Date: Thu, 24 Oct 1996 13:18:47 -0700 (PDT)

From: Bill Hart 

Subject: SRU: Halloween Party





I getting lazy folks.  The SRU in the subject line refers to

the "Spells 'R Us" Universe.



As always, enjoy.  Or not.  The choice is freely yours.



Bill

bill.hart@macsch.com

--------------------







Spells 'R Us:  Halloween Party

Bill Hart



The Lambda's Halloween party was tonight.  Just about everybody, who was

anybody, on campus would be there.  CeeJay Larson hadn't picked out a 

costume yet.  But then, he hadn't figured on being invited at all.  His 

fraternity was the butt of some really weird rumors, so he'd been 

almost shocked when he and a couple of his brothers received invitations.



He was looking for something unique.  What he seen so far rummaging 

through through the fraternity's costume selection was not overly 

inspiring.  In fact, calling the costumes crap would have been a

compliment.



"Hey, CeeJay." came a voice from behind him.  "Find anything worthy of

being worn to the party tonight?"



"Naw.  Not in this garbage." he replied, as he turned towards the source 

of the voice.  He thought it belonged to Patrick, one of the frat's new 

pledges.  Or maybe it belonged to pledge standing beside him, Patrick's 

virtual shadow, more commonly known as Shawn.



CeeJay couldn't remember their last names.  But it really wasn't very

important, since he didn't think either had a snowball's chance in hell

of making it past being a pledge.  In fact, he'd never understood why 

the frat council had allowed them to pledge in the first place.



"That's too bad." said Patrick.  "You can't get in, unless you're in 

costume."



"Well, then I guess that maybe I won't be going."



"Really bad move, dude." replied Patrick.  "I hear those two foxes, 

Charlotte Morgan and Samantha Johnson, from the new sorority were invited

and are going to be there.  It'd be a real shame to miss an opportunity 

to meet either one of them."



"For sure.  But its getting late and I don't have a costume."



"Maybe you could try that place in the mall." said Shawn quietly, almost

to soft for CeeJay to hear.



"Shut up!" exclaimed Patrick.



"What place in the mall?"



"It's really nothing." replied Patrick.  "Ignore Shawn's ravings."



"What place in the mall, Shawn?  Tell me."



"It's a little hole-in-the-wall place and it might be a little hard to 

find." Shawn replied sheepishly.  "It's called Spells 'R Us and its run 

by an old man who says he a wizard.  I think Patrick and I bought 

something there once, but I can't remember if they sell, or even rent, 

costumes there."



"It might be worth a look.  Thanks."  And as CeeJay left, he thought 

"Maybe I've misjudged them.  But then again, maybe not.  A store in the

mall run by a wizard.  Yeah, right."



                               * * * * *



As soon as CeeJay entered the mall, he knew he hadn't misjudged them.  A

hole-in-the-wall?  Might be hard to find?  "Bullshit." thought CeeJay.

The shop was in plain sight.  It was as clear as the tits on Samantha

Johnson's chest.



"But I'm here." he thought.  "It can't hurt to look."



The bell over the tinkled as it announced CeeJay's entry into the empty

shop.  There was nothing, absolutely nothing, in the shop, unless you

counted the door in the back.



"Bad joke, guys." he thought angrily.  "Looks like your days as pledges

are over.  Someone's gonna pay for this."



CeeJay strode to back door.  He knocked, then knocked again.  There was

no response.  As he turned to leave, he was suddenly face-to-face with an

bathrobe-clad old man carrying a large cardboard box tied with a piece 

of string.



"Greetings, Clarence Larson, Jr.  Welcome to my shop.  And don't worry,

from now on I'll call you CeeJay.  I know you detest being called

Clarence Junior.  Sometimes parents don't have the slightest idea what

a name can do to their children."



"What?  How?"



"CeeJay, CeeJay, CeeJay.  Weren't you listening to Shawn, when he told 

you the shop was run by a wizard?  It was my idea to tell you up front, 

so I wouldn't have to repeat this boring repetitive scene.  I can see

it didn't work.  Oh well, back to the drawing board."



CeeJay just stood there, mouth agape.



"By the way," continued the wizard holding out the cardboard box, "This

is for you.  Its your costume for the Halloween party tonight.  Its all

I had left, but I think you'll like it.  And don't worry if it doesn't

fit at first, its self-adjusting."



Still speechless, CeeJay took the box.



"And you need to remember these three things.  Don't forget them.  With

the conflicting spells about your fraternity house, the consequences 

could be dire.  Very dire, indeed.



