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The Gypsy Stone 1/5 [magic, trans, cd, tg]
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
I cleaned this up a bit, so if you have this from some other source,
this may be a better copy. I didn't write this. Repost requests will
be cheerfully ignored. TG archivist, please grab this and repost at
will.
THE GYPSY STONE BY ROBIN DOUGLAS PART 1
***FORWARD***
The heavy wooden handled sledge hammer came down on the small black cube
with enormous force. Green sparks flew from the 4 inch artifact, but not a
scar or chip was viable on it's surface.
"Sorry ma'am, I can't touch it with the hammer either. I could try the
saw."
The dark woman looked at the burly Indian with disgust. "So a big strong
man like you can't even break a little rock, and you call yourself 'Bear"."
"Let's try the saw. If that doesn't work you'd better take it over to the
University, maybe they'll know what to do with it."
The husky Pawnee took the inky block of stone in his hand. It wasn't heavy
like it was solid, more like hollow. But not so hollow as to crush under the
hammer blows he had given it. Strange writing and symbols were inscribed on
the surface, but they weren't anything he had ever seen. How did the maker of
this write on it. He hadn't yet been able to scratch it.
The saw was made for cutting pipes and small beams. Bear hadn't found a
metal or stone the saw wouldn't cut. It's relentless band of blade would
slowly drive it's way thru the cube, a drizzle of oil cooling the target
area. Then the stonefaced lady would pay him the hundred she had promised.
Bear lifted up the weighted arm of the saw and set the moving blade on the
ebony object. The saw screamed its distress and a greasy smoke rose from the
area of contact. The woman walked over and bent over looking at the blade
slide across the slick surface. "I think you're burning the teeth off your
saw Mr. Bear." She stated flatly.
***FOOTBALL***
Nick kicked off the line with every bit of acceleration he could muster.
The slim wingback looked downfield for the first defender of the zone but he
was preoccupied with the tight end. Nick sped past the 30 yardline toward the
goal. The safety was waiting for him at the 20. He focused on his move. If he
faked right and moved left that would be what the defender expected. If he
moved left without a fake that might be too simple to follow.
This was Nick's first chance at wingback and he didn't want to screw it
up. Spring practice was almost over and his first break hadn't come until the
last scrimmage. Now he was under pressure. Beat Rod Thomas, second string all
conference safety, and catch the pass or live in ignominy on the bench all
season this fall. He and quarterback Bart Maddsen had practiced this timing
play several times this spring. If his timing was good the time to cut was .
. . NOW.
He faked twice with his head trying to catch Rod off guard. Rod didn't
budge until Nicks body moved left. He was on him like paint on a shingle.
Nick could see the ball out of the corner of his eye. It was coming right
at him, but so was Rod. He tried to keep his mind on the ball, but Rod was
almost 175 pounds of rock hard football player and Nick was a slim 145.
Speed, thought Nick. Use your speed. He accelerated to the ball, feeling
it on the tips of his fingers. He stretched his arms to get his hands under
the ball. This was it. He was in. He was going to look great. Then he felt
himself hit something akin to a brick wall. There was instant pain, all the
air went out of his lungs and the world turned into a spinning slow motion
dance and his attention bounced between the ball that had just ricocheted off
his hands into the air and the pain in his right side.
***FUGITIVE***
The little truck bounce alone the rough country road. It wasn't pleasant
to travel on such poorly maintained backroads without shocks, but Madame
Naomi knew they were looking for her on the interstates. She had been setting
up her fortune telling booth at little craft shows and spring festivals for
over 700 miles now, hoping to solve the riddle. If she could open the box her
fortune was made, and the box looked so blamed simple.
She turned it over in the seat beside her. A simple cube of obsidian. Or
so it looked. It has some arcane characters etched into the the surface
following a decorative banding that created a complex pattern across all 6
surfaces of the cube. If you sat in a very dark room with it for long enough,
long enough so you were completely adjust to the dark, you could make out the
glow. A faint green glow inside.
She was depending on the University to translate the characters on the box
and solve the riddle of how to get in. Of course they couldn't know what
would be inside. . . they couldn't find out!
The truck groaned as it turned into Middleburg. A paper on objects from
the orient by Dr. Walter Lang had taken her in this direction. He would be
able to interpret the symbols and tell her how to use the amulet she was
certain was inside. She could see it glowing from within, the her grandfather
had whispered of its' existence when she was a little girl. She had pursued
it for a lifetime.
