been recalling everything he had seen Jazmin do.
“Good,” Esme said. “Now, you know how to do it as well. All of her moves are now your moves.” The glow faded from her irises, and she stepped back from Adrian. “Now,” she said. “Dance for us.”
Adrian appeared to wake up and looked around in confusion for a moment.
“Dance for us,” Esme repeated.
Adrian looked down at his feet and said, “I can’t. It’s too embarrassing.”
“A little stage fright?” Esme asked. “I can fix that.” Her eyes glowed even brighter than before. “You want to dance! You want to show off your moves to an audience,” she told him, her words echoing across the room, burrowing into his mind. Again, his face went blank as she took control of his thoughts. “There’s nothing in the world you want to do more than dancing. It’s your favorite thing.”
The magic glow in Esme’s eyes faded again, and she stepped back to make room for Adrian, who had already begun to gyrate his broad hips, finding a rhythm from music in his mind.
“Work it, girl!” Esme cheered as she took a seat to enjoy the show.
I tried to look away, knowing that Adrian was sure to still be embarrassed by what he felt compelled to do despite how much he appeared to be enjoying it, but there was something hypnotic about his dancing. It was impossible not to stare. The way he worked his body, flinging his limbs around, whipping his long hair, posturing to show off his tits and his ass, was so erotic that I started to feel sort of dirty watching it.
“Esme,” I said, after I finally managed to avert my eyes. “That’s enough, now.”
Esme stood up and walked past Adrian as he continued to shake his booty for us. “Come on,” she said. “Let's go get some shakes to drink. I’m feeling like a cold treat.”
I stood up and asked, “Are you going to turn him back, first?”
Esme shook her head. “Let him dance,” she said. “Can’t you see how much he’s enjoying himself?”
Adrian appeared oblivious to us, totally lost in the rhythm.
“Let’s go,” Esme said. “He’ll be fine here dancing by himself.”
I sighed and walked out of the room with Esme, leaving Adrian behind, still dancing like a possessed stripper.
***
We returned home about an hour later. I was expecting to find Adrian still dancing there, looking sweaty and worn out, but there was no sign of him.
“Adrian?” I called to the empty house.
There was no reply, only silence. Not even the faint sounds of dancing could be heard anywhere.
A quick check in the garage and upstairs confirmed that no one else was home. I called his phone and found it ringing on his desk in his bedroom, but there was no other sign of him. Adrian was missing.
“There’s no note. Nothing,” I said. “Where is he?”
“Don’t panic,” Esme replied. “We’ll find the brat.”
“But, where could he have gone, looking like that?” I asked, feeling a queasy fear in the pit of my stomach. “What if he’s in danger?”
Esme pulled a crystal out of her bag and held it up. Slowly, she turned in a circle, staring attentively at the clear gem as if she were using a compass. When she had almost completed a full rotation, the crystal glowed a faint green for a moment.
“There,” Esme said. “He’s that way.” She pointed at a wall.
“You can track him?”
Esme nodded. “My magic has a signature aura to it. I can track that aura, so long as it’s still fresh.”
“Let’s hurry, then,” I said, walking to the door.
“Hold on,” Esme said. “We’ll need to be traveling as the crow flies. If you’re coming with me, I’ll need to make some kind of sidecar for you to ride on while I’m flying on my broom.”
She headed into a bathroom, and when she returned, I knew I was in for a terrifying ride.
***
“I’m going to fall,” I cried, clinging to the edge of the bathroom carpet.
“You’re perfectly safe,” Esme said, riding confidently on her broom.
Although I knew I shouldn’t, I allowed myself to peek over the side of the carpet, to find that we were now flying higher than the tallest buildings in town. I shut my eyes and tried not to think about the air rushing past me, or how a stiff breeze might knock me off the magically levitating carpet, or how I was only connected to Esme’s broom by a short bit of nylon rope that was clipped to my carpet. If anything were to go wrong… No, I couldn’t even consider it.
Firmly shutting my eyes, I asked her, “Are we getting close?”
“We’re almost there,” Esme said. “I think he’s close to the airport. Kind of a rough neighborhood, here. Nothing to worry about, though.”
