[Tim]

Really great story so far,hope you continue it soon.

[Samurai]

Awesome, as usual.
Can't wait to see the great work you have ahead!

[Wachsende]

Part IV – Virilization

Four minutes later, Allison had covered the final two miles to her house. Instead of soaking with sweat like she should have been, the minor sheen of perspiration imbued her features with a certain pleasant glow. Rounding the corner, she saw Andy sitting hunched over on her front steps. Not yet ready to reveal her new secret, she slowed down to an easy jog that felt like crawling after the exhilarating chase that had preceded it.
As she got closer, she noticed that the day hadn't treated Andy nearly so kindly. Though he had only walked down the street and then sat, the oppressive heat seeped out from around his arm pits and spread across his back. She could practically see her reflection in his slick, oily forehead. Of these observations, she said nothing. Instead, she called out, "Hey, Andy! Front door's unlocked."
His head jerked up and a smile spread across his face. "Finally! I knocked, but no one answered. This heat is killing me!" By the time she reached the steps, his back was already to her and the door parted for the cool, processed air within. As she cleared the top step, she realized that her secret would be less easy to keep than she'd thought. For the first time in her life, she was looking down at the top of his head. Clearly she hadn't imagined the tightness of her clothes. Finally convinced of her own sanity, she freed her bare feet from the laced prisons that confined them. Each foot, once finally yanked free, was red with the tightly press impression of the inside of the shoe that had trapped it.
Andy continued on through the living room and into the kitchen, still with his back to his younger friend. Still not ready to give up the ruse, Allison plopped down in one of the old fashioned bar stools along the counter immediately upon entering the room. The tips of her bare toes flirted with grazing the cool linoleum of the floor. Another first.
Andy's butt poked out from the glow of the refrigerator, the rest of him blocked from view by the thick, rounded white door. He soon emerged with a half-full bottle of lemonade, his favorite, and grabbed two glasses from the cupboard. He filled both, one just a hair more than the other, and returned the bottle to the fridge. He walked over with the glasses and plopped down on the stool next to hers. Keeping the fuller glass for himself, he slid the other over to her. She accepted it gratefully, and in unison they each took a sip.
Then Andy, finally looking up, got his first good glance at Allison. His eyes shot back to his drink, startled. Allison, noticing his surprise, kept her eyes pointedly on her drink, creating the opportunity for him to get a good stare. She wasn't going to say anything if he didn't.
And stare he did, pivoting rather unsubtly to get a look at her from both sides. He bit his lip in the same way he did while double-checking a measurement on one of their many woodworking projects. Finally, with a shake of his head, he dismissed his uneasiness.
Convinced that she was no longer being analyzed, Allison at last made eye contact with her friend. She didn't allow herself to react as she found herself staring down into his gaze for the first time. Her game, for she decided this was a game, had just begun. It would not do to end it at the starting gate. "Sorry about the not being here," she started mundanely. "Surprise, surprise. It's Friday and my dad just couldn't find the time to run down to the post office during the week, and could I be a dear and take care of it for him?"
Again Andy found himself taken aback. "You walked all the way to the post office? It has to be ninety out there! I'd be positively drenched!" She responded with a false, condescending laugh. "Well, boys are just grosser than girls. You know that." Unable to quite keep a self-deprecating tone out of her voice, she added. "You are, as you know, in the presence of a delicate, demure wo-man…" She choked off the giggle threatening to escape.
Andy's belly laugh roared with approval. "So true! My friend Allison, the height of femininity!"
At this, her reserves were broken and her melodious laughter joined his. "You seemed to find me feminine enough last night!" she reminded him with a playful poke to the shoulder.
He jerked back instinctively, his expression suddenly serious. "Hey! What the hell was that for?"
She was taken aback as well. "What? You kissed me didn't you? You held me, didn't you?"
He shook his head with disgust. "Not the comment, the punch! I was just kidding around. No need to whack me for it."
She threw up her hands, defensively, anger spreading across her own face. "What punch? I poked you, just kidding around too! Don't tell me you've turned pansy on me now!"
He rolled his eyes, his disgust only building. "You can't poke that hard! No one can poke that hard. Well, maybe the Rock. But you're not him, and you're no Governator either so fess up."
She decided it wasn't worth arguing. "Whatever. Jesus, I'm sorry, okay?"
He took another sip of lemonade, swallowed, sighed loudly, and shook his head. "Fine, I'm over it. What you want to do?"
"I don't know, what do you want to do?" she replied mechanically.
He shrugged and stared off, his anger completely dissipated. "I really don't have any ideas. We're out of wood for the swamp platform, and we still can't get a bag of cement for the fireplace even if my dad suddenly decided to fix the wheelbarrow so we could bring it out."
She remembered her plan. "You really don't have any ideas?" she inquired innocently.
"No, why do you?" he fired back with a smirk. Allison never had any suggestions.
"Yeah, I think I do," she replied. "You remember our wrestling match last summer.
"Of course!" he boasted. "I pinned you in under a minute, why?"
"Well," she said with mischievous glee. "I want a rematch."
"You're on!" he declared with a smirk, and hopped off his stool. "Where?"
"Out back, on the grass," she replied as she spun away from the wall and stood up.
And up.
And up.
"Wait a minute," Andy wondered aloud. "Since when have you been taller than me?"
"Since always," she replied with perfect conviction.
"Un-uh," he contested. "No way! There's pictures of us all over the place with me taller."
"Okay, maybe not always," she conceded graciously. "But definitely since puberty. Girls mature faster than boys."
"And I am," she declared as she gave him a couple affectionate pats on the head, "a delicate, demure wo-man…"

[Wachsende]

NOTE: Due to a spellcheck error, Alison is misspelled as "Allison" for the entirety of Part IV. My apologies; by the time I noticed the problem, it was too late to fix it.

