Neon Pink

posted in: Breast Expansion, Mind Control, Stories | 0

Breast Expansion Mind Control
by Fret Pearson

Author’s note: I decided to write a mystery because I have always enjoyed
reading them. I also decided to write a mind control story because I enjoy
the genre and my past stories have included certain elements common to it.
Furthermore, MC fans send a lot of feedback to authors. Though “Neon Pink”
includes BE, it’s primarily a mind control story. However, if you have
enjoyed my previous stories I feel sure you’ll enjoy this one as well. It
originally appeared in serial form at the Erotic Mind Control Stories

Part 1: A Mishap and a Mystery

We found the bow and its quiver of arrows jammed way back in a rusty
cupboard at the rear of the drama club’s prop storage closet. Every year,
Washington High puts on a stage performance, and the bow and quiver were
from some long ago past production. Only two of the arrows in the quiver
were real – the others were shorter fakes glued to the inside, to make it
look full.

I was reading an Agatha Christie in the bleachers when it happened.

Rob started monkeying around with the bow, and before we knew it one of the
arrows went straight into the gymnasium ceiling, where it stuck. The
strange old guy who was supposed to be supervising us wasn’t paying
attention. Toby warned Rob to be careful, but it was too late. Rob’s second
shot was much more graceful; the arrow soared cleanly toward the stage
where Janey sat with her legs dangling, doing her homework. The shaft
embedded itself in her calf and she screeched.

Janey is my best friend, and has been since I moved here in grade school.
We had joined the drama club together because we both kind of fantasized
about becoming actresses, and because there are some really cute guys in
the club every year. Now we were seniors, with graduation coming up, and
neither one of us was likely to gain a lead role in whatever the upcoming
play was going to be. (Mr. Lopez hadn’t decided yet.) I had had my chance
last year, but just because I’m Japanese, or Japanese-American, or
whatever, doesn’t mean I want to play Hiawatha, or any other Indian.

Anyway, since it was Sunday the paramedics arrived pretty quickly and
prepared to carry Janey to the ambulance. There wasn’t a lot of blood, but
it was really gross to see the arrow sticking out of her leg. She was still
unconscious, and Rob was really getting in the way trying to, first,
apologize to her (and anyone else who would listen), and second, help carry
her books and things.

“Let them take her to the hospital, asshole!” I shouted at him. I’m not
really a mean person, but he deserved it. What an idiot. Mr. Lopez sure
picked the wrong day to leave us unsupervised, and the old guy who was
there hadn’t done anything to keep the boys in line.

I grabbed Janey’s books and papers and started carrying them to my car. The
paramedics wouldn’t let anyone ride in the ambulance, so Rob and some
others started making plans to go in their cars.

I don’t know. Don’t get me wrong, Rob isn’t an asshole. In fact he’s a
great actor but he sure needs to learn not to take things too far. I
wondered what Janey was going to say to him when she woke up. I guess I’m
the only one who knew for sure that she had a small crush on him. Okay,
make that a big crush. It was a huge secret because all three of us lived
in the same part of the suburbs, and also because Rob’s girlfriend Cindy
was kind of our friend sometimes, when she wasn’t being a bitch.

I had driven pretty fast, once I signed out of school and got everything
loaded into my car. After taking my name, the nurse prepared to show me to
Janey’s room. I hurried past her and peeked into Janey’s room on my own,
which was a huge mistake, because the nurse looked as if she might tackle
me. All I saw was a brief glimpse of Janey sleeping before I was jerked
away from the door and it was closed in my face.

“Hold on, you’re not family, are you?”


“Well, I’m sorry but-”

“I’ve got her books out in my car,” I tried to explain. “The school told me
she has to have her books here so she can finish her homework. It’s

She bought my panicked expression (I did mention I was in the drama club,
right?) and eventually agreed to let me deliver the books. I ran out to my
car. It seemed to take forever to get to the parking garage and back, but
when I did return with an armload of Janey’s things the nurse was a bit
more friendly. At last she showed me to Janey’s room and started answering
my questions.

“Your friend has had a traumatic experience, and is sleeping, so don’t try
to talk to her,” she said. I nodded. Since my hands were full, she had to
open the door wide enough for me to enter. “We’re still doing some tests,
and we’ll be keeping her overnight for observation. She might have slipped
into a brief coma after the accident but don’t worry, she’ll be fine. You
can tell all her friends she’ll make a full recovery.”

“Coma?” I asked. Maybe the nurse realized she shouldn’t have told me that,
because she didn’t say anything.

“And her leg?” I asked.

“We stitched her up nice and tight. She’ll barely have even a scar. It was
only a flesh wound, all in all.”

I thanked the woman and she went back to the nurse’s station.

They gave Janey a room by herself, which was nice. It was drab and painted
in that ugly hospital green color, but it was okay enough, I guess. It had
a TV. Janey looked so young sleeping in the bed, with her long blonde hair
hanging over one side of the pillow. Asleep, she looked like she had in
grade school. She was so cute! Her leg was under the covers, so I couldn’t
see it. (I didn’t really want to see stitches, anyway.) I put her notebooks
and things on the shelf by her bed and sat down next to her. I held her
hand, wondering if she would wake up, but she didn’t. Maybe she was on

That’s when I noticed a huge bouquet of flowers on one side of the room,
sitting on one of the chairs. That’s funny, I thought, I didn’t see those a
few minutes ago when I looked in, before going out to my car… At least I
didn’t remember seeing them. And who would give Janey flowers? I looked for
a card but there wasn’t one. Finally I decided that maybe the hospital had
brought the flowers here, but they sure did look nice, and a little

On a shelf next to the flowers was part of the arrow, wrapped several times
in a sheet of clear plastic. I guess the emergency room doctors put it
there. Holding the bundle up, I unwrapped it enough to cringe when I saw
some of Janey’s blood on the end. Removing more of the plastic, I noticed
that the doctors or whoever had sawed the wood off neatly. Turning it in my
hands, I noticed that the shaft was hollow, and that’s when some dark
syrupy liquid started to leak out of the hole where the wood had been cut.

“Shit!” I whispered.

Reflexively, I cupped my hand and caught the thick black fluid before it
could get on the floor, and hurried over to the tiny bathroom. I threw both
the arrow and the palmful of liquid into the sink, and then washed my hand.
Yuck, I thought. What is this crap? At first I had thought it was blood,
but it was much too dark. I scrubbed with soap and hot water until it
finally came off.

I started to walk back to Janey, but suddenly I felt really dizzy. You know
if you get up too quickly after sitting for a long time? But my vision
didn’t blur or anything, I just felt really weird and unsteady, and my palm
where that crap had touched the skin started tingling.

“What’s happening?” I said.

I know this sounds really stupid, but the colors in the room started to
change. But they were the same, still, too. The same, but different. It’s
like, how do you know that the colors you see match what everyone else
sees? Maybe where I see green, other people see purple, or something
completely different. Anyway, something weird happened to the color pink.
As I left the bathroom, the pink in the flowers stood out like they were
beacons or something. My eyes were drawn toward them, as if they were the
most important things in the room. I shook my head to try and clear the
dizziness, but it didn’t help. The flowers were so important, so beautiful.
I couldn’t concentrate.

But as I neared them, I saw Janey’s lips. They were an even more perfect
shade of pink… even brighter…

Her lips were so beautiful, my eyes wanted to drink them up. I guess it was
her lipstick. And suddenly I started to feel, I don’t know, aroused. I was
breathing faster, and like some sort of waking dream I was approaching the
perfect rose tint of my friend’s lips with a weird sort of anticipation
that I didn’t even understand, but that I felt in my hardening nipples, and
further below…

I reached her bedside, and her lips were so small, while their color was so
big. My hand was really tingling. It has to be that gunk, I thought. What
was it? I knew the poison or whatever it was inside the shaft was doing
this weird thing to me, but that didn’t make it any easier to resist. I
absently rubbed my tingling palm up my waist, my stomach, and over one boob
and hard nipple as I leaned over Janey’s sleeping form. Stop, I commanded
myself, what are you doing?

I willed myself to resist, but the closer my eyes got to my best friend’s
lips, the more that delicious shade of pink enraptured me. I couldn’t help
myself. Lower, and lower, soon I could feel her breath on my face. I was so
close that when I licked my own lips my tongue brushed her chin, and she
stirred slightly. Thank goodness! Her brief movement away from me was all I
needed to break the spell, and I turned away in a decisive act of

I was almost in tears, and one breast hurt. I realized I was still
squashing my right boob with my hand, which was still tingling. I let
myself go and noticed I was facing Janey’s books and things. But why
couldn’t I see them? Why couldn’t I see anything? Why couldn’t I think?

Tunnel vision. Pink tunnel vision. What would Freud say about that?

Sticking out from under one of Janey’s notebooks, was a brilliant triangle
of pink – it’s hard for me to describe – importance. The color… It was
one of those fluorescent pinks that glows under a black light. Its
necessity was so great that not only didn’t I see the books around it, I
didn’t care about them. I didn’t care about anything.

My tingling hand reached out for it, and by feeling the surface of the
books and papers, I realized that it was an index card, or something
similar, and pulled it free from beneath the notebook. It flared into
brilliance in front of me, as if I had lit a match inside a cave.

I held it in front of my face, in both hands. The pink was so pure, so
right. My fascination was so powerful that I felt helpless and scared. It
dwarfed my tiny, unimportant thoughts. How could I be so interested in this
piece of pink paper? Where had it come from? Was it Janey’s? Did it come
with the flowers? Had it already been here in the room, had I just put her
books down on top of it? My head was full of pink fog. It was several
minutes before I realized something was written on the card. It was hard to
make out, because I felt so spacey and dizzy…

Finally I was able to read the typewritten text, by looking at the pink
around it and doing a kind of subtraction in my head.


And the most frightening thing of all was that it seemed familiar, like
deja vu, like I somehow already knew it to be true…

I don’t know how long I stood staring at the card. Feeling it with my
hands, the side with the typewritten text seemed to have some sort of rough
flaky stuff glued to the paper, like maybe glitter except not shiny. Or at
least if it was shiny my eyes couldn’t distinguish it due to the numbing
onslaught of pink. Some of the stuff flaked off onto the floor but I could
have cared less. I tried to be careful as I examined the card, because if I
held it wrong my hands blocked too much of the color, and if I got it too
close to my eyes the pink darkened a shade and wasn’t as pretty. Holding it
sideways was almost painful. I tried to maximize the color and get as much
into my eye sockets as possible…

After a while, Rob and Cindy and some other kids arrived. The effects of
whatever had happened to me seemed to have faded slightly, and I hurridly
slid the card back under Janey’s notebook as I heard their approaching
voices. My eyes felt suddenly heavy, bored with the remaining visible bland

“Hey Mouse!” someone said. I turned around and saw half of the drama club
(as well as Cindy) pour into the tiny hospital room. “Is she okay?”

In the commotion, Janey opened one eye halfway and smiled at me. “Keiko,”
she said softly, and closing her eyes again, turned futher onto her side.

I left, knowing the nurse would be along any moment to throw everyone out
for making too much noise and interrupting Janey’s sleep. I wondered how
they had gotten past the nurses’ station in the first place. The only quiet
one was Rob, who seemed strangely out of character in his guilt over what
happened. Well, he deserved to feel guilty.

I sat in my car for about fifteen minutes, thinking about what had happened
to me (and wondering if my hand was still tingling or if I was only
imagining it) before I felt like I was steady enough to drive home.

Janey is the only person who actually calls me Keiko, except for maybe my
grandma. All the kids at school call me “Mouse” because my ears are shaped
kind of funny. They start out going parallel along my head, but then they
curve out away to the side in almost a 90 degree angle, which I guess makes
me look like a mouse. (Especially after I’ve been swimming and my hair is
stuck to my head.) They’re not big though, and not ugly, so don’t get the
wrong impression. I don’t really remember my dad, but I guess I got them
from him. Plus I’m short. I’ve had the nickname since grade school.

I’ve gotten used to it by now, but at first I hated it. (My hair is
shoulder length, and I usually wear it back, but in a way to partially
cover my ears.)

Once in the fifth grade I was doing a class project on Japan, and I was
telling everyone what the Japanese characters in my last name meant. When I
said that the first one meant “field,” Toby Smith yelled out, “Oh, so
technically you’re a field mouse!” and everyone laughed at me, and I cried
in front of the class and had to finish the project the next day.

I told my mother after school and she laughed and made me some chocolate
pudding. From that day on, “field mouse” has kind of been my nickname at
home. It’s funny how things change. For example, I used to hate Toby for
teasing me. But now, well, I’m embarassed to say that he grew up to be
really cute and I have a small crush on him. Only Janey knows. So if you’re
keeping score, she likes Rob and I like Toby. Yes, we’re both pathetic. But
I have to say that I am definitely less pathetic and at least I have my
crush in check.

Monday was a boring day at school without Janey. I pretty much spent the
latter half of the lunch period reading. Hercule Poirot and his little grey
cells take the Orient Express. I already saw the movie, but wanted to read
the original. I couldn’t get into it, though. I couldn’t shake the memory
of what had happened to me in the hospital. Finally I figured Janey might
be home, and went to the payphone.

Her mom answered. She said Janey had just gotten back from the hospital. I
waited patiently, until I heard Janey’s footsteps approaching the phone.
She didn’t seem to be limping.

“Keiko!” Janey screamed.

“Hi! How are you doing?” I asked.

“I’m fine. I can’t believe Rob shot me in the leg with a bow and arrow!
It’s like fate exists, or there is some kind of meaning to things, you
know? Did he get in trouble? Like, I hope nothing happened to him!”

“No, nothing happened. He got yelled at by Mr. Lopez, that’s all. He really
felt bad about what happened.”

“I know,” she said. “I kinda listened to him and Cindy in the hospital,
pretending to be asleep and stuff. Then someone played the trumpet and they
got thrown out. Wow, I don’t know Keiko, do you think like this is my

What she meant was, was it her chance to replace Cindy as Rob’s girlfriend?
I looked over at the popular seniors’ lunch table, and saw Rob sitting with
his arm around Cindy. She was sorting their lunches, giving her dislikes to
him and vice versa.

“I don’t know…” I said diplomatically. We talked for a few more minutes,
but my mind wasn’t really on the conversation. Now, hearing Janey’s voice,
my experience in her hospital room seemed so far away and stupid.

After a few minutes the class bell rang, and we made plans to meet at the
mall around seven o’clock to catch up.

Rob came over to my house after school, because he knows my mom loves him
and will feed him anything he wants (even the snacks that, if I eat them,
will spoil my appetite). Somehow he found out that I was meeting Janey at
the mall, and wanted to tag along to apologize to her in person and treat
her to ice cream. I really wanted to talk to Janey alone, but she would
really be pissed at me if I told him not to come. Decisions, decisions…

We met Janey in the Food Court. She looked the same as always, the only
sign of the accident was a little bit of tape on her leg. (She rolled up
her slacks to show us.)

“Does it hurt?” Rob asked.

“No, not really. I got eight stitches, so there shouldn’t even be a scar. I

“Damn, Janey, I am so sorry! I never meant to hit you. I was just playing

“I know, I know.” She squeezed his hand, which seemed to surprise him.

As we ate our ice cream, I thought about how odd it was that we had all
turned out this way. Three neighborhood friends, knowing each other since
grade school, all grown up and about ready to graduate and go to three
different colleges. In a way it made me feel really sad, and nostalgic for
the watergun fights and hide-and-go-seek games in neighbors’ yards so long
ago. Too bad college was going to separate us. I knew Janey felt the same
way, but sometimes I wondered if she worried more about parting with me, or

Rob had become a popular, strong, handsome – and terminally unserious –
young man. But Janey couldn’t compete with girls like Cindy who had great
big boobs and a butt that probably had “for cheerleading use only” tattooed
onto it. And me, future writer of The Great American (Mystery) Novel, still
known to everyone as “the little Japanese girl” except now I was slightly
taller and had tiny boobs shaped like the tips of a Nerf football.

I fell slightly behind as we walked through the mall, totally giving Janey
every chance to talk to Rob. She’d have done the same thing for me, I’m
sure. As I followed them, I started to wonder about the strange gunk inside
the hollow arrow. If that stuff had gotten on my skin and made me dizzy and
focused all my attention on various shades of pink, as it seemed to have
done, what might it have done to Janey after being “injected” inside her
leg? Or had it done anything? And what about that mysterious index card?
Where had it come from? I couldn’t ask her about this stuff in front of
Rob. I wondered if he had plans to meet Cindy tonight.

Just then I interrupted myself.

“Toby,” I whispered.

He was on the other side of the mall looking at some of the silver rings
and pendants in the glass case outside of LeatherWorks. It’s funny that
when you’re young, the boys from the bad neighborhoods are kind of
disgusting and dirty, but when they grow up they become tough and strong
and, let’s face it, sexy! Well, the cute ones, anyway. Toby wasn’t the kind
of guy who wore a brand new leather jacket and was afraid to get his hands
dirty; his jacket was years old, worn, and I could almost smell that
masculine, old leather scent from across the mall.

As we passed him, he noticed us, and nodded at me. I waved to him. I’m sure
I had the biggest, goofiest grin on my face. But to my surprise I saw he
didn’t seem to notice, because he was staring at Janey’s butt! Honestly!
(Of course she was walking close to Rob, so Toby could have been staring at
his butt – if he was gay that is, which he isn’t, so the point is moot.)
That made me a little mad, and actually a little jealous, but isn’t that
one of the reasons why I like him, anyway? Because he doesn’t play by the
rules? Anyway, I tried to rationalize it. I was hung up on him, what can I
say? I thought it must have been my imagination. Damn Janey and her green

So he went back to looking at the rings and stuff, while I let Janey and
Rob get further and further ahead. I kept sneaking peeks back to see what
he was doing, until finally he was gone, probably inside LeatherWorks or
the CD shop next door. When I turned around to face the way I was walking I
stopped an inch short of running into Janey.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

She and Rob were staring into Fleece’s department store. I looked from her
to him to her and then Rob shrugged.

“Beats me.”

Looking into the store, I saw the usual racks of spring clothes. There were
a few shoppers in sight but none seemed worth staring at. Was there a sale?
I didn’t see any signs. Janey had the weirdest look on her face. Her jaw
was slightly slack and to tell you the truth I started to get creeped out.
I shuddered involuntarily. Something was definitely wrong.

I stepped between her and Rob and tried to find out what she was looking
at. Moving just a few feet changed my area of visibility and immediately it
jumped out at me.

That neon pink color.

It was in the young ladies department, a rack of bright pink shirts. They
were identical to the color on the index card I saw at the hospital.
Fluorescent pink. Janey started walking toward them, and I felt that same
fuzziness in my head. Though it was less powerful than I remembered, it was
still incredibly strong and I felt obliged to follow Janey, even bumping up
against her as we got closer and closer to that color. It was attracting us
like moths to a flame. My palm throbbed lightly, not unpleasantly.

“Gotta be a sale,” Rob was saying. He stayed behind; Janey and I ventured
forward, soon leaving the mall and entering Fleece’s. “There’s a sale and I
don’t see the signs because it’s one of those woman things.”

His voice was receding. “Hey, I’ll catch up with you guys later…”

“Hey sweetie!” That was Cindy’s voice, behind us. I didn’t turn. The closer
I got to that color the less important all peripheral sensations became. I
could barely hear them as I drank in more and more of the neon pink.

“Where are the wonder twins going, is there a sale?”

“NO! I mean, hell no, baby, they just want to check some prices. C’mon,
let’s go back to the Food Court…”

“Do I have a leash around my neck?”

“Right. I think we both know who has the leash…” They faded away.

Janey was breathing heavily as she clutched at the air in front of the

“What is it?” she mouthed. Finally her hands caught it and pulled it from
the hanger. It was way too small for us, it was for a twelve or thirteen
year old. “Teen Princess” was stenciled on the front in cursive script, but
I was more impressed with the surrounding pink. Janey was too, and my
muddled brain finally realized that the gunk inside the arrow had gotten to
her, too.

“I need…” she murmurred, bringing the shirt to her face, breathing
deeply. It was a painful effort for me to look away from the shirt. Her
eyes were shockingly wide, unblinking, and dialated. “So beautiful… teen
princess,” she mouthed. “Teen… Princess…”

I felt my own lips moving along with hers, but as soon as I realized it I
forced myself to stop. I put my hands over Janey’s eyes and pulled her to
the floor. She turned to hug me and I kicked the shirt far away, out of
sight. Too bad there were at least six just like it still on the rack. Run,
I told myself, run! My hands still blocking her sight, I pulled her by the
head to her feet and we stumbled back into the mall. I’m sure we caused
quite a scene.

What the fuck was happening to us?

We didn’t have time to compare notes, and besides Janey seemed kind of out
of it. Sometimes when she’s got her period she gets like that, too, all
quiet and introverted. Doesn’t want to do anything, and so on. I guess she
was just scared and wanted to think about things. To tell the truth I was a
bit out of it myself. I drove her home and we mumbled plans to pick her car
up from the mall after school on Tuesday.

When I woke up on Tuesday morning the sun was shining and the previous
evening’s events seemed pretty ridiculous. I wanted to stay in bed, and I
remembered how my mother would baby me when I had the flu or something.
What would I do on my own at college? I didn’t want to think about it. I
stumbled out of bed and started to get ready. Only two more months of

It took me forever to get dressed. It was one of those days when nothing
seems to match and the outfit I had laid out the day before was just
hideous. All plain and boring. Some of that stuff was so cheap I couldn’t
believe I had ever worn it. Half my closet was all stuff that went out of
style two years ago.

Janey and I met before school and I couldn’t help but giggle. She obviously
thought she had a chance with Rob and was going full out. She was wearing a
dress and even had extra makeup on!

“Whoa, what’s with you?” she laughed.

“Me? Look at you!”

“What, are you kidding? You look like a…”

“Teen princess,” we both said in unison. I gasped, looking down at my own
dress and jewelry.

You know that feeling when your heart starts beating faster, because you’re
scared? Everything up until that moment was seemingly harmless, but
suddenly I got really frightened, and that feeling of doom came back
tenfold. Somehow this morning I had thought nothing of putting on a dress
and more makeup than usual; apparently the same thing had happened to

We had to go somewhere private to speak. There were too many people milling
around the main entrance, especially since the buses hadn’t stopped
unloading yet. We went inside to look for a place to talk. As Cindy saw us
heading up the stairs to the library she cursed.

“Janey, Mouse? Why didn’t anyone tell me it was senior pictures today?”

Once we found an empty table in the corner, I told Janey about what had
happened to me at the hospital, how the arrow had been hollow and I had
gotten the dark fluid on my hand and what had happened afterwards. I could
see her start to fidget.

“Oh thank god!” she said. “So you’re in this too.”

“In what?”

“After I got shot, I mean… at the hospital. I guess it was the arrow that
caused it. I saw those flowers, you know, with the little pink ones. I
pulled them onto my bed and made a mess. They were so beautiful, it was
like I was drunk. Then that glowing pink color, the card. And I just stared
at it for, I don’t know, hours.”

“Who brought the flowers?” I asked excitedly.

“I don’t know.”

“Do you remember what happened last night, at the mall?”

“That shirt…” she said. “It’s like that color – bright bright pink – just
does something to my head. I couldn’t think straight. I wasn’t thinking.”
She paused. “And I… I liked it.” Briefly I wondered if she had been
aroused, too.

“You were in a trance,” I said. “The same thing happened to me, but I think
it’s effecting you a lot stronger because that stuff in the arrow actually
got into your blood. I just got it on my skin, and I washed it off right

“The doctor said my brain waves were strange. He wanted to keep me longer.”