I felt the carpet begin to fall and yelped, thinking that I was about to plummet to my death, but I relaxed when I realized we were slowly but steadily descending.
“Well, I found the place,” Esme said. “I suppose we could have guessed he would be here.”
I was curious, but I kept my eyes shut until I felt solid ground beneath the carpet.
Finally, I peeked at the building in front of us and read the brightly lit sign on top of it. “Showgirls Gentlemen's Club?”
“Apparently, it’s ‘Amature Night.’ I guess they’re having auditions for new dancers,” Esme said, pointing at another sign that also promised a buffet meal.
My legs felt weak, but I staggered to my feet. “So, what do we do? Can you just undo the spell and get him to come out of there?”
“I won’t be able to reverse the spell unless I can get close to him,” Esme explained. “That’s no problem, though. I’ve got a plan.”
Knowing how Esme’s plans usually went, I was concerned. “What’s your plan?” I asked, bracing myself for her response.
Esme smiled. “First,” she said, “we knock on the back door. When someone comes to open it, I blast them with a spell. I’ve been working on this new bunny spell--fast-acting, short duration--and this feels like the right place to test it out. After that, we rush in, and I start bunny blasting anyone that gets in our way. You find your brother, and we’ll drag him out of there.”
“What if the bunny spell goes wrong?” I asked.
Esme hesitated, clearly having not considered that anything could go wrong. “Well,” she said. “We’ll have to think of a back-up plan.”
“How about we make the bunny plan the back-up?” I suggested. “I’ll just go in through the front door and tell them I need to talk to my big sister who is planning on dancing tonight?”
Esme shrugged. “Whatever,” she said, clearly irked that I came up with a simpler plan. “If you think that’ll work…”
I sighed. “Wait here,” I said. Feeling a bit nervous, I walked up to the front door, the lights in the parking lot turning on just as I made it there. I pulled the door open and stepped inside.
Before me in the dark entry hall was a cash register and a woman sitting on a stool behind a protective window, dressed in a top that showed off more of her breasts than it covered. She paid me no attention, but stared at her phone while smacking on gum.
I worked up enough courage to say, “Excuse me.”
She glanced at me for a moment and turned her eyes back to her phone. “Twenty-one years or older,” she said. “No kids.”
“I just wanted to see my br… sister,” I said, correcting myself. “I think she’s dancing tonight.”
“No kids,” the cashier woman repeated. “Call her or wait ‘till she’s done.”
“But…”
“Rick!” she yelled.
A man walked in through a doorway, which he was nearly wide and tall enough to fill. “Felicity?” he asked the woman in a rumbling deep voice.
“Tell the kid to get out,” Felicity, the cashier, ordered him.
Rick looked down at me and gestured with his arm towards the entrance door.
I nodded and hurried back out into the parking lot, feeling too intimidated to do anything else.
“So,” Esme said with a smug smirk on her face as I approached. “No luck?”
I shook my head. “They won’t even let me past the front door.”
“Hmm…” Esme said, watching as a man with graying hair walked up to the strip club door and entered.
I could see her thinking, and that worried me.
“I have an idea. I might be able to get you inside,” she said. Then, I saw her face brighten as another idea came to her. “After that, I think I have a way for you to turn your brother back to normal.”
I held off saying anything as I watched her open her bag and dig around inside for her tools, not wanting to agree to anything until I knew what she had in mind. I sat down on the rug and waited as she worked her magic.
***
“Ready!” Esme declared as she lifted a damp dollar bill into the air.
“What is ready?” I asked.
Esme waved the bill around to dry it and explained, “This is infused with a potion that will activate when it touches your brother’s skin.”
“That will reverse the spell on him?” I inquired, staring at it.
“It will,” Esme said. “And, pretty quickly, too. He’ll be back in his normal body in no time. After that, you just need to run out of there with him.”
“But,” I said, “how am I supposed to get in there in the first place?”
Esme smiled. “That’s the easy part,” she said. “I just need to make you look like you belong in there.” She glanced at the door as a middle-aged man entered the building.
“No,” I said, slowly shaking my head.
“Don’t worry. It’ll work,” she said. “Trust me.”
“I don’t want to be some gross old guy in a strip club.”
“What about your brother?”
