Nolan Hencheck got off the bus, making a face at the surveillance camera on his way out. He had no plans to do anything bad, but he was fifteen years old, and resented surveillance. His mother had switched towns because the school board kept adding one ban after another to the dress code, and she was tired of buying new clothes when his old ones still fit and were in wearable condition. Nolan was glad; he'd heard from his old friends that the school had finally decided it was shorter (and therefore cheaper) to list what was allowed instead of what was banned. His current school was relatively sane--for an institution of a public school system out to turn kids into good little future corporate drones for the private-school kids to boss around. He walked into the building and scuffed his shoes on the tile in the shape of the name "Clint." After a stop in the bathroom to make sure there was no evidence of the prank on his shoes, he headed to the so-called "activity area" (really just a roofed enclosure with a rise in the middle that existed for the sole purpose of giving the students gathered there stairs to sit on before classes started, with a street-facing wall broken by four garage-type doors on one side, the gym and cafeteria on the second side, the office and entrance to the rest of the school on the third side and the band hall on the fourth) and gave a jaunty wave to the actual owner of the name--Clint Smith, a second-year senior who didn't even pause in showing off his biceps to whatever female happened to walk by.
Lorna Fairleigh was setting a box in four chairs on top of the rise. She opened the box and wrote FREE "BOOKS" on each of the leaves. She was sixteen years old, with a cute face, soft, brown hair, a nice butt, wonderful legs, no tits and an eye for women that matched Nolan's. She smiled as he approached. He knew she liked that he didn't hassle her about being a lesbian.
"Those don't look like your type, Lorna." he remarked as he caught a glimpse of the front-cover thumbnail on the spine of one of the books.
"Totally not," she agreed, "that's why I'm giving them away."
"And why you put 'books' in quotes." he said, and they both laughed. He opened his backpack and pulled a book out. It was an unbowdlerized history book she'd lent him, written before the state Board of Education had decided to remove "liberal influences" from the curriculum.
"You finished it already?" Lorna asked.
"My mom broke the internet, and my cousin still has my DS." Nolan responded. "Where'd you get that crap anyway?" He jerked his head in the direction of the box.
"Some obscure umpteenth cousin of mine played chicken with a Hummer in a Pontiac Sunfire, and her parents are distributing her worldly possessions as far away as possible to avoid triggering painful memories every time they run across something of hers. I got the books."
"I'm sorry." Nolan said.
"I never even heard of her before I got the books. Besides, there were some gems hidden under all the dirt. I'll show you some later. You know where and when." She gave him a smile and wink which would have indicated a sexual rendezvous if it had come from any other girl in school.
The first five classes seemed to crawl by. When they were over, Nolan went to his locker just like everyone else, but waited until they were gone to lunch before slipping into office territory. He ducked into the holding room until the principal, a hyper-conservative geezer who looked like Alfred Krupp, had left to patrol the cafeteria. He slipped through while the secretary's back was turned and quickly slipped his key into the lock of the Confiscated Property Room. He and Lorna each had a copy, a legacy from when her older sister had been an office aide, and had "borrowed" the key and had several copies made at a locksmith shop.
"What kept you?" Lorna asked, peering out at him from behind a rack of Playboys.
"Gargamel picked the wrong place to stop and re-tie his shoes." Nolan responded. Principal Gardener looked nothing like an 80s cartoon villain, but he acted like one--or an anti-joy Jihadist. He paused to reclaim a Nintendo DS cartridge that had been taken up since the last time they'd met here. He put it in his wallet behind his lunch card. "So, what else did you get besides the box of bodice-rippers?"
"Check this out..." Lorna said, pulling a wrapped parcel out of her backpack. She untied the cords that bound it, and unfolded the blue-green cloth to reveal a leather-bound tome the size of the large-print edition of the Unabridged Complete Writings of Shakespeare.
"There's a shelf-cracker if I ever saw one." Nolan said. "Not quite the size of the Book of Moriya, though."
"It's a spell book." Lorna said, mischief twinkling in her eyes. She opened it to a marked page. "Check this out!" She started to chant in a strange language that didn't sound much like Latin--it seemed to have more of an Irish flavor to it, so he thought maybe Celtic or something. Nolan felt himself getting hard. His cock kept growing beyond its usual six-inch length, until it extended twelve inches down his leg, and then it thickened.
