The Time Shifter Chapter 40

Supernatural
2012-02-12

I called my son one morning six months after Tsutomu's passing tosay that I was going to return to America and live out the remainderof my days there. I told him to give the house to his son (mygrandson) and his wife if he wanted it

I went to my Vishnu room and thanked him for continuing to allow meto have all the great experiences I had thus far. I then announcedthat I was ready to return to my life on the morning in 2011 beforemy previous transformation. I abruptly awoke in my bed and had aserious case of morning wood, so I knew that I had been restored tomy original life. I rubbed one out and then got up, took a showerand groomed myself. I had a bowl of cereal for breakfast andrepaired to my living room couch for a little contemplation. Whereshould I go now? I had already done things I had long wanted tothanks to Vishnu's intercession. As an old fucker, I was definitelyout of touch with the current generation and how they led theirlives. Because I've always been a curious guy (in both senses offthe word, perhaps),  I decided to jump into that question with bothfeet.

I went into my room and again prayed to Vishnu and then placed bothhands on the medallion and said the following: "I want to be a 14year old freshman high school girl just transferring into CarltonMelton High School on the first day of the past fall semester who isalready fully developed at 5'7" and a tanned, well toned 115 poundswith firm teardrop shaped D cup breasts, a hairless torso and legs,flawless skin, long, shapely legs, long straight blonde hair down tomy butt, a face that resembles a 20 year old Bridget Bardot thatknows how to make myself up and dress in a manner that will looksexy, who is also a virtuoso guitar and keyboard player who not onlyremembers everything I learned during previous transformations butcan correctly play any song or piece after hearing it just once anda voice that sounds like Ann Wilson's, the same sex drive I had asan 18 year old male, someone who can cook the level of the bestchefs on the planet, a beautifully furnished two story 5,000 squarefoot house with a hot tub and soundproofed music room  where I liveby myself but nobody will every question why I have no parents orother adults around to supervise me,  $100 billion US in the bankand nobody will every question where I got it, a wide ranging andsexy wardrobe, I will never be the victim of any crime, disease oraccident, I will have all the leading credit cards, including anAmerican Express black card, and my identity documents in my newname of Misty Ann Johnson, I will  never be sussed by the police foranything I do, I will be a black belt in Shotokan karate, acellphone that works anywhere in the world, , will never getpregnant no matter how much semen is ejaculated into me or on me,will never catch any sexually transmitted disease, can deep throatand take any size cock inside me comfortably, semen will tastedelicious to me and no matter how much I eat I will never gainweight nor will I physically or mentally age or deteriorate nomatter how long I live. I am ready for the transformation now. "

The very next moment I was conscious, I woke up in a strange bed ona sunny Southern California September morning in 2011. I stood upand felt the heaviness of my breasts on my body and went to thebathroom to  have a pee. When I looked in the mirror after I wasfinished on the toilet, I was stunned. "Fuck, I don't know how thosekids are going to handle someone who is this devastating," Imuttered to myself. "This is going to be one pretty interestingadventure," I happily anticipated.

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I showered, made myself up, donned a white sun dress and sandals,ate breakfast, snared a card that had a list of my classes on it andheaded off to school. Again, as with the other experiences where Ihad been turned into a teenager, I had to get over the weird feelingof being a 50 year old guy with a female youngster's body and faceon a high school campus. I knew that this time since I had nospecific target in mind, I was going to have to act bubbly andaccessible to get people to relate to me. I put on a relaxed smileas I went into my first period English class. Immediately,practically every eye in the room was ogling me, including thegirls, who were sizing up their newest competitor.

The teacher walked into the room and the moment his eyes caught mehe did a double take. I smiled at him and he caught himself andaverted his eyes so that he wouldn't be seen as staring at me. Igiggled as he attempted to concentrate on opening the notebook hebrought with him and then call the roll. We did all the first day ofschool stuff, including the teacher going over the course content. The textbook we were assigned was fucking awful, about on a levelwith your average Reader's Digest, and it was at least ten yearsold. No wonder kids can't read at grade level! I even asked theteacher if this was a remedial reading class because of it. Hedenied that it was and that if I had any complaints about thetextbook to take it up with the local school board.