I shrugged. “We’ll wait at the back door and… catch him on the way out. He’s got to come out eventually. I’d rather just wait.”
Esme sighed. “What if something happens to him in there?” she asked. “What if some man does something to him while he’s all confused? What if they have drugs in there? What if he manages to get away from us before we can turn him back?”
I listened, and I started to picture all of the things she suggested and even worse things as well.
“Are we just going to stand around doing nothing?” Esme asked.
I could tell she was not actually worried about his well being. She just wanted to use her magic again, but she was right. He was in some danger.
“Could you really leave him in there for a minute longer than necessary?” Esme asked.
I sighed and shook my head.
“Then,” she said, “Let me transform you. You just need to go in there, touch the dollar to him, and get him out. I’ll be waiting outside, ready to help, in case anything goes wrong. Okay?”
I nodded.
She smiled. “Okay, let’s get you into character.”
***
Minutes later, Esme was still busy drawing in chalk on the asphalt of the parking lot.
“Is it ready yet?” I asked, anxious to get this all over with, while trying to ignore the strange looks we were getting from the club patrons.
“Almost,” Esme said. “This is a bit more complicated than my normal spells. I’m not just transforming you; I need to get your mind ready to behave as a man. Also, you’ll need clothes to wear. All of that takes some extra preparation.”
I sighed. “I don’t know if I can do this.”
Esme did not respond. She just finished with her chalk and said, “Now, it’s ready.” She stood up, and I stood up with her. “Here we go.”
I steadied myself as her eyes glowed a brilliant green. I felt her magic flow into me, like a warm breeze, penetrating deep into my body. As many times as she has transformed me, I’ve never gotten comfortable with the sensation of her power moving inside of me, taking over me, changing me. I felt a pressure beneath my skin growing in intensity until it seemed as though my body was about to explode or stretch larger. Thankfully, I began to stretch larger.
My clothes seemed to shrink, becoming uncomfortably tight. As my viewpoint rose higher, I felt my toes getting crushed in my shoes, and I wondered what would break first, my feet or my footwear. I wondered why my clothes were not growing along with me as Esme said they would.
“Esme,” I said, grunting. “My shoes… I…”
Before Esme could say anything, my toes tore out of my shoes, and my tight clothes began to split open along the seams.
“Don’t worry,” Esme said, trying to sound confident. “The clothing changes should kick in soon… I think.”
After a short delay, that became true. My clothes expanded and reshaped to fit my nearly adult body. As the pain let up, I could pay attention to how my body was changing. I grew larger and more solidly muscular, while I felt some disturbing changes occurring between my legs. I realized then that, in all the times I had been transformed, I had never experienced a gender reversal before. My inside parts protruded to become outside parts. It was a tender feeling, like being hit in a sensitive place. I grunted, hearing how much deeper my voice had become.
The changes seemed to accelerate. Years of aging flew by, and my body seemed to stiffen and tire out. I was wearing down disturbingly fast, making me worry that I might crumble into dust if this went on much longer. My head swam, and I lost my train of thought. Then, it all came to a sudden halt, and I was just a middle-aged man standing in a parking lot beside a teen girl.
After a moment of confusion, as I tried to make sense of memories that conflicted with the reality of my body, I realized that I felt surprisingly comfortable as a man despite only being one for less than a minute.
“There,” Esme said. “How are you feeling?”
I held up a pair of rough hands and flexed my fingers, feeling the strength behind them. “These aren’t my hands,” I said, hearing a deep voice and not batting an eye at it. “I know that, but they don’t feel wrong. This body doesn’t feel wrong, and that worries me. What did you do to my mind?”
“I made it compatible with your body,” Esme explained. “We don’t have time for you to get used to being a man, so I helped you skip over that. Your mind feels comfortable in a male body. That’s the only change I made.”
I sighed. “Fine, then,” I said, realizing that I had gone too far to turn back now. “Give me the dollar. I’m going in.”
Esme handed the bill over and I pocketed it.
“Take this as well,” Esme said, giving me an impressively thick stack of dollar bills.
“Whoa,” I said. “Where’d you get all of that.”
“Don’t worry about it,” she said, waving away my concern. “Just get in there. I’ll be waiting outside, listening for any problems. If you need me, shout my name. Okay?”