"One.  You must be in costume and away from your house before seven this

evening.



"Two.  Once you leave your house, you cannot return before two in the 

morning of tomorrow.



"Three.  You must return to your house before the rising of the sun.



"Is this clear?  Do you understand?"



"Yeah.  Sure." replied CeeJay finally finding his voice.  "How much do

I owe you."



"Owe??  Why nothing, my boy.  Its Halloween.  Everything in the shop is 

free on Halloween.  That's why the shop is empty.  Now, I really must 

be off, Halloween's one of my busiest days.  Enjoy the party!  But 

remember what I told you."



CeeJay blinked, and the wizard was gone.



"Weird.  Really weird." mumbled CeeJay.



                               * * * * *



CeeJay went straight to his room after his return to the house.  He would

have denied it, but he was anxious to see exactly what costume the 

wizard had given him to wear.



He untied the string and dumped the contents of the box onto his bed.  

He stared at what lay on his bed.  He couldn't believe what he saw.



A skirt.  



A sweater.



A pair of frilly lace panties.



A pair of white cotton socks.  



A pair of tennis shoes.  



A skull cap.  



A wig of long raven-colored hair.



"Its a god damn cheerleader's outfit." he thought.  "I can't wear this.

Wizard or not, that old man can't expect me to wear this.



But the thought of the old man reminded CeeJay of his first warning.  He

needed to be dressed and out of the house by seven, or else.  Right now,

It was the "or else" that had him worried.  He hadn't really believed 

in magic.  Until today.



CeeJay stripped and tossed his clothes into a heap on the floor.  Then he

slowly put on the costume.  First the panties.  They felt really soft as

he slid them on, but they didn't fit well.  Then the skirt, which 

stretched out at his waist.  Remarkably the socks went onto his feet, as

did, even more remarkably, the shoes, which had to be at least five sizes

to small, slid onto his feet.  Curiously, he felt no pain in his 

obviously cramped feet.  And as he pulled the sweater over his head, it

pulled taut his chest and waist



CeeJay looked into the mirror.  "What an awful sight." he thought.  He 

looked like he'd slept in these clothes.  Even with his shoulder-length 

brown hair, there was no way he'd be mistaken for a girl.  Thank goodness

for small favors.



"Ugh!" he thought.  "I'm going to be hearing about this for years.  After

all this trouble, I'd better get to meet those foxes from the new 

sorority.  That's the only thing that will make this all worthwhile."



He looked again in the mirror and saw his hairy legs.  His thin, scraggly

mustache.  What was that on the upper left side of the sweater.  It 

looked like writing of some sort.  He looked closer and saw that it was 

writing.  It was "Name" embroidered in script.  



"The costume is self-adjusting the old man had said." thought CeeJay as 

he looked once again at his pitiful reflection.  "What a load of a crap. 

But, its getting closer to seven, so I guess I'd better put on the cap 

and wig, and head for the party.  Oh, the pain."



CeeJay had never worn a skull cap before and he was surprised that his

shoulder-length hair fit under it completely, seemingly without a trace.

To a casual observer, he could easily have been taken as bald.  Amazing.



Standing in front of the mirror, CeeJay pulled on the wig and discovered

the wizard's meaning of "self-adjusting" clothes.  It wasn't the clothes

that changed, it was CeeJay himself, or perhaps herself, that changed.



Long, slender legs.  



Wide hips.  



Narrow waist.  



Delicate feminine fingers on equally delicate hands



Full pouty lips.  



Pert nose.  



Attractive face.  



And tits.  Not as big as he would have preferred, but still perky, full

bodied tits.



And unmistakably written above the left one was "CeeJay" in embroidered

script letters.



He couldn't believe what he was seeing reflected in the mirror.  He ran

his hands across his new form along his new curves.  He cupped one of

his braless breasts.  Then reached down into his panties to discover ... 

HIS womanhood.



"Damn, am I going to have fun at this party, or what?.  No one is going 

to believe its really me dressed up like this.  Hell, no one's gonna know

I'm really a man."



                               * * * * *



"Wow, what a costume, CeeJay." remarked Patrick as they passed in the

pantry.  "Is that really you?  I wouldn't have guessed you could fit 

into a costume that small."



"Yeah, amazing isn't it.  I got the costume at that shop in the mall you

and Shawn told me about this afternoon.  I really owe you guys."



"Did the old man give you any instructions?" queried Patrick.



"He gave me a couple of do's and don't's.  No big deal."



