Summer Bucks The Trend Pt 02

Summer's mind swam with questions as she hurried outside. How had Cynthia known about her changes? Did she see the bulge of her erection? Maybe she was in the bathroom? Had the maintenance man told her something? And what would she ask in return for keeping quiet? Money? An endorsement? One thing was for sure: this was not going to turn out well, and just when things were starting to look up.

Summer was so preoccupied with all these thoughts that she nearly collided with Alex as she turned a corner. She was so startled at the sight that her tail flagged and shot straight up and out of the back of her skirt. She quickly turned and stood with her back against the wall, hoping no one had noticed.

"Woah there, Summer. What's going on?" he asked.

"Hey, Alex. Sorry I'm just a little preoccupied at the moment," she said, sweating and holding her arms against the wall to block sight of her tail.

"Hey, I was just wondering if you wanted to go out tonight. Maybe we could grab some dinner, see a show, go out on the town. . "

Summer kicked herself. She and Alex had often hung out on campus, but they hadn't gone out on a proper date since the first one a week ago.

"No. Sorry, I really want to, but I have plans tonight," she said with genuine disappointment.

"Seems like you're busy a lot, Summer. Are you not feeling this," he wagged a finger between them, "anymore?"

"I am. I so am. I'm sorry. Things have been really crazy lately. How about Sunday?"

"That works for me!" Alex said with a relieved smile. He had shaved. It was a new look, but a good one, though his seemed to have a less masculine shape without it.

"Excellent," Summer nodded and slyly slipped her tail under her blouse. The two chatted for a little while. It was an effortless, enjoyable conversation about their favorite public art on campus. Alex must have picked up on the fact that she wasn't really in the right mindset for anything too challenging. It was always a pleasure talking to that man, but each and every ounce of joy was immediately counterbalanced by anxiety. It felt more like she was building a house of cards than a foundation for a healthy relationship. No matter how high she managed to build it, it would only lead to a spectacular collapse when he found out about her. . . condition.

==___ ;,-,y___==

With the solstice only a week away, it was still quite bright out at 7:30. The shadows were growing longer and the air had gone from muggy and hot to refreshingly warm. Summer was still sweating like crazy under her overcoat. She was more appropriately dressed for a mountaineering expedition than a summer evening. Her outfit was even less appropriate for Resturante Liandra. She stood outside on the flagstone patio and watched waiters in immaculately pressed shirts expertly providing service to a rather put-together clientele. She could tell at a glance that each table had some reason to come here. It was business meetings, birthdays, anniversaries, and dates all around.

"Do you have a reservation, miss?" asked the host.

"I am meeting a friend here. Cynthia?" Summer imagined that she looked quite out of place, like an animal trying to blend in with a group of humans. Gods, she thought, that wasn't far from the truth.

He ran his finger down a handwritten ledger. "Ah yes, she's been waiting for you."

"May I take your coat, miss?" asked a well-groomed valet.

"No no, I'll keep it."

"Very well. Mr. Madeo will show you to your table."

The host gestured to a waiter who nodded a greeting and made his way toward the back of the house. The tables were all set with white tablecloths, finely folded mauve napkins, and wine glasses. People turned to stare when they heard her clomping by. Her feet had grown long enough that the heels were fully outside her boot, and her hoof tips were nowhere near the toes of the boot. It made it impossible to move quietly. Only an extremely aggressive lace-job was keeping the boots on at all.

Cynthia's table was tucked away deep in the back of the restaurant behind a corner. Thankfully, it was about as private as it could be without being in a different room altogether. Cynthia smiled when she saw Summer and gestured to the seat across from her. She had changed out of her t-shirt and jeans and was now wearing a more appropriate olive-colored knit cardigan and black slacks.

"Summer. I am so glad you came."

Summer sat, leaned in, and whispered, "Alright, Cynthia. What do you want from me?"

"I am so, so sorry if I freaked you out at school," Cynthia replied. "I just wanted to have dinner and talk, but wrapping it in a threat was the only way you'd listen to me. I hope you understand."

"Wait, you just want to have dinner with me? That's it?"

She nodded. "And talk. Yes." She took a sip of water. "I hope you enjoy the spot. It's a little expensive, but don't worry, I'll pay. I know you've been going through a lot lately."