“Okay,” I said. “Here I go.”
***
I walked over to the front door of the strip club and stepped inside. It was the same dark entry hall, same cash register, and same cashire woman. I found my eyes drawn to Felicity’s low top and all the tit flesh it revealed, that long line of cleavage... She turned her attention from her phone, still smacking on her gum, and smiled at me.
“Hello, sweetie,” she said, welcoming me. “Ready for a show?”
I nodded and stepped up to her, feeling a strange shift happening between my legs. Something seemed to be growing.
“First time?” she asked.
I nodded again.
Felicity explained the rules, and I had to fight to keep my eyes from drifting down below her face. Then, she requested a payment, which I paid, and handed me a drink ticket, reminding me to order a new drink every hour.
I smiled and headed deeper inside, walking past the hulking figure of Rick, who still seemed enormous. He glared at me, as if warning me to remember the rules.
Men cheered and applauded as I entered the dimly lit room. Looking toward the stage, I noticed a woman exiting and caught only a brief glimpse of her bare ass before she was out of sight.
“Sounds like you enjoyed the performance from Lady V.,” said an announcer over a PA. “There’s more to come soon, but we’ll be taking a brief break here, gentlemen. Make sure to get your drinks, and don’t forget to tip your waitress.”
Music began to play, and I immediately headed for the bar to beat the rush.
“What can I get you?” the woman bartender asked.
My mind drew a blank as I tried to think of the name of any adult drinks. “Uh,” I said. “Do you have something sweet, maybe?”
“Rum and cola?” she asked.
I nodded, figuring that I liked cola well enough.
She handed me my drink in exchange for my ticket, and I remembered to tip but made sure to hold on to the magic dollar bill. Then, I went over to find a seat right beside the stage, which felt a little too exposed. However, for the plan to work, I would need to be able to touch my brother. No hiding in the corner for me, even if I wanted to.
As I waited, hoping that Adrian would be next, I tested my drink, taking a light sip. It tasted like watered-down soda, but with a bit of a coolness to it that had nothing to do with temperature. That must have been the alcohol. I wondered what drinking the whole glass would do to me. I had never had a drink before, and I worried how I might behave if I started to get tipsy. Still, I wanted to fit in, and I would need to get another drink eventually if I had to wait a while for my brother’s turn on stage.
“Alright, gentlemen,” said the announcer, as I took a bigger sip. “Next up is the dazzling Doreen.”
Dance music started blaring, and a woman with bleach blonde hair emerged from backstage and strutted down toward the middle of the room, stopping at the pole on the stage. Although she was going through the motions of the performance, she seemed hesitant and nervous. She kept dancing, slowly shedding layers of clothes, but it was a clumsy and somewhat embarrassing display. The more skin she revealed, the more regretful she seemed. Somehow, though, she kept going. Why? I wondered. Was she pressured into doing this? I looked around the room, seeing the other men staring at her. They managed to find something sexual in her nudity despite her seeming like she wanted to be anywhere else right then. When the music finished, she forced a smile, gathered up her clothes, and hurried offstage. It was only after she had left that I realized that no one had given her any money.
As the announcer encouraged us to applaud, I finished my drink and felt a comforting warmth spreading through me that seemed to offset some of the sadness I had felt for that poor girl. I wanted more and a passing waitress was happy to collect my empty glass and promise to return with a full glass of the same.
There was another brief break that gave me a chance to look around the room again at the men there. Some were young men that joked and chatted with each other. The older men seemed less enthusiastic, waiting in quietly for some kind of excitement. I wanted to leave, but I had a drink coming and a brother to rescue. I could only hope he would be out soon.
***
Amature Night lived up to its name. Two more dancers came out. Neither was Adrian. Both were as disappointing as the previous dancer. One was hopelessly lacking in coordination and nearly fell off the stage. The other removed her shirt and quit seconds later.
I wanted to be somewhere else, but I had to sit there waiting for my brother. The rum was making it bearable, but I could feel myself beginning to drift as the alcohol went to my head. By the time I started on my third drink, I wondered if I should stop or at least slow down.
“Next up for your pleasure is the amazing, the astounding… Adrian,” declared the announcer.