"Oh, shit!" he grunted. His pants were uncomfortable now. His balls were increasing to match his new pecker.
"Isn't it awesome?" Lorna asked.
"You mind turning around so I can try to find a more comfortable position?" Nolan asked. She looked up, noticed his predicament, and turned around.
"Sorry about that, Nolan." she said with the same discomfort as a straight male upon seeing another man's penis. Nolan maneuvered himself until his crotch was no longer in pain, then turned the book around.
Turnabout's fair play. he thought to himself as he turned the page as quietly as he could. He found a similar spell that would work on breasts, and began to chant, glad the things were written phonetically.
"Nolan!" Lorna squeaked, then looked down at her chest as it began to swell. "Whaaaaaa!" Nolan looked up once the spell was finished. His erection had begun to recede, but now it was back with a vengeance. Lorna now sported a pair of porn-star tits that had untucked her shirt as they had expanded. The chill in the room, which had originally been a server room, had stiffened her nipples. She snatched the book back.
"Turnabout's fair play, Lorna." Nolan said--aloud that time.
"Okay, okay, turnabout's fair play." Lorna said. She flipped through the pages, searching headings until she found another spell. "Here's something ... a spell that enables the subject's body to heal and recover almost instantly."
"Are you sure about that?" Nolan asked.
"The headings are in Old English, so it's no harder to figure out than Beowulf." Lorna said. "Wanna be Wolverine without the claws and the nose?"
"I suppose." Nolan said dubiously. Lorna laughed, then sobered herself enough to read the spell.
"Well?" she asked, resettling herself to rest her back. Obviously, her chest was starting to hurt. Her pose looked sexy, taking advantage of her new assets unconsciously.
"I must be insane." he muttered, poking his hand on an edge of metal shelf. He cried out and jerked his hand back with a curse that would make Eminem blush, and what would have been a puncture became a gash.
"Ew! I got your blood in my mouth!" she exclaimed.
"It's not like I have AIDS or anything." Nolan said in a surly tone.
"Oh, look!" Lorna said. Nolan looked at his hand and saw the wound closing.
"I hope the spell protects against tetanus. I might as well jam a button that says 'I'm Retarded' into my forehead."
"I hope you don't mind I swallowed that blood." Lorna said. "Blah!" This last was said in a bad Transylvanian accent, while her fingers mimicked vampire fangs. Nolan laughed.
"Here, let me try the spell on you. Maybe it'll help with your back."
"Good thinking!" Lorna said. Nolan cast the spell, and Lorna sighed with relief. She took the book and cast a spell that would give him "great good fortune," according to the Beowulf-label. She passed it to him so he'd cast the same spell on her, but it fell and closed. Nolan picked it up and opened it at random.
"Oh!" Nolan exclaimed. The spell he saw as the pages fell open had a brief ingredients list--consisting only of a few drops of his own blood.
"Did you find it?"
"I found something." Nolan responded. He chanted the spell softly. Lorna moaned like a horny porn star, and her eyes glowed as he chanted. They faded back to normal as the spell ended. "Lorna? Are you all right?"
"Oh, my darling!" Lorna said huskily, rising to her feet and wrapping her arms around him. This pressed her mammoth mammaries into his chest and resuscitated his erection. "That's not the spell you were supposed to cast ... but I'm so happy right now I can't be angry with you!" Nolan put the book aside and kissed her. She moaned into his mouth, and moaned even louder as he fondled her breasts. "You like them?" she asked. Hormones took over. Nolan pulled her shirt off over her head, with her cooperation. There was a bra under her boobs, but it had slipped down when they'd become too big to be contained. Nolan groped Lorna's breasts and tweaked the nipples. "That feels sooooo good!" she enthused. He sucked her left nipple, and used one of his hands to play with the other one. She gasped and squirmed. He helped her down to the floor and continued what he'd been doing until she covered her mouth to stifle a scream of ecstasy.
"I didn't know girls could cum just from having their nipples sucked." Nolan said.
"Mmm, these boobies you gave me are so sensitive!" Lorna sighed. Nolan took off her soaked pants and panties, then opened his own pants and left them nearby. "Oh!"
.... There is more of this story ...