“You have selected Another Girl’s Shoes,” said the machine. “Hope you like oranges.”
“What?”
Suddenly the room flooded with light. Andrew frowned. “What the hell kind of game is this? This is just a locker room!”
The scummy green tile, the rusted lockers, the leaking shower: it was just like Andrew’s school locker room except for one thing. “What’s that smell?”
“Oh my god, you guys, that was like, a great practice!”
“Oh my god, Gail, you are so right!”
Suddenly it hit him. “This room smells nice. It’s the girls’—“
The door burst open and two dozen cheerleaders poured into the room. They were giggling and complimenting each other on their splits and high kicks, brushing their sweaty hair out of each other’s faces and flashing their pearly white teeth. Then they stopped…cold.
Andrew blinked. “Hi.”
The next moment he was pinned to a bench, three cheerleaders on each limb.
“Wowee!” the captain hooted, her perky boobs sticking out above Andrew’s face. “Another pervert? Gosh, this is like, the best week ever, right?”
“Spray!” the girls chanted. “Spray, spray, spray…”
“Not sure if I like this simulation,” Andrew thought. Then the Captain pulled a glass bottle out of her skirt. Andrew squinted. “Let’s see how this plays out…”
The perfume the Captain sprayed on Andrew smelled like oranges, like the sharp, sweet scent of a fresh orange that drifts through the room when the rind is torn open. A mist of oils spreads through the air and tickles the nostrils and makes one think of summer in the depths of winter. Unlike an orange, however, it stung like a dozen bees stuck under his eyelids.
When it stopped stinging, however, that’s when Andrew noticed his nipples sticking out from underneath his hoodie. It sounded like cloth stretching, his nipples poking further and further out from his chest, pushed out into the open by two swelling mounds of flesh. “Shit!”
“Look at ‘em jiggle!”
“Come on, big boy, let’s see ya shake them titties.”
“No!” Andrew squealed. He covered his mouth. Blushing, he stammered in his squeaky little voice, “What did you do to me?”
“Nice ass, girl.”
Andrew wheeled around and slapped a hand away, but now the cheerleaders loomed over him. Every part of him was getting smaller, except his ass and his boobs. The latter were E-cups, perfectly outlined under his t-shirt. His sweatshirt sleeves drooped over his hands. Andrew backed into the corner, trapped like a mouse. A plea escaped his pouty red lips as the last of his penis withered away. “Don’t hurt me…please.”
“Well gosh, honey, we won’t like, hurt you,” said the Captain, eyeing Andrew’s boobs. “I got a way, way cooler idea than that.”