Before Summer could ask her next question, the sommelier arrived with a bottle of wine. Cynthia wiggled in her seat.

"You are going to love this rosé. It is my absolute favorite." The man poured a splash into her glass and Cynthia performed the standard swirl, sniff, sip, nod ritual. He poured a generous amount into both their glasses and left the bottle at the table. "Drink! Tell me what you think!"

Summer took a sip. It was a sweet, simple wine. No complexity, but difficult not to enjoy. "It's very good. Now. How did you know about. . . me? Who told you?"

"Of course. No one told me. To be honest, I just kind of guessed. The fact that you're here seems to imply that I was correct."

"That's it? You guessed?" Summer's heart sank. She suddenly felt like her clothes were invisible, and anyone who glanced over could see her warped, naked body.

"An educated guess. I don't want to make it sound obvious or anything. You've done a very good job hiding what I can only imagine are some very extensive changes." She ran her eyes up and down Summer. "'Winter in summer is the new breakfast for dinner.' Very clever. Only you could pull something like that off.

"The reason I knew was because I'm something of a transformee. . . let's say enthusiast." She leaned in and lowered her voice. "I find transformed people like yourself to be very, very sexy." She relaxed back into her chair. "It started when I was just a little girl. I had an obsession for transformation and alchemy. I learned everything I could about it, what little was available in this backwards town. If I were born somewhere else, I'm sure I'd be a professional alchemist by now. When I came of age, I realized that I found the concept very, very arousing. Not to BE transformed myself, mind you, but to sample the endless variety of the bodies of transformees.

"Over the years, I've gotten very good at picking up on the little clues that someone is hiding something. The extra bathroom breaks, the subtle bulges," she sipped her wine. "The sudden unseasonal changes in attire."

Summer sneered. "You're a pervert!"

"Call me what you will," Cynthia said, taking another sip, "I have made peace with what I am and learned to find the pleasure in it. I hope someday you can do the same."

"I am more interested in curing myself than making peace with the disgusting body I'm trapped in."

Cynthia rolled her eyes. "You can't be serious. No one ever gets reverted. People try sometimes. They get some shady back alley alchemist to make them a serum, and they all end up as a pile of breasts or a walking penis or something like that. Like it or not, you're stuck with whatever you've got." She watched Summer's face fall and took a moment to read the menu.

"That's what I was afraid of," Summer said to herself, quietly. She drained her wine glass.

The waiter came to take their orders.

"I think I'm going to have the meatballs. You should try the steak. It's awesome here."

"No. . .I'll stick with the arugula salad."

She hadn't had much of an appetite for meat recently. The waiter collected their menus and left.

"I want you to feel comfortable and have a good time at this dinner," Cynthia said as she refilled Summer's wine glass, "but I feel like I have to say that it's terrible what you did to Sasha today."

Summer reached down and readjusted her ballsack.

"We both know it was inevitable. She should have left as soon as she became a mutant and couldn't hide it."

"Still, you shouldn't have done what you did."

"I would have lost all credibility if I hadn't done what I did. It was her or me, and realistically she was done for as soon as Gracy brought her up on that hill." Summer looked into Cynthia's eyes. She seemed unconvinced. "Think about it this way. If you throw an animal into the lion pit, you don't blame the lions for killing it, do you?"

"Look, I don't want to harp on the issue. I just feel like it shouldn't have been you to do it."

"I do feel bad about it," Summer admitted after a pause. "I don't think I would have a month ago." She took another sip of wine. "I guess I'm the only. . . mutant at the academy now."

Cynthia chuckled. "You really think so?"

"You mean there's other people hiding their changes like me?"

"Hiding their changes, yes. I can't say anyone is doing it quite like you. I'm surprised. I thought your friends knew all sorts of gossip. I expected you to know about at least ONE other."

Summer's eyes widened. "You have to tell me. Who is it? And what are they hiding?"

"Now now, not so fast. Those people asked me not to share any info unless I was talking to another transformee."

Summer furrowed her brow. "You know about my condition. And stop using all this politically correct language. 'Transformee.' Just call us mutants like everyone else already."

"You know, Sasha said the same thing to me right after she got transformed. I think she'll prefer 'transformee' after today," she mused. "But so far I have yet to see irrefutable proof that you are indeed a 'mutant,' and I promised I would only tell if I was absolutely certain I was talking to one."