Inside the office of Walter Lang Naomi waited impatiently for the small
overweight man to get off the phone with a student. They talked on and on
about politics, school policies and a poor grade the student had apparently
received. She tryed to catch the mans dull grey eyes, but he glanced at the
ceiling, the floor, the small jade Buddha on the desk, everywhere but at her!
Finally, exasperated Naomi took out the cube. She set it on the desk and
pushed it slowly within his line of sight.
Walter Lang looked up. His pudgy face looked shocked, a bead of sweat
trickled down by his ear and disappeared into the folds of flesh at his neck.
"Got to go, I'll get back to you on the grade, Andy." Lang tryed to put the
phone back into the cradle still staring at the cube, missed, then with
deliberate attention set the phone into it's resting place. "Where did you
get this, Ms., eh, uhh. . . I didn't get your name?
"Naomi Rankouski, Dr. Lang. Nice to meet you. The object was passed down
in my family. I would like you to translate the inscription."
"May I take a closer look?"
"Of course."
A thick hand attempted to still itself as it grasped the block. Walter
took a magnifying visor out of his drawer and put it on, drawing the lenses
over his eyes. He turned the cube over and over very slowly, occasionally
grabbing a pencil and scrawling a note.
"Hmmmm," he said methodically. "What you've got here isn't oriental,
really. It's actually much more recent. It's an object from Roman times,
associated with a Mithraisic Cult. Oriental mystics. It mentions Fu-hsing,
the Chinese God of Happiness. If I can keep it over night I might be able to
tell you more."
"Sure," Naomi said under her breath, "You'll tell me more, alright."
***FRIENDS***
"Com'on Nick. It's not the end of the fucking world. You had it in your
hands and Rod knocked it out. Ya did alright for your first attempt." Bart
gave him a friendly slap on the shoulder pads as they walked into the locker
room.
Yeh, thought Nick, Alright if I ever get another chance to catch one.
They walked thru the back door of the Gym, down a flight of metal stairs
clanging rubber cleats against the metal steps, and into the boys lockers.
Nick opened his locker and sat down on the scruffy blue wooden bench in front
of it and began to undress.
School was over, the Watertown Festival started tomorrow night and Nick
didn't know what he wanted to do with his life. He stared down at the green
grass stains on this white practice pants with disgust. If he had just sped
past Rod and caught the pass. His one and only chance to prove that at 145
pounds he wasn't the wimp he appeared to be.
"Hey Nick," said a hulking figure with a towel around his thick waist, "ya
can't let a little love tap like that get ya all rattled. Be tough kid!" Art
Sandusky was known as Sandman to the team. One hit and you were out like a
light. However there wasn't much light in Sandmans head. What he lack in
smarts he made up in size, speed and toughness.
"Nice try Nickie." Rod Thomas scuffed by with a towel over his ass. "Try
those moves on Dinslage next fall and you'll catch a pass or two, but you'd
better work on your speed during the summer, flyboy."
Rod was Mr. do everything. He played football, rodeoed in his spare time
and had any girl in the school he wanted. His handsome, dark features were a
sharp contrast to blonde, light complected Nick. He wished Rod would stop
calling him flyboy. He didn't know if he was refering to Nicks diminutive
size, or to his speed. He tossed a bundle of gear in the locker with a
vengeance. The sound reverberated through the locker. Somewhere in the
distance he heard the coach "Quiet in there you candy asses."
***FLIGHT***
The window of the Oriental Studies building was open.The cool spring
evening made it a pleasant task to walk back onto the Middleburg University
campus and find the window of Dr. Lang's office. The desk was bathed in light
from a green desk lamp and the chubby professor could be seen working,
surrounded by books. On his desk was a green lump, glowing slightly.
Six shiney black plates of obsidian lay on the table. The open sides of
the box! Somehow Walter had solved the puzzle of the box and extracted the
legendary stone.
Naomi silently crawled into the window. She was about 20 feet from Lang at
the other end of the office. She plastered herself against the wall to the
left of Lang and made her way in the shadows towards the desk. She leapt at
the green stone and formulated her first wish. "I wish. . . " she mumbled in
a low tone as the Professor looked on in confusion.
The Lang started for her, but stumbled and fell on the left side of the
desk. His form wavered and changed, and he was gone. Something small moved
inside the heap of clothes.
"Naomi gathered up Professor Lang's notes, put the stone in her pocket,
and said, "Come along, Walter, we're about to find our fortune."
***FAMILY***
"Breakfast, kids." Nick and Julie Summers mother called. "Don't be
lazyheads. It's a beautiful morning."