I thought about that for a moment. I was about to say something when she
shook her head. “But none of this explains why you decided to wear a dress

I looked at her in amazement. “Don’t you remember what was written on the
shirt last night? ‘Teen Princess.’ It’s gotten into our heads.”

“Oh my god!” she gasped, then lowered her voice. “Keiko, I didn’t read it,
all I saw was pink. I didn’t see any words at all! But…”

She seemed confused, and I looked at her closely. She was nibbling on her
lower lip. I’d almost never seen her do that before.

“I can’t explain it, and I know it doesn’t make any sense, but I am a teen
princess. I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life!”

“No you’re not!” I said. “Your father is a network something or other.” But
I knew how she felt. Deep down, unless I thought about it clearly, it
seemed like I was a “teen princess,” too. And all I had was a stepfather.
It was like we were hypnotized, or worse!

“Keiko,” she finally said, “I am a teen princess. I know I am.”

“No you’re not!” I said. “What does that mean, anyway?”

“I don’t know,” she said, tears filling her eyes. “I know I am. I just am!”
She got up from the table. “I’ll talk to you later.”

Here’s a lesson for you: If you want to be the object of ridicule at
school, wear a dress, hose, and extra makeup and jewelry for no reason. The
only good thing to come of it all was that I caught Toby staring at me a
few times – but then again everyone was staring at me, so why should he be
the exception? I came so close to going home sick that it’s not even funny.

It wasn’t until after school and after walking home that I realized what we
were experiencing was a full-fledged mystery. It appeared that my years of
reading detective novels were going to come to fruition. I ran the case
through my mind so far. Only by occupying my mind with the facts could I
remove the dress and wash away the already-smudged makeup and eyeliner. My
jeans felt uncomfortable, tight and rough, but I forced myself to keep them

According to Janey, she had messed up the flowers trying to “see” as much
of their pink color as possible, so she hadn’t seen them yet when I
visited. It seemed that the person who had brought the flowers had left the
index card with the strange message on it, too, but I couldn’t rule out
anything yet. I could recall the card’s message exactly.


Who would write such a thing? Who had shot Janey in the first place?

Rob. But it had clearly been an accident, hadn’t it?

I was about to call him when the phone rang. It was Janey. At first I
thought she was going to ask me to take her to the mall so she could get
her car (which I had completely forgotten about until then). But she

“Keiko!” she said, “I got another one! Another note. It was inside my

I hung up and hurried over to her house. She only lives five minutes away.
Since her parents work with computers they sometimes aren’t home until five
or six o’clock. Like me, she doesn’t have any brothers or sisters. I found
her in her bedroom, sitting on the floor with her back against the bed. She
was still wearing her dress. Her curtains were closed, like they always
were in the evening. There was a weird fat guy across the street who we
thought liked to look into her window.

The card was obvious, in the middle of her bedspread. As soon as I looked
at it I got that pink tunnel vision thing again, and all else faded from
view. I tried to shrug off the fog but it was so hard to concentrate on
anything. Pink was definitely now my favorite color, whether I wanted it to
be or not.

“I can’t look at it anymore,” Janey said. “I already looked at it for like
half an hour. I can’t read it, I can’t think when it’s in front of me. When
I see it, it’s like my head goes empty. And I feel funny inside.” She spoke
quickly, as if she was excited.

“Keiko…” she said softly. “It… did something to me.”

Ignoring her, I bumped into her bed and realized I was probably close
enough to pick the card up. My sense of depth was all screwed up, but I
managed to get a hold of it and look at it. There was text on it, just like
the previous card. It seemed to be typewritten, like before. Concentrating,
I slowly read it aloud.



“Yes, perfect slave,” Janey said. “That’s right. I mean, I wasn’t before
but now I am.”

“Don’t you see someone’s playing with your mind?” I asked. “And it’s one
word, too. No space between ‘perfect’ and ‘slave.’ I don’t know what that

She whimpered.

“Did it come in an envelope or something?” I asked.

“No, it just was inside my mailbox.”

“Okay, we have to find out who put it there. Maybe Rob, because he shot
you. Someone who knows you would get the mail before your parents. We need
to investigate.” I realized I was talking much slower than normal, and
threw the card down. It fluttered out of sight between the bed and the
wall, and my head began to clear.

“Oh, if only it was Rob,” she said. “But he doesn’t have to send me magic
notes to get me to do what he wants. He only has to dump Cindy.”

“The notes aren’t magical,” I said. “Remember it’s whatever was inside that
arrow. That’s another thing to look into. We have to find out what that
stuff was, and where it came from. Tomorrow I’ll ask Mr. Lopez. Maybe he
has some information about whatever play that bow and arrow set belonged

“I know the school library has books on magic…”

Standing above Janey, looking down at her cleavage pushing out of the front
of her frilly white dress, I had a nagging thought in the back of my head,
a certain knowledge that this most recent card had effected me, just like
the stupid “Teen Princess” T-shirt at the mall had. The more I thought
about it, the more certain I was. In the back of my mind, I felt different,
but only if I thought about it. I felt like a “slave.” In fact it was a
certainty only awaiting confirmation. And if I had been effected, so surely
had Janey – only even more so. I decided a simple experiment was in order.

I interrupted her talk about magic. “Go get me a Dr. Pepper,” I ordered.

She jumped up, looked at me oddly for just a second, then ran downstairs.
Her stocking-clad feet thump-thumped on the wooden stairs as she hurried to
the kitchen. A few seconds later she started back up the steps, and I could
tell she was taking two or three at a time, like we had when we were kids.
She burst into the room with a can of soda.

“Here,” she gasped, thrusting it into my hands. It was cold, from the
refrigerator. It had taken her less than a minute to run to the kitchen and
back. I shuddered at the implication.

It was clear that Janey, and perhaps I, had to obey commands given by
others. Someone really was trying to enslave us!

“Oh wow!” Janey smiled. “That was so totally amazing! I had to do it. I
mean, I had to for real. Good thing we have Dr. Pepper or I would have ran
all the way to the convenience store.”

“You always have Dr. Pepper,” I said, trying to concentrate. I felt like it
was the beginning of the end. If someone could make Janey, and perhaps me,
do whatever he wanted… “Oh my god! We’re screwed. We have to find out
what’s going on and stop it. Someone wants to make us- I mean… you, into
his slave and… We should go to the police.”

She was still grinning at me.

“Why are you smiling?” I finally blurted out. “This is serious shit,
Janey!” I was getting upset, and my heart was really beating like crazy.

“Sorry, I know it is, but it just makes me so happy that I brought you the
soda.” Her face brightened even more. “Tell me to do something else!
Anything! Anything not dangerous, I mean.”

I stood stiffly in the center of her bedroom. As soon as she had asked me
to command her again, I felt an overwhelming need to do just that. I need
to give her another order, I thought. I must. But I held back. The words on
this new card had imbedded themselves in my mind, too – only not quite as
deeply as they had with Janey. I fought to keep silent, but it seemed an
eventuality that I had to speak sooner or later, and that when I did I
would give her an order. She looked at me.

“Are you okay?”

It took all my will to remain silent. I even squinted, as if that would
help my determination somehow. Does it really matter, I thought? Is it
worth fighting to hold back against something so trivial? It’s not like she
told me to jump off a cliff, I reasoned. I decided to just speak and get it
over with.

“Stand on your head!” I said sharply.

She hurried into the corner next to her dresser and, planting her arms and
elbows against the carpet, swung herself onto her head. With a soft rustle
her dress fell down around her waist. I laughed in spite of myself to see
her underwear exposed… and well, because without warning a warm, happy
feeling washed over me. I knew instinctively that it was because I had done
what she had asked me to. It was kind of like a reward for obeying her.

Part of me was appalled that I liked following her simple order, but how
can you stop being happy? You can’t, of course. I forced myself to frown
but I still felt good inside.

“You can get down now,” I told Janey. She rolled onto the carpet and I
shushed her before she could speak. It was obvious she wanted me to give
her another order, and I had to keep my mind on the mystery. Otherwise we
would be in real trouble. “Tomorrow, go to the hospital, with me, and we’ll
try to find out who left those flowers in your room while I was getting
your books. They should have a list of names and maybe someone can give us
a description. I had to write my name when I first arrived, so whoever left
those flowers did, too.”

“Okay!” she said.

I wore a dress Wednesday, too. I was tired in the morning and I figured I
had already embarassed myself enough on Tuesday, I might as well try and
dress nicely. Mom kind of teased me, but it didn’t start to seem like a bad
idea until I was halfway to school. By then it was too late to turn back.
Still, I reasoned, I had a serious investigation to carry out, and I
couldn’t be distracted by rough clothes like jeans or even slacks like the
brands that the girls with poor families wear. Luckily I had forced myself
to only use a minimal amount of makeup, but I did borrow one of my mom’s
expensive necklaces.

During my second period study hall, I got a hall pass and walked to the
biology lab. Mr. Lopez is the freshman biology teacher, but he also runs
the drama club. It was actually the first time for me to see him in the
biology room in years, and he looked older than when I had had him for
Biology I. He was reading the newspaper like always.

“What can I do for you, Mouse?” he asked. He glanced at my dress. For some
stupid reason I felt like curtsying, even though I had never done so in my

“I want to ask you some questions about that bow and arrow set from the
prop room.”

He sighed. “Oh boy. I wish you kids understood how much flack a teacher
takes over things like that. I know you didn’t have anything to do with it,
but the superintendant really busted my ass on that one. That’s the last
time I skip out and let some senile geezer play babysitter. Did you know we
came this close to not having a play this year?” He pinched his thumb and
forefinger together.

“Sorry,” I said. “It was an accident.” Probably, I thought.

“Well, it was just the ‘accident’ that the school board needed to finally
‘convince’ me that we should be doing musicals to take advantage of the
choir. I guess some parents in the PTA think their kids don’t have a chance
to stand out as individuals unless they’re singing solos. I hope you like
The Peanuts because this year we’re going to be doing You’re a Good Man,
Charlie Brown.”

I groaned. I had been hoping that we would do a better play than that! It
was my senior year, for goodness sake! You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown
just sounded so… childish. I guess I’d have to read it first, but I
couldn’t help but feel disappointed. When someone mentions musicals, I
think of West Side Story or Grease. Not Snoopy.

Mr. Lopez clearly felt the same way. “No kidding,” he said.

“Well, maybe it will work out okay,” I said finally. “Anyway, I was just
curious. What play was that bow and arrow set from?”

He looked at me suspiciously. “Why do you ask? That thing should have been
thrown out years ago. It’s actually Daniels’ fault. He was drama club coach
before I came to Washington High. The play is called Season of Cupid and
it’s one of those old- Are you okay?”

I guess my sudden intake of breath startled him. Of course, I realized.
It’s so obvious. The color pink, the arrows. Cupid!

“Can I see a copy of it?” I asked, perhaps a little too excitedly. I always
get giddy and worked up over things at the most inoppurtune times, like
making progress on my first real life mystery.

“I suppose. Come with me.” He stood and folded his newspaper over the
long-necked faucet of the lab sink. “But there’s no way we can do the play.
It’s one of those Old English comedies from the classical period that only
parents of club members will pay to see.”

Now I need to explain something that might not be obvious. Do you realize
how many commands people actually give you during the course of your daily
life? Most of them are rhetorical, but they’re commands nonetheless. The
message on the second pink index card Janey had received was making me
hyper-aware of these rhetorical instructions. Have a nice day, be careful,
don’t forget next weekend’s assignment, etc. As soon as Mr. Lopez asked me
to go with him, I was aware that it was a command and I desperately wanted
to follow it.

And as before, a small part of me held off, afraid of giving in so easily.
But I need to follow him to investigate this play, I tried to rationalize.
But there was no time to think about it, because soon he was out of sight
in the corridor and I hurried to catch up. Even as the pleasant feeling of
compliance rose over me, I wondered if my rational for obeying commands was
gaining strength.

We walked to the drama club office and he unlocked one of the filing
cabinets. After a few minutes of shuffling through old folders, he pulled
out a script that had been mimeographed using one of those old style
photocopiers with the purple ink.

“Here it is,” he said. He glanced at some notes on the side. “Props
received from Pratt’s Antiques and Collectables. Two woodsman’s outfits.
One prince’s outfit. Three damsels’ gowns. One authentic set of Cupid’s bow
with quiver. One beggar’s cloak. Six militia outfits. Performed two nights,
civic auditorium, May 1965. Disaster.”

“Who wrote it?” I asked. I couldn’t see a byline on the yellowing paper.

“I don’t know,” he sighed. He seemed to be really suspicious of me for some
reason. “We don’t have the cover. But I guarantee it’s out of copyright.”

“Do you think I can borrow it?”

“Mouse, I’m not sure…”

I’m a fast reader, but reading some modernized form of Middle English or
whatever the play was really taxed me. Back in study hall, I settled down
to search for clues, eventually skimming through the play. It was one of
those “comedies” in which a bunch of different lovers get lost in the woods
and Cupid plays tricks on them. The plot mostly seemed to follow a Prince
who couldn’t get away from love-mad women. It was obviously written by a

When I hear plays like Season of Cupid are comedies (even though I know our
definitions have changed), I always think of those librarians who put
horror novels in with the mysteries. So you can’t find a good mystery
without tripping over all the gruesome books about monsters and haunted
houses. No doubt the horror fans get upset, too. If I ever become a
librarian (my dream part-time job) I will properly separate the genres.

I skimmed the play for about ten minutes before I found something that
couldn’t possibly be a coincidence:

Prince: Justinia, unto night I shall hie flighte!
Rather beneath non sweet trees she sighte.
This game hath done, I hope not cometh more
Fair Caroline, wist to play at paramour.
[He hides.] [The tree shakes.] Justinia: What, who arte thou sette hem high aloft so?
Do I espie yon frott’d visage of Cupido?

Cupid: She spied my hide place anon, parfay,
Let twice fortune play at mischief t’day!
Handly upon loves string I shall pluck;
Unto Justinias breast a shaft be struck.
[Justinia is hit.] Justinia: Help! I am pierc’d by lovelonging stronge,
Certes I be blind in fever woe begone.
Alas! Eros madness at my blood grippes.
Though dark, fast I gaze on mouth and lippes!

Prince: Spie she my face in pytche of night betoken?
I hope leaste way Justinia hath mispoken!

It wasn’t exactly clear, but after getting shot by Cupid, Justinia seemed
to be able to see the Prince’s lips – even though he was hiding in the dark
under a tree! Was I crazy, or hadn’t a similar thing happened to me?

As I looked around the study hall, I noticed all the students reading,
sleeping, and trying to finish homework due later today. How come the pink
of their lips no longer stood out like beacons to me? Or how come Janice
Anderson’s sweater wasn’t fogging my brain? A theory began to form in my
mind. At the hospital, first I had been attracted to the pink in the
flowers. But as soon as I saw Janey’s lips and her bubblegum lipstick, I
forgot all about the flowers. And as soon as I saw that neon pink index
card, I forgot all about Janey’s lips. Every time I saw a brighter shade of
pink, the others became normal again. But how much brighter, pinker, could
one go up the spectrum from neon pink?

What if the legend of Cupid was true?

I wondered about the history of dyes. I’m sure the Greeks and Romans had
dyes, but probably not pink. Probably just red or purple or whatever they
could make with berries. If someone was shot by one of Cupid’s arrows back
then, the brightest pink they’d ever see is someone else’s lips, or
flowers. Or nipples, or… well I don’t want to be crude. And whatever the
case, even if they could read they wouldn’t see any messages written in
pink like Janey and I had.

It was pretty clear that neon pink caused us to go into a trance-like
state. What if the messages written on the cards were slipping deep into
our minds, programming us at the lowest level, when the pink punched
through our brains’ defenses? In a way, we were falling in love with ideas.

And the idea was that we become someone’s slaves!

Part 2: A Sleuth and a Slave

I talked to Rob just before lunch, in our advanced math class. I wanted to
get all the details straight in my mind. The key to the case seemed to be
the flowers in the hospital. Whoever left them had to have done so when I
went out to my car to get Janey’s books. Since Rob shot Janey in the first
place, he was my number one suspect. As I went back over the events that
morning, it seemed clearer and clearer that I had arrived at Janey’s
hospital room a lot earlier than everyone else. What took them so long?

“It took me longer to get to the hospital because I had to pick up Cindy,”
Rob said, when I tried to ask him nonchalantly. “She was getting her
transcript from City Hall. I picked her up. So I didn’t bring any flowers,
though I guess I should have, huh? Is she really okay with me?”

“Yeah, she’s fine,” I said. “But some weird things are happening and I
can’t tell you all the details.”

“Like you guys trying to get voted best-dressed?” he laughed. When I
frowned at him he became serious. “Yeah okay, I know what you mean about

“You do?” I asked. “Like what?”

“Nothing. Hey, did you hear Mr. Lopez decided we’re going to do a musical
this year? We’ll be singing and dancing. You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown.”

He was obviously trying to change the subject. I wasn’t sure, but he seemed
nervous or agitated about something. As I stared at his handsome face, I
suddenly found myself wondering if his father was as rich as everyone says
he is. I mean, selling electronics doesn’t make someone super rich, but
they did have a nice house and Rob’s car was new and had cool leather
seats. I realized I was getting sidetracked and tried to concentrate.

“Rob, please be honest with me.” My voice took on a tone that I don’t
normally use, and for some reason it made my eyes feel prickly, as if I
might start crying. But I held it back. “Why did you shoot Janey? It’s
important that you tell me.”

The bell was about to ring, and we both knew it. I probably should have
picked a better time to be so direct. He turned away. “I told you, it was
an accident! I never meant to hit her!” Brett Walters looked up from the
math problem he was trying to concentrate on and glanced at us for a

I wondered about what Rob said… Two years ago, three years ago, I would
have believed him. But now we were all so grown up, and he hung out with
people I didn’t even know. What was he hiding?

Jane Ann and Patrick verified that Rob had picked Cindy up at City Hall.
They rode to the hospital in his car, and I couldn’t imagine that both of
them would lie to me. Some people seem so preoccupied with other things
(volleyball tournaments, for example) that it’s hard to suspect them of
anything. Still, I couldn’t let anyone out of my sight.

That included Toby. I had to keep my feelings for him in check. Everyone
was guilty until I could prove their alibis. Though really, I couldn’t
imagine my crush as some sort of enslaving pervert! Staring at Janey’s butt
is one thing, brainwashing her is quite another! Of course I knew that it
could be several people working together, too. That’s how a lot of
detective novels fool the reader. One person commits half the murders then
another does the other half. So the clues get all jumbled up in the
reader’s head. I’ve never successfully guessed the murderer in an Agatha
Christie novel!

Anyway, after lunch the oppurtunity to interview Toby arose, and I struck.
His friends were doing something in the hallway with a skateboard someone
brought to school, so I quickly ran over to his table and sat down next to
him. He was pretty surprised to see me, but he tried to play it cool.

“What’s up, Mouse?”

Something strange happened next that might be hard for me to explain
clearly. It took me a few seconds to get everything straight in my head. I
felt like my life was out of sync or something, because sitting next to
him, I suddenly felt no signs of the crush I had carried with me for the
past two years! What’s going on? I thought. This is weird. Looking at Toby,
and his greasy leather jacket and the chain hanging out of his pocket, he
seemed so… lower class.

With a mental start that I tried to hide, I realized it was that stupid
“Teen Princess” thing effecting me again. I am not a princess, I told
myself. I’m not I’m not I’m not! Still I had these dumb little fantasies in
my head. Like, what if my real dad was secretly royalty, and had to go into
hiding or something? It seemed sort of plausible in a stupid way. Anyway,
no matter how I tried to consider it, Toby now seemed so unattractively
poor. I felt ashamed that my emotions were so easily manipulated, but how
could I help feeling the way I felt? It’s like how I used to love My Little
Pony but now I think it’s ridiculous. I can’t help feeling this way.

Is it so easy to change who a person is?

I wanted to get the interview over as soon as possible. “What did you do
after Rob shot Janey?” I stammered.

“Huh?” he grunted. The question definitely took him by surprise.

“On Sunday. When everyone went to the hospital, where were you?”

“What are you, playing cop?” he laughed.

“No, it’s just that I’m trying to figure where everyone was, and when. I
drove Janey’s books to the hospital. Rob picked Cindy up at City Hall.
Patrick and Jane Ann were with them, and Eddie and those freshman girls
were supposedly in his car following them. You didn’t, for example, go buy
a bunch of flowers?”

“Yeah, right. It’s none of your business what I do with my time. So Janey
got a bunch of flowers from a secret admirer. What’s the big deal?”

I pounced. “How did you know about that?”

“I didn’t. I saw them in her room because as a matter of fact I happened to
stop by, and besides, you just mentioned them. I think your Miss Marple
novels are going to your head. Tell me, what do you really want to know?”

I actually tried to cover my mouth with my hands to stop the words from
coming out. But he had phrased it as a command and after a day of “keep
your eyes on your own paper, read silently until the bell, pass your papers
to the front, etc.” I just didn’t have the energy to fight it, and I
blurted out immediately:

“Who’s sending Janey neon pink notes.”

He smiled. I couldn’t study his reactions in detail because I felt such a
sense of relief at getting the secret off my chest that I sighed and for a
moment was able to relax. I hadn’t realized how burdensome it had been, but
now I definitely felt much better. The problem was, did Toby know I had to
struggle not to obey commands? In fact, as far as the mystery pervert was
concerned, did he (or she) know I was even effected at all? Janey was the
intended target – I had only become involved due to a stupid accident.

I realized Toby was talking. I had to get away from him before he ordered
me to do something else, whether intentionally or not. If he was guilty
then I didn’t want him to know I was under Cupid’s power, too. If he was
innocent, well, I still didn’t want someone like him ordering me around!

“Love letters, that’s funny. Maybe you should do a handwriting analysis, or
dust the paper for fingerprints? Or maybe do a chemical check for perfume,
especially if they’re pink. Maybe Janey’s involved in a lesbian love

Men. They must think about lesbians every waking moment. That, or breasts,
anyway. I stood and started walking away to finish my lunch and collect my

“By the way,” he said. “I wouldn’t trust that cheerleader friend of yours
or her boyfriend. Is City Hall really open on Sundays?”

After the last bell I changed into my gym clothes, just to prove to myself
I was still in control of my life. It wasn’t easy and to be honest I
couldn’t see how I’d ever put up with this stuff. I shoved my dress into my
locker then looked everywhere for Janey. I finally found her (I saw her
dress out of the corner of my eye) staring into the school parking lot from
the window in Coach Nelson’s tiny office. Coach Nelson wasn’t in. When I
walked between her and the window she smiled, but continued staring at the
cars outside.

“Hi Keiko!”

“What are you doing?”

“Looking out,” she said matter-of-factly.

“For what?”

“Oh, nothing really.”

“Well come on, let’s go.”

“Yes sir!” she chirped, winking at me. She seemed to really be getting into
this “perfect slave” mindset. It scared me. At least she wasn’t responding
with “yes, master” and walking along stiffly with her arms outstretched
like a zombie. Things were already out of hand as it was. I needed to step
up the investigation. I knew she couldn’t help herself, but still I was a
little disgusted with her.

“Have you been doing everything anyone asks you to all day?”

“Of course!” she said. “It’s so nice, and it makes me feel so good.”

I knew what she meant more than I wanted her to realize. “Can’t you see
that’s wrong? Doesn’t it piss you off?”

She shrugged. “I know it should, but no. I like it! Like duh, I’m a slave,

“We are in deep shit,” I whispered to myself.