Summer huffed. "So what. You want to strip right here in the restaurant?"

"Obviously not. But tell me more about your transformation. It doesn't sound like it was on purpose. Do you know what caused it?"

Summer shook her head. "No. I just woke up one morning and I. . ." she looked down. "had a. . penis. I don't know why."

"Interesting. Transformations are often brought on by some sort of contaminated liquid. Do you think someone poisoned you?"

"No way. That's crazy. People love me."

"So Summer has a cock, huh?" Cynthia rested her chin on one of her hands. "Tell me about it."

Summer blushed.

"It's um. . . like an animal's." She glanced around. "Okay, how about this. I tell you one thing about myself, you tell me one thing about another student. Oh, and no telling this to anyone. Mutant or not."

Cynthia nodded. "That sounds acceptable. How about I start with a name: Marina Meyers."

"Marina? The singer? No way."

"It's true. Now. What sort of animal? Do you still have your pussy?"

She paused before answering. "I think a deer. It stays in its little pouch most of the time. And no. I lost my female bits."

"Well hey, no more periods at least, right?" That was an upside Summer hadn't considered. "Okay remember how Marina's boyfriend Jeremy died suddenly two years ago?" She nodded. "Well. What if I told you he didn't die?"

"No."

"Yup. He and Marina visited an alchemist. The two of them got merged, and now Jeremey is Marina's dick." Summer's mouth dropped open. "Now, what else has changed?"

Summer refilled her glass again. "I have fur now. All over. Just not on my face."

"That must be itchy. Jeremy kept his hair. Marina's got straight black pubes now. He really makes a magnificent cock. He's huge and thick, perfectly proportioned, big nuts. I can just barely wrap one hand around around him when he's hard. And oh man, he is insatiable and cums buckets."

Summer cringed. "You've. . . been with her?"

"Of course. She's great. Jeremey is still alive down there too. Apparently the two share some sort of psychic link. I gather that he's sort of asleep most of the time, though," she said, staring off in the distance as if imagining what it would be like. "How often do you jack off?"

Summer crossed her arms. "Oh come on."

Cynthia shrugged. "The game ends when you want it to."

She considered it for a moment, but this was some of the hottest gossip she had ever heard. And she had no reason not to believe the story about Marina. It had always been suspicious how easily she hit those low notes.

"Fine. But it has to be a different person," she said at length. "Maybe once a day or so." Cynthia raised her eyebrows and kept her mouth straight. "Okay, maybe more like three or four times a day. It just doesn't seem like there's any better way to get my boners to go away."

"Yes, I imagine it's very inconvenient." Cynthia looked up in thought for a moment. "How about I talk about Katerina? You know how she's always wearing dresses? It turns out she doesn't have any legs at all."

"No. . ."

"It's true. She has four, hefty tentacles, and she's gotten really good at walking upright with them. They're longer than legs, but she curls the tips up so that she's a normal height. You might notice that she's taller some days than others. But that's not even the craziest part."

"Well?" Summer asked impatiently.

"I don't want to hear anymore about your changes. I want to experience them."

"What do you mean?"

Summer felt something brush slowly against her skirt under the table. "Well. We have this private table and a long tablecloth. . . How about if you let me touch you with my feet, I'll keep talking. Don't worry, they're very clean."

Summer's heart was pumping. Cynthia already knew about her changes, and hearing about all these other mutants was really turning her on. Between that and the wine, she was feeling very agreeable.

"Okay. Just try to play it cool."

Cynthia scooted her chair forward a couple inches and shuffled as she kicked off her sandals below the table.

"The first time Katerina came over, she kept her dress on the entire night," Cynthia said, as she brought her foot up and gently touched Summer's knee through her skirt. She pointed her toes and began to trace a line down her leg. "It was a beautiful black satin gown. She lifted it up and I was struck by just how beautifully colored her tentacles were. They faded from a dark blushing red near her hips to a light pink at the tips.They were thick and smooth. No suckers or calluses."

Her foot reached Summer's boot, traveled a bit further, and then slipped under her skirt. Summer gasped as she felt her tiny, cold toes brush through the fur on the heel of her elongated foot. She took a deep breath.