[Tim]

Bravo!Great job!this is turning out great.and I did feel something was weird with this chapter(too many lls mayhap?).Anyway,this is getting better every moment.I doubt I'll stop following this story.

[Samurai]

So, Alison made me laugh with what she said at the end. "wo-MAN" Bwahaha.

[cwmoss]

Good job Wachsende. Thanks for continuing this great tale. A very suspenseful leave off that just makes my mouth water for your next post.

Take care dude

[scat]

woah ! i 'm allready waiting the next part ! very good!

[Hunter S Creek]

Great story!

Looking forward to reading more!

Thank you for sharing!

Tschuss!
Hunter

[Wachsende]

NOTE: There was originally more to this part that no longer fit once I realized how young the characters still were. So if there's some holes in the story, that's why.

Part V – Environmental Factors

As the two teenagers took their places on the lawn, legs spread in a wide stance and arms reached out for the other, the first thing Andy noticed was the smell. Alison smelled wonderful. Not like cake, or flowers, or any generally accepted enjoyable smell. It was the same kind of musky smell she always gave off when she hadn't showered in a while. But instead of being a sour and offputting body odor, her musk had changed ever so subtly into something richer and earthier — more pecan nut than chicken soup.
Whatever her assertations, something had changed and changed dramatically in the last twenty four hours. When he'd held her against him on the ground the night before, his feet had reached half a foot closer to the flames. Now her arms reached just a bit farther than his, her stance just a bit wider than his, and gaze pointed just a bit up to meet her fierce eyes gazing down. He was about to wrestle Alison, but she was not quite the same Alison he'd known the day before.
They circled each other slowly, never breaking eye contact. The contest, which had seemed friendly as they departed the kitchen, now seemed intense and somehow ritualistic. Alison's presence bore down upon him, but she refused to make the first move.
Finally, when the tension had become unbearable for him, he lunged.
His arms clasped tightly around her waist, but his momentum was immediately absorbed by her taut form suddenly rock hard under her soft, velvety skin. Her back arched, and his feet left the ground. A hand, suddenly just a bit bigger than he'd remembered it, slipped under his butt and held him in place. As he began to release the embrace that should have driven her to the ground, her free arm swung around and pinned him against her. Two seconds in, and the match was effectively lost.
But it was not over.
The tension in Alison's back and legs dissipated and Andy watched the ground snap forward as she fell, with him as her cushion. Even though the ground was soft from rain that had fallen earlier in the week, Andy's back hit the ground hard as Alison's hand and arm dug into him. Both slipped cleanly out from underneath him and groped for his arms. Sandwiched between her torso and the dewey grass, Andy could not take advantage of this momentary opening. Soft, slender fingers found each of his forearms and dragged them to his sides. Her torso pulled away from him, her chest gently grazing him in the process, and her knees — still boney with youth — dug into his calves. The hold on his wrists slid gently up his arms before firmly settling on his shoulders.
For the first time since they'd entered the stifling summer air, one of them spoke. "10 – 9 – 8 – 7…" the familiar high, sing-songy voice cheerfully rang out until it was done.
Her telluric smell now overpowered him.
"You want a remat…" her voice queried before he guided her head to his.
The green stone around her neck again sent the tingling sensation pulsating through her, this time matched by its own glowing light that flashed perfectly in sync with the frequency of the pulsations.

* * *

A hundred and fifty miles up in the sky, another green light pulsated with matching intensity. From the source of that light, that other light, intelligences greater than man's and yet as mortal as his own watched the events in Alison's backyard keenly and closely. Every now and again their gaze would drift, regarding our sparkling blue sphere as whole with envious eyes.
From the corner of the room, if indeed the space could be called that, a man — a very human man — could scarcely contain his rage. Earlier this day, he had been just gathering the bills together to be dropped off at the post office when suddenly the light of the world inverted itself. And then he was here, staring out from chains at the vast absense in front of him, the vast absense where a wall should be. And then the perspective shattered, so that two of the fragments followed the intelligences' pawns through their days.
At first he was merely outraged at the invasion of privacy; it was bad enough that they had taken him, they certainly had no business watching her. And then, as he continued to watch, he noticed things that weren't quite right. At each, the intelligences' twittered in their incomprehsible chatter.
Until finally he watched something horrible. His little girl and her friend, apparently manipulated by a device that she'd had around her neck so long, had engaged in something that, all the cautionary tales in the daytime talk shows aside, he was assured no one that young would do. And, as their twittering filled with increasing glee, it changed her. Bigger and taller she grew until her little friend looked like a play thing beside her. Until finally he watched something horrible. His little girl and her friend, apparently manipulated by a device that she'd had around her neck so long, had engaged in something that, all the cautionary tales in the daytime talk shows aside, he was assured no one that young would do. And, as their twittering filled with increasing glee, it changed her. Bigger and taller she grew until her little friend looked like a play thing beside her. What did these intelligences, these druseklieren, want his his daughter?

[Author]

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