I decided we should go to the hospital first, then afterwards stop by the
mall so Janey could finally get her car. As I drove I thought about what
Toby had said to me. Did Rob really pick Cindy up at City Hall on Sunday?
Patrick and his girlfriend confirmed that, but thinking about it I felt
sure that Toby was right, that public buildings were closed on the
weekends. I was almost sure they were. However the library was open on
Sunday, definitely. Still… the more I thought about it, the more I was
sure that someone was lying.

I guess I need to explain that the school had determined years ago that all
class transcripts had to be officially stamped from the city. The story I
always heard was that some seniors got a bunch of school stationery from
the office and sent their own transcripts with straight A grades to some
colleges a while back, so Washington High was being more careful these
days. I remembered that I myself was scheduled to pick up my transcript
this week. As if I don’t have enough to worry about, I have to market
myself to the colleges I’ve chosen, too!

At the hospital, we found the same battle axe nurse who stopped me in the
hall on Sunday. It took her a moment to recognize Janey, but when she did
her sour face became sunny and kind.

“Well, don’t you look different! All beautiful, like a bridesmaid or an

She treated Janey with such compassion and kindness, asking how she felt,
patting her on the head, etc., that I changed my opinion about her. She was
a good nurse once a person made it past her gruff exterior. Finally we got
around to business, and she located the visitors’ log and I greedily
scanned the names, Janey peering over my shoulder.

“Can we have a copy of this?” she asked. “It’s really important.”

As I remembered, my name was first on the list. But on the line just below
mine was a sloppy signature that I could barely make out. It appeared to
read “Johnny Johnson.” I sighed. An obviously fake name. Wonderful. Whoever
this was, they had brought the flowers, at least. After Johnny Johnson came
Rob and Cindy and a bunch of other drama club members. Toby’s name was near
the end of the log, so he had stopped by after all. Then Janey’s parents
and some other names that were probably relatives. And Mr. Lopez. About
fourteen people. Just to make sure we’d have to go over the list carefully.

“Can you tell us anything about this person?” I asked, pointing to Johnny
Johnson. “Do you remember I went out to my car to get Janey’s books? That’s
when he – or I guess it could be a she – must have come. It is important.”

The nurse frowned. “Some fella I think, but I can’t remember much more.
Brought some flowers.”

“Yes!” I exclaimed excitedly. “Did he have black hair, brown? Was he short
or tall? Was he a really old man? Did he have a leather jacket?”

“Sorry,” the nurse said. “I can’t remember what he looked like. He had so
many flowers I could barely see him. There are a lot of patients in this
ward and I can’t keep track of all the visitors.”

Well, I supposed we were making a little progress, at least.

After picking up Janey’s car at the mall (and resisting the urge to check
up on some sales recently advertised on TV) we returned to the suburbs,
Janey in the lead. When she began speeding faster and cutting her stops
short, I realized why she was in such a hurry. She wanted to see if there
was another note in her mailbox! I don’t usually speed, but in this case I
decided it was necessary.

Her mailbox had completely slipped my mind! We probably should have been
staking it out instead of searching for clues at the hospital. Would there
be another note, and if so what would it say? Don’t be so curious, I told
myself. Suddenly I realized a clever way to beat this “Johnson” character
at his own game. Janey had to do whatever anyone said, right? So I could
just order her not to read the next note. Easy as apple pie. This pervert
had definitely chosen the wrong girls to screw with!

I pulled into Janey’s driveway a second after she did, as she was running
across the yard to the mailbox. Quickly I rolled down my window and yelled
at her.

“Don’t read it!” I shouted. “Don’t read any pink notes!”

But when I stepped out of my car she was already opening her mailbox and
reaching inside. What’s the matter with her? I thought. Why isn’t she
stopping? “Stop!” I yelled. “That’s an order!” But it was too late. Though
it was just after five o’clock and there was plenty of daylight left, as
her hand emerged with the bundle of mail – including another neon pink
index card – it was like a flare in the night. We both were blinded.

She dropped all but the card and stood, slightly hunched over, slack-jawed,
staring at the card. Before I could help myself I was standing next to her,
breathing heavily with excitement. Though I was transfixed, my mind seemed
a great deal less muddled than the last few times, and my palm didn’t
tingle at all this time. The effects of Cupid’s poison were weakening. I
felt a hopeful feeling. Still, I was unable to tear my eyes away from the
crisp, pure pink.

At first I was confused, but then I realized why I couldn’t read the words
on the card: Janey was holding it upside down. I don’t think she noticed,
and I didn’t feel like telling her. At least, not while I was focusing on
the beautiful pink… After a few minutes, I was able to read what it said.
Like before, I experienced a mild deja vu.


I peeked through the curtains down into Janey’s yard. A newspaper, part of
a philosophy-by-mail course, and a magazine about Chris Callaway threatened
to blow pass the hedge and into her driveway. The sun was setting.

“You left the mail out in the grass.”

“I’ll get it tomorrow,” Janey said. “Or Mom will get it.” We were in her
bedroom. She was holding a plate of warmed-up leftover meatloaf and mashed
potatoes in her lap, but had only eaten half. I had put mine on her bed
because my stomach felt queasy. The mashed potatoes were from a mix and the
texture was different from what my mom made. It was flakey and sort of
pasty like soggy Grape Nuts. I closed the curtains and sat back down, with
my back against her bed.

“It just makes good sense,” she said, chewing a bite of meatloaf. I looked
at her.

“Pleasuring men, I mean,” she said, swallowing. She put her plate down on
the carpet and stood up. She twirled and I saw a spot of gravy had gotten
on her lace. She stared at her white arms, then looked down at her body.
Maybe it was just the angle at which I was sitting, but her eyes seemed
really bright.

“I mean, Keiko, we’ve got boobs. We’re smooth and beautiful. We’re women,
we’ve got… you know. We can do things. Lots of things. Have you ever
thought of all the things we can do, Keiko? We can do so many things. For
men. We can do things even when we’re not doing things.”

She walked to her window and pulled the curtains apart, then leaned almost
obscenely against the glass. Her right hand clasped her butt and I saw her
breasts were partly flattened against the window. The dark window was like
a portal threatening to swallow her up. I knew the things she was saying
were crazy, but that didn’t stop some weaker part of my mind from agreeing.

“I need to go now,” I mumbled. I started to get up.

“Not yet! I have an idea.” She turned to me and smiled. There was something
in her face that I didn’t like. Something in the way she was looking at me.
“Bring me that Dr. Pepper!” she suddenly ordered.

I turned to look at the can on her dresser, the one I had commanded her to
get from the kitchen yesterday. I wanted to bring it to her. She had
ordered me and my fingers itched to retrieve it. I could have it in my
right hand by taking one step to the dresser, and then pass it to my left
hand while taking two steps to the window and Janey would have it. I closed
my eyes, trying to think of anything but the dark red can.

“Keiko,” Janey said sweetly, and a bit sarcastically, “Would you please be
so kind as to fetch me that Dr. Pepper from the top of my dresser?”

I couldn’t resist. It’s just a stupid can of soda, I thought. Screw it. I
had it in my hand and was one step toward the window before I even opened
my eyes. I gave it to Janey. She laughed as she opened it, and I felt a
twinge of satisfaction. She looked outside.

“I wonder if he’s in there,” Janey said. She handed me the can.


“My neighbor,” she said. “You remember, Mr. Beergut.” I looked at her
neighbor’s house and felt a bit of a prickle on the back of my neck as I
realized he might be able to see us. The lights in the room across from
Janey’s bedroom were off, but the first floor ones were on.

“Drink the Dr. Pepper,” Janey suddenly said. I turned the can around and
raised it to my lips, intending to take only a sip.

“Drink it, drink it all now,” Janey whispered loudly. Instinctively I
poured it into my mouth. What am I doing? I thought. It was warm,
room-temperature and too sweet and burned my throat as I gulped it down. I
choked as I swallowed some air but still kept chugging it. It was fizzing
in my mouth and I felt it dribbing down my chin. “Faster!” I grasped the
can in both hands and raised the bottom, crushing my nose, my heart
pounding, as I tried to open my throat and pour it directly into my
stomach. A thin stream of the cola was warm on my neck as it ran down into
the collar of my gym shirt.

At last the can emptied and I tried to swallow properly, but my mouth was
still too full and more Dr. Pepper cascaded down my chin. I gasped for air
as I dropped the can onto the carpet, wheezing like some old woman. My
shirt was soaked. Janey was grinning and all I could feel was
disappointment at failing to drink it all.

“What’s wrong with you?” I gurgled, nearly gagging. My tongue and
especially my throat felt like they had been burned by acid. My neck was
all sticky and my shirt was glued to my boobs.

“Keiko, you really are beautiful.”

“What?” I almost shouted. But there was something about her eyes…

My heart felt like it was on some kind of twisted ferris wheel, going up
and down at the same time. I was standing too close to Janey but there was
nothing I could do except lick the Dr. Pepper from my chin and drip onto
the carpet and shiver as her glance washed over me.

She nodded at the window. “Just think about how happy he’ll be to see two
beautiful women, actresses, performing just for him…” She reached out a
single finger and lightly poked my right boob, in the tiny wrinkle just
above where the wet fabric of my shirt met my bra cup. I took a sharp
breath and felt the damp shirt constrict my lungs. I realized what she
meant, and shuddered, disgusted.

But also intrigued. I forced myself to shudder again, but it was just token
resistance. Janey cupped my right breast fully in her palm and the wetness
in my shirt made her hand feel warmer than it probably was. My stupid
nipples started getting hard, especially the right one, and I realized that
I could not get the thought of Janey’s peeping tom neighbor out of my head.
Janey and I were probably perfectly framed in her window. Unconciously I
turned a few degrees, so my chest would be more visible to the neighboring
house. Fight it, I thought. You’re stronger than some ancient St.
Valentine’s Day magic. But part of me wasn’t sure if I was, and my nipples
were awfully hard. Janey squeezed my breast and I made some kind of strange
sound in my throat.

“I love the little hairs on your forehead,” she whispered.

She licked her lips and leaned against me. I felt her lips brush against my
forehead, just below my bangs. It felt really good for some reason. I guess
I should explain that I have kind of a light down or something on my
forehead, like soft peach fuzz – but the hairs are really tiny and thin and
not at all disgusting. They’re invisible unless a bright light hits my head
from the side. Anyway, I’m short and the top of my head comes up to Janey’s
nose, so it was really easy for her to kiss my forehead. It was about a
minute before she stopped and looked at me.

She peeled the neck of my shirt away from my shoulders and the tops of my
boobs. My right one felt suddenly cool as she removed her hand and slowly
drew my shirt out from my shorts. All this time I had been looking sideways
into the darkness between her house and the neighbor’s, but I turned and
looked into her eyes. They were wide, focused and determined. And bright.
The air rising from the space between my chest and gym shirt was warm,
damp, and smelled of Dr. Pepper. There were light brown droplets in my

“This isn’t you,” I said. “Janey, think about what you’re doing.”

She smiled. “Okay.”

She grasped my shirt firmly. I raised my arms complacently, blinking as she
lifted it over my head. Was her neighbor watching us? Was he getting hard?
Was this his fantasy? Two high school girls fondling each other at their
bedroom window? As disgusting as it was, it was also… exciting. Before I
could stop myself, with both hands I pressed my palms up against Janey’s
chest. Awkwardly I felt her, my thumbs slipping into her cleavage.

I had never felt another girl’s boobs before. As if! And yes it did disgust
me, but it was also interesting to feel boobs on someone else as kind of a
comparison. Her chest felt more “fatty” than mine, probably because her
breasts were a bit bigger. Janey’s arms crisscrossed mine and we both held
each other’s chests. I felt myself warming below, growing flush and wet. I
sighed in someone else’s voice that was perfectly, clearly, recognizable as
mine. I couldn’t fight it anymore.

“Janey…” I said. It was just a word.

She kissed me. It was soft and quick. I hadn’t had a boyfriend for more
than two years and I had forgotten how it felt. Her hands were sliding away
from my bra, which I felt like I could wriggle out of. What would it be
like to see two young actresses, bare-chested, embracing at their window in
a moment of soft passion? I closed my eyes and opened my mouth and she
kissed me deeply. I had Dr. Pepper breath and she had meatloaf breath and I
was excited and aroused and tingly, her dress had fallen away from her pale
shoulders like some kind of flower petals in the moonlight, and we caressed
each other because it felt good and right and most of all because we were
giving a peeping tom, a man, the most exciting night of his life.

I woke up not trusting my own feelings. It was two hours before my alarm
was set to ring. I sat up in my bed and became dizzy and then nauseated as
I thought about the things Janey and I had done in her bedroom. I had
enjoyed doing… lesbian things. Girl girl stuff. Blech! I looked at my
hands, hands that had explored my best friend’s body. They looked the same.
I felt my lips. They were the same, too. But I was different. All because
Janey had wanted to indirectly “pleasure” her stupid fat neighbor. It was
even more ridiculous the more I thought of it. We didn’t even have proof
that he had… “came.”

It was Thursday. Things were going too far. I needed to talk to my mom and
stepfather about these things, but I knew there was no way I could mention
the notes. I felt restless in bed, confused about my life and one step away
from the funny farm.

I decided to make my parents breakfast in bed.

I put on one of the robes I rarely wore and padded down to the kitchen. I’m
not a grand master chef, but I can handle making breakfasts. While I worked
on the eggs and bacon, I felt my sluggish mind slip into gear. In mystery
stories the culprit is always the last person you suspect. “Johnson” was
probably Toby or Rob, but I couldn’t leave out anyone. I knew for sure I
was innocent, and Janey hadn’t delivered the flowers to herself. There were
any number of suspects, including a few that I was just starting to
consider. But somehow I suspected “Johnson” was connected to the Washington
High drama club.

For example, Mr. Lopez. He told us on Friday that the reason he was missing
Sunday’s drama club meeting was so he could pick up a special order of
champagne for himself and his wife. It was supposedly their anniversary. I
wondered if there was some way I could prove it. When you work with a
director on a tight schedule in charge of dozens of inexperienced actors
and actresses you really get to know his mannerisms and what his face can
and can’t do. The way he had looked at me out of the corner of his eye when
I asked him about Season of Cupid wasn’t quite right. And there was
something else. That old guy who was hanging around the gym, supposedly
supervising us. He hadn’t done a thing to stop Rob from shooting the first
arrow into the ceiling or the second at Janey. Who was he? I had never seen
him before. In fact, as I thought more about Sunday morning, he might have
been the one to leave the prop storage closet unlocked, too. I added him to
my mental list.

Of course I had to be missing something. Something was nagging me in the
back of my mind about the notes themselves, but I couldn’t get a grasp on
it. However, in a bit of ingenuity I had stolen the most recent note from
Janey before leaving her house, after our… encounter. So I could inspect
it in depth. The notes were the biggest clues we had, and I hadn’t really
focused on them yet! (Well, maybe because I couldn’t focus on them
properly, I was so “in love” with their pink color.)

I finished brewing the coffee and the trays were ready. It was just before
six o’clock, which was when I figured my mom and stepfather usually woke
up. I balanced a tray in each arm and carefully manuevered myself upstairs.
I sat my mother’s cereal down on the carpet and knocked on the door. There
were a few mumbles from inside.

“Breakfast in bed!” I said. I opened the door and they were rubbing the
sleep out of their eyes. My mother looked at the clock on their nightstand
then gave me a sleepy smile.

“None-chan, what’s this all about?”

“I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d make you guys breakfast.”

My stepfather’s hairy chest was half-hidden by the sheets. His arm was
around my mother and I thought about how lucky she was to have him. “This
is for you…” He sat up as I placed the heavy tray over his lap. I almost
forgot about my mother’s food as I allowed my hand to rest on his arm. His
forearms were really big! I shook my head as I remembered he was my
stepfather. What was I doing? I hurried outside to get my mom’s tray.

“Hey this is great!” my stepfather said. “You even put sugar on the toast
like in fancy restaurants.”

I smiled as I reentered their bedroom. I placed my mother’s tray over her
lap. She was frowning. I didn’t realize why until I saw the trays next to
each other. What had I been thinking about? My stepfather’s plates were
overflowing with eggs and bacon and toast. All I had made my mother was a
bowl of cereal, which was probably soggy… At least I had made her coffee,

“I don’t think this is very funny,” she said.

I ran out of their room, crying.

I had only my yellow dress left and it was my least favorite. I had to get
the others cleaned as soon as possible. Or better yet, go shopping. Until
then I decided to wear one of my nicer, longer skirts and my really
expensive black blouse with the off-center collar.

I couldn’t concentrate on getting ready for school. All I could think about
was the latest note, and how it was effecting me.


My concious mind knew it was bullshit, but unconciously, like if I sort of
let my mind drift, “pleasuring men” didn’t seem wrong. I guess if you think
about it, it’s not really sexist bullshit out of some men’s magazine. Men
are built to pleasure women, too. We are opposites, after all. There are
two sides to the coin – at least that’s what I rationalized; but I hadn’t
really thought that way before.

I had to stop myself from being brainwashed like this. How long was this
going to last? Shouldn’t the effects of that gunk have worn off by now?
Putting on dresses and makeup all the time was one thing, but being
compelled to follow orders, and now stuff involving sex, was much more
serious. I didn’t want to turn into some bimbo airhead!

I guess I should mention that I’m not the most sexually experienced girl.
Even though I am a senior, I’m still a virgin technically. It’s not that
I’m a prude, but I just never wanted to have sex badly enough with the few
guys I dated. They were cute, mostly, but it just seemed to me that sex was
something I could look forward to when I was more mature. I thought Janey
was the same way, but we never really talked about this stuff in depth,
probably because it’s embarassing. Last night, what we had done with our
hands and mouths… I supposed it counted as sex but I wasn’t really sure.

Of course like all girls there have been times (okay, many times) when I
wished my fantasy lover would appear and take me in his arms… Maybe I’m
naive to have always thought of sex the way it was explained in health
class, as an act of passion and sharing between a man and a woman. Now this
stupid latest note was making me think of sex as just something I could do
for a guy, to make him happy.

Something bothered me. I had explicitly ordered Janey not to read
yesterday’s note! But she had anyway. I couldn’t forget that. I thought I
had found a loophole, because she was a “perfect slave.” Why hadn’t she
obeyed me? Now I thought I understood. One of the notes had stated that she
would read all of the following ones. Maybe commands weren’t strong enough
to contradict what was written on the notes.

“None-chan! Can I come in?”

It was my mother. If only I could tell her what was really going on, but I
didn’t dare. How would she react if she knew I was having… erotic
thoughts about my stepfather!?

There was still an hour before I had to leave for school. I opened the
door, and I think Mom had one of those “mother” moments and knew the best
thing to do was give me a hug. We sat on my bed and I tried to explain what
was happening in vague terms, how I wasn’t sure who I was anymore, how
Janey and I were going to be separating for college, and a million other
things on my mind. Of course I couldn’t tell her directly about the notes.
She combed my hair with her hands.

“It’s going to be okay,” she said. “Believe me, everyone in your class is
going through the same things. It’s a stressful time, but I’ve watched you
grow into a really strong and capable young woman. I mean it. Your grades
are fine, you’ve got great friends.”

“I’ve got one best friend. The others I’m not so sure about. I don’t even
know Rob anymore.”

She laughed. “Oh, Rob will be Rob. I think you know you’ve got plenty of
friends. Yesterday before you came home I saw your cheerleader friend
outside. I told her you were probably at Janey’s.”

“Cindy?” I asked. That was puzzling. Maybe she was looking for Rob? I
wondered if she knew that he hung out here sometimes after school. I hoped
she hadn’t seen Janey and I through the window last night! If she had, the
whole school would know and I would have to find the nearest cliff and
throw myself off of it!

“Everyone worries about graduation,” Mom continued. “But you’ll never lose
contact with good friends. I still meet my high school friends every now
and then. You’ll still keep in touch with Janey, even if you’re a thousand
miles apart.”

“But we’re turning into different people,” I mumbled. My eyes were
watering. Why do I always start crying all the time?

“You’ve still got the play to do. That will be fun.”

“Yeah, but we’re doing You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown. It’s a musical and
I suck at singing. It’s just that, I feel like I don’t have any control
over my life.”

“None-chan, you worry too much. Worrying never helped anybody. Things are
going to work out fine. You’ll see. I’m proud of you. Now you’d better
start getting ready. You’ve got to go to City Hall today to get the stamped
paper with your grades. I’ll write you a note.” She patted me on the head,
and walked to the door. “Don’t worry,” she said.

I decided not to, and felt a little better already.

There are a lot of boys at George Washington High School.

I noticed them getting off buses and pulling up in their cars and walking
by the school sign and waiting in the hallways for the first bell to ring
and… I remember reading in our science textbook that the population of
Earth is about 52% female, 48% male. So us females outnumber the males. But
that’s still a lot of men! I had never really thought about it before,
maybe because I always found English more interesting than science.

Right away I found myself in trouble. I opened the door for some cute,
shorter freshman guys like it was the most natural thing in the world. But
I’m a senior! I dropped the door handle like it was the wrong end of a hot
skillet when I realized what I was doing. Even though my mom had told me
not to, I started worrying. Then of course that upset me because I really
didn’t want to let her down.

Get a grip, Keiko, I thought. You are not a slave and your purpose on this
planet is not pleasuring men!

I tried to fight it, honestly I did. But my mind was swarmed by sexual
thoughts about practically every guy I saw. I saw a bulge in Tommy
Jackson’s bluejeans and I thought about ways I could get my hands on it…
I swerved at the last minute when I realized I was walking too close to
some chubby kid whose name I forget, maybe with the unconcious intention of
brushing my breasts against his arm… I put my pen back in my pen case
when I saw a doodle on my English notebook looked like a penis…

Homeroom wasn’t even halfway finished, and I was thinking, maybe even
acting, like… a slut! How could I concentrate on solving this mystery and
breaking Cupid’s curse or whatever it was when all I could think about was
putting some football player’s dick in my mouth?

I had to be smarter than the notes. The answer must be moderation, I
thought. Wearing dresses, for example, had allowed me to concentrate
yesterday and the day before without being bothered too much that I was
supposed to be a teen princess, of all stupid things. The most recent note
had reprogrammed part of my unconciousness to want to “pleasure men” –
granted – but that didn’t necessarily have to equal sexual pleasure. That
was the loophole I had to concentrate on. If I just went out of my way to
help a few men here and there, like opening doors… maybe I could get
through the day without grabbing some guy’s hands and shoving them onto my
boobs. Besides, I was already planning on leaving early, right after lunch.
I had to go to City Hall, but more importantly I needed to do some more
sleuthing, and get to Janey’s mailbox. I had an idea how to toss a huge
monkey wrench into “Johnson’s” plans.

If I was feeling eager to please around all the guys at school, I shuddered
to think what Janey was going through. But did she even care? Probably not,
because the way the notes were screwing with her mind she couldn’t even
fight back. Every time I thought about her I remembered how we had grappled
and twisted against the window… I couldn’t blame her for what she had
done to me. That wasn’t the Janey I knew.

As it happened, I rescued her just in the nick of time.

There were two pieces of news floating through the hallways when I left
homeroom. First, Rob and Cindy had broken up the night before after having
quite a fight in the school parking lot. Second, Janey had exposed herself
(according to the gossip from Kelly) to half the football team in the boy’s
locker room before the first bell. I found her in the hallway outside her
homeroom, making out with some junior guy who always wears a sweatshirt,
surrounded by a surprised and horrified group of senior girls. It was
really disgusting. I grabbed her arm and yanked her away from the boy and
whispered in her ear as I dragged her through the crowd.