Nick considered his mother to be a well meaning airhead who lived to serve
her family. His sister Julie was a year younger than Nick, but a good kid.
"Coming, Mom." Nick heard his sister call. He looked around his room and
thought about the weekend. It was Festival weekend. Lots to do, a parade,
parties, a carnival and some brews to drink if he could work it out. Nick
climbed out of his Green Bay Packers bedcover and kicked a skateboard across
the floor to clear the path to his closet. He paused and looked at Heather
Locklear before he opened the closet door that the pinup poster covered. What
would it feel like to look like that, he mused? Women were so different from
men, so. . .sexy. Nick put on his robe and headed to for the bathroom.
Not fast enough. Julie had beat him to it. What did she do for so long in
there? Girls were unnaturally clean he decided and lumbered downstairs for
breakfast. He was met at the table in the kitchen by a small blond woman with
a cheerful smile.
"Great day coming, Nick. Do you want scrambled eggs or fried."
Skip the eggs, Mom, and give me some juice and toast."
"You've got to have your protein if you want to play football, Nick. Just
look at you. You're not much bigger than your sister."
"Will Dad be back for the Festival tonight?" Nick changed the subject.
"He'll be out of town for two more weeks, Nickie. If he gets the job
wrapped up early be might be back next weekend but I don't think we should
count on that."
Just then a trim blonde girl of 16 skipped into the breakfast nook and sat
down delicately. "Give me the works Mom, I'm famished."
Nick looked at his sister. Several of his friends had asked about dating
her recently. She had blossomed into a cute teen with a slim, but feminine
body. As brother and sister and only a year apart, they had always been
close. Nick always admired the ease with which Julie made decisions. She
seemed to make living life look so easy.
"Eat up big brother,"she said, "We've got costumes to pick out for the
parade tonight."
***FOUND***
Back at the pickup Naomi turned on the radio to pass some time. She looked
at her dark, careworn face, surrounded by jet black hair in the rearview
mirror. Somehow she always looked better in the rearview mirror than she did
in the mirror in her camper. She brushed back a whisp of black strands and
thought about the 5 years with Emily in San Diego. It was always money that
ruined things. Money and the years that had gone by too fast.
It was amazing what you could find out on the radio. Most of the fairs,
shows and festivals she'd played we're announced on these little local
stations 20 times a day. "..and that was Perry Como's big one in 1957. And
now for local events. The Watertown Spring Fling is opening Saturday. After
the Masquerade Parade Paul Peters and his Pipers will be playing at the Cow
Palace. Don't miss the fun, the games, the food or the frolic of the
Watertown Spring Fling, Saturday."
Naomi drove past the garish "Hideout GoGo" sign on the south side of the
small town of Watertown. Lots of small towns like these had the sleazy joints
more respectable cities like Middleburg wouldn't allow. This one was a dive
with a fancy red and orange exterior paint job and a sign "topless dancers
wanted" posted permanently under the marque.
Watertown was nestled in the foothills of the Blue river. Five thousand
people tops with a small city square around which most of the businesses were
located. The river surrounded the town on the north, west and east while the
highway came up from the south. Besides the mall over the east river bridge
and the old monastery in the hills to the north, Watertown was like any other
midwestern town.
***FESTIVAL***
The Watertown Festival. Nick Summers and his sister Julie were in the
attic throwing costumes out of the old trunk looking for just the right
thing.
"It's not hard to find something rad in all this stuff." exclaimed Julie,
"Look at all the cool duds in this thing."
She held an old prom dress up to her slim body and spun around happily.
Nick grabbed a tux out of the old brown suitcase and slipped his arm into
the sleeve.
"Too, small." he complained.
Julie made a face, "Well this dress is too large, we should just trade."
"That could work, " said Nick, "In fact it could be funny for you to the
the beau and me the prom queen."
Nick slipped on the pink taffeta gown over his jeans and polo shirt. It
was a bit tight, but it was about right. And the tuxedo fit Julie perfectly.
"Wow," Julie smiled "This is going to work. You make a great girl Nick, we
just have to curl your hair a little, put makeup on you and earrings...."
"Whoa, sister. You really think I should do all that stuff? The guys will
think I'm queer and stay away from me like I had aids."
"It's a parade silly. You can get away with anything."
Nick felt pretty stupid going out the front door of the house with pink
ruffles rustling around his stockinged legs. But he looked so good in the
mirror when his sister had made him up he almost got a hard-on thinking about
fucking himself. Long earrings brushed his shoulders as he turned his head.