I was halfway through a sip and nearly spilled my drink when I heard the music start blaring again. After a moment of hesitation that allowed anticipation to build, a gorgeous woman strode out onto the stage. I recognized her as Jazmin, my brother’s favorite dancer. The way she moved with such confidence and enthusiasm, it was hard for me to believe that that was actually my brother in that body. Every gesture she made oozed with sexual desire. The way she swung her hips and shook her ass. The way she leaned forward to display her tits. The way she looked at us all with hungry eyes. To a man, everyone was certain that she was dancing for him and him alone.
Such a contrast to all the amatures who had appeared before her. She seemed experienced, as though she had danced like this for years. There was no doubt or hesitation in her. Clearly, this stage was the one place she craved to be more than anywhere else in the world. She fed on the desire radiating from every man in the room.
It felt like she wanted me, and I wanted her back. I wanted to touch her body, to explore her ample curves. I wanted her to touch me back. I wanted…
Feeling my pants getting uncomfortably tight around the crotch, I realized what I had been thinking. I had been lusting after my own little brother. Logically, I could feel disgusted with myself. However, physically at least, this was not my brother on stage, and I was not his sister. The fog of alcohol and lust made it so I didn’t even recognize myself as female at that moment. I definitely felt male, and Adrian definitely seemed female. I was a man, horny for a gorgeous dancing woman. The young siblings who we had been felt like other people now, half-remembered children from another life.
When Adrian danced close to me, I pulled money from my pocket, ready to make an offering to the goddess who had blessed me with her divine body. It was the least I could do. I would rather have taken her in my arms and carried her off to bed with me, but even while overwhelmed by my drunken lust, I knew better than to break the club’s rules. I slid the bills into her garter, thrilled by the tingle I felt as the money and our flesh made contact together.
Then, just as I was feeling euphoric, things began to unravel. Adrian’s impressive body started deflating. He kept on dancing, even as his breasts and hips slimmed down, losing weight all over and shrinking a few inches. I could hear a murmur spreading through the crowd as they noticed Adrian’s hair getting shorter and his face appearing more boyish.
Had I been a little less drunk and not distracted by Adrian’s transformation, I might have noticed sooner that my own body was changing as well. The first indication was the tightness in my pants going away. Then, I felt my hair creeping down my forehead and neck. I held up my hands to see them looking less masculine and more girlish.
“Oh that’s not good,” I said, hearing my voice rising in pitch as I spoke.
The music cut out, and the audience had begun to boo and demand that Adrian “Get off the stage!”
I turned my attention back to him to find that he had fully reverted back into a boy, dressed only in a pair of panties and a garter stuffed with dollar bills. Despite that, he kept on dancing, seemingly unconcerned that he no longer looked the part of a stripper. It might have been a funny sight if it weren’t for the angry men yelling at him and the approaching bouncer.
I stood up and looked down at myself, recognizing that I had fully transformed back into my regular body and clothes. It felt strange to be a girl again so suddenly. I realized then that I now looked just as out-of-place as Adrian. Had I been less drunk, I would have panicked.
“Adrian,” I said, holding my hand out to him. “Come on. We’ve gotta get out of here.”
“Hold it right there,” said a deep voice, and I turned to see the goonish bodyguard, Rick, approaching. “I don’t know how you two got in here, but you’ve got some explaining to do.”
“We’re leaving,” I said as Adrian finally snapped out of his dancing trance and took my hand.
“No,” he said. “You’re coming with me.”
Adrian hopped down from the stage and stood beside me as I looked for an unguarded exit.
“Esme!” I screamed.
Moments later, I heard a “poof” sound and something tinkling like wind chimes. The sound repeated a few times, getting closer, drawing the attention of Rick and a few of his fellow bodyguards. A mist rolled into the room and several white rabbits came bounding out of it, followed by Esme, grinning with pride.
“Boys!” she cried. “Show’s over!”
A murmur spread through the crowd as Esme strolled up to the bodyguards who had just formed up at Rick’s flanks.
“Kid,” said Rick, crossing his arms. “You and your little friends have some explaining to do.”
“I don’t think so,” Esme said.
They stared each other down. Rick seemed not at all concerned, but he probably should have been, if only he considered for a moment how unusually overconfident the little girl in front of him appeared.