“Don’t say anything and follow me.” Thank god she had to do what I said. We
passed one of the nosy assistant principals just rounding the corner.
Another few seconds and Janey and whatshisname would have had detention for

I crammed the two of us into an empty stall in the third floor girls’
bathroom and pondered the situation. No one else was on the third floor, so
we had some privacy. I knocked the toilet seat down with my foot and sat
her on it. Her dress was so wide that it almost completely hid the toilet
bowl. What can I do? I thought. I needed a pair of handcuffs; I had to keep
her from running out and trying to sleep with as many guys as possible.

Poor Janey. I realized I hadn’t even had a real, honest conversation with
her since all this began. I honestly believe that a requirement for “best
friends” status is the ability to participate in interesting conversations
about all kinds of topics. Sometimes Janey and I talked about the weirdest
things, and a bystander would probably think we were on acid or something.
Granted, recently Janey was fixated on crazy schemes to make Rob dump Cindy
and whisk her away in a whirlwind romance, but I guess I had had foolish
ideas about Toby, too. Though I never considered using blackmail or voodoo
or astrology on him those two months when he was going out with that
exchange student… And now Rob and Cindy had broken up on their own… or
had they? Something told me that it had to be related to our predicament in
some way. Rob was available. And here was my best friend ready and willing
to do anything for any male.

Poor Janey. I couldn’t tell her, “don’t pleasure men,” because the commands
on the note would supercede anything I ordered her to do. And I couldn’t
tell her to go home for the day because I needed her to be here at school
for my plan with her mailbox to work. Could she stay in the third floor
girls’ bathroom all day? Well, there was only one way to find out.

“Okay, you can talk now,” I said.

“Keiko!” she whined. “What are you doing? I have to get back to that guy I
was with!”

She pulled me into an embrace, resting her chin heavily on my shoulder. She
was really wearing too much perfume. At first I thought she was going to
try a repeat of the terrible things we had done last night, but she only
wanted to hug me. I felt her chest pushing into mine – something I never
would have really noticed before yesterday.

“It’s important to me,” she murmurred, sounding on the verge of tears.
“It’s my purpose to make men happy. Our purpose. We’re in this together, I
thought. I know you want to do it, too. Keiko, it’s why we have our bodies
and, and.. and, you know, it’s what we were made for. It’s so simple and
basic and you don’t understand it!”

I understood it all too well. It was simple. And a seductive philosophy,
too, if one could call it that. But I knew I wouldn’t have thought so two
days ago. And there was no way I was going to sacrifice my… “sexuality”
or whatever you call it, like that.

“You’re wasting your time trying to find out who’s behind all this,” she

“No!” I said, hugging her tighter. “We are in this together but we will not
be turned into slaves!”

She pushed me away. “Let me go,” she said. “Open the door and let me go
fuck whoever I want!” I released her and opened the stall door before I
knew what I was doing. It felt good to let her go, but I knew it wasn’t
right. “Don’t tell me not to go,” she added.

Which was precisely what I was about to do. My lips suddenly felt rubbery,
but two could play this game. “Tell me to tell you not to go!” I said.
Commands within commands within… Janey halted in front of the sinks and

“Tell me not to go,” her reflection pleaded at me. I happily obeyed.

With Janey safely sitting in the fourth stall of the third floor restroom,
I attacked a day at Washington High as the “ready to please” Keiko, not the
“sexually sensible” Keiko that I hoped would soon reappear. Having new
thoughts in my head and what I guess was a new personality didn’t worry me
as much as it should have, but I made sure always to think conciously about
what I was doing. Basically, I acted like I was the same old Mouse that
everyone knew and loved, not the new Mouse who somewhere deep down inside
craved to use her body in the way Mother Nature intended. (Once again I
should point out that I am a really good actress and it’s a shame that I
haven’t been utilized more in the past plays.)

I hoped the only difference anyone noted was that I was extremely helpful.
If a guy dropped a pencil, I picked it up. That only happened twice, but I
was there to get it each time. I volunteered to push the VCR back to the AV
Room for Mr. Sanderson. I passed out papers, collected notebooks, raised my
hand (except in English, because I didn’t really care about pleasing Mrs.
Richards), complimented guys, and smiled at everything that had a dick
hanging between its legs. You’d be surprised how a smile brightens
someone’s day.

It totally worked. All the nickel and dime stuff kept me from throwing
myself on someone.

As the lunch bell rang, I went to the payphone. The book of yellow pages on
the chain was missing quite a few pages, but all of the liquor store
numbers were still intact. I dialed them in more or less alphabetical

“Hello, this is Mrs. Lopez. My husband James picked up some champagne from
your store on Sunday and I’d like to order the same vintage for my literary
club meeting next month. Oh, you don’t? Well, sorry to bother you. Yes, it
must have been another store. Thanks. Bye.”

It was a gamble, but one that paid off in less than ten minutes and only
$3.25 in quarters. None of the shops knew what I was talking about, until I
called Gernhardt’s Liquors. The guy on the phone said he’d be happy to get
an order of Alain Thienot for me, and how many bottles would I be needing?
I pretended to get confused and offered to call back after taking a head
count of the club members.

So I had at least proved Mr. Lopez’s alibi. Though it didn’t necessarily
make him innocent. I was thinking more and more that, whoever “Johnson”
was, he was simply taking advantage of the mishap with Cupid’s bow and
arrow. I still suspected Rob, but unless he had been secretly training in
archery there’s no way he could have accurately targetted Janey from all
the way across the gym! A more likely scenario was that someone who knew
what those arrows were capable of was taking advantage of the accident…
but who else except Mr. Lopez would know, how would they know, and how
could they have acted so quickly?

I bought four chicken sandwiches from the snack bar, went upstairs, and
gave two to Janey. We ate them silently in the bathroom stall. (It was my
first time to eat in a school bathroom, let alone any bathroom, and it was
definitely gross.) Janey couldn’t say anything because she was under strict
orders to stay sitting on the toilet until the final bell, without speaking
or trying to get anyone’s attention.

“Janey, I’m trying,” I said. “Really, I’m doing the best I can.” I didn’t
know what to say to her.

I decided to talk to Cindy before cashing in my mother’s “get out of school
free” card.

When we were kids, I went to Cindy’s tenth birthday party, which her
parents threw at some fancy restaurant that I’ve never been to since. And
she came over to my house once to copy some biology notes in the eighth
grade. But otherwise we’ve just kind of been friends at school. Like I said
before, sometimes we’re close when she isn’t being a bitch, but with
cheerleading practice and those huge boobs I guess she doesn’t have time to
keep any really close friends. She has her clique but I doubt any two of
them are as close as Janey and I.

The cafeteria seemed quieter than usual. At first I couldn’t find Cindy or
Rob. Neither were sitting at the popular seniors’ table. I scanned the
faces and finally found Rob off by himself at a table in the corner where a
group of freshman usually sat. I guess when they broke up, Cindy got
custody of the lunch table. A tray lay on the table where Cindy usually
sat. Where was she?

Toby was also missing. His friends were at their usual spot but he was
gone. He sometimes finshed his lunch early (I watched him often enough to
know) and went to the gym to stand behind the bleachers, but always in a
group with his friends. Every now and then when the cafeteria serves
stringbean and gravy casserole he doesn’t eat anything; he goes to the
computer room instead. But today’s lunch was some kind of cheese pasta. I
wondered where he was. The thought of he and Cindy in a closet somewhere
making out popped into my head. I almost laughed at the image but then I
felt slightly miserable as I realized it should make me jealous, not

I walked to the table in the far corner. Rob nodded slowly at me.

“Hey,” I said, sitting down next to him. He looked like a kicked puppy. His
outer shell of charming arrogance was gone and in a strange way without it
he was no longer handsome. My heart went out to him and I felt responsible
in some way. But he and Cindy had dated almost as long as the class couple,
Brett and Flash, and had had some stormy times before, so there was no
reason to believe they couldn’t patch up whatever argument had caused
today’s break-up.

“I heard about the split.”

“Yeah,” he said, sighing. “I really fucked up.”

Guys always beat themselves up over women. They shouldn’t have to.
Especially guys like Rob, who are good-looking and dress nicely. Rob could
probably support three material girls like Cindy on his father’s allowance.

“Where is she?” I asked.

He glanced over at the popular seniors’ table.

“Who cares? Where’s Janey? I haven’t seen her all day.”

“She went home,” I lied.

I leaned closer to him and began massaging his shoulders. I’m not a
masseuse or anything, but I could see he was tense even before I touched
him. He jerked a bit but let me squeeze his shoulders and rub the back of
his neck. His deltoids or whatever you call them were thick with muscle.
How do guys get muscle like that?

“Hey, thanks Mouse!”

“My mom said Cindy stopped by our house yesterday. Any idea why?”

“Well, maybe because you’re sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong? At
least that’s the way she put it. Let’s not talk about her, okay?”

Why should Cindy care if I was asking questions about the accident with
Cupid’s bow and arrow? Unless she had something to hide… Even though I
couldn’t imagine her being smart enough to be behind all this, mentally I
tried to thread her in and around the suspects and scenarios I was
considering. Rob was rolling his head around and seemed to be enjoying my
massage, inexpert through it was. I leaned closer to him and reached down
between his legs to rub my palm against his crotch. He was warm and
definitely not underequipped. I squeezed his bulge gently and he yelped and
jumped up out of his chair.

“Mouse??” he said. “What the fuck?”

I realized what I had done and backed away from the table slowly. “Sorry!”
I half screamed, half gurgled. He looked at me with a mix of puzzlement,
his head cocked to the side, before I turned and fled for the hallway. My
face was probably as red as a freshly-waxed fire engine reflecting a
burning warehouse.

I ran right smack into Toby. Something crunched in his leather jacket and
he dropped his large denim bag as we fell. I grunted as my butt hit the
floor hard. Standing, he took a pair of broken glasses from an inner
pocket. I jumped up and watched him warily, smoothing my skirt, and wiping
my hands where I had touched his jacket.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry,” I apologized. He didn’t say anything, only looked
up and down the empty hallway. He put some books back into his bag.

“I was looking for you a little while ago,” I said.

“Where’s Janey?” he asked, his lips pursed. It seemed everyone wanted to
know where she was. He slid the broken glasses back into his jacket with a
shrug of his left shoulder and a jerk of his elbow and for just a second I
remembered how cool I used to think he was. Stop judging people by how much
money they have, I ordered myself silently. It didn’t help. Still, there
was nothing to stop me from imagining him as a rogue prince, outlawed from
his kingdom but heir to a fortune…

I blinked and tried to return to reality. He had asked me a question.

“She went home,” I finally stammered.

“She’s not there,” he said.

“What? How do you know?”

“Maybe I called and no one answered.” He leaned back against the row of
lockers and I heard a click as a door that had been hanging ajar closed. He
stared at me directly. I looked away, having never been able to hold a gaze
when someone does that.

He’s the one, I thought. I didn’t have any proof, but just the way he was
looking at me was sending shivers up and down my spine. That smug rebel
attitude. He was so masculine. It was almost like he expected me to fall to
my knees in front of him and unzip his pants, just because I was female. I
shuddered. Just thinking about it made my legs twitch with uncertainty.

But the spell was broken as he pushed past me rudely and walked down the
hallway. It was only then that I realized we were in front of Janey’s
locker. One of these lockers had clicked shut. Had Toby been searching
through Janey’s things?

The streets and people and even the way light bounces off of buildings all
look different when you get out of school early. I drove immediately to the
mall, which was nearly deserted. I had until four o’clock to get to City
Hall to pick up my transcript. Until then I had time to investigate
something that Toby had mentioned earlier: the index cards the notes were
printed on. Everyone gets their school stuff at either the stationery store
or Fleece’s; if I found neon pink index cards for sale I could type a fake
note, put it in Janey’s mailbox, and de-brainwash her!

But first, a bit of genius. Sunglasses. It was so obvious in hindsight. I
grabbed a pair of cheap “Surf’s Up, Dude!” yellow-mirrored glasses at the
novelty gifts store and glanced around the mall. All the colors were darker
and a bit yellowish. Perfect! I took the card I had stolen from Janey’s
room out of my purse and glanced at it.


I could still see the paper was pink, but through the glasses it was
darker, a more normal shade, maybe even a light burgundy. It didn’t effect
me at all! The glasses shielded my optic nerve or whatever, so I could read
the card like it was a normal piece of paper. The typeface was easily
legible. I licked my finger and touched my arm, making a psss! sound.
“Keiko, you are just too damn hot,” I said.

I bravely walked past the “Teen Princess” shirt in Fleece’s young ladies
department. No effect whatsoever. I arrived at the school supplies and
stationery aisle, and crouched down so I couldn’t see the items in the
other aisles. Then I raised the sunglasses.

Nothing. No sign of neon pink.

Back in the mall proper, I walked to the stationery store. It’s more
expensive than Fleece’s Department Store, but it also has a better
selection. I did the same experiment and immediately a small dot to my
right burst into brilliance. It was only a dot, but it filled my brain with
fog. I had to concentrate to lower the glasses back over my eyes. It was
difficult because I honestly didn’t want to, but the pink spot was small
and far away so I managed. Imagine you’ve fallen in love with the most
beautiful, wonderful, perfect person you know. Would you want to avoid
being with them?

Protected by the glasses, I walked to the cards. There were three packs
hanging on the shelf.

New “Glow In The Dark”* Neon-Brite Pink 3×5 Index Notes
Patented neon-lamination process! Standard, Non-ruled
4 cards per package. (*Cards may not glow in the dark)

They were on sale for $1.39 each. I grabbed all three packs and hurried to
the sales counter. The middle-aged clerk looked like either her romance
novel or the store’s muzak was about to put her to sleep.

“Excuse me,” I said. “I’d like to buy these, and I was wondering if you’ve
sold any other packs of the same kind recently?”

She shrugged indifferently.

“Well…” I stammered. “Could you check in your computer system or
something? It’s for a school project. I’m learning about economics.”

“Well then shouldn’t you be at school?” she asked, her voice gravelly. She
cleared her throat, and I wondered if she had talked to anyone all day.

“Not when I’m working on a project,” I smiled. Actually, the sunglasses
probably made me look younger than I was. I know most seniors would look
older wearing them, but I’m just too short and my face is too round, like
an onion.

She sighed and scanned in the three packages of Neon-Brite index cards,
then typed a few keys on the keyboard. “At the beginning of the month we
had four in stock, but somebody bought one last week and then we only had
three. Then you bought three and now we have zero. Is that enough
information to go home and write your paper on the U.S. economy?”

“Yes!” I said.

The only real typewriter that I’ve ever seen is the one in the corner of
the school library. Before we got the computer room, Washington High used
to teach typing, but now that’s combined with home economics and thankfully
it’s an elective, so “hunt-and-peck” typists like myself never have to
learn where our fingers are supposed to go.

Sneaking back into school was easy. I waited until the seventh period bell
rang and when the hallways were at their fullest I simply joined the crowd.
If anyone noticed me I just planned to say I forgot my purse or something
equally stupid. Of course I had to take off the sunglasses.

The library was mostly empty. Some students were still coming out from the
adjoining study hall and in a moment of weakness I brushed my breasts
against Danny Sampson’s chest while turning sideways to squeeze through the
door. It felt great to inhale as my blouse bumped his T-shirt, pushing
myself against and across him with a short exclamation of friction, even if
a wiser part of me knew that it wasn’t really me behaving this way. His
chest was warm. He smiled at me and of course I grinned back at him even
though I felt like grimacing and even kicking myself. But I didn’t want him
to get the wrong message. It’s not his fault I’m like this, I thought. No
one was using the tables. The typewriter in the corner was sitting, alone,
with its beige dust cover protecting it like always.

I sat down and pulled the dust cover aside, then put my sunglasses back on.
It was time to put an end to the mystery pervert’s plans. There were no
more magic arrows left and the effects of Cupid’s poison were diminishing.
If I could erase the programming currently altering our minds, he (or she)
would have no way to re-enslave Janey and me.

“Here goes nothing,” I said.

I opened one of the Neon-Brite packages. The cards were stiff, but their
paper was the same weight as the cards that had appeared in Janey’s
mailbox. As the wrapper indicated, there were four thick cards per pack.
Janey had received three cards so far. There are probably a million places
to buy index cards in the city, but I had a hunch that “Johnson” only had
one more card left. I held one of the new ones next to Wednesday’s “you’ll
tell no one about my notes your body your whole purpose is to pleasure men”
card that I had taken from Janey’s room. They were identical.

I have seen typewriters being used on TV (in Murder, She Wrote, especially)
so I was able to figure it out. It was pretty old so it wasn’t an electric
model. I slid the new card into the machine and rolled it into place. The
card bent but didn’t fold, though if the paper had been a bit stiffer it
might have. But it was difficult to position properly. I had to take it out
and put it back in the typewriter two more times before I had it lined up
so that whatever I typed would be centered as close as possible to the
middle of the card. Finally I was satisfied and I typed two simple lines:


I rolled my note up out of the drum and straightened it in my hands. As I
did so, I suddenly located the nagging thought about the cards I hadn’t
been able to remember earlier. How could I have forgotten? Some sort of
flakey non-shiny glitter-type substance had been glued to the back of the
first card at the hospital. But the subsequent cards were smooth and
normal. Why? It had to be important. Now that I had the sunglasses I could
investigate the cards more closely.

But first, I had a weak moment.

I took off the glasses and raised the cards before me. They glowed warmly
in their importance, sending pulses of color into my brain like fuzzy waves
of beauty. I turned the “pleasure men” card around so that only my most
recent message was… transmitting, so to speak. One card for each eye, the
left written with my own instructions. I knew my pupils were dialating. My
nipples hardened and my heart accelerated. I tried to read my message, but
I didn’t want to… I just wanted to absorb the pink color.

It was difficult for me to believe that I had been working with such
beautiful things and I had been treating them like simple pieces of paper!
The effects of the poison were definitely fading – my palm no longer
tingled at all – but I still felt like simply moving my hands could direct
the neon pink bath as it washed over me, that I could focus it like a
spotlight on my neck, my boobs, and if I wanted to, my hips and the warm
spot between my legs that my clenched thighs grew weary of protecting…

I was sweating and damp when I put the sunglasses back on. But I didn’t
feel like I was back to normal, and that scared me very, very much. I still
wanted to “please” men. I still felt like I had to obey. If the poison’s
effects were fading, was there any hope of ever counteracting the previous

Before sneaking back out of school, I went to the journalism room and used
the newspaper staff’s photocopier. I blew up the type on both the card from
Johnson and the one I had just made, to 400% of their normal size (the
highest the photocopier would allow). The typeface and small pits in the
right leg of the A’s were exactly the same. There was no doubt. As I had
suspected, the notes were being typed on Washington High’s library
typewriter. It had to be a student or someone with access to the school.

I approached Janey’s mailbox with a mixture of hesitation and anticipation.
There was either one of the pink cards already inside or there wasn’t – and
if there was I had to trade it for my fake one.

The problem was that I wanted to read the next note.

Or maybe “want” isn’t quite right, but I felt a certainty in my mind that
sooner or later I was going to read it. It was almost a given, like
something in the back of your mind that you just can’t shake; for example,
a plan to go swimming you made during breakfast that you stubbornly stick
to all day even when the weather turns chilly and overcast. I’ve got to be
strong, I told myself. At last I put on the sunglasses, pushing them close
to my head, and forced myself to squint through them. Even with the
protection of the glasses, I didn’t want to risk falling under the spell of
a new note.

I felt around inside the mailbox and immediately found another card,
leaning against a newspaper. I whipped it out of the mailbox and into my
purse, replacing it with the index card I had typed in the school library.

“Well, that wasn’t so bad,” I told myself.

I drove to City Hall. After studying the building guide in the main
corridor, I located City Documents and Records. It was on the third floor.
I don’t know what I had expected, but the room I arrived at reminded me of
the waiting room in the Department of Motor Vehicles when I had gotten my
license almost two years ago. It was large, crowded with all sorts of
people looking like they’d rather be someplace else, and a machine near the
door mechanically gave out numbered slips of paper so we could sit on the
hard blue chairs and not have to stand in line. My number was 937 and the
LED readout above the clerks’ counter read 914.

“Mom’s back is still bothering her,” a woman told another woman who looked
like her sister. Two kids sat between them, kicking the chairs in front of
them and playing with a fast food burger box.

“You don’t say. That’s awful.”

The room was noticably warmer than the hallway just outside. I took off my
sunglasses and squeezed into the row behind the women and the two kids. At
the counter, four clerks occupied the six available windows, however all
but one of them were doing paperwork of some kind, with “Please go to the
next available window, thank you” signs in front of them. A large gruff man
pounded the counter. “I need the carbons for the insurance company!” The
clerk gazed past him at the clock on the opposite wall. It was 2:45.

I tried to shut it all out. I sat down between a businessman reading a
magazine and an old man snoring. The businessman was handsome, probably
rich, and part of me longed to lean my head against his shoulder and do
wonderful, thrilling things to him… for him. Of course I resisted. I put
the slip of paper on my knee and resigned myself to wait.

What was Toby looking for in Janey’s locker? He was rapidly becoming my
number one suspect, but I couldn’t forget Cindy taking offense to me asking
questions about the accident.

The thing I couldn’t get out of my head was the fact that I had rubbed
Rob’s penis through his bluejeans! How could I have allowed myself to let a
simple massage get out of control? The worst part was the look on his face,
the look of shock and surprise. Talk about pathetically poor timing! Way to
go Keiko, touching a guy’s dick right after he broke up with his
girlfriend. I could have crawled into a hole and died.

I didn’t know what I was thinking anymore. In a few minutes the last bell
would ring at Washington High and Janey would be free to leave the bathroom
stall I had trapped her in all day. I had a feeling I couldn’t hold her
away from the wealth of guys the school had to offer, but I also hoped she
would be drawn home to her mailbox to read the latest note. The poison was
still strong inside her, so my trick might work.

Was she the lucky one, or was I? She couldn’t fight back and probably
didn’t want to. I just had a taste of what she was going through, and I
didn’t like it. But for her, she didn’t even have to worry about not liking
it. It’s like how I hate the taste of capuccino-flavored ice cream more
than any other kind, but the texture as I swallow it is so luxurious that I
sometimes order it from Big Bob’s Ice Cream at the mall, just for how it
feels when I swallow a large piece.

I felt like I had done a million things today, and my back kind of hurt. I
unbuttoned the first two buttons on my blouse. I really like the off-center
collar style, even though it’s not really meant to be worn unbuttoned like
a normal blouse. But it was hot in the room, and maybe if I gave the
businessman something to look at I wouldn’t suddenly… massage him, or
worse. Just a hint of cleavage and a small peek at my bra.

Five minutes later, the number above the counter changed, 915 was called,
and it was someone else’s turn at the counter. I was going to have a long
wait. Too bad I hadn’t brought my Agatha Christie novel or a magazine like
the man next to me.

I needed something to read. I opened my purse and pulled out the recent
note from Janey’s mailbox. Wait, what am I doing? I thought. But it was too
late and to tell the truth I’m not sure I wanted to stop myself. The note
glowed beautifully and tinted my thoughts fuzzy and indistinct. It was like
a drug. I sighed in mild frustration. Was I this stupid? This weak? The
answer seemed to be yes. As I sat on the uncomfortable blue chairs, I
resigned myself to the card’s arousing brightness. My eyes lost focus and I
gently squeezed my breasts with my free hand, pulling my blouse down

What new command was going to slip into my brain?

Gradually I became aware that the focus of every man in the room should be
on me. Yes, I knew it was bullshit, but I had never really realized that
there is a spotlight on all of us – especially females – all of our lives.
Our bodies, the way we dress, etc. Shakespeare was right, and as an actress
and a woman I could appreciate it. My audience surrounded me every day.