Nick stumbled down the front porch stairs in his pink high heeled pumps
and wondered why he let his sister talk him into this costume. Julie, I don't
think I can do this. What if my friends recognized me, I'd never live it
done."
"What if they don't, Nick, You'll be in for the surprise of your life. You
don't know how hot you look tonight.. I wish I looked that good when I
dressed up.
"Don't wish for things you can't have Julie."
"Nick I'll kill you...."
Into the darkness ran two figures, a small slim boy in his tux chasing a
tall pretty girl in a pink prom dress.
***FORTUNES***
Naomi Rankouski looked at the slightly glowing stone on the table as she
pondered what to do next. She had wasted her wish on that stupid Walter Lang.
A cackle came from something perched on the curtainrod behind her as if to
answer her thought.
One wish per person. How she wished she'd known that before she wished for
something as stupid and useless as Walter's bizarre fate. She pondered how
she could get the stone into the right hands and get them to wish for
something for her. She rearranged her crystal ball so the stone was under it
and gave it an eerie green glow, then she smiled as an idea came to her. She
went to the front of the tent and sat contented in her chair waiting for her
patsy to come along.
Nick was exhausted. He ran along the midway, ignoring the stares and
catcalls of the vendors and game hawkers. He had avoided the man now
following him and looked desperately around for a hiding place before he
caught up. He almost sympathized with pretty women and the trials they were
dealt by passionate men. Both he and his pursuer were drunk enough they had
gone beyond the logical. Nick was sure that the man wanted to rape him, or at
least forcibly make Nick accompany him somewhere. Nick didn't want to know
where that was. He held his pink high heels in his hands and was panting hard
when he saw the tent on the edge of the carnival . The sign read "Madame
Naomi -- Fortunes Told."
Nick ducked into the tent. A folding chair stood in front of a curtain. A
voice behind the curtain said "Come in young lady. Our last fortune of the
night is always free."
Nick opened the curtain and ducked through. A candle burned in the back of
the room giving a waxy smell to the tend. A curtain hid an area behind. In
the middle of the room was a little bar table with a spherical object in the
middle of it. The sphere was glowing green. The green light lit the face of
an old lady so Nick looked directly at her and missed to coal red eyes
staring at him from high in the back of the tent.
"Welcome my dear. Sit down and let me divine your future, loves life and
fortune."
Nick sat, glad to get off his bare feet. He set the heels on the sawdust
floor of the tent and plopped down onto the chair behind him. He found
himself in the sawdust with his feet in the air and taffeta in his face. A
little high pitched clucking laugh came from somewhere in the tent. Somehow
the stiff material of his dress must have knocked over the chair ahead of his
bottom reaching it.. He gingerly picked himself up off the floor and set the
chair back in place. He steadyed himself with the back of the chair, then
quickly sat down. He looked around for the eyes and the origin of the
clucking but found himself looking into the eyes of an dark woman with a
turban on her head.
"Well, well, well. A little tipsy tonight ,dear? Better be careful, the
future has much in store for you. I see a man in your future. One that you
have strong passion for. After that children and a long trip over the ocean."
"What about tonight? What do you see for me tonight?" Nick softly,
chuckling to himself, the old fraud didn't even know he was a boy.
"Tonight you will elude the one chasing you, and a big change will come in
your life."
"Yeah" thought Nick, "I'll change back into my regular clothes, not bad!"
"Now" said Naomi, "Take this stone in your hand and wish me fortune. It is
traditional that the heart of the crystal ball be evoked for fortune to it's
master after the day of readings is done."
As the stone touched his hand he felt it's warmth. It glowed green, like a
giant firefly.
Just then the curtains behind them burst open and a swarthy face appeared.
"There you are you little tease," the face said in a growl.
"I wish you'd quit chasing me you bastard," Nick screamed, "Chase her
instead."
Naomi gasped as the man turned to her with rapture in his eyes. As Nick
ran out of the tent he heard her cry," You little bitch, you ruined it."
By that time Nick was long gone. He was well on the way out of the park
when he felt a pinch on his butt.
"Quit that you bastard, I'm no girl." he said in his most masculine voice,
turning to meet the eyes of the pincher. He was looking squarely at the
laughing face of his sister Julie.
"Thought you could handle being a girl for a night. Well, look at you.
You've lost your shoes, your makeup is a mess, you'd never make it a week
without cracking up."
Nick's temper began to flare. "Listen Jul, I had a hard night, OK? First I
get caught be Tom and Rich in this costume and they really give me the
business, then some strange guy starts to follow me around panting for me,
then this weird fortune teller tells me I'm going to fall in love and have
babies. How would you feel."
