The bus pulled away, and Jen let out a defeated sob. She was doomed.
Some hours later, the doorbell rang, and then someone hammered on the door. "Jen? Jen?" Her best friend's voice sounded faintly from beyond the front door.
"Amy!" Jen called out, as loudly as she could. "In here!"
There was the sound of a key in the lock, and then Amy's footsteps came down the hall. "Thank goodness you told me where the spare key was - I got so worried about you, you never skip school without calling. Are you okay?" The plump brunette rounded the corner and her jaw dropped as she caught sight of what was left of Jen. "Oh... my... god. Jen. Are you...?" Amy turned slightly green and stuffed her fist in her mouth, but didn't look away.
Jen couldn't help it; after a whole afternoon of barely holding onto her sanity by a thread, she broke down. "Just go away, Amy, no one should see me like this," she said, tears streaming down her distorted face.
"Don't be ridiculous, Jen, I'm not leaving you," Amy said. "Come on, let's get you somewhere comfortable."
Crouching down, Amy slung an arm around Jen's back. Jen wrapped an upper tentacle over Amy's shoulders, and shakily supported herself on her lower tentacles. Together, they made it to the bathroom, where Amy drew a warm bath and helped Jen in.
The warm water was a blessed relief, taking the weight off her distended breasts and soothing her irritated flesh. She sighed softly, luxuriating in the first pleasurable feeling she'd had since this nightmare started.
"Now, how are we going to fix this?" Amy said brusquely.
"Fix it? I don't think you can fix something like this, Amy; I'm just a freak now. I'll always be a freak."
"No, you won't," Amy said. "If there's a way to make this happen, there's a way to fix it."
"How?" Jen moaned, desperately.
"Well, whoever did this to you wanted to see you humiliated, right? Reduced to something less than human, a mere object to be used for others' pleasure. Maybe... if we could make you feel good, make you feel in charge, this would all just go away."
"Yeah right," Jen said. "This isn't one of your stupid lucid dreaming classes where you can make anything happen."
"At least give it a try?" Amy pleaded.
After a pause, Jen conceded. "All right. But don't watch. This is embarrassing enough as it is."
Amy smiled, picked up a magazine from the back of the toilet, and started to read.
Satisfied that her friend wasn't watching - or maybe only half watching; Jen had known about Amy's crush on her for some time, but she trusted that they both knew now was not the time to act on it - Jen slid the tip of one tentacle between her breast-legs, gently teasing along her slit. To her surprise, the sensation was stronger than usual, different; her enlarged clit was far more sensitive than it had been before the transformation, and the soft nubbly skin of her tentacle felt foreign and familiar at the same time. She could feel her cunt, changed but still recognizable, and she could feel the flesh touching her as well, strange but still her own. Her caresses became more sure, and her first orgasm rocked through her truncated body almost before she knew it was coming.
"Try touching the breasts, too," Amy suggested from her seat on the closed toilet.
"You weren't supposed to be looking," Jen grumbled, but, feeling far from fullfilled after this one taste of the pleasure her transformed body could give her, she followed the suggestion.
She ghosted the pebbled underside of a tentacle over a nipple, and it quickly stiffened, sending a shiver of pleasure through her. "Oh," she gasped, softly, and she could hear positively hear Amy smirking. "Shut up," Jen mumbled, but continued to touch herself.
With a bit of effort and only a few clumsy splashes, Jen managed to coordinate all four tentacles so she could fondle her many breasts simultaneously. They felt odd, and stiff, as if they had grown too fast into too small a space, and Jen was sure that if she'd been touching them with her own hands she'd have been turned off immediately. But they were also far more sensitive than her own breasts usually were, and things didn't quite feel the same to the tentacles as they would have with hands. As the pleasure mounted, it was easy enough to turn off the part of her brain that screamed "wrong wrong wrong" and just lose herself in the feelings. She slipped the tip of a tentacle inside herself and pumped in and out, legs stretching and toes curling as she fucked herself. The soles of her feet collided with the far wall of the shower stall, and Jen came so hard she blacked out for a second.
When she opened her eyes again, it was