"Make sure you do exactly what he told you to do.  Don't deviate, even 

slightly." said Patrick, who then disappeared up the stairs.



"What's with these people and their rules?" thought CeeJay.  "After all,

its Halloween.  Time to party."



                               * * * * *



And CeeJay partied, just as he had always partied.



At midnight, he was still going strong.  He had by then introduced 

himself to both Samantha Johnson and Charlotte Morgan.  They'd become 

friends.



And he danced with Samantha.



And he danced with Charlotte.



And the beer and the wine flowed like water. 



At one, he was starting to slow down.  He failed to realize that he 

didn't have the capacity for alcohol that he normally had.



He saw Terry from his frat.  



And his date, Crissy.  



"What a fox." he thought.  "Damn, I wonder where all these big-breasted

women are coming from."  



At that moment, he noticed Crissy staring intently at him.  



Instinctively, he knew that she was telling him "Hands off, Terry's 

mine."  He was surprised by that thought, but it made him smile.  He

wondered how she'd feel if she knew that he was really a man.



And the beer and the wine continued to flow.



At two, things were fuzzy.  



CeeJay was in a fog.



Samantha and Charlotte had left, as had Terry and Crissy.



So he danced with his frat's president, Dennis Reilly.  CeeJay, like

everyone else who knew him, thought Reilly was an obnoxious prick.  But

Dennis didn't recognize CeeJay and thought he was a girl.  But then, 

everybody knew that Reilly was a couple dozen cards short of full deck. 



It was a slow dance.  And as the music ended, CeeJay figured he'd make

Dennis' day.  It wouldn't take much, a quick peck on the cheek.



That was his thought, but it wasn't his deed.  CeeJay and Dennis were

soon locked in embrace, deep in a kiss that might be better described 

as a tonsillectomy.



"Wow!" exclaimed a stunned Dennis as the embrace ended.



And CeeJay only smiled, and then giggled slightly.



And still the beer and wine flowed.



At three, CeeJay was asleep.



In a cot in one of the spare Lambda rooms.  No one was allowed to leave

the party in the condition CeeJay was in, unless a friend accompanied 

them.  



                               * * * * *



"C'mon, CeeJay.  Time to go home." spoke a familiar voice.



"Okay." mumbled CeeJay.



"Are you alright?"



"Ima fine.  I musta hada little too much to drinky.  A little more

sleepy poo and I should be just okey dokey.  Could youse peese close that

curtain, the sun inna mine eyes."



"Okay.  You go back to sleep, and we'll take you home."



                               * * * * *



It was past noon, when CeeJay woke, still decked out as a cheerleader.



"Oh, shit!" thought CeeJay as a hand reached up and cupped a feminine 

breast.



Getting out of bed and walking over to the mirror, CeeJay stared at the

girl reflected there.  It had been fun last night to be her.  But CeeJay

didn't want to be her forever.  Nervously reaching up, CeeJay pulled off 

the raven-haired wig.



CeeJay's body tingled, as it changed.



A glance in the mirror showed disheveled, ill-fitting clothes, once 

again fitting tight across the chest.  The embroidery once again read

"Name"



CeeJay sighed in obvious relief.  "I must have gotten home in time to 

prevent anything bad from happening to me.  I'm me again."



CeeJay reached up again and removed the skull cap.  And felt once again 

the familiar feel of shoulder length hair.



The sweater was pulled off and tossed on the bed.  It felt wonderful

to be free of that constriction.



There was a knock at CeeJay's door.



"Come in.  It's not locked."



Into the room came Sam and Charlie.  "Are you alright?" they asked

simultaneously.  



"You weren't looking so good when they brought you home this morning."

added Sam.  "We were really worried about you."



But Charlie was alternately staring at CeeJay and the sweater.  "You 

know, that sweater fit you perfectly last night, and it looks simply 

awful this morning.  You really must tell us, how you managed to fit 

into something so much smaller than you."



CeeJay smiled, answering simply, "It was magic."



"Yeah, right." said Sam.  "Now tell us the truth.  I know I'd never

look as good wearing that sweater as you did last night.  And neither

would Charlie, and her tits are only a little smaller than yours, 

Clarinda Jeanne."



"Damn it, Samantha." said CeeJay.  "You know I absolutely detest being 

called Clarinda Jeanne."



And CeeJay smiled but couldn't hold back her laughter.  



And it wasn't long before her sorority sisters joined her.



END 

    Source: geocities.com/westhollywood/heights/2671/stories

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