“I’m out of patience. Come with us.” Rick gestured to another bodyguard to approach Esme, who smiled as he stepped closer.
“Thanks for giving me an excuse to try something new,” Esme said, raising a hand up towards his face and spreading her fingers. “You like sexy ladies, right?”
Her eyes glowed bright green, and the bodyguard hesitated. Then, his height began to rapidly diminish as his body thinned down, losing muscle mass. His clothes shrank to fit his changing body, a rare consideration for Esme to make. Normally, clothes were only an afterthought in her transformations if she bothered to change them at all. This time, though, it was clear that the bodyguard was getting a whole new outfit in addition to his new body. Soon, it became clear that he was changing gender as well as shrinking. His hair grew longer and his chest and ass swelled larger, giving him an impressive hourglass figure. Meanwhile below, his sneakers became tall, high-heeled shoes. His dark t-shirt and pants transformed into a sexy lingerie combo of fishnet stockings and a green one-piece corset. A pair of fake bunny ears and a fake bunny tail appeared, and the costume was complete.
“What the…?” the sexy bunny woman said, but her voice trailed off as her eyes fixated on the line of cleavage that was prominently pushed up on her chest thanks to the support of her corset.
The other bodyguards stared in dumbfounded awe.
“What’s the matter, boys?” Esme said. “Are you jealous?” She raised her hands, and again her eyes glowed as she focused her magic on the rest of the bodyguards.
“Wait!” one of them begged, but it was too late. He had already begun slimming down into a more petite female body.
One of the other bodyguards attempted to run but tripped and fell to the floor when his shoe’s heels grew precariously high.
In the middle of the panicking bodyguards, Rick stood there like an impassive statue. He showed no sign that his feminizing body bothered him at all. The woman he transformed into was equally as imposing a figure as his original body, still standing taller than most of the men in the room.
“Enough tricks, little witch,” he said with a sultry female voice. “You’re coming with me.”
Rick reached for Esme with his well-manicured but strong fingers, and I was shocked to see a worried expression overtaking Esme’s smug smile. Having found someone not intimidated by her magic, she froze up in fear, like a frightened rabbit.
“Esme!” I screamed at her, desperately. “Bunny him!”
Esme snapped out of her fear, pulled a fragile vial of liquid from her pocket, and smashed it on the ground between Rick’s high heels. A mist erupted from the liquid, spreading out to contain the rest of the bunny women in a sparkly tinkling cloud. Then, they all began coughing as they inhaled the vapor.
Adrian and I edged around the cloud to stand behind Esme, who watched in anticipation as her potion took effect.
Costume bunny ears were pushed off the feminized guards’ heads as real bunny ears sprouted to replace them. The same happened with their bunny tails. White fur spread over their skin as their two front teeth grew long and protruded from their mouths while their noses became triangular and pink.
“Yeah,” Esme said, regaining her confidence. “How do you like that trick?”
As they realized what was happening to them, they began shrieking and fearfully chattering, their voices growing higher pitched as they became shorter and less human. They watched wide-eyed as their hands and feet reshaped into furry paws and their bodies shrank out of their sexy outfits. Moments later, they had been reduced to fluffy white bunnies, hopping around in an adorable panic.
Esme began laughing madly and reached into her pockets, pulling more potion vials out, which she began flinging around the room. “You get it too, you horny bunnies!” she cried and cackled. (Seriously, she actually cackled.)
All the horrified men around us began growing bunny ears and white fur.
I looked down at my hands, expecting to see them transforming as well, but I didn’t seem to be affected by the mist. Adrian didn’t either. Had Esme actually done something to protect us?
“Come on,” Esme said, backing away from the female bunnies at her feet. “Let’s go.”
The men finished transforming into white rabbits and began hopping free of their human clothes. I watched as instinct took over after they caught the scent of the female bunnies. Sensing potential mates, the males all congregated around the females and began expressing their interest as bunnies do. We were out the door and in the parking lot before we had to witness what came next.
***
“Thank you,” I said to Esme as I began sobering up on our flight home.
“For what?” she asked, looking over her shoulder at us on the rug being pulled along behind her broom.
“You kept us from turning into bunnies.”