During second period gym class, my teacher pulled me aside andrecommended that I try out for the cheerleading squad. I politelydeclined, stating that I was a musician and being a cheerleaderwouldn't be good for my street cred. She gave me an odd look, onewhich had my gaydar going off like an air raid siren.

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   When one ofthe other girls, who I later found out was part of the popularcrowd, asked me what Miss DeSantis wanted, I laughed that she askedme about being a cheerleader and that I had turned it down. "Oh myGod1 Why did you do that for? You totally would have made it!" sheasserted. "It's just not my bag," I dismissed. "So if you'reinterested I guess you have more of a shot," I giggled. "Gee,thanks," she snarked, apparently feeling patronized. "Sorry, Ididn't mean anything by it," I apologized. "Don't worry about it,"she smiled.

The rest of the day passed without incident and, when I got home, Iwent online and ordered a shitload of musical gear. I had a fewthings overnighted so that I could have something to play beginningWednesday. The rest of it would show up a week to ten days hence.

The next day, I put on a cropped white blouse that was tied off justunder my breasts, straight leg jeans, black flats and a white lacybra and panty set and walked to school. I was going to have to getused to not having a car for a couple of years. As I sashayedthrough the quad, I felt lots of eyes following me. I scribblednotes to myself in my notebook about what I needed to do to getsettled in to my new digs and situation as I sat on a brick planteron one side of the quad.

As my classes progressed, I found myself censoring my input duringdiscussions because I didn't want to seem intimidating to boys.

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   Thekind of lacerating analysis that I was often known for as a male inhigh school and college felt like it wouldn't go down so well as aninth grade female. I basically sat there trying to look pretty morethan anything else. This was so frustrating that I just about wantedto explode

When I returned home, there were a bunch of huge boxes on mydoorstep. I dragged the lot into my foyer and slit it open with aknife. With some effort, I managed to extract everything and thenhad to slice the boxes up so I could fit them and some of thepacking material all into my recycle bin. Then I had to haul theMarshall combo amp I bought upstairs. For any boy over the age ofabout 12, this wouldn't have been a problem. For a female with noupper body strength, it was no fun. I spent the next little whileresetting the action on the two guitars I received, one a cheaperTaylor acoustic and the other a Fender American Deluxe Strat. I putdifferent strings on them, tuned them up and I was set. I sat infront of the tv while noodling around on the Taylor and then madedinner. After i ate, I ordered tons of compact disks, a tabletcomputer and a couple different laptops. It was a pain in the asshaving to do stuff like this with each transformation, but oh well. It is what it is.

Wednesday, I took my acoustic in a gig bag to school with me so thatI would have something to pass the time with at lunch.

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   I sat up onthe aforementioned brick planter and started picking away. I noticeda lot of my fellow students watching me as I went through BobDylan's "Don't Think Twice, it's Alright. " Then I went into Heart's"Crazy on You," including the intro, and then Led Zeppelin's "Overthe Hills and Far Away. " Some smartass yelled, "Freebird!" I did"Sweet Home Alabama" instead. " From there, I performed "Mrs. Robinson," "Your Move" and "Dream On. " Someone wanted me to play aTaylor Swift track, but I just laughed. And then the bell rang. Iput the guitar back in my gig bag and set out for my fifth periodAlgebra One class. "Oh my God, Misty, you were so good," one of thegirls remarked. "Thanks sweety," I rejoindered, smiling. "I didn'tknow a lot of those songs, though," another girl remarked, somethingat which one of the boys scoffed. "You're a retard, Sandy," heproclaimed. She carried on anyway. "You should learn some KatyPerry," she advocated.

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   "Uh, no I shouldn't," I answered. "Listen toJoni Mitchell, Carole King or Laura Nyro. Katy will seem like athird grader to you after that," I insisted.
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