Aunty’s Pussy Fiiled

Let’s extend that to everyone. It’s not against the rules.”“Cyn, that’s fantastic! Great idea!” The bell rang just then. “Let’s continue this after class is over,” Roger finished.After English they walked to Psychology and continued discussing their plans for the week when Roger’s cell phone chirped.“Um, got a text. Must be important—everyone knows not to text during school. Let’s see who it is ... Oh, from Dad. All the Marine kids—and the camp civilian workers too—are being texted by their folks to meet outside the stadium after school. Some of the MP officers will be there to tell us what we’ll be able to do for tomorrow.”“Wow, Dad works so fast,” Cynthia said.“Yeah, that’s why he’s at the top rank so young, Cyn. He’s a real go-getter.”In their last class, Psychology, the teacher went over the term’s topics and then looked around the class.“We’re supposed to have some Program students in class this week.” She looked at a paper. “Roger Denison? Cynthia Denison?”They raised their. And even if it was imagined, I doubt I could have imagined the sensationof my fingers touching my breasts through my top. Because it wasn'tlike anything I felt when I touched my chest as a man. This was noillusion.I started to panic. "Am I mad?" No, that can't be it. "Think Ryan!" Isaid as I started to pace the room. As I walked, I noticed a small handmirror. I picked it up and held it up. It only took a second; I'm her,the girl from the locket. The change from black and white to livingcolor did nothing to disguise that pretty face.I turned to the locket. "It must hold an answer," I thought. I rubbedit against myself and dropped it. Nothing. I held it aloft and said,"Change me back." Nothing."Think Ryan!" Trying to ignore the alien voice, I realized I had nottried to inspect the locket since the change. I opened it.There I was. My old face, in a color photo. Me. A man at thirty.Brown hair. Green eyes. Sharp features. I had a goofy grin, whichseemed to be the only.
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