My concious mind felt like it was swimming in cotton candy, but I was able
to read the newest note.


A twinge of anger allowed me to cram the note back into my purse, which I
dropped to the floor.

I looked down at my boobs. Only the bottom three buttons of my blouse were
buttoned, my bra was easily visible covering the small curve of my breasts.
I wanted to offer them to the man in the suit next to me, wrap my legs
widely around the back of his chair and sink onto him slowly and

Just thinking about it made my nipples harder and harder. I slowly pulled
my blouse a bit lower and saw their lumps through the shiny slope of my
bra. As I watched they grew bigger and even more swollen. Their tightness
both hurt and excited me. I looked at the man next to me and he still
hadn’t noticed. No one had.

A bead of sweat rolled down between my cleavage. I stretched and thrust my
chest out between my arms, groaning softly in spite of myself. Crossing my
arms I was able to surreptitiously slide a finger between my bra and boobs
to touch my left nipple. It was as hard as a pencil eraser, and big!
Touching it was like touching a warm finger! What’s happening to me? I
thought. They’ve never been this big before. I continued to feel myself,
amazed and frightened and excited, and just plain in shock at how senstive
my chest was. My breasts were a bit slick because I was sweating. With a
shock I saw that the colored area around my nipple, the aureole, was
expanding on both boobs! They’re growing, I thought. What the fuck?

I pulled my hands away from myself and watched slowly. The aureole was
really getting wider! As I watched in horrified fascination, it crept out
from my bra. It must have been two or three inches wide, covering most of
my breast. And my nipples were like oblong chestnuts! Is this what the note
meant about being an “advertisement for sex?” Super nipples? I know guys
like big boobs but big nipples?

I felt like crying. How could this happen? How could that gunk from the
arrow be effecting my body, too?

“They called your number,” the businessman said. With a start I looked up
at him and saw his eyes focused on my chest. I turned toward him and he
continued to stare at my exposed cleavage. I didn’t know whether to button
up my shirt or pull my bra up over my breasts and let him see everything. I
glanced quickly at the man’s crotch and was unable to tell if he had an
erection or not.

“Are you okay?” he asked my breasts.

Part of me wanted to ask him if he liked my chest. Instead, rational
thought won the day. I buttoned my shirt and stood. Then I gave a half
scream and covered my chest with my right arm. With my blouse buttoned my
nipples were obviously erect and huge, as if I had stuffed a huge
half-melted marble into each cup of my bra! A dozen people turned to look
at me as, still covering my bursting nipples, I retrieved my purse and
walked to the counter.

“How may I help you?” the clerk asked. He barely even glanced at me.

“Keiko Tanaka,” I said with a stutter. “I have an appointment to pick up my
transcript for Washington High. I’m a graduating senior.”

I showed him my driver’s license and social security card, and then he
disappeared for a few minutes before finally returning with an
official-looking paper. I scanned it. My name was at the top and in tiny
type was listed every class I had ever taken and the grades I had received.
Straight A’s in English, of course.

“There you are. Copies have been sent to, let’s see… Pomona, Oberlin, and
Wesleyan. Have a nice day.”

“I definitely will,” I said, intending to do nothing less. I almost ran for
the door, but turned around quickly when I remembered something I had to
ask. “Is this building open on Sundays?”

“No,” he answered, with a shake of his head, as if it was the stupidest
question he had heard all day.

As I left Documents and Records, I heard someone behind me say, “Did you
see that Asian girl? Totally nipped out.”

What was happening to me? Ignoring the elevators, I entered the stairwell
and unbuttoned my blouse as fast as my fingers could fly, opened it, and
pulled up my bra. It was as if the tips of my boobs had exploded! The
nipples were huge and round and each aureole looked bumpy and angry. They
looked… motherly. I cupped my new chest in my hands and experimentally
squeezed myself. They were much more sensitive, and touching them sent a
pleasant thrill through me. I leaned against the stairway’s metal bannister
and gently groped myself with my eyes closed. The longer I touched myself,
the better it felt. And believe it or not, my nipples hardened even more.
They were fleshy thumbs stuck to my chest.

Just a few minutes, then I’ll stop, I told myself.

My underwear was getting wet and my whole body felt like it was one giant
female muscle of potential. I put a hand under my skirt while the other
continued to play with my nipples. In the back of my mind I was already
wondering how I would hide this new growth from the world, if I even could.
I had so many clues but I still didn’t know who Johnson was. Without
another source of Cupid’s poison I didn’t know if I could counteract the
programming inside Janey and me. If I could put all the clues together and
confront Johnson, would I even have any fight left in me?

I came on my hand, breathing huskily. The stairwell smelled of warm apples
being washed in a duffel bag. I composed myself as best I could.

Before I left the building, I saw the old man who had been babysitting us
in the gym when the accident happened. He entered one of the elevators in
the lobby, stared at me for a few seconds, then the doors closed and he
rose into the recesses of the building.

Part 3: A Struggle and a Solution

While waiting for Janey to call, I played with my new nipples. I couldn’t
keep my fingers off of them. In the mirror, they looked kind of like angry
strawberries, but they were warm and electric and stretched like firm
elastic when I gently pulled on them. They felt incredible! They, and my
new aureolae, were so female that my former chest seemed masculine in
comparison, though I would have given anything to get it back. The wider
aureolae filled my chest! They made me think of those moths that develop
big fake eye patterns on their wings to protect themselves from predators.

Rolling and squeezing my nipples was addictive; I had to force myself to
stop. I tried wearing a shirt, but that just made it worse. Bare-chested,
my huge new nipples throbbed in a weird way, just enough to keep me from
forgetting about them. Even when they hurt they still felt good, and part
of me longed to take a long bath and slip my fingers between my legs…

There was no way I could go to school with perpetually erect nipples! My
reputation would be ruined faster than I could be called to the principal’s
office – which would be pretty fast the way these stupid things stuck out.

Janey had to have found my replacement note by now. I had given her strict
orders to go home immediately after school. She seemed compelled to read
the notes. But did my note have a chance of turning her back to normal? It
hadn’t done a thing to me. But then again I knew it was fake; Janey didn’t.

I still knew deep down inside of me that I should be out there finding men
and pleasuring them. What would men think of my new nipples? The thought
made them ache for attention. I pictured myself in the principal’s office,
leaning against Mr. Klein’s desk and thrusting my chest forward. “But sir,
I’d just do anything to keep from being expelled.” It might have been funny
if it didn’t seem like such a good idea.

Earlier today, doing all the tiny helpful things for the guys in my classes
and the male teachers had kept my mind at ease. But alone in my room there
was nothing to relieve the tension. It didn’t seem fair that Janey was
neighbors with a peeping tom and I wasn’t!

The phone rang just before six o’clock and as usual I answered it before
anyone else. My mom and stepfather usually let me get it because they both
know that 95% of the time it’s for me anyway.

“Mouse, I was going to come over but I wasn’t sure…” It was Rob. “I mean
I think this is kind of an awkward situation, I’ve always thought of you as
a friend and- No wait, that’s not what I wanted to say. What I mean is, do

“Rob, what are you talking about?” I said. It was good to hear the sound of
his voice. “I’m trying to keep the line free, but maybe you could come
over?” I caressed a nipple with just the flat palm of my hand. Well, I
thought, it’s too late. I just invited him so if he comes over there’s
nothing I can do about it.

“Sorry. No, I guess we can talk at school tomorrow.” He hung up. I felt
both relieved and disappointed.

I started planning what I was going to wear tomorrow. I suppose it was just
as well that I hadn’t gotten my dresses cleaned yet. If tomorrow was as
warm as today was, I was going to look like an idiot wearing a sweater. Or
two. But how else could I hide my nipples? I shuddered at the thought of
wearing something plain and baggy. I disliked sweaters even before part of
me started thinking like a teen princess (which I guess is another way of
saying “snooty fashion snob”).

My mother and stepfather were laughing at something on TV. His big booming
laugh was really attractive. I imagined I could feel it resonate in my
lungs, vibrating my boobs. Even if he was my stepfather, he was a man.
There’s no way I could let my mother know the new feelings I had for her
husband. If she found out, I’d kill myself. Brainwashed or not, I couldn’t
handle it. But you know you’re in trouble when you spend fifteen minutes
seriously considering ways to secretly sneak into your parent’s bedroom
while they’re asleep and give your stepfather a nice slow handjob. (If I
did it in the dark he might think it was my mom.)

Finally it was past nine o’clock and I couldn’t wait any longer. I picked
up the phone and dialed quickly. Janey’s mom answered.

“Sorry Keiko, Janey can’t come to the phone right now. I’ll tell her to
call you back, okay?”

“Okay,” I mumbled.

Janey never did call me back. I would have called her again, but somehow I
knew my decoy note had failed. And what do you say to someone you trapped
in a bathroom stall all day? Instead I took a hot bath and drowned my
nipples in bubbles and fantasies. I always thought women who cried out like
Meg Ryan during sex couldn’t possibly be sincere, but for the first time in
my life I found myself moaning and panting and wishing harder than I had
ever wished for anything that a man was on the other end of my ecstasy.

Here’s how I was able to cover the hypersensitive strawberries on my chest:
I put on my silk chemise, then my tightest bra. Yes, I wore the bra over
the chemise, which I think is illegal. In each cup I folded a small
handkerchief. They kind of “rounded out” the mini-mountains of my nipples.
Kind of. The silk of the chemise felt nice and cool for about two and a
half seconds, then it got warm and started to itch. But it was the best I
could do. I wore a thick T-shirt over the bra and chemise, then a light
sweater, and finally a huge thick baggy one that my aunt bought me because
she lives in Phoenix and has no idea what styles I like. I had to
pseudo-hem up the sides like a pair of pants, because otherwise it hung
down to my thighs and looked like an Indian poncho. To top it all off, I
slouched slightly. The ensemble made me look thick, like a linebacker or
eskimo. Of course I wore a skirt (shorter than usual) so at least I could
show off my legs.

Friday morning was pure torture. But there was no way anyone without X-ray
vision could tell I had breasts, let alone monster nipples. I was briefly
reminded of wearing my first training bra, ages ago, sitting in the living
room and watching TV and nobody except me (and my mom) knowing I had it on
under my T-shirt.

I left the house early and walked to Janey’s street. Unless by some miracle
she was back to her old self, the least I could do was order her to stay
home all day. Flashing and posing for Mr. Beergut all day would be
preferable to anything she could do at school. I waited fifteen minutes by
the bus stop on the corner before she finally came out. “Janey!” I called.
“Wow!” She was wearing a new dress, short but still very stylish with
plenty of ruffles and purple glitter around the bust. I felt a prickle of
jealously as she skipped toward me, looking so beautiful. Still, she was
wearing a healthy amount of lipstick and way too much perfume, like

Well, no surprise. Somehow I had known the replacement note had failed.

“Keiko! Do you like it? I went to the mall yesterday.”

“It’s… fantastic!” Her cleavage bounced slightly as we began walking to
school. In the sunlight I could see a sheen on her chest that reminded me
of summer camp and insect repellant; I realized that she had sprayed all
the perfume onto her boobs.

“I had so much fun at the mall,” she said. “These college guys were telling
me what to do in the Food Court and touching me and I made them so happy!”

“That’s… great.” For them, I thought.

“Hey, did you hear Rob and Cindy broke up,” I said, trying to change the

“I know, isn’t it cool!” she exclaimed. “He finally realized he could do
better than her. If things with me were back the way they were before, I
would be so all over him.”

“Wait, Cindy dumped him,” I said.

“That’s not what I heard.”

Who dumped who? If Rob had broken up with Cindy, could it be a coincidence
that he did it just as Janey was becoming more and more… available, so to

“My parents want me to see a doctor,” she said.

I realized suddenly that I had been so worried about my situation at home
that I hadn’t thought of what Janey’s might be like. “Have you…” I wasn’t
sure how to ask her, or even what I wanted to ask her.

“Well, they don’t understand that I’m a slave for real. They thought it was
a joke and they thought I hit my head or something – actually I don’t know
what they thought. And I know they don’t want me pleasuring men and that’s
a huge problem because that’s all I want to do. Of course I can’t tell them
about the notes, or about what I’m becoming. I tried to fuck dad but he got
so pi-”

“Janey!” I almost screamed. “You can’t say things like that. Not even to

I realized that I had yelled a bit more harshly than I had intended. She
stopped walking and started to sniffle. “If I can’t talk to you… if I
can’t… well who can I talk to?”

Like I had seen someone do in a movie once, I caught a tear out of her eye
with my finger before it could drop down and ruin her mascara. She blinked
and I tried to think of an apology. The sun and my fifteen billion layers
of clothes were making me sweat. I felt like it was August and I should be
sitting somewhere with my legs propped up and my nipples under an air

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“You’re the only one who knows what I’m going through. Keiko, when I found
out you were involved in this poison from the arrow thing it was such a
major relief. We’ve always been together and now we’ll graduate and be a
million miles apart and you’ll find new friends who like writing books and
I’ll find new friends who like playing the piano or whatever it is I decide
to study.” She took a deep breath. “Everything’s crazy now and out of

“Don’t forget that there’s one other person who knows what you’re going
through,” I said. “You haven’t gotten any strange phone calls or visitors,
have you? Any email? Toby hasn’t called you, has he? I think he may have
called your house yesterday when you were at school.”

She was smiling at me. “No, no one. Except you.”

“He – or she – must be waiting for something. Either Johnson is spying on
you or he’s waiting until after more notes, maybe all of them, are
delivered. There’s got to be a reason why he hasn’t made contact yet.”

“You haven’t asked me if I got another note last night,” Janey said. She
winked. “I think you already know.”

“Did you?” I asked, keeping a completely straight face.

“Yes, but it was from someone else. The color was pretty, and of course I
stared at it and I was able to see that something was written on it. But it
didn’t do anything to me.”

Clearly not. Why hadn’t it done anything to her? Was the magic that strong?
If she was commanded to read only notes from one person would she simply be
uneffected by notes from anyone else, would she magically know notes from
other people were forgeries? If there was a way to inject her with more
love poison, could we overwrite the previous notes?

Suddenly she hugged me. I gasped at the sudden sensation of my nipples
being squashed. All I could do was squeeze the cool skin of her lower back
through her dress.

“I love you, Keiko. Not as a lover or anything like that, but as a friend.
You’re trying so hard to help and I don’t know if I want you to succeed
because my life makes sense now and I like doing what people tell me, even
if it means sitting on a toilet seat for seven hours. But when you didn’t
call me last night and when the card didn’t change me of course I knew you
must have put a decoy in my mailbox. I have to read the original card,
Keiko, and I will get it from you somehow.”

“I did call you,” I said. “Your mother said you’d call back.”

“Really? She didn’t tell me, probably because they were mad at me. I love
you so much!”

“I love you, too. As a friend.” She had to have felt my nipples burning
into her. My eyes closed involuntarily and if she hadn’t released me just
then I would have kissed her passionately.

“Take the bus downtown!” she said firmly, her mouth only inches from my
face. Before I could react she was running away, her hands over her ears,
chanting. “Take the bus, take the bus, take the bus!”

She must have seen it turning the corner when we were hugging. As it neared
it began to look more and more inviting. Resist it, I thought. Fight it! I
almost let it pass, but I was so hot and the thought of an air conditioned
ride was so tempting that as it neared the stop I frantically ran to catch

By the time I finally made it to Washington High, I had a renewed interest
in solving the mystery of the neon pink notes. Things weren’t as bad as
they could have been. If Janey had read the latest note she’d be the one
with super nipples. Actually, the poison from the arrow was much stronger
in her blood, so who knows what the card might have done to her? If nothing
else at least I had delayed her transformation into Johnson’s dream girl.
Forgoing my sunglasses, I removed the note from my purse and glanced at it.


For once, I felt somewhat clear-headed while looking directly at one of the
notes! No tunnel vision, no fog clouding my thoughts! The card seemed
extraordinarily bright and “sexy” (for lack of a better term) but otherwise
normal. My palm didn’t even begin to tingle. The effects of the poison were
almost gone. I wanted to jump for joy! Maybe this nightmare was coming to
an end. The only question was, how long would it take Janey to be free of
the effects? I thought back to something she had said. She had been able to
tell something was written on the card I left in her mailbox. When she saw
the previous ones she couldn’t see anything but their pink color. It gave
me hope.

I signed into school and received my first ever tardy demerit. I never got
into trouble, so the office ladies didn’t know me and even though I left
school early the day before, one thought I was a new foreign exchange
student. Yeah, right. I’m Keiko “Scarpetta” Tanaka and I’ve only been going
here for three point eight five five years.

Toby was right about Rob and Cindy’s alibi. City Hall is definitely closed
on Sundays. So if Rob picked Cindy up there, she couldn’t have been inside
getting her transcript. There was something fishy about that story. And why
was the old guy there yesterday? Could he have been following me?

There was only one person I could ask about him. I didn’t even bother
reporting to my second period study hall because the bell was about to ring
anyway. I went straight to the science lab. As soon as Mr. Lopez saw me he
crossed his arms, crumpling his newspaper to his chest.

“Come to ask me about the accident again?” he said, his eyebrows lowered.
He acted like I was responsible!

“No!” I said, almost defensively. “I just wanted to know who that older man
was that was watching us.”

He sighed. “Mouse, let’s be honest with each other. I know you’re friends
with Janey and Robert and the other students involved and I find it a
little hard to believe that you don’t know Mr. Kirkwood, too. If he wasn’t
so powerful I’d go to the superintendent of schools with what I know, and I
don’t think you’d want that, would you?”

“I don’t know him!” I stated defiantly. “Are you saying we staged the
accident on purpose?”

“Didn’t you?”


He looked at me for a long time. Somehow I knew he was judging me, and I
felt terrible that he could even suspect me of such a thing. After working
together on three plays how could I have allowed him to become so
disappointed in me? I felt terrible.

“Relax, Mouse,” he finally said. “I believe you.” I almost crumpled to the
floor in relief as the tension drained from my body.

“I think you should talk to your friends. I’m not going to say anything
about old Mr. Kirkwood around here unless someone gets me good and drunk.
But I’ll tell you this: He’s a big bastard working on the city planning
committee and has many friends on the school board and in the PTA. And I
know for a fact that he is the one responsible for that ‘accident’ with the
bow and arrow. For a fact. That’s all I’m saying, okay?”

I nodded. “Okay.”

Mr. Lopez began straightening and ironing his newspaper with his hands and
I noticed (not for the first time!) how sexy he was. It’s kind of a joke
that every freshman girl gets a crush on him when they first come up from
middle school. My gigantic nipples stiffened. I slouched forward slightly,
just in case they were visible, as if anyone could see them under all these
stifling layers. Just a few minutes making out with Mr. James Lopez would
be so nice, feeling his scratchy face against my neck. If I could somehow
get one of my nipples into his mouth… The things I could do for him… It
seemed like such a good idea, definitely possible. If he saw my nipples
he’d have to taste them. I shook my head. I had to go find a door to hold
open for some freshman boys before I made an ass of myself. The bell rang.

“Oh, there’s just one more thing,” I said. “Can you get Season of Cupid out
for me again? I’d like to take another look at it.”

He opened his desk and pulled out the bundle of paper with its purple
mimeographed text. “I never did put it back after you borrowed it last
time. Bring it back when you’re finished. No hurry.”

I grabbed it. “Oh, and you mentioned someone named Mr. Daniels before. He
knew all about the bow and arrow and this play. Is he still around?”

“No, he’s off sailing the Carribean or some such thing.”


“Yes, really. Now get going.”

“Yes sir!” I said, and before I even knew what I was doing I was out the

I scratched Mr. Lopez off my list of suspects. First his “buying champagne”
alibi had checked out and now his display of mistrust toward me just made
it seem really unlikely that he was behind the notes. I just couldn’t see
it. Of course if this was an Agatha Cristie novel he’d be guilty for sure.

And if the old guy, Mr. Kirkwood, was on the city planning committee then
that explained why he was at City Hall the day before. Though it didn’t
exactly explain why he stared at me. Of course he could have remembered me
from Sunday or just been captivated by my freakishly large nipples. Mr.
Lopez seemed to think him directly responsible for Janey being shot. I
wondered what Mr. Lopez knew. Even if Mr. Kirkwood was involved, that
didn’t mean he was behind the notes. But if he was involved in the PTA,
maybe he saw the 1965 performance of Season of Cupid and knew about the
poison and after seeing the accident on Sunday was taking the oppurtunity
to make Janey his personal love slave. No one else was old enough to have
been around back then.

I walked past Janey’s locker but there was no sign of her. Jane Ann was
replacing some photos on the inside of her own locker; she said she hadn’t
see Janey all day. This isn’t good, I thought. Where is she? I was hot and
felt almost dehydrated, so just before English class I stopped at the
drinking fountain and guzzled as much water as I could.

In class I gave in to temptation and let all the guys to my left see my
underwear. It was easy. I sat with my legs crossed, then innocently brushed
my skirt back as far as I could to rub my pantyline, and “forgot” to cover
myself afterward. Everyone from my left diagonally all the way back to the
windows could see the side of my panties and all of my hip. I didn’t have
to look to sense their attention, and it made me feel so good that I kept
finding my hand surrepticiously touching my thigh or fingering the dark
purple waistband of my panties.

I knew it was wrong, but it wasn’t like I was spreading my legs for a porn
magazine or anything. Besides, I reasoned, I had to do something to make a
day dressed so far down at least bearable. That meant showing guys as much
skin as possible as well as keeping the airflow to my legs constant enough
to offset the two-sweater heatbox encasing my chest.

My book was open to the poems Mrs. Richards was stressing, but in reality I
was scanning Season of Cupid. Looking again at the play, the introduction
of the cast of characters at the beginning reminded me of an Agatha
Christie novel. I briefly wondered if I should make a list of my suspects
in a similar style, to try and organize things in my mind.

I couldn’t find what I was looking for in the text; there didn’t seem to be
any concrete information about the duration of Cupid’s poison. There was
definitely no cure, in fact Cupid mentioned several times that a cure for
“love” was impossible. By the end of the play, the girls were still under
its effects.

Prince: Alas! The lady Justinia hath me bitrayed
As bokes tellen us whenne Cupid played.

Cupid: Well assure thy-self fro peyne and care
For love hadde hir ful bounden in a snare.
I wisten Justinia a bride ful hele and hewe,
But whenne festen gaze on fair lippe hue
Wommen un-to wommen goodly brest al softe
Gan hir to kisst, maken hir spye to ofte,
I, Eros, swere yow I the weddinge blesse,
Wommanliche wyf to bringe thou fro distresse.
Yon lovers hertes botme my shaft hast paste,
Ful many days to cure loves wo doth laste.
Al try they nought, they wost wel what I mene:
Ful many days til hir sighte be clene.

Woodsman: Loves sprite wost hem-self ever smerte.
And fare now wel, myn owene swete herte!

What did “ful many days” mean? As far as I could tell, it could be anything
upwards from a week or more. (Assuming of course that whoever wrote the
play knew the magic was real.) I probably should have skimmed the play to
figure out how many days it encompassed, but I found it too hard to
concentrate sitting in a room half full of boys.

I felt like such a slob in the sweaters. I might as well have been wearing
a potato sack with arm holes cut in the sides and “DESTITUTE” printed on
the front in big blocky letters. My nipples wanted to be seen. They craved
attention, or maybe I was just emoting my needs onto them. In any case they
were imprisoned helplessly in fabric, itchy, throbbing in time to my
heartbeat and the only way I could forget about them was to show more and
more of my ass to the boys next to me. I heard Darren turn and begin
whispering to someone else. I scooted forward in my chair, pushing my skirt
back even further. A tickling on my chest ran down to my stomach, and I
realized I had been sweating profusely for a long time.