"Then I noticed something odd about the base of her tentacles," Cynthia continued casually. "There was a sort of skirt that covered the first foot or so. It was her normal fair skin color, in contrast with the angry, deep red of the tentacles below. She sat down on the bed and I kneeled next to her to take a closer look. The skirt skin was plump and spongy. I could feel the heat coming off it." She started drawing her foot up Summer's calf, pausing to spread her dainty toes and feel the coarse fur between them. "And as I looked closer, I saw a pink scalloped bit of skin peeking out from under the larger skirt. I recognized it immediately. This 'skirt' was actually her labia! It was a huge set of pussy lips that started at her hips and rested over the base of her tentacles."

Cynthia's foot had reached Summer's inner thigh now. She spread her legs apart a bit to give her access. Her penis was sliding out of its sheath, but she had to hear the rest. "So I lifted up her pussy-lip skirt and the scent hit me immediately. Not a bad smell, mind you, but it was undeniably there. Her tentacles were spaced evenly around her opening. It was a sort of radial, star-shaped vagina. And it was huge! There was no sign of an asshole. It took up her whole underside. I watched it twitch and pucker. I imagined it was muscular enough to squeeze tightly around even a single finger."

At this point, Cynthia's foot reached Summer's underwear. She ran it along the outside, indirectly feeling the bulk of her masculinity before pinching the fabric with her toes and giving a tug. Summer lifted her butt off the seat to help her pull them down.

"Katerina told me that her tentacles were sensitive like her clit had been. Not the entire length, of course. That would have made it impossible to do anything. The main shafts were probably as sensitive as your average dick. She loved having them stroked. She even admitted to doing it in class sometimes. The tips were the most sensitive part. She would shudder if they ever accidentally brushed up against something." As she said this, her toes finally reached Summer's ballsack. She softly used the arch of her foot to stroke the fuzzy sack and feel the tortured, eager nuts inside.

"Wow, Summer. I am very impressed. I think you have the biggest balls in school."

Summer blushed intensely.

"Some compliment," she muttered. No doubt Cynthia could feel Summer's skirt shifting and sliding up her leg as her growing erection pushed it up toward the bottom of the table. "Keep talking."

"Well, at that point we started to have a good time. I was right about a single finger being enough to please her. Her muscles gripped and worked at anything inside them with such dexterity. It was almost like she was the one in control. She had her tentacles wrapped around me. One on my waist, one guiding my arm, one between my legs pulling my panties aside. . ." Cynthia rubbed against Summer's sheath and she gasped. Cynthia had a predatory sort of smile as she caressed the loose skin. She brought her other foot up under Summer's skirt and started slowly tracing it up her other leg.

"She might have been fine with one finger, but I wanted to see just how much she could take. There was no need for lube. She was producing thick, stringy natural juices of her own. I slipped my middle finger in alongside my pointer finger, then my ring finger and the pinky. I wasn't stretching her. It was the same amount of pressure, but her moaning told me just how much she appreciated it."

Cynthia's other foot reached Summer's sheath, and she held it between them. Her heels were resting gently on Summer's balls, toes pressing her skirt into her lower belly. Her pink dick was fully hard and pressed up against the table. Pre was dribbling down the shaft and onto Cynthia's feet. It was going to be visible on her skirt for sure, but she didn't care. She bit her lower lip and gripped her napkin as Cynthia softly began to slide her feet up and down the shaft.

"Soon it was my whole hand in that moist tunnel. I thought that would be enough, but she caught me off guard. Her pussy gripped my hand and pulled it deeper, up past my wrist. At that point, the tentacle at my crotch was pressing into me steadily. I felt a little inadequate compared to her, honestly." Cynthia's stroking was picking up pace, and Summer's breathing was speeding up to match it. She could feel her climax approaching quickly.

Just then the waiter arrived with their food.

"Meatballs for you, miss." He placed the plate down in front of Cynthia. She did not stop stroking Summer's dick under the table, but she gave no sign at all that anything unusual was happening. "And for you, miss, the arugula."

"Thaaank oouu-" Summer started but her voice quavered. She gasped as he placed the plate down and felt her balls draw up under the table. She bucked her hips once and ground against Cynthia's feet, desperate for more contact as she started to cum.

"Are you okay, miss?" Her eyes were clenched shut as rope after rope of cum shot from her dick and splattered against the underside of the table. Gods, it was like a torrent. She could hear it running down onto the hardwood floor. The waiter furrowed his brow and started to lean over.