Who Wishes Upon A Star Ch 03

Hello fellow perverts!

I've decided to put a small recap before each episode to keep you all in the loop just in case. In addition, the chapters themselves are written without you needing to read the recap, but optional help is always welcome. I do recommend you read the previous chapters before reading this one. I also plan on making a separate Literotica installment listing all the characters because the list just keeps growing, but that seems too big of an endeavor for now.

I intend to write some other stories which are shorter and quicker for me to write, and which don't follow the narrative of Who Wishes Upon a Star. This chapter ended up being much longer than I had anticipated and it went through some crucial last-minute changes. I should add a warning: there is some dubious consent and race mentions going on here, so readers' discretion is advised.

Any constructive criticism is welcome, though I admit my soul will always be crushed a little (but that's okay). All characters that are in any way sexualized or indulge in sexual conduct are 18 years old or older.

Thank you and enjoy!

*

After a day of utter humiliation and self-hatred, brother and sister Luke and Sally Redwood find themselves at the lowest point of their lives. Desperate, they turn to the legacy of their deceased and much-despised father. His letter directs them towards the Redwoods' old home where instructions for a strange chemical lie. The experiment blows up in their face, hospitalizing them for four weeks of pain, guilt and one life-changing transformation. Sally gains an appearance she has previously only dreamt of having, while Luke's body (at first glance) has barely changed.

There is just one power Luke has failed to mention, but which Sally has come to suspect after a night of seduction with her crush Tiffany. As much as Sally's dreams are seemingly coming to fruition, the bane of Luke's existence makes her mark the following day.

************************************************************************************************************************************************************

Tracy had lain in her bed awake for what seemed like two hours after some weird fleshy dreams.

Her head a mush, Tracy slithered out of the bed like a snail. She pulled herself up and one drowsy step later, she hit her dumbbell. She whimpered the pain through her teeth so as not to wake up her grandparents. This wasn't looking like a good day.

Tracy hobbled out of her stuffy room, and into the bathroom. She remembered not drinking anything with Chelsea the previous night, but it felt like her brain was rearranging itself. Best case scenario: morning headache; worst case: some fuckers spiked her drink and there'll be hell to pay, whoever they are.

+

Chelsea took her morning selfie with no bullshit involved. It's not like those filter bimbos could surpass her any day. She knew that even this down-to-earth presentation helped a lot. Let them twitch thinking they might have a chance with you.

After a shower, Chelsea descended the spiral staircase down to where her brother Samuel was having breakfast. Their Mexican maid greeted her with the usual "Señorita Stewart". Chelsea promptly ignored her, as per usual. Brother and sister shared an awkward glance after which they continued doing whatever else just to avoid talking with one another.

Soon, Sam felt someone tug his leg. Ellie, their six-year-old sister, rubbed her eyes and mumbled about wanting to have breakfast with them. Sam lifted Ellie up to his lap, allowing her to nuzzle her head into his shoulder and fall asleep. Sam revelled in some semblance of patriarchal proud as if he wanted to elicit Chelsea's smile. Chelsea did not move a muscle. With those rosy cheeks and slightly upturned nose, Sam looked a bit ridiculous.

"Have you seen what happened at school?" Sam asked.

Of course, Chelsea knew. She wondered how Sam didn't know she knew. He was such an innocent.

+

Danielle Anderson took her ritual sip of coffee; a bitter sip for a bitter morning.

Benjamin had to go away again for the weekend. They only shared one goodbye kiss before he departed. The previous Sunday night reminded her too much of her bachelorette days: eating Chinese food on her couch in a tank-top and shorts with the annoying sense of loneliness which could be quelled by a stupid one-night stand. One peek at her cleavage, one twerk of her ass, and one smirky wink for good measure and any man could be hers; a piece of history that she gladly hated.

Danielle just hoped Benjamin would keep his promise of taking a break from all those political shenanigans even if she supported them full heartedly. She loved his passion and honesty, but she had grown to despise those dry nights. Perhaps because his company was too precious.

Danielle finished her transformation into Miss Anderson. Principal Gallows would again surely deem her clothing too provocative. Even a nun's habit would be inciting someone's fetish, therefore why she should care anymore.