A few minutes before the bell rings in any class, students always start to
fidget more, closing books and putting away pencils, etc. I heard these
sounds and realized the bell for fourth period would ring soon. The clock
said three more minutes. I closed my eyes. All I wanted to do was get into
a cool bathroom and pull up my T-shirt and sweaters and bra and let my
chest breath and do whatever I could to comfort my poor nipples.

At last the bell rang and I ran into the hallway. The girl’s room near the
office was the closest, but before I could get there Cindy appeared out of
nowhere and grabbed me!

“Hey, let go!” I yelled. I tried to push her away but she locked her arm
around me tightly and walked me straight out the main entrance! I didn’t
even have a chance to struggle. She turned and pinned me against one of the
the metal double doors, pushing me backwards to close it. We were out in
the fresh air and sunlight, alone, facing the faculty parking lot. Cindy
looked down at me, shaking her head. She didn’t look very happy.

“I always thought we were friends, Mouse, but you’ve got to stop poking
that twitchy little nose of yours where it doesn’t belong.”

“Leave me alone,” I said. I pushed against her again but it was useless.
She was bigger and more athletic; she had my arms pinned to my side.

“We’re all sorry that Janey got shot in the gym,” she said. “And we all
know that it was an accident and that the sooner we put it behind us, the
better, right?”

I didn’t say anything.

“Besides, don’t you think You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown is a nice
musical? I’m going to make a deal with you, Mouse. You stop bugging Mr.
Lopez, and stop snooping around City Hall, and stop asking questions about
me… and I won’t tell anyone about you and Janey being lesbians.”

I gasped. Then I understood. “That night… you saw us!”

“Of course I did, you were only like writhing against the window. There
were two cars stopped in the street.” She smiled and pushed herself closer
to me, pressing her boobs into my neck. Her T-shirt smelled clean, like
flowers and fabric softener. Whatever my nipples were doing, they actually
felt like they were getting heavier.

“Do we have a deal?” She leaned even closer to me, whispering into my ear.
“Say ‘yes’ and just this once I’ll let you kiss me, and touch me wherever
you want. No one has to know.”

“Cindy, I’m not a lesbian…”

“Of course you are. And this is your chance to touch my perfect body. Don’t
tell me you haven’t dreamed of this moment.” Why wouldn’t she stop rubbing
herself against me?

“I have dreamed of it,” I said. “Wait, I didn’t mean that…” Why couldn’t
I think properly? I felt like I had sun-stroke or something. I struggled
crazily for a few seconds with absolutely zero result. “Stop breathing in
my ear!” I yelled.

She pulled up my left hand and I watched as she squeezed it between my
collarbone and her jutting breasts. Unfortunately, on the way up my wrist
jarred my left nipple ferociously and suddenly I was someone else. I didn’t
care that anyone passing in front of the school could see us, or that I
wasn’t really attracted to Cindy. My posture slackened as a warmth settled
itself between my legs. I groaned and grabbed at her neck, trying to pull
her closer to me, wanting somehow to grind my chest into her toned
midsection. She stood on her tiptoes and all I accomplished was getting my
face between her breasts. They were cool against my flushed cheeks.

My other hand freed itself and I began working my T-shirt and chemise free
from my skirt. They were soaked with sweat. I felt like a caged animal, a
monkey caught in a net, desperate for freedom. Finally I got my hand under
the layers and peeled both sweaters and the T-shirt away from me, lifting
them. Cindy stepped backwards and watched as I groaned with relief. I
lodged the sweaters under my neck. The chemise was invisible, shrinkwrapped
to my torso. My aureole – just visible peeking out of the top and bottom of
my bra – were puffy, dark, and wet. I pulled my bra down and the distended
plugs on my chest popped free. The chemise made a slurping sound as I
peeled it upwards. Sweat was actually streaming into my navel. Immediately
I began shivering. In the daylight my nipples definitely looked obscene.

“Holy shit!” Cindy cried. “What happened to you? Turkey’s done, huh?”

I stared at her eyes as I groped at myself awkwardly. The metal door
against my back was hard. My chest was slick and damp. Cindy stepped closer
to me again. I licked the sweat from my upper lip and grabbed her hand,
placing it on my chest. “Please,” I said. God, I need her, I thought.
Suddenly I could see Cindy’s sex appeal clearly, as if it had been cranked
into sharp focus. She was gorgeous.

“Eeewwww!” she said. “Could you be any more sweaty? You’re lucky I’m used
to cheerleading practice. You’d better keep your promise to be quiet
because this is totally gross.” She twisted a nipple cautiously and I
shuddered. I pulled her tightly to me and began lightly tracing circles
around her double D cup breasts with my palms.

Her bra was filled tightly, and I was surprised at how firm her breasts
were. I gazed in wonder as they heaved in front of me. I could tell by
touch that only her bra was keeping them from wobbling all over the place.
I felt a delicious thrill at touching them, at doing something so
“forbidden.” After a few seconds, the indentations of her nipples became
apparent as they hardened behind her bra. Whatever I was doing was getting
to her. Her nipples were further to the side than I would have expected. I
arched my back as she squeezed my chest powerfully, almost but not quite
hard enough to be painful. My chin lost hold of my sweaters, but it didn’t

“Oh god, Cindy…” I murmurred. My underwear felt like it was pulsing. I
began rubbing my crotch against her leg.

“You really should shave this peach fuzz from your forehead,” she said,
“but then again I guess it could grow back scratchy and that would suck.”

My hands dropped from her breasts to her waist, then I circled them behind
her and pulled her toward me. Her butt was so soft and though I’d never
fantasized much about even guy’s butts, my hands couldn’t get enough of
hers. She did something else to my nipples, in sequence, and my leg cramped
from the spasm invoked in me. It hurt, but I ignored it. The pain was
slowly forgotten as I clutched at her rear.

“Cindy…” I said, “I hate you so much.” It was so hard to think of what I
should be saying, and then keep a steady voice while saying it. She was
pressing her boobs into my face again. My heart was pounding.

Oh shit, I’m going to come, I thought. Right here in front of the school.
Looking up at Cindy, her eyes closed, I realized that I had to kiss her
before this was over and my attraction for her vanished. I needed to kiss
her. This was one of the sexiest, most popular girls in school. She looks
so… delectable, I thought. If I don’t take this chance I may never have
it again.

Just as I was coming, I smashed my mouth to hers awkwardly and sloppily
kissed her, driving my tongue into her mouth. Warmth trickled down my leg
and I collapsed, pulling Cindy down with me. I craned my neck to keep our
mouths connected. Her teeth were smooth and cool, and finally I found her
tongue and to my surprise she began actively French-kissing me. As my mind
began to clear, her hands on my chest were suddenly painful and clumsy.
Then I climaxed again; I had absolutely no control of my body.

I’m actually kissing Cindy, I thought. I shouldn’t be doing this. I tried
to sink back into mindless passion but it was hopeless. I sucked at her
mouth in a last frantic effort to taste as much of her as possible…
kneaded her cheerleader-perfect ass in an attempt to instill the memory of
its springy texture into my fingers… Then it was over. I pushed her away
in disgust and a sparkling string of saliva stretched between us. I could
hear birds chirping and cars driving on the road just past the main campus.

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Do I smell what I think I

I realized I was about five seconds away from balling my eyes out. She was
crouching before me, smirking. “I always keep my promises,” she said. She
pulled my T-shirt down over my nipples, which felt like they had been
sandblasted raw, and took my hand. Hers was slippery with my sweat. “Still

I didn’t know what else to do, so I nodded. She shook my hand, then stood,
opening the door beside me.

“It’s funny, I thought getting felt up by a girl would be different, but my
tits felt just the same as they always do. Remember, no more snooping!”

The door closed behind her.

Some freshman girl came into the bathroom while I was leaning low over the
sink, dousing a nipple in cool water from the faucet.

“Shouldn’t you be in class?” I yelled. My nipples were so big they bounced.
She ran away in fear. I continued to gently splash water on my chest.

The human body is such an amazing thing. It’s capable of such incredible
sensation and experience. I felt ashamed at losing control with Cindy. But
I knew I would never forget those few minutes of pure ecstasy, no matter
how much I wanted to. It was foolish to think myself a lesbian when I knew
only a thin strand of self control was holding me back from pleasuring the
billions of men on Earth. If there were no more consequences, no more
tomorrows… the things I could do!

I may have been in a daze, but I knew one thing for sure: There was no way
I was going to stop my investigation. Janey and I had our futures at stake
and they were way more important than some promise to a cheerleader. And
why would Cindy want me to stop asking people questions? I could still
taste her in my mouth, in fact my breath now smelled like hers. Was she
some kind of pervert, or simply oversexed? Was it possible to have a body
like hers and not be oversexed? Basically, did she have anything to gain
from turning Janey into a sex slave? Cindy wasn’t stupid, but she wasn’t
exactly a genius either and the thought of her actually using a typewriter
was laughable.

One thing worried me today more than anything else. I had huge nipples like
stubby thumbs. If the person responsible for sending the notes saw them, he
or she would surely realize that I was caught in his trap as well! And what
would he think when he saw his latest note had had zero effect on Janey?

Cindy now knew about my chest. Her reaction didn’t directly implicate her
in any way I could imagine. Still, she had to be involved somehow if she
wanted me to stop asking people questions, didn’t she? Maybe she was
protecting someone?


Actually, that didn’t seem to make sense, considering their recent break
up. But since at that moment I was supposed to be in advanced math class
anyway, I decided to talk to him. I fixed myself up, squashing my sticky
nipples again, left the bathroom, and walked toward the math room.

The second floor hallway was silent except for the distant drone of the
school band practicing in the music room. The vision of the lockers
stretched out before me suddenly gave me an impulse: I should search each
of my suspects’ lockers. I guess I got the idea from catching Toby doing
just that the day before. It’ll only take a few minutes, I thought. If
anyone comes down the hall they won’t know I’m not at my own locker…

I opened Cindy’s locker first, because it was closest and because part of
my brain was still thinking about her. Most of her textbooks were inside,
as well as a stack of fashion magazines and a few tubes of lipstick. The
door was plastered with middleschool pictures and cutouts and bits of
pom-pom string were caught in the grill. I rifled through the stack of
magazines but didn’t find anything interesting. There was a note from the
team’s “showpiece girl,” Tricia: “The new cheer is fantastic but if you
kick so hi early the havetime show won’t be as cool.” Cheerleaders, I

I trusted Janey (or at least I used to) but I searched her locker anyway.
The only way to know for sure that Johnson wasn’t in contact with her would
be to handcuff myself to her. If he slept with her or contacted her in any
way and then ordered her not to tell anyone, she’d lie to me happily. Her
locker looked the same as it always had. The picture of us eating chocolate
parfaits was inside the door where it always was. No pink index cards or
flowers from secret admirers. Rob’s locker was also normal, as far as I
could tell. Guys’ lockers are sure messy.

Toby’s locker wasn’t as cluttered, though the inside was covered
wall-to-wall with stickers of bands. It felt odd to be so close to his
locker, knowing I should be feeling the effects of my crush on him, but
instead feeling only a slight disgust. Even his locker seemed “dirty” in
comparison to its neighbors. Immediately something jumped out at me. In the
middle of his textbooks was a thin hardcover book, Herbal Magick For
Personal Gain.

“Oh my god!” I said. Well, this is what we call a clue, I thought. I wanted
to flip through it right then and there, but there wasn’t time so I hurried
to my locker and stashed it inside for later.

A few whispered words about “female problems” to Mr. McHennen and I was
allowed to join advanced math class without too much of a fuss. It probably
helped that I looked like complete shit in a baggy sweater and that my eyes
were a bit glazed over. If I had been wearing jeans he would have assumed I
had my period intuitively.

Rob was staring at me, which was both a turn on and a frustration. But he
couldn’t talk to me until the last few minutes of class; when everyone is
finishing up the work exercises Mr. McHennen lets us get away with stuff.
Until then I pretended to absorb myself in the problems, but inside my head
I was going crazy. I so wanted to tear off the sweaters and expose myself
to everyone. Ironically, my session with Cindy might have somewhat quenched
the fire my new nipples were capable of, but they still tried their
damndest to be noticed.

When it became safe to talk, Rob coughed to get my attention. “You look
terrible,” he whispered.

“I know. And thanks for noticing.”

“Look, Mouse, about yesterday. I’m really flattered that you like me, but I
think we work best as friends, you know? I mean, yeah, you’re pretty hot
and you are Asian which is really cool but… I just can’t see it.”

“What are you talking about?” I said.

“You know! You touched my…” He gestured at his crotch.

Shit, I thought. I forgot all about that. If only I had been able to
control myself! The worst part was how disappointed I felt knowing he
hadn’t enjoyed it. I briefly considered ways I could trick him into
agreeing to let me have a second chance with my hands, but that only
started me daydreaming. I forced myself to pretend to be angry.

“That’s all you ever think about, isn’t it?” I hissed. “Admit it, you’re
thinking about me giving you a blowjob right now! Aren’t you?”

His eyes widened, then he blinked. “Well fuck, I am now.”

A minute of awkward silence passed.

“Where’s Janey?” he said.

“I don’t know. I haven’t seen her all day. Did you see her in English?”

He shook his head. “But I talked to her this morning and…”

“And?” I said. “What?”

“She doesn’t seem like herself. The way she’s been acting… I’ve heard
some rumors that seem pretty hard to believe. Do you know anything about
what’s going on with her?”

“No,” I lied.

He looked at me. “Somehow I don’t believe you. Anyway, I have something I
need to tell her about what happened in the gym. I would have told her this
morning if she could have dislodged herself from that guy who takes
pictures for the school newspaper. I need to tell her as soon as possible.
It’s important.”

“Did you break up with Cindy? Who broke up with who?”

“What? You can’t believe her or her friends,” he said. “I broke up with

The bell rang and everyone started leaving the room. On his way past, Brett
Walters put his arm around Rob’s shoulders. “Missing those big tits yet, my
man?” he said, laughing. I realized papers were still all over my desk, and
started cramming them into my math notebook.

“Oh yeah, I almost forgot,” Rob said. “Mouse, give me your purse.”

“What?” I said. “Why do you-” I fidgeted with its straps, knowing I
shouldn’t give it to him but unable to remember exactly why I didn’t want

“Give it to me,” he repeated. I immediately handed it over, and watched as
he opened it and started going through the contents. I hope he finds what
he wants, I thought. Wait a minute, my money is in there! And he’s going to
see my tampons. Then for a few seconds I started wondering whether or not
guys are aroused by the sight of hygiene products. After a moment Rob
pulled out the latest neon pink index card and quickly slipped it into his
pocket. Then he returned my purse.

“Don’t worry,” he said, and walked out.

I stood slightly out of sight behind the Pepsi machine and watched the
cafeteria and the lunch line. I wasn’t sure if I was going to be doing any
homework over the weekend or not, but I had my English and physics books
just in case, Herbal Magick For Personal Gain, and of course Season of
Cupid. Finally Janey appeared in the hallway entrance and I ran to meet
her. She seemed dazzled by the commotion of the cafeteria. Probably
wondering who to pleasure first, I thought. I grabbed her arm.

“We’re leaving school now!” I said. “Follow me!”

“Oh, hi,” she said. “No offense, but I don’t really want to be seen with
you if you’re dressing like someone from a foodstamp line.”

I dragged her out of the cafeteria. “I don’t want to be seen with me
either. Follow me closely and don’t try to get away or trick me.”

“Okay, okay, you know I’ll do whatever you say. Did Toby come through here?
He was watching and spying on me this morning. I might not have noticed
before but now it’s like I have this power to sense the guys around me.”

“Faster, we have to hurry. I know what you mean. I haven’t seen him.
Besides, he’s suspect number one. I think. Where were you all morning?”

“I just had a three hour meeting with the guidance counselor, Mr. Hamilton.
I guess my parents called the school or something. And apparently, some of
my teachers have forgotten that I’m a woman. They’ve ‘expressed concern’
about my displays of ‘sexual openness’ on school grounds.” She smiled at

“What did you talk about?” I asked.

“Really boring stuff. Of course I tried to flirt with him first, but that
didn’t work. Then he told me to tell him everything, so I did. I didn’t
mention the notes, of course, but I told him everything else and about how
I had turned into a slave and would do anything for men. Then he tested me.
When he found out I wasn’t faking, he locked the door and made me pull down
my underwear and lift up my dress.”

“Mr. Hamilton did this?” I exclaimed. “But he’s such an old…

“I guess he really likes oral sex,” Janey said. “He did this butterfly
thing with his fingers and mouth and I totally went sky high. It was
amazing. You have to try it, Keiko. I know you’d squeal like a saxophone.”

“I have an idea, let’s not talk about sex for two seconds, okay?”

“Okay. What about Rob? Have you seen him?”

I only shook my head. I was trying to concentrate on getting her out of
school. The student parking lot is sometimes watched during lunch, but the
front entrance was completely empty earlier when Cindy and I had had our
encounter. That seemed like the best bet. Who would try to sneak out of
school past the main office?


Janey and I both halted on a dime. We turned and saw Toby standing in the
hallway, his arms crossed. He wasn’t wearing his leather jacket. He glanced
at the books in my arms and though I quickly turned them sideways I knew
immediately that he had seen the herbal magick hardcover.

“Where are you going?”

“Leave us alone!” I said.

“Janey, come here,” he commanded. I grabbed her hand and jerked her

“No, Janey, don’t move! Stay here!”

She planted her feet at my side. Toby shook his head.

“All I wanted to do was have a nice conversation. Janey, you know you have
to do as I say. Mouse isn’t being nice now, so call her a bitch and push
her as hard as you can.”

Janey looked at me with a wicked expression, and I was too shocked to do
anything. “Keiko, you little bitch!” she screamed, and shoved me, hard. I
was still trying to hold my books sideways, out of sight, so I landed on my
butt and all the air rushed out of my lungs. Instantly tears began forming
in my eyes.

The office door opened. “What’s going on?” asked one of the assistant
principals. He looked from me to Janey and finally settled on Toby.

“He pushed me!” I wheezed. My tears no doubt made me that much more
believable, despite the fact that I was a good fifteen feet away from him.
The assistant principal began walking toward Toby, who was shaking his head
and stepping backwards slowly. We have to get out of here, I thought. Toby
is the one! I whispered quietly to Janey, “Put your hands over your ears
and hum the Sailor Moon theme song.” She clasped her hands to her head and
began humming loudly.

“Don’t you back away from me,” the assistant principal was saying. “Why
don’t you come inside and we’ll have a nice… chat.” He motioned Toby
toward the office. Some of Toby’s friends peeked around the corner but
quickly ducked away when they saw the assistant principal. Come on, I
thought. Hurry! Just a few seconds is all we need. Toby reluctantly walked
to the office doorway.

“She’s lying!” he said. “Janey! Janey, put your hands down and listen to
me! Please!” But there was no way she could hear him.

Score one for the good guys.

When we got to the sidewalk I pulled Janey’s hands away from her head.
“Okay, you can stop humming now. Stop humming!”

“I’m sorry I pushed you,” she said. “You know I had to. Don’t cry, Keiko, I
had to do what he told me.”

“I know, and I’m not crying.” I wasn’t really. The white streets in front
of the school grounds were blindingly bright in the sunlight. Fuck these
sweaters, I thought. As we walked, I pulled them over my head and threw
them under a nearby scraggly tree. I felt a lot cooler in my sweaty
T-shirt, even if it meant anyone could tell I was The Amazing Nipple Girl.
Of course I suddenly smelled ten times worse, being so sweaty.

“Where are we going?”

“We are going to go to your house and see if there’s another note in your
mailbox, and then we’re going to drive to my house where you’ll be safe.
After that, as far as I can see, we’ve got only two options open to us.”

At that moment, she must have just noticed my chest. “Oh my god! Your
nipples! What happened?”

“Don’t ask. Wait, I meant that figurati- oh, never mind.”

“But what if there isn’t another note in my mailbox yet?”

Actually I was betting there wouldn’t be, because from what I learned at
the stationery store, their most recent sale was just one package of
Neon-Brite cards, and I had bought the last of them after that. I was
almost positive that Johnson was putting the cards in Janey’s mailbox in
the mornings, before school. Otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to leave
school early the day before and find Thursday’s card already in her

As we turned down her street, Janey started getting antsy and I knew she
was looking forward to another card. I took the sunglasses out of my purse
and ordered her to wear them, just in case. As her house came into sight
she started running, her dress swishing back and forth, and I followed her.
When she opened her mailbox I was just a few steps behind her. I breathed a
sigh of relief. There was nothing inside but a few envelopes. I looked at
them quickly and saw they were all for her father. I also felt a twinge of
disappointment. I still wanted to read the notes, too.

Following my instructions, Janey went up to her room, got all the index
cards she had been sent so far, and brought them down to me. I put them in
my purse.

“Okay,” I said, “give me back the sunglasses.” It was almost fun ordering
Janey around, and I knew it was fun for her. But this isn’t the real Janey,
I reminded myself. She’s happy but only because she thinks she should be.
If she had her old point of view she’d be as disgusted as I am. Probably
more so, since I was halfway down the road to being a “perfect slave”

We walked to my house and I left a message on the refrigerator for my

Mom- Janey and I are upstairs. She’s going to stay the night.
No visitors! Keiko

Just to be safe, I took the phone off the hook. I threw everything on my
bed, ordered Janey to sit at my desk, and started thinking. The problem
was, I knew I couldn’t be comfortable wearing a shirt and bra over my huge
nipples. Though I found their constant screaming for attention more
manageable than earlier (don’t tell me I was getting used to having them!)
I still wanted relief. And that meant being bare-chested like the night
before. But in front of Janey?

Suddenly I had an idea. It was weird, but I couldn’t think why it wouldn’t
work. I had to do something. Anyway, I thought, you need to concentrate for
Janey’s sake. Even though it seemed the mystery was becoming clear, there
were still some things I had to work out.

“Listen to me very carefully,” I told Janey.

“Yes, of course,” she said.

“You’re a great actress, and tonight we’re going to do a little pretending.
I order you Janey, I command you, to act like you did before you were shot
by Rob, okay? Pretend that you’re not a slave, and that you’re completely
normal. I also order you to pretend that tonight no matter what, that I’m
wearing a shirt. And take off that dress and put on something from my
closet that looks more… everydayish.”

“Okay,” she said cheerfully. We changed quickly, me into a different skirt
(and the new underwear I so desperately needed) and she into a pair of
shorts and a flannel shirt I don’t wear that often.

I grunted softly as I gently caressed my nipples. The dark aureole
surrounding them felt bumpy and chafed. I still couldn’t believe they were
wider than my palms. Janey flipped through one of my magazines while I
tried to grope my tender boobs as softly and inconspicuously as possible.
It was like half the nerves in my body had migrated to my chest. God, this
feels good, I thought.

After a few minutes I had a little more control.

“Are you a slave?” I asked Janey.

“What?” she said, and started laughing. “What are you talking about?”

“Just a what-if kind of thing. If someone turned you into his slave, to
make you cook and clean and do… other things for him, would you go along
with it?”

“Like a kinky thing? No way, unless it was Rob, of course. But I still
wouldn’t do any cleaning.”

“Yeah, me too,” I said. “There’s no way I’d ever want someone to have that
kind of power over me.” It was a lie of course, because part of me did want
it and did know how much pleasure there was in obeying.