Esme looked confused for a moment, then she seemed to figure out what I meant. “Oh, right,” she said. “Yeah that did work out.”
“What?” I asked.
“That magic bill you used on him, it must have protected you both from the bunny spell. Same reason why you turned back to normal when the potion activated. Lucky that it kept working while I bunnied everyone.”
I sighed, realizing that Esme had not done anything to protect us, at least not intentionally.
“See,” she said. “Like I told you, nothing to worry about.”
We made it back to our home and Esme dropped us off in our backyard. Adrian wrapped the magic rug around himself to sneak inside the house.
“See you later,” Esme said, and launched into the air on her broom, then she sped off into the evening sky.
Hoping that I didn’t smell like alcohol, I followed Adrian in and distracted our parents as he snuck up to his bedroom to change out of his stripper outfit. Then, as soon as we could, we went to bed.
***
I jolted awake the next morning, having experienced a deeply disturbing erotic dream. Disturbing because I was a man in it and the woman with me was Adrain’s favorite dancer. I shook my head to clear it and headed downstairs for some breakfast. There was music playing in the living room, and I found Adrian there, already awake, very awake in fact.
He was dancing.
“Morning,” I said and watched him move, seemingly lost in the music.
“Hey,” he said, barely even glancing at me. “What’s up?”
“You tell me,” I said, walking around him to take a seat on the couch. “I’ve never seen you dancing in the house… before yesterday, at least.”
“I know,” he said and smoothly incorporated a shrug into his movements. “I just woke up feeling like I wanted to dance. Weird, huh?”
Hearing that, I recalled the hypnotic spell that Esme had cast to make him think dancing was his favorite thing in the world. “Adrian,” I said. “I think this is just more of Esme’s magic that didn’t wear off.”
“Really?” he asked, rolling on the ground before leaping back to his feet.
“Yeah,” I said. “Don’t worry. I should be able to convince her to turn you back to normal.”
He kept on dancing without replying.
“You do want to go back to normal, right?” I asked. “I mean, you don’t want to feel like dancing all the time?”
“I dunno,” he responded with another shrug. “It’s kind of fun, actually. Maybe… maybe let me stay like this for a little while. Okay?”
“Okay,” I said and smiled slightly as I saw how much he was enjoying himself.
***
Weeks later, after some begging to our parents, Adrain began to take dance classes, including trying out ballet. While our parents had been surprised by his sudden passion for dancing, they were happy to allow him to pursue it.
I had become increasingly conflicted about the whole situation, though. As much as Adrian assured me that this was what he wanted, I knew that Esme had pretty much rewritten his mind to turn him into a dancer. He wanted it because she had made him want it. I worried about what she might try to do next with that kind of power. What if she tried to change my mind? Would I end up like him, happily behaving strangely according to one of her whims? I tried to put those questions out of my mind, but every time I noticed signs of Adrian’s new love for dancing, I was reminded again of her frightening power.
***
You would think that I would avoid Esme after that, but I still let her come over to see me. Unsurprisingly, I’m the only friend she has left.
When we were kids, Esme used to be pretty normal. She was a witch, yeah, but her magic was pretty weak. We had a good sized group of friends. Then, as we became teens, Esme’s magical powers grew even stronger. I mean, she turned some poor boy into a giant woman one day at the beach. He kind of deserved it, but that scared us. We could see clearly how dangerous she was now. One by one, our other friends started making excuses for why they were too busy to hang out with us anymore. I was dumb enough to be the last one left with Esme, and as long as I’m her friend, everyone else avoids me just the same as Esme.
I considered leaving as well, but then I realized what that would mean. Esme without any friends would be even more dangerous. She might even want to do something awful to us out of spite, like put a curse on us or something worse. The truth is, I’m too scared of her to tell her I don’t really want to be friends anymore. I think she might have realized how I feel, but she keeps coming over to hang out. Maybe she’s trying to torture me. Maybe she’s so lonely that she’d rather have an unwilling friend than no friend at all. I don’t know, but whatever the reason, we’re stuck with each other.
So, we carry on together, pretending to be best friends while I dread every time she visits. There’s more to say, but that’s enough for now. Wish me luck. I’ll need it.