On the way to school, she opened her phone to notifications galore. Some juicy news roamed online, and who would've thought: Saturnine Lake High School was the main subject.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

It was a bright cold day in January, the clocks were striking 7, and Luke Redwood was checking his dick out. You can call him shallow, but he was smiling with satisfaction. His dick still hurt though.

knock...................knock

"Hey Luke, can you finish your business quickly? I have to take a shower." Sally pleaded from the other side.

"I am not jerking off!" aggravated Luke answered.

"I meant finish showering," Sally sighed with all her energy seemingly depleted.

"Son of a bitch!" Luke cursed to his beard, "Yeah sure. Sorry, I was just looking for any changes."

Luke unlocked the door where Sally stood in their mother's old overalls; her shoulders slouched, her step gracefully slow, her eyes half-closed and looking into empty space.

It had been what? Four weeks? Four weeks and he still he had to remind himself he wasn't living with a stranger. It's difficult to forget 18 years of living with a person who now visually does not exist.

"So? Did you notice any changes?" Sally asked.

"No," Luke said and pulled up his (lack of) bicep, "I thought I could change dad's formula, but no. I am still Luke Redwood, pimpled faced and much scrawnier thanks to hospital diet."

"But his attitude is still intact," Sally joked half-heartedly.

"Thanks! I wasn't as lucky as you."

Sally snickered without much happiness.

She sat down. For a couple of seconds, she stared into nothingness. Luke waited patiently so she could recollect all her worries.

"Do those doctors still call you?" Luke asked.

Sally lit up, having been reminded of yet another problem. "Doctors, specialists, scientists, journalists, writers...Who doesn't call?"

"Fucking shit. Do they now know what "please, keep it anonymous" means?" Luke added.

"I know. Poor Mom. She must wrestle with all of them, and she is equally bamboozled," Sally commented in an exhausted tone.

There was yet another pause. This one couldn't last too much after Luke made the first move.

"Luke," Sally said, "you are now the only person that can understand me to some degree."

"You can tell me everything you need," Luke said.

"Luke, I did it. I slept with Tiffany last night. That was my first time."

"Don't worry, I figured it out," Luke responded in a playful manner, "Just spare me the details."

"Oh, you're improving." Sally joked again.

"Get out of here! I am not that degenerate, I hope."

"Now it's clear that being a perv runs in the family," Sally said, "Look what dad did just because he was horny."

"He was one lewd piece of shit, and a sexist bastard," Luke added.

"Spot on. It takes a sexist to know a sexist." Sally responded.

Luke of course laughed, "Look at me, then look at you. I am largely the same old loser, but you..." Luke wanted to find good words, but the truth was disturbingly obvious. Only a few features still stood as tokens of Sally's old visage. Truth be told, besides her ash-black hair, there were barely any.

"Go on, say it. I am no longer a fat seal who couldn't see her toes. No longer do look I like I call McDonalds my second home."

"If you put it like that..."

"Luke, listen," Sally stopped him, "I wanted to say that this doesn't feel right."

"I know."

"Listen," Sally almost shouted and quivered. "I don't believe I've had any other crush besides Tiffany. You understand, she was my fantasy. Me and her feeding ducklings on the riverside, fooling around the

Terrafirma,

making out at the Christmas fair, kissing her beneath cherry blossoms; those were just my stupid dreams, Luke!" Sally spewed the words out of her heart. She was honest, and that was the most painful part. "Didn't you feel the same thing with Vicky?"

Luke hesitated to respond, "What did you want to say?"

"This body isn't me. It's just a cheat code."

"Hold on a second..." Luke said.

Sally ignored him, "I feel horrible. She acted like she was possessed. Luke, she did everything I wanted, and I liked it. I could never be with her when I was a piece of lard. Now I've become something I am not for my one dumb fantasy. After everything we've done... After all of it, I don't think she truly wanted me."

Sally's eyes glistened. She rubbed them, still not used to being without her glasses. She promised herself she wouldn't cry over stupid things.

She looked at her brother, with determination and unseen confidence that made Luke shudder.

"I need you to tell me: besides changing my body, what else did dad's formula do?" Sally asked.

Luke didn't dare face her. That was all he had to do.