“Hey Keiko, there’s an article here about how to tell what guys are going
to look like when they’re older. They can do computer aging. Remember when
you told me that you weren’t interested in some guys because you could tell
they would look goofy when they got older? I guess you were right.”

“I don’t remember saying that.”

“Don’t you remember? It was when we were at that slumber party at Brandy’s

“That was like five years ago! How can you remember that?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “I just do, and I always think about that when I
see a hot guy.”

“Wow, I don’t even remember saying that.”

We talked for a long time, just like old times, and as evening approached I
warmed up some cheese casserole for us before Mom could get home and see me
in the kitchen with my shirt off. It truly was just as if things were back
to normal. If only I could keep Janey this way forever, I thought. But is
she truly happy inside? It was confusing to think about: currently she was
happy being a slave but in ordering her not to be a slave she was still
following orders so was she happy or not? I realized that it didn’t really
matter in the end, because the first guy she saw would shatter any
programming I gave her. The cards had made her a slave to pleasuring men on
a much deeper level than anyone’s orders could change. Too bad we couldn’t
move to some Amazon tribe in a jungle somewhere.

I traded places with Janey and spread the clues across my writing desk.
Four sexy neon pink index cards (one a fake, written by me), the visitors’
log from the hospital with “Johnny Johnson,” the play Season of Cupid, and
Herbal Magick For Personal Gain.

I opened the hardcover book and started reading. It was a catalogue of
spells designed to bring the user fame, fortune, and romance. It was the
love spells I was interested in. I expected to find something about Cupid
and his arrows inside, but instead I found a spell that claimed to be able
to romantically control anyone.

While we don’t recommend against love potions (far from it!
see chapter five), in this day and age we would be remiss to
leave out one of the most popular love spells available,
guaranteed to get that special someone into your arms!

Follow the steps below to create a binding paper and steal
the will away from your future love. Note: For those of
you tracking your karma, this spell falls under the
subcategory “curses.”

Things you’ll need:

Dried Witch’s Root
Two Black Candles
Small Piece of paper
(a 3×5 inch index card works best)
Water-based Glue
Small Brush

I had the first note right in front of me, the one that Janey and I had
fallen in love with in her room at the hospital. Though a lot had since
flaked off, there were still bits of stuff, what I now guessed was Witch’s
Root, glued to the back. And a message typed on the front, just as the
recipe in the book instructed.


But the following notes didn’t have any herbs glued to them. Just the
typewritten message. Why? Because they were sent by separate people?

Ordinarily I would have consulted Janey about anything related to magic,
but I didn’t want to risk snapping her out of her Oscar-winning “normal
Janey” performance. As far as I could tell, there was a ninety-five percent
chance that Toby was behind the notes. The book was in his locker and he
had demonstrated today that he knew Janey was a slave. I couldn’t
understand how I had ever liked him, especially after seeing the way he had
treated me today. What an asshole!

But what about Rob? I wasn’t worried that he had the “your body is an
advertisement for sex” card, but taking it from my purse seemed to
demonstrate that he also knew what was going on! Were him and Toby in this
together? They weren’t really friends at all, and I think they might have
almost gotten in a fight once. Toby had yelled at Rob to be careful when he
was monkeying around with the bow and arrow… The first note was different
from the others; maybe one of them had left the first card and the other
the following cards.

Cindy also had to be involved somehow. I still couldn’t believe the
rollercoaster ride she had taken my body on. I tweaked my nipples
unconciously just thinking about her. No, get a grip Keiko, I thought. You
dream about pleasuring men, not women. But wait, that wasn’t right either.

“Damn these stupid notes!” I whispered under my breath.

While Janey watched TV, I worked on a list of suspects a la the beginning
of an Agatha Christie novel. I put everyone I could think of on the list. I
knew I had enough clues to figure this mystery out, but my “little grey
cells” were so easily distracted by the changes to my mind and body. In a
way, I envied Janey and her happiness. Being only half a slave was almost
worse than being a full-blown one. My nipples bobbed above my notepad as I
wrote. If Rob and Toby were to converge on my house tonight, what amazing
things could I do for them?

Keiko Tanaka, a detective
Bright and smart, she is the only one who has a chance at
solving the mystery of the pink notes.

Janey Martin, a friend
A cute blonde, someone has decided that she would make the
perfect slave.

Rob Preston, a jock
Handsome, rich, and incapable of a serious thought, this
preppy guy seems to know more than he should.

Toby Collins, a rebel
From a bad neighborhood, he is way too interested in Janey
to play it cool.

Cindy Allen, a cheerleader
Beautiful and busty, Cindy would like nothing more than for
Keiko to halt her investigation.

James Lopez, a director
Handsome and demanding, this teacher claims to know Mr.
Kirkwood is behind the accident.

Mr. Beergut, a neighbor
This fat, bald peeping tom’s only redeeming factor is
his masculinity.

Mr. Kirkwood, a city planner
Always on the outskirts looking in, Mr. Kirkwood sits
contentedly spinning his webs.

“None-chan, you have a visitor!” my mom yelled.

“No!” I panicked. Jumping up, I grabbed a T-shirt from a hanger and pulled
it over my head as quickly as possible. Janey sat up and looked at me.

“I wonder who it is?”

The door was closed. I ran to it and yelled loudly enough for anyone
anywhere in the house to hear: “No visitors! I don’t care who it is!” But I
heard someone bounding up the steps; I recognized the footsteps
immediately. Only one person runs up my stairs with that rhythm.

“Oh, it’s only Rob,” my mom yelled back, as he pushed open the door. Why
hadn’t I locked it? Quickly I cupped my nipples.

“Hey guys,” he said. He closed the door behind him.

“Hi Rob!” Janey purred, jumping off my bed. She turned the TV off and
walked over to him. Well, so much for her normality performance, I thought.
She stared at him lustfully, and I have to admit having him in my bedroom
just seemed a thousand times more exciting than it ever had before. There
suddenly seemed so many posibilities with him there. He was so handsome,
and so obviously male. Janey twitched with anticipation and I knew hundreds
of sexy scenarios were flitting their way through her mind.

“Now before we get to the real reason why I came, I have something to tell
you, Janey. I think first you guys, uh… sit down, you’re going to be

He raised an eyebrow as we both dropped to the carpet. I was still palming
my nipples so he couldn’t see them.

“Okay… Anyway, I need to apologize for the accident. This isn’t easy for
me to say, but the truth is… The truth is that Cindy made me fire the
bow. Honest. But I swear, no one was supposed to get hurt! It was just
supposed to scare a few people and stick in the wall or something. I wasn’t
trying to hit you, Janey. I’m really, really sorry.”

“I forgive you,” Janey said.

My mind was going a mile a minute. “Why did Cindy want the Drama Club
scared?” I asked.

“She didn’t really, but her grandfather did.”


Suddenly the pieces of the puzzle came together in my mind. “Mr. Kirkwood!
He’s Cindy’s grandfather! He used Cindy to get to you, because he wanted
the play changed!”

“Yeah, the choir kids’ parents wanted to do a musical. If it looked like
Mr. Lopez fucked up, they could put pressure on him to change the play. So
I guess they did. But I just couldn’t live with myself afterwards. I
shouldn’t have been so weak-willed, but Cindy has this way of using her

Yes, I thought, she certainly does. I still didn’t trust Rob, but I was
closer to trusting him than I was earlier today. There was just one thing
about him that bothered me.

“And why did you take the note from me in math class?”

“That’s why I came today,” he said. “Janey asked me to get it from you.”
She winked at me. He pulled it out of his pocket and handed it to her.
“Here you go.”

“No!” I shouted, grabbing it away from her as quickly as possible. I shoved
it under my skirt so she couldn’t see it. For a second she looked as if she
was going to tackle me for it, then she stopped, and blinked. Maybe I got
it in time, I thought.

“Whoa, Mouse, you are poking holes through that shirt,” Rob said.

Janey laughed. “I told you that if you kept ordering her to give you her
purse, eventually she-”

She looked from Rob to me, then twisted her head back and forth. She
inhaled suddenly. “Oh Keiko, I think it’s doing something to me.
Something’s changing!”

No way, I thought. She couldn’t have read it that quickly.

But her subconcious could have.

Janey looked down at herself. Her hands went to her chest and she groaned
loudly and seductively. Arching her back, she groped at her breasts. I
rushed to her and held her shoulders. I couldn’t think of anything else to
do. “You’re going to be okay,” I said.

“My boobs,” she said. “My boobs.”

She arched her back again and I grabbed my mouth. Rob almost fell over. Her
boobs were getting bigger, and even through the flannel I could see her
erect nipples. Her nipples weren’t as big as mine but they were growing.
Her breasts were no longer B cups, but pushing outward slowly – slowly but
surely expanding. She squirmed on the floor and to my amazement I could see
that her butt was a bit larger, too. My shorts looked tighter on her. I
felt a warmth spreading under my skirt. As disgusting as it all was, I was
getting turned on.

“Jesus, should I get some water or something?” Rob cried. Janey grabbed the
waist of his bluejeans and pulled him to his knees beside her.

“What are you talking about?” I said.

Janey took hold of both sides of the shirt and ripped it open, sending
buttons everywhere. Hey, I thought, that was my shirt. Her swollen boobs
popped free. They swayed back and forth like jelly, wobbling crazily. They
were pale and the nipples were almost as wide as bottlecaps.

“Look at my tits… look at my body,” she said in wonder. “God, I’m getting
so… sexy. I want everyone who sees me to think about sex!”

She pulled my hand to her warm boobs and shuddered at my touch. I could
feel them growing, the skin magically stretching under my fingers. There’s
something magical about the energy of another person’s touch, some kind of
message that gets transmitted. My mind was twisting with desire. As I
watched in fascination, her aureolae crept outward, covering more and more
of each breast. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her body. More than
anything else it made my own chest ache. The warmth in my crotch began to
feel more and more wet. The pleasure I knew she was experiencing was so
seductive! Fight it, Keiko, I thought. Fight it! I realized I was
approaching the point of no return but I found it harder and harder to

Rob also put a hand on her shoulder, probably hoping she would move it to
her chest, too. I put my free hand under my shirt and up between my nipples
to the collar, pulling the shirt up and shrugging out of it. Remembering
Cindy, I grasped myself and fell upon Janey, pushing her to the floor. It
felt so good to give in, to stop fighting. Our experience at the window was
only the beginning. She was turning into an advertisement for sex and I
wanted nothing less than to fuck her.

We kissed, and she grabbed at my chest, at my skirt, at my underwear. Her
lips seemed a bit thicker, puffier. I kneaded her breasts, big, soft, and
heavy. I felt a prickle of pain as her fingers got caught in one of my
hairs, but then her hand was exactly where I wanted it to be and doing
almost exactly what I wanted it to be doing, and I found it impossible to
kiss because I was grinning so widely.

“No Keiko,” she said, and pushed me up and aside. I almost hit my head on
my desk. “Men come first,” she said.

As I watched from some kind of brainless, bottomless pit of disappointment,
she crawled with her boobs almost dragging along the carpet to Rob. He was
still kneeling, stunned, but with an enormous erection visible in his

“I know you want me,” she said. “I know you want me more than you’ve ever
wanted any girl.” She kissed him deeply for a few seconds and his fingers
shook. “You have me.”


“I’ll do anything you say,” she said. “Anything.”

A wave of jealously washed over me as I saw him lift her enormous new
breasts and thumb her nipples. Her breasts were so large that they spilled
out of his hands. But I wasn’t jealous of him, I was jealous of her. The
expression of contentment and satisfaction on her face as she looked down
at his big hands fondling her even bigger tits was what I wanted. I wanted
to trade places, to find a card in my mailbox that told me I was Janey
Martin and I had long blonde hair and long white legs and bright blue eyes
and huge fucking boobs.

Things happened quickly after that. Before I knew what was going on, they
were on my bed, and I was, too. I felt like I had when Janey and I were
young and I was always tagging along after her, wanting to go to the same
movies, begging my mom to buy the same brand of watergun, etc. Every man
dreams of being in bed with two women, and I knew Rob was no different. Sex
is such a graphic thing, with pumping and slurping and meaty sounds that
are never described in books. And girls screaming like Meg Ryan. As Rob
pushed himself in and out of my best friend and she called out in passion,
I clamped my lips to hers and drowned her screams in my throat before my
mom and stepfather could hear.

The only important thing was that Rob enjoy himself to the fullest extent
possible. Somehow I knew he did.

Janey and I found it easier to relax after Rob was satisfied. No matter how
hard I tried to feel differently, I couldn’t help but be proud. Janey lay
with her heavy breasts on his chest and I knew the afterglow she was
experiencing was genuine and well-deserved. I found it awkward being on the
bed and moved to my desk. I put my T-shirt back on, and found my skirt.

“You really don’t know anything about the… notes?”

“Nothing,” Rob said. “Janey just told me to get a bright note out of your
purse and that I’d know it when I saw it. You guys have to tell me what
this is all about. I mean, not that I’m complaining, but this is pretty
amazing stuff! Jesus, I can’t believe I just got laid. We’ve been friends
since we were kids!”

“It’s really simple,” Janey said. “I’m a slave, and I’ll do anything you

“Well, I figured out that much. Tell me about the notes.”

Where to begin, I thought. The more I thought about it, the more difficult
I found it to trust Rob. “Someone has been putting-” I coughed to clear my
throat. It was difficult to talk about the index cards to anyone but Janey.
“The bow and arrow from the play poisoned us, and made us fall in love with
the color pink. Since the notes are pink, the messages are kind of like
rewriting our brains.”

“And bodies.”

“Yes,” I said. “And our bodies. The brighter the pink, the stronger the
message. Hence the neon pink cards. I’ve been trying to figure out who’s
behind it all and now it seems pretty clear that it’s Toby Collins.”

“So let me get this straight,” he said. “Toby saw Janey get hit by the
arrow and started sending her notes to make her a slave?”

“I think so.” In fact, I suddenly remembered, he had stared at her butt at
the mall just before we saw that stupid “Teen Princess” shirt.

“But guys, this is incredible! Do you realize that this proves magic is
real? When does it wear off?”

“We don’t know. Maybe never.”

He sat up quickly and Janey put her arms around his shoulders, hugging him.
He put his hands on her bare back and looked at her carefully. The more I
thought about how he had taken advantage of her, the less I thought of him.
It was almost like raping her, in a way, even if she wanted it. Or at least
I would think it would have been like raping the memory of her in his mind.
Do guys really think that differently from girls?

“You mean you’re stuck with these humungous tits- I mean… your larger
bustline forever?”

“Oh, I hope so,” Janey said. “I love my new body. Everyone should see me as
a billboard for sex. Rob, I had the biggest crush on you for the longest
time. I was saving myself for you or marriage, whichever came first. I knew
you wouldn’t stay with Cindy forever. And I could feel how much you wanted
me when my boobs grew out and got bigger than hers ever will be.”

“But you guys always teased me! You had a crush? You were saving yourself
for me?”

Janey giggled. “Of course I was! Well, before I turned into a slave I was.
Since then I only slept with Keiko, kinda, and some fat kid. And Tyler.”

“A fat kid?” said Rob with disgust. “Tyler?”

“Don’t forget Mr. Hamilton,” I added.

Rob grimaced. “Jesus, I think I’m going to puke.”

While they talked I reviewed our options. Knowing that Toby was behind it
all didn’t change anything for Janey and I, except that we had to stay as
far away from him as possible. There were still only two chances to end
this nightmare.

“Here are our options,” I said. “We can either find more of Cupid’s poison
and… contaminate ourselves again, and use the message I typed yesterday
to overwrite all the old notes. Or, we can go someplace safe and wait for
Janey’s blood to become clean. The poison is diminishing, but it takes
time. When her blood’s okay, at least we won’t be in any danger from new
notes. And there’s a chance that even the changes made to our minds and
bodies will fade over time. It’s like being in love. It takes time to get
over. I hope, anyway.”

“No way,” Janey said. “I like the new me.”

“No,” I said. “You love the new you, but only because the notes told you to
love it!”

“So? What’s the difference? You’re not changing me back!”

“Shut up!” I said in exasperation. She quickly closed her mouth. I shook my
head at her. “See, that’s why you shouldn’t want to be a slave. You’ll
never get your way on anything.” She frowned and started examining her new
boobs and squishing them together.

“Well, it’s an easy decision. There aren’t any more arrows so I guess we
have to find a hotel someplace. I can withdraw some money from my college
fund. And Rob, as much as I want to do things to your body that you’ve only
dreamed of…” God did I ever. He gulped and my nipples sprang to
attention. I realized it was a mistake to say such things aloud. But I was
able to keep a grip as long as nobody was flaunting their breasts, touching
mine, or parading a veiny erection in front of me. “…Janey and I are
going alone.”

Because I still couldn’t trust anyone.

“But there is another arrow,” Rob said.


“I shot two, remember? The first one is still sticking out of the gym

We talked a bit longer but it was getting late and after 10:00 my mom kept
calling up to check on us, probably finally worrying about me having a boy
in my room. Well, she was the one who had invited him up, not me! And she
was the one Janey could thank if Janey became pregnant. Janey didn’t want
Rob to leave, and I didn’t either. But I forced myself to pretend I did. I
think it helped that Rob seemed like he was a bit uncomfortable with my
Mom’s constant offers to make popcorn or bring up snacks.

Rob planned to meet Janey and I in front of the school at 10:00, so I set
my alarm for 9:00, but after he left I changed it to 8:00. I didn’t really
trust him and just the fact that he was male could jeopardize any chances
of us returning to normal. If we did get the arrow and there was still
poison in it, I didn’t want anything with a dick between its legs nearby
while we repoisoned ourselves.

I opened my window a crack, to try and air out my room. Janey and I
undressed completely, and slipped under the sheets together. I really
didn’t think anything about it. I was so exhausted, and as we held each
other, naked against the sheets, it almost seemed a shame that once we were
back to normal moments such as these would only be remembered with
embarassment. But for now we could enjoy them. I kissed her nose. God, I
love her so much, I thought.

The alarm woke us. My white curtains were bright in the morning sunlight. I
lifted my head away from Janey’s amazingly feminine chest. In my sleep I
had drooled a bit onto her aureole. Yuck. Groggily I stopped the incessant
beeping of the alarm. Janey started trying to gesture wildly in sign
language and I sighed.

“Okay, you can speak again.”

“I need to go to the bathroom, bad!”

“You also need to take a bath bad.” I helped her cover her breasts, made
sure the coast was clear, and led her to the bathroom. She had trouble
walking, probably because she was suddenly jiggling all over the place.
While she showered, I decided I had to talk to my mother.

I put on my pajamas and held my pillow to my chest, hiding my nipples. Mom
was in the kitchen, standing on the counter cleaning some of the higher

“Morning, None-chan,” she said.


“Rob stayed a little late last night. He’s a nice boy.”

“Yeah, he’s great,” I said. “Janey and I are going to go to the school this
morning, to finish up something. I’m not sure how long it will take.”

She had a dust rag and was dusting behind the jars and ceramic bowls that
we kept around for some reason. I stood in the doorway because I didn’t
want to start sneezing. Slowly moving my pillow from side to side on my
chest felt really… interesting.

“For the play?” she asked.

“Yeah, something like that. But I just wanted you to know that if it takes
longer than I thought, I’ll be home sooner or later. Okay? I love you,

She looked at me. “Now you’re scaring me. I love you, too. I’m thinking
about making pizza tonight, so you don’t want to be late. Be careful.”

“I will.”

Standing in my bedroom doorway after a shower, watching Janey trying to get
her new flower pot-sized boobs into her dress, I didn’t know what to think.
It would have been hilarious if the situation wasn’t so grave. She really
wanted to dress up but of course nothing could fit her. I thought about
wearing her dress, but unfortunately it wasn’t designed for a little
Japanese-American girl.

“Come on, Janey,” I said. “I’ll help you.”

I wore a skirt and white blouse, naturally without a bra. It was almost
bearable. Janey had to settle on my largest T-shirt, tucked into the shorts
she had worn the night before. It strained to hold her bosom into place. I
kept catching myself starting at her breasts. They were so pert.

“It hurts,” she complained. “They pull.” She was trying to lean backwards
to make them more comfortable. Her nipples were as big as mine. With those
breasts and the constantly erect plugs jutting out from them, she’d never
be taken seriously again. Standing, the differences to her body were much
more apparent. Her waist was a bit thinner, her butt bigger (also more
pert), her lips thicker, and she may have been a bit taller, too. But she’s
still my best friend, I thought, somewhere in there. I shoved the pink
index cards into my purse.

“Okay, let’s do this.”

We snuck out to my car, and drove to the school. The parking lot was
almost, but not completely, empty. It was 9:05 and I hoped that by the time
Rob arrived we would be long gone. If Toby had a car, I could have looked
for it. But he’s not rich enough.

I signed in, then went around to the back and let Janey in secretly by the
home economics room. I didn’t want anyone to see her freakish chest and
start asking questions. My nipples were bad enough. But Washington High is
never completely empty and of course some kids saw us as we hurried toward
the gym. A boy and a girl. I think they were sophomores, putting up some
pep rally posters in the hallway. Janey’s hands fidgeted at her waist and I
knew she was thinking about ripping off her T-shirt and exposing herself to
the boy. I pulled her past quickly.

“Whoa, look at that girl’s tits!” the boy said.

“Michael Bolton strikes again,” said the girl next to him.

When we made it to the gym, I smiled as I looked up at the arrow in the
middle of the ceiling. Luckily the volleyball team wasn’t practicing. The
gym was silent.

We weren’t safe until we slipped behind the stage curtain. According to
Rob, Coach Nelson sometimes used the mechanical walkway to get down balls
that had been lodged in the lights, and we could use it, too. The walkway
was able to move horizontally across the whole width of the gym. Sometimes
at junior and senior prom the dance committee hung lights and streamers
from it. I hoped that I could figure it out. I took my drama club key from
my purse and unlocked the barred gate that led to the wings. Just in case,
I also took out my sunglasses and the “you are back to normal” card,
putting them in my blouse pocket (keeping the card out of sight so Janey
wouldn’t go all goggle-eyed, of course). We stepped inside, over the guard
rail, and examined the control panel. A lot of the buttons had faded
masking tape over them and it was hard to read what was written on them.
But I could tell two were worn from use. I pushed the one on the right and
heard a humming noise.

Looking up, I could just see the walkway moving across the gym ceiling.

“Yes!” I exclaimed. It was almost too easy. With a bit of trial and error I
got the walkway positioned almost directly beneath the arrow, and prepared
to go up and get it. There was a warning sign about “maximum load” over the
panel but it was torn and I couldn’t read it.

“Uh, okay, you stay here,” I told Janey. She nodded. I grabbed her
shoulders. “I know it could hold us both but we have to be careful. If you
see Toby… or if you see Rob, yell. Okay?”


I left her standing in the wings against my better judgement. It’s like
leaving a steak guarding a dog, I thought. I’d better be quick. I climbed
up the stairs as fast as possible, hurried across the stage platform to the
mechanical walkway, and stepped out onto it carefully. It swayed a bit, but
seemed sturdy. It wasn’t very wide so I decided to crawl. I’m afraid of
heights, so I tried not to look down. Honestly, I was really afraid of

Slowly I crawled across the gym, more than fifty feet from the floor. I
could hear the ceiling snapping and popping above me as the sun warmed the
aluminum. When I was a kid I used to think birds made those sounds.

It seemed to be forever before I reached the arrow. But then I had another
problem. I had to stand to grab it. I managed to do it, but it wasn’t easy.
When I touched the arrow I thought I would have to really yank it to get it
free, but it came out of the ceiling with no effort whatsoever, a drop of
thick black gunk falling to the walkway by my shoe.