"Don't believe you."
"If you don't believe me just look at this stone. It's the fortune
tellers'. It's from under her crystal ball."
Julie took the stone in her hand and looked at the glowing rock. She
tossed it up in the air and caught it as if to measure it's weight. " Well,
all that my be true, but I wish you really were a cute young girl. We girls
put up with a lot more than men following us around. You'll never know!"
***FEMALE***
Nick felt faint for a moment. His vision blurred and his legs went weak.
He tried to catch himself but the next thing he felt was his body hitting the
ground. He looked up and blackness overtook him.
He awoke to his sister, and mother looking over him. "My," her heard his
mother say "He really looks good as a girl."
How do you feel Nick?" Julie fretted, "Are you alright? I'm sorry I said
those terrible things to you. You do make a really good girl, you hardly even
look like my brother. No wonder that man was chasing you."
"Get me out of this dress," Nick squeaked in a high little soprano, "I
can't even talk normal any more."
Nick heard his mother chuckling as she rolled the stockings down is legs.
"Good legs kidoo," she kidded. "Your sister did quite a job on you."
"Now the dress," she said matter a factly.
Nick raised his arms and raised his butt off the floor so they could pull
the pink dress over his head. He still felt tired and weak, but was not too
tired to notice that as he lifted his arms an unaccustomed large amount of
flesh seemed to be pulled out of the bodice of the dress and toward his chin.
It had the spooky effect in this light of making him look like he had real
breasts. Then the dress came up over his head and he closed his eyes as it
passed.
Before he opened his eyes again he heard two gasps, in unison. Something
was wrong. He opened his eyes and looked. No blood, but something was wrong.
On his once flat masculine chest were two soft mounds of creamy white skin
peaked with conical, dark nipples. Nick looked fascinated as the tips on the
nipples hardened like a pair of brown beads. The hardening was accompanied
with a tingling that move through his whole body and being.
"What the..." He grabbed the swelling protrusions and pulled them closer
to his face to look. They looked just like breasts. Small firm female boobs.
The hands wrapped around the boobs didn't look like his either. They were
very slim fingered with pretty rounded nails extending from the end of each
finger. These hands held these boobs and he felt it all as if it were his
hands and his chest. Then he looked up.
His mother and sister were staring at him with their jaws open the full
measure. They looked a bit like Mongoloid idiots at this moment he thought,
just looking at him dumbly. He wasn't sure what to say. In a dream you don't
have to think about what to say do you, Nick thought? He let go the of
breasts in a sudden realization that this might not be all the changes that
had taken place. The soft mounds slid smoothly down and to the side, leaving
a free view of Nick's crotch.
When his sister had dressed him Nick had insisted on wearing his own white
jockey shorts. They were still reassuringly there wrapped around his hips.
But the usual lump in the crotch was absent. This was beginning to freak Nick
out. The white cotton seemed to have bunched up in the middle and the elastic
band ridden up to above Nick's normal waist. This made Nick's waist look
higher up on his body, and it emphasized his hips. All in all he looked very
convincingly like a girl.
"You're a girl, Nick." his sister gasped. "You've changed into a girl."
She started sobbing and wringing her hands. "I'm sorry I did this to you, I
wished it and it came true -- right after I wished it. It's my fault." The
she paused and knelt down next to her brother, "That's really you in there
isn't it Nick?"
Yeah, it's me. Do I really look like a girl?"
"A very pretty one, Nick. Exact in every detail. But you still look like
the old Nick, too"
"Every detail?" gasped Nick, suddenly grabbing for his crotch.
"Aughhhhhhhh, this is horrible."
"Not really horrible," said Julie trying to calm him down, "Your anatomy
is really similar to mine for example."
"Arrrrrghhhhhhh, nooooooo. They can do this to me. How did this happen?"
The stone." said Julie opening her hand. "The damn stone did it."
Nick looked at the glowing green stone in Julie's hand. When he had held
it and wished the man who was following he would follow Madame Naomi instead
he did. And when Julie wished he could be a cute girl and---this happened!
"Julie, wish me back."
"I wish my brother was himself again."
The two waited -- nothing.
"Give me that stone." Nick said desperately, "I'll do it."
Nick took the stone in a delicate hand. . . "I wish I was a boy again."
Nothing.
NEXT: NICK BECOMES MOTHERS LITTLE HELPER
I just bought a Mini-14. I also made a 75-round drum magazine and a
pistol-grip stock. I'm ready to rock and roll. My dad is a real good
machinist. He knows how to make all kinds of guns go full-auto.
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