"Fine. Don't tell me," Sally said. "I know you mean well."

Luke turned to her and said, "All those fantasies can still come true."

"Thank you, but I--"

"They will come true. You deserve to be with someone you love, and trust me, she loves you," Luke interjected, "What do you think would've happened if hadn't gone to our old house? I am sure that I would've ended up fapping in a dingy room every Friday night just like I did every Friday night before. But let's say we actually had the balls to improve ourselves the old-fashioned way. If the formula hadn't blown in our face, we would've read some self-improvement tips, we would've eaten healthier and we might have hit the gym regularly. Why? In whatever way you paint it, it's because we never wanted to be ourselves. And the Pygmalion is supposed to be any less superficial?"

Sally nodded in silence. Her cast down eyes made clear she understood him, but not that she was consoled, or that she believed his words.

"The Pygmalion?" Sally cocked her eyebrow.

"Dad's formula. That's what he named it," Luke answered.

+

Sally refused to go to school, and Luke could not blame her. Together with their mom they tried to find out what the most inconspicuous explanation for her change would be and of course there was none.

Your student has lost half her weight and now looks completely different. I hope you don't notice

. In the end, their mom just informed the principal Sally "was still not feeling well". It was up to Sally to decide when to return.

Well, Luke was now walking to Saturnine Lake High alone, ready to again face the torture that is student life.

The entrance was clamoring with students, and he could still expect there would be more inside. Luke plodded through the school hallway amidst a sea of his lively colleagues. Some unexpected whispers could be traced in the air.

As usual, he ignored the hullabaloo to just enjoy his thoughts. The voice of guilt that had paraded inside his head for the last four weeks vanished from the limelight, chained by words of perverse confidence. The last time he left his classmates, he was sprinting half-naked across the town to his house. He now returned with powers that no man has ever possessed. In a sense he was a freak born out of a lab accident and that was a fact that he was weirdly content. It brought him into a welcoming reverie until he noticed that the crowd had been turning surprisingly silent and he got the oppressive sense that all eyes were on him.

Unusual, but he shouldn't lose his mind over it, he consoled himself unsuccesffully.

As Luke walked on, he noticed a girl's phone fall from her pocket. He didn't know her. Some blonde junior, he assumed.

"Hey, you dropped this," Luke mumbled and held out her phone. The girl turned with a smile ready for a show of gratitude which quickly disappeared the second she did so.

Luke was confused. The girl avoided eye contact like she would rather be anywhere else. Luke just kept offering the girl her phone. She stepped away, keeping her hands away like she was being given literal shit.

Some junior reached out and smacked the phone out of Luke's hand to his shock.

"Karen, here you go," the junior told the girl. "Thank you," she said and began whispering into his ear.

The crowd became louder because the first move was made, and the cat was now out of the bag.

Puzzled Luke turned away and kept walking through the hallway, trying to keep his cool with stoic silence, but disdain hurts every single time.

When he was near his hiding spot at the cafeteria wall he rushed out in a panicky step. He just needed to escape those invasive looks. There, he was relieved to see a friendly face. Charlie had waited for him but was not happy to see him arrive.

"Holy shit! Charlie, where have you been? How are you?" Luke asked.

"Where were you, dude?" Charlie rushed to his friend like he going in for a kill.

"I-I-I went through the corridors first. It's great to see you again, man."

"Great to see you too, but dude, what is going through your head? Why did you even go to school today? You had a perfect alibi with your hospital stuff."

"I don't know what you're talking about. Why shouldn't I be here?"

"Oh," Charlie took a pause, "You don't know?"

Luke replied, "Know what? I had to give Mom back her phone, and our Wi-Fi is still shit. We can't rely on door-to-door gossip."

"The video."

Charlie said it, and Luke immediately knew. For all these weeks he thought Chelsea didn't have the guts to make word of her threat, but what a dumb idea that was.

Charlie watched his scrawny friend's attention escape from the conversation and ignore him. Luke's head slowly grew heavier. To Charlie, Luke hadn't looked much weaker in the hospital. Like he could feel Luke's anguish, Charlie would have forgone all stupidity of fragile masculinity, embraced his friend and told him that everything will be fine, when Luke just said, "Forget about that bullshit."