“Yuck!” I said. I almost dropped the arrow, but in the end managed to hold
onto it. I held it carefully, point upright, so that more poison wouldn’t
spill out of the shaft.

It was hot near the ceiling, and I was sweating. I began sliding my way
across the walkway back to the platform above the stage. “Janey,” I hissed.
“I have it.” A few minutes later I was sitting on solid metal (or at least
metal that wasn’t hanging from pulleys and cables) and breathing heavily. I
looked down, but I couldn’t see Janey, or even my purse, in the wings. The
barred door was still ajar.

Oh no, I thought. Why did I leave her alone?

“Janey!” I cried. My voice echoed in the gym. Maybe she just wandered into
the hall to show those kids her boobs, I thought. My own nipples felt
suddenly sensitive, and I couldn’t wait to get out of my blouse. I had a
sinking feeling. I jumped to my feet and ran to the stairs. Why were my
nipples so hard?

A shadow reached out of the darkness and caught me!

I smelled his leather jacket before I saw his face. He pulled me tightly to
him and I tried to stab him with the arrow, but it was a half-hearted
attempt and he caught my wrist easily. Poison splattered against the wall.
He squeezed my wrist and I cried out, dropping the arrow. It clattered to
the platform. He threw me down, away from the stairs thank goodness, and I
cried out.


“I can have Janey any time,” he said. “But first I’m going to take care of
you, Mouse.”

“Toby… why?” I said. I tried to glare at him. I don’t have a chance, I
thought. I don’t have a chance in the world.

“I know you’re Johnson.” Just saying it made my body tingle with sexual
energy, and I found my fingers playing with the buttons of my blouse.

He laughed. “I guessed you figured it out. I always liked Janey. She’s got
the prettiest hair in school. But whenever I talked to her she wouldn’t
stop talking about you. Now she’ll do whatever I want, whenever I want, and
as a girl I doubt you’d understand what an incredible hard on that gives

He moved closer to me. “Why don’t you take off your shirt?”

He’s going to fuck me, I thought. I felt damp and tingly, and my fingers
undid a button. What was the harm in taking off my shirt? I couldn’t think
of any reason why I wouldn’t want to, except that Toby was taking advantage
of me. But he was so sexy and he smelled so nice. I craved him, I craved
showing him my little boobs and their thick puffy nipples. They weren’t
meant to be hidden behind a blouse. I unhooked another button.

“Toby, please,” I said.

I need him so bad, I thought. Why was he teasing me, making me struggle
with myself? If only he would have ordered me directly, firmly, I couldn’t
have resisted.

He put his hand to my cheek and I pushed my head against it, shuddering.
Quickly I unbuttoned two more buttons. To my shock I could smell my
arousal. He pulled the sunglasses from my pocket and dropped them from the
platform. They clattered to the stage and I heard them break. His hands
found mine and together we unhooked the last button on my blouse. He slid
it from my shoulders and I leaned my head against his chest. He smelled so

“You’ll do anything I say, won’t you Mouse?”

“Yes…..” I groaned.

“The poison got to you, too, somehow. It’s not as strong, but it’s strong

My left nipple brushed the zipper on his leather jacket and I gasped
loudly. My hand went to my glistening chest and I tugged at the nipple,
milking it gently, sending a haze of warmth and pleasure and sensuality
into my brain. I watched as my legs spread, then I twisted to wrap them
around him. It felt so good to be losing, to be feeling all my hopes
dashing against him. I hadn’t expected that.

“If I asked you to suck my dick, would you do it?”

“Yes…please… tell me to do it and I will.”

He put his hands under me and lifted me upwards, until my chest was at his
mouth. He sucked a nipple into his mouth and I almost came. His tongue
gently swirled around the swollen strawberries on my chest, licking and
sucking on them so lightly, but just hard enough to make me want more. His
mouth was warm and his breath made my skin prickle. I rubbed my face
against his oily hair, breathing in and out like a bellows, possibly

He lowered me to the platform again, stood, then unzipped his pants. He
dropped them to his ankles and I gazed in lust at the erection poking from
the hole in his boxers.

“Pull down my underwear.”

I jerked it down immediately. His penis wasn’t as big as Rob’s but it was
still beautiful. I wanted it in my mouth; caressing my chest was driving me
crazy with lust. Somewhere inside I knew that I wasn’t myself, but instead
some erotic cartoon version of Keiko; that knowledge was a hindrance that
only threatened to keep me from tasting Toby… and pleasuring him the way
he justly deserved for being a man.

“Tell me to suck you,” I almost begged. I would have kissed his tennis

He only watched me. I squirmed on the floor, kneading my boobs. He’s
playing with me, I thought. How can he be so cruel? His penis was rising
slowly, getting higher and higher, and longer.

“Tell me to suck it,” I cried.

He shrugged. “It’s a free country.”

I lunged at him, grabbing his member and pushing it into my mouth. It was
warm and dry and it felt so right inside of me. I couldn’t believe I was
doing it! I sighed in contentment as I began doing my best to make him
happy. How could I have been so crazy before? This is what I was meant for,
I thought.

“I have to admit, I always wanted to see those big Mickey Mouse ears from
this angle,” Toby said. I sucked on him even harder, moving my lips back
and forth, even lightly touching him with my teeth. It was the first time
for me to have a penis in my mouth. He was getting harder and harder, and
before I knew it he was as hard as a rock. I didn’t know how anything
attached to the human body could become so hard. No wonder they’re called

Suddenly he pushed me away, to the ground, and pulled at my soaked
underwear. Once it was off he spread my legs and fell on top of me. He was
heavy, and I grunted, swallowing the saliva in my mouth.

“Fuck me,” he ordered. It was what I was waiting for. Somehow I knew this
moment was coming, and had been listening, waiting for those words for
days. I pulled him into me.

There was a sharp pain, but then only a wet in and out, stretching feeling
that seemed to be getting better and better. And then it was great! The
rhythm was incredible. I made noises that didn’t make any sense as my
brain’s circuits tried to process the sensations of being penetrated by a
man, at losing my virginity to a guy I hoped was the son of some king in
hiding, ready to whisk me away to a life of pleasuring him at his throne. I
squeezed him along with the rhythm, occasionally opening my eyes to see his
panting face, his silver necklace dangling against my chubby aureolae. His
thrusting was so animalistic, so meaty. I loved every sensation. I knew
with no doubt whatsoever that the reason I was alive was to take men inside
of me, to let them pleasure themselves with my body.

So I was crestfallen to see Rob step behind Toby and crash a history book
down upon his head.

Toby fell onto me – unconcious, but breathing. A trickle of blood rolled
down behind his ear.

“Guess I better call an ambulance,” Rob said. He scratched his chin.

“You know, this is the second person I’ve sent to the hospital in this

Grunting, I rolled Toby off of me, felt him pull out of my body. I clutched
at Rob as he walked toward the stairs. “No,” I groaned. “Please fuck me,
Rob, please. I need it so bad. I’ll do anything for you but I need to come,
I was so close.”

He shook me. “Wake up, Mouse! Keiko! Snap out of it!”

“No,” I pouted, grasping at my breasts. “I don’t want to snap out of it, I
want to make you happy.” I fingered his crotch and he jumped away from me.

“Getting dressed would make me happy enough,” he said. “Put on your

“Yes,” I said immediately. Reluctantly I put my underwear and dress back
on, and pulled my blouse out from under Toby. The card was still in the
pocket. I slipped the blouse on, buttoned it, then rested against the
railing, my fear of heights forgotten for the moment. My brain was
clearing, but so slowly. I’m an adult woman, I thought. I had sex. I gently
rubbed the sensitive opening between my legs. I was so wet. There was a
speck of blood on my fingers. It reminded me of something. What am I
becoming? I’m losing all control.

I stood uncertainly, then walked to the arrow, lying in a small puddle of
black poison. The metal at the tip was bent, but still sharp.

I picked it up carefully and pressed its point into my palm, until I felt
the skin break. Then I fell to my knees. I dropped the arrow. I felt dizzy,
and I saw blood mixed with specks of black in my palm. My whole body began
shaking and my eyelids fluttered. No wonder the doctors thought Janey’s
brainwaves were strange, I thought, and I dropped to the floor.

I could feel a differentness spreading through my body, from the tips of my
toes to the roots of my hair. My thinking slowed. I struggled to hold on to

I crawled past Toby to the stairs, grasping the ground as tightly as
possible because the whole world was shaking. Or maybe it was me. All
colors seemed to vanish, except for a glare on the ridges in the metal
floor before me. Whichever way I turned, the beautiful glare was in front
of me. It was pink. Neon pink.

“Where is it coming from?” I murmurred.

It can’t be, I thought. But I knew it was. The card in my pocket. In the
dim light, the glare was those few thousand photons that made it through my
blouse to the card, bounced back out through the fabric, then hit the floor
and reflected back into my eyes, all the while retaining their bright,
beautiful, perfect color. Not even daring to look down, I pulled the card
from my pocket.

Everything disappeared as I fell into it. I was gone, dead.

“Pretty, isn’t it?”

I blinked and winced in pain. My eyes felt dry and closed with great
difficulty. I realized I was still alive. I ached from bruises in half a
dozen places, my left hand was shaking, but besides my eyes the loudest
pain was between my legs. I tried to remember what had happened. Did I have

When I opened my eyes again, I saw Janey’s face. She smiled and wiped at my
face with a handkerchief. My chin and blouse were wet, my arm asleep from
propping myself up.

“I pushed the card over the edge. Wow Keiko, your eyes are really red.
Sorry, it took me a long time to get back.”

Suddenly I remembered everything! I looked down at myself. My blouse was
damp and I could see my boobs… but they were flat! I eagerly pulled at my
collar and looked into my shirt: my boobs were back to normal! My nipples
were tiny! I slowly reviewed everything in my mind, and realized
immediately that all the mental changes were gone as well. I had no desire
whatsoever to be a slave or follow orders or pleasure men, or advertise
myself as a sexual good time.

“It worked!” I shouted. I grabbed Janey and hugged her. “I’m back to
normal! I poisoned myself again and looked at the card I wrote and I’m okay
now.” I could feel the firm jelly-like fullness of her chest pressing
against me. It was disgusting. I pulled away, and looked at her.

“God, Janey,” I said, “You really look… different. We need to get you
back to normal as soon as possible.”

“No!” she shouted. “Please Keiko, you can’t change me back.”

“And don’t tell me to shut up!” she said quickly. “Please, just listen to
me, okay?”

I looked around and saw the arrow a few feet away, behind Toby. Toby! I
rushed to him. I hope he’ll be okay, I thought. He was so cute. All this
time I had really been acting like a snob, I realized, and all because of
that stupid shirt at the mall. My feelings for him returned, despite the
way he had acted, and I remembered running into him and breaking his
glasses. Toby wears glasses, I thought. How could I have not been excited
by that? I tried to imagine him with them and couldn’t. Despite his
intentions, I was still attracted to him. My crush was back!

“If you change me back it will be like killing me. I’ve really thought a
lot about this, okay? I know I’m not the same now, but I’m happy and if I
go back to the way I was before then the new me will be dead. Keiko, do you
understand? You’ll be murdering me!”

“Yes, but you’ll be thankful. The old you never would have wanted this!”

“Keiko, you know how good it feels to obey people. I never want to give
that up. That’s the new me. I don’t want my personality changed again.”

“Yes, your personality will change and you’ll be different, again, but…”

She pulled up her T-shirt and exposed her breasts. They were pale and
disgustingly, obscenely large, as big as really big grapefruit. The
aureolae were as wide as saucers. They hung heavily from her chest and she
grasped them and held them firmly.

“This is the new me, Keiko! And I love it!” She flung herself at me and I
almost fell over trying to back away. But she was only trying to get to
Toby. As I watched, she rubbed her swollen boobs against his leather
jacket, moaning and cooing and I felt sick to my stomach and perhaps just a
little bit jealous, because Toby had all but said he wanted Janey more than

“It feels so good,” she purred. “How could this be wrong? My body was built
to make men happy. You remember how good it felt. You remember it, I know
you do.”

“For the last time, Janey, it’s not real!” I yelled. “It only feels good
because you think it does.”

She lifted herself away from Toby and took my hand, holding it tightly. “I
have your purse, Keiko.” I saw it by her leg.

“In it are all the notes I got from Toby. Four old ones and one new one I
just got today. I don’t want to leave you, Keiko. After graduation we’ll go
our separate ways but we don’t have to.”

“You can’t possibly have a new note,” I said. “There aren’t any more cards.
I bought all of them from the stationery store.”

She moved closer to me. I could feel her breast on my arm, warm and heavy.

“No…” I murmurred.

“I do have a new one, and I know somewhere inside you want to read it.
Keiko, it’s so simple and easy. The poison’s in you now. If you just look
at the cards, you won’t have to worry about anything ever again,” she said.
“Just a little look, and life will make sense. Remember how happy you were
fucking Toby, how good it felt to make him happy. You’ve had a crush on him
for like forever and now you have a chance to be with him forever.”

I need to tell her to shut up, I thought. But in spite of it all I did
remember how wonderful it had felt to be with him, pleasuring him, the
incredible sensations. Janey’s hedonistic lifestyle was seductive but it
wasn’t worth giving up my life over, was it?

“Give in to it,” she said. “I know you want it. Don’t fight it. You’re
always so stubborn about things, Keiko. It feels so good to have big boobs,
to be sexy. We can stay together forever and be Toby’s slaves and we’ll
never have to worry about anything.”

Tears were streaming down my cheeks. My eyes still hurt. I hugged her.

“I don’t want to,” I sobbed. I looked at Toby’s handsome face, trying to
figure out how I could even be considering going back, but the truth was
that it felt so good to give in, to lose. I couldn’t forget that. Janey
moved closer, whispering in my ear.

“You know what it means to be female, to have a great body and to be able
to use it the way you’re meant to. It can all make sense, Keiko. No more
wondering about anything ever again. You just think it’s a fake kind of
happiness now because you’re not having it now. It’s real.”

“No,” I said.

“Trust me. When you feel it, it will be real, just like before, and we’ll
be together, and we’ll be slaves to anyone who wants our bodies, and we’ll
feel so fantastic. You can’t tell me you don’t want that.”

“I don’t want it.” But I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t sure at all. I felt like I
was being hypnotized.

She ground her breasts against me with a sigh. “Okay, I’ll make it easy.
I’ll open your purse and take out the cards. If you don’t want to look,
close your eyes.”

What would it be like to think I was a slave, completely, one hundred
percent with no doubts whatsoever? To know for a fact that my sole purpose
in life was giving pleasure to any man who wanted it? To be as happy and
sure about things as Janey? Why was it so attractive suddenly? Because I
remembered how happy I had been for those brief moments? Because it felt so
good to give in? My heart was pounding; I sensed this was the most
important moment in my life.

She opened my purse. Its mouth glowed, as if the interior was full of
pastel angels.

“Janey, I’m not thinking correctly right now, I think we-” I said.

She pulled out the first card, and I didn’t close my eyes. Everything was
so beautiful.

Five flashes later, I blinked.

“Okay, that’s that,” she said. I closed my mouth and looked around. After a
few moments of blinking I was able to see her before me. I’m still the
same, I thought. Nothing changed.

I ripped off my blouse to show Janey my boobs, and they were the same size.
Wait, I never would have done that before, I thought. I am different, I
realized. I’m a slave.

“I’m a slave!” I shouted. Janey laughed at me. I must have been crazy not
to realize it before, I thought. It was so obvious. This is so cool, I
thought. My brain is all different and I don’t mind at all! I had been
foolish to fight it. Of course I realized the cards had changed me, had
reprogrammed my mind, but it was so obvious that I couldn’t for the life of
me understand why I hadn’t realized before that I was a slave to pleasuring
men. It was my purpose in life; I should have been able to figure it out on
my own. I shouldn’t have needed a poison arrow to realize it, but somehow I
had. I couldn’t wipe the grin from my face.

“Wow, I’m so happy,” I said.

“See, it doesn’t matter that it’s not real.”

“It is real,” I said.

“Wait, where am I?” Suddenly I didn’t remember. I was in Washington High,
but where in the school? I couldn’t remember the way out. I looked down and
saw I was really high up, above the gym! My head seemed fuzzier than usual.

I felt a tingle in my chest. “Here come my big boobs,” I said. I couldn’t
wait to feel them growing in. Men were going to see them and want me.

I pressed my palms to them flatly, holding them as tightly as possible. I
felt the nipples hardening first, then the breast underneath them pushing
my hands further and further away. The skin was prickling beneath my
fingers. Damn, I’m so sensitive, I thought. I feel great.

“Kiss me,” Janey said.

I grasped her head and kissed her deeply, wholesomely. A small part of me
was amazed that I didn’t even have to think about doing it – the reaction
to her command was like a reflex. There was no other option than doing what
she commanded. The rest of me was just tingling from the pleasure that any
slave feels from doing what she’s told. I gasped and sucked in a breath of
hot air from her mouth. My boobs were getting more and more sensitive, and
I could feel them pulling down. It was so amazing to feel soft breasts
pressing against soft breasts. I only wished that Toby could wake up and
see us.

As my breasts swelled even larger than Janey’s, we broke apart the kiss so
I could play with them. I was gasping and heaving and my body was on fire
in a dozen places. My lips felt like they were puffy or swollen, and my
butt became big and cushiony. I wished I had more than two hands. My body
was becoming ulta-feminine. No man could look at me and not think about
fucking me, which was exactly what I wanted.

“I still don’t understand how there could be five cards,” I said, trying
desperately to think about anything other than my expanding aureolae. They
were getting even wider than before. My breasts were like volleyballs, cow
udders that I was having trouble keeping up. I couldn’t believe how firm
and heavy they were. It felt like two bags of cement were hanging from my
chest. Squeezing them, I could feel stuff inside of them, and they ached.
But they were worth any minor discomfort because they advertised me as a
woman; I couldn’t wait to squash them against some man’s hard chest.

In the middle of it all, I heard someone coming up the stairs. Janey and I
both turned eagerly to await whoever it was, both hoping he had a dick
between his legs.

“Still thinking about it?” said Janey. “You never give up, do you? There
weren’t five cards, one of the new notes was typed on the back of an old

Even caught up in the sensations of my new body, some part of me
understood. I had been completely wrong about everything.

Rob helped us out of the school. I just couldn’t remember my way around at
all. I’m afraid we were all over him. Walking with my new body was an
adventure of wiggling and jiggling. Being in his car was fun. The leather
seats were so soft. He kept us quiet most of the time by ordering us to
make out with each other.

“Shouldn’t there be an ambulance coming?” I thought aloud.

“Don’t worry,” Rob said. “I was sitting in the cafeteria waiting for some
skater to get off the payphone, and then I thought, ‘fuck it, he’ll be

Yeah, Toby will be okay, I thought. I settled back into the luscious
leather seats, so soft and smooth against my back. I couldn’t believe how
nice it was to be a slave. All my struggling with the mystery seemed kind
of pathetic in hindsight.

“Keiko, you tried so hard, but you’re just a girl,” Janey said.

I already knew that the accident was only half an accident, because Mr.
Kirkwood made his granddaughter, Cindy, convince Rob to fire the arrows.
Thus they created trouble for Mr. Lopez and got the drama club play changed
into a musical for the PTA. In return, Rob explained, Cindy was allowed to
sneak into City Hall and edit her personal transcript. But the arrows
weren’t supposed to hit anyone.

I realized I had made a crucial mistake in assuming the first card had been
brought with the flowers Toby had left under the name “Johnny Johnson,”
when in fact it had been part of Janey’s things I had taken to the
hospital. She had used the spell in Herbal Magick For Personal Gain (a book
Toby would later steal from her locker) to make the card, in hopes of
binding Rob to her will. But unluckily, she had used pink paper and the
poison in her blood made her fall in love with her own curse, so she was
forced to follow the instructions to control herself “in mind and body.”
That’s probably why she knew the decoy card I left was fake, because she
didn’t type it herself. It also explained why the typing wasn’t as nice on
subsequent notes – she was typing the notes blind.

Unfortunately, her strange behavior caused Toby to start spying on her, and
he heard her discuss her problem with Mr. Hamilton, the school guidance
counselor. Then he decided to take advantage of her. It seemed that having
his own personal sex slave pushed all the right buttons for him. I knew it
certainly did for me… now.

While I had retrieved the arrow and struggled with Toby, Janey snuck off to
the library to type the last note. Since she didn’t have any more pieces of
paper, she typed it on the back of one of the previous ones. She had gone
to the mall to look for more cards, but thanks to me she hadn’t found any.

“Sorry Keiko,” she said. “In the hospital I just had this realization that
I had to control myself, to make myself a slave. It was so strong, so
right, that I didn’t consider any other options. I had to do it. I couldn’t
tell anyone, especially someone like you who would try to stop me. I knew
it was wrong, but it excited me so much and I just couldn’t stop. I had all
these kinky ideas to transform myself and I honestly couldn’t stop. And
then when you got involved it was the greatest thing ever. It had to be
fated, it just had to be. I didn’t lie to you, well not until the end,
anyway. But only because I knew you’d be as happy as I am.”

“I am,” I said, smooching her again. My head felt different in a strange
way, and I began wondering what Janey had typed on the last note. But she
couldn’t remember.

Rob was able to read it to us.


I learned to read in school. I learned to write in school.

I learned almost everything I know there. I tried to think of anything
missing from my mind but if it was missing how would I know what it was to
think about it? I could still say the alphabet but when I tried to think
about the shape of an “A” I couldn’t come up with anything.

I was a little disappointed that I wouldn’t be able to write The Great
American (Mystery) Novel like I had always wanted. But when I put it in
perspective, that was such a small thing. Life was wonderful and no one
ever had as much fun writing as I knew I would have getting fucked. College
wasn’t an option anymore, but I was already a perfect slave so there really
wasn’t any point to going anyway. Besides, my tits were so gigantic and any
lifestyle that needed them to be covered was out of the question.

Sometimes love is forever, but not always. Time is the only cure. Janey and
I were in love with being slaves, pleasuring men, etc. Perhaps our love
would fade eventually, but I couldn’t imagine it and when I thought about
it I felt cold. Despite being intertwined in Janey’s arms, I shivered. I
suppose it was possible that I would remember how to read and write and do
multiplication some day, but only a small part of me wanted to and only
then because I knew the old Keiko would have wanted it. My life before
realizing I was a slave was pretty stupid, actually.

“Where are you taking us?” Janey asked. “We’ve been driving for a long

“Lick Mouse’s tits,” Rob said. I lowered Janey’s head into my lap and she
smiled up at my jiggling boobs. I shuddered in delight as her tongue lapped
at me. My monster nipples looked much more at home on my huge half-melon
boobs than they had on the little mounds I had before.

“What will we do?” I asked Janey. “This was your idea. Well, we’re slaves.
I don’t think my mom will be happy. I wonder what I should tell her.”

Rob was laughing at us in the front seat. I really wanted him to pull over
so I could fuck him.

“Forget about her,” Janey said, between licks. “We’ll give ourselves to
some rich, sexy executive with loads of cash and a big house – someone from
a good family, I’m thinking maybe a king or some stud-muffin prince – and
we’ll pleasure him every hour of every day.” I started rubbing my wet boobs
just thinking about it, and Janey lapped at my hands. It was a great idea,
though I didn’t really care if our master was rich or not. Janey still
thought she was a princess, which was absolutely ridiculous. As if there
were any kings around here.

“But who?” I said. We definitely needed someone to control us, that much
was certain. I was thinking my stepfather would be a great start.

“Keiko, you’re so stupid,” she said. “It doesn’t matter.”

When I thought about it, it really didn’t.


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