"Umm..." Charlie failed to not look surprised, "You look ... optimistic. That's good. Tough skin and all."

"Me tough-skinned? I am made of adamantium. I am like a Death Star. Blow me up and I am back for the sequel."

"You are an 80s slasher villain, I get it," Charlie chuckled, "Are you sure you still want to go to school today?"

"This day or the other, man. They will never forget it," Luke said and offered a fist bump.

That wasn't much reassurance to Charlie, but he gladly reciprocated.

"Sorry if I get you in trouble," Luke said.

"No worries, mate. No matter what!"

"Then we'd better go. We have Travers first, so I would've written my will if I had planned on being late."

As Charlie was about to follow Luke, he asked one thing, "I am sorry I didn't appear last night."

"You don't need to feel bad about it," Luke replied across his shoulder.

"How is Sally doing?"

Luke had hoped he could avoid telling Charlie anything about Sally. "She is feeling fine," Luke said, "She hopes to see you."

"Ok," Charlie curtly said and turned to silence. Luke just begged the subject to be kicked down the road. He begged that voice of guilt would not resurface.

+

Danielle Anderson strode through school halls with such fury that you could almost feel the floor tremble. Her resolute glare betrayed her deep irritation.

As per tradition, when she walked by, each student gawked at their favorite piece of her body. She had heard every possible lascivious comment. They had never tried to conceal it.

There was Troy with a few of his equally fit football teammates. He was a brazen kid, partly because he was callous, partly because he was too stupid to understand that word.

"Rumble in the jungle," Troy whispered to his buddy.

"Mister Napier," Danielle's voice echoed and stifled the hall (a herculean task), "your extra credit essays have not yet been given in." With only a word, Danielle towered over the jock.

Troy played a tough guy act, "Teach, I still have, like, a week."

"No, you will have one entire year. If you don't care about your grades, F is as good as any."

Troy turned pale, "The fuck! You can't do that! My parents are gonna kill me, teach!" His friends snickered.

"It's Miss Anderson! I am your teacher, and you are an irresponsible little kid who can't see beyond the length of his..."

Danielle stopped herself, biting her tongue. Another second and the school would have another parent complaining about teacher abuse.

"Classes are about to start. Hurry up!" Danielle ordered and Troy scurried away. She could hear him commenting to his friends, "What the fuck was that?"

Danielle had always known what to expect from hormone-raging adolescents. She had decided to become a teacher after all, but nobody would dare call her a glorified nanny. She promised herself that. She would make her family proud and show that a black woman can beat the unjust system. No misogynistic prick would dare tell her she got by using her looks and not her brains. "You should have gone into modelling," she remembered such compliments by beefy boneheads who just wanted to get laid, which admittedly worked at times. She couldn't allow that to be the case; she would deserve her success.

When her career finally began, when she was supposed to finally become a matriarchal educator of a bright generation, she struggled to keep her idealism intact in the sea of racism and misogyny. Still, she took pride in the fact that she was there to guide them in the proper direction, which they would one day cherish. Even amidst all that gross objectification, all that racism and gross cynicism, Danielle never yielded. For every Troy, there were dozens of students whose potential was never wasted. They were hardworking, they were interested in what she had to say.

Now when one of those bright students was revealed to have been jerking off in the girls' locker room with a bra of the most popular girl in school, Danielle's disappointment was too overwhelming. She again saw those boys and girls as what they were: immature, prejudiced, licentious monkeys. Yet again she felt like a piece of meat.

Danielle was late. Before she even touched the handle of the teachers' lounge, Gary Travers, the school's pudgy history teacher, flung the door open to escape his surplus of social interaction. Danielle chuckled out of shock and Gary apologized a hundred times in a span of ten seconds.

He stood as if to start a conversation before muttering a goodbye. Danielle had always found him nice, if rather uncouth.

The other colleagues were a gallery of both friendly and aggravating faces. To be more honest, the gallery consisted of two Girls with a Pearl Earring in an exhibition of doodles.

"Well, look at that. Somebody partied hard last night," Bruce Reed, the biology teacher, took his opportunity for a snappy remark. Danielle kept a stone expression. She only said hello and hugged her friend Angela who seemed to have just had her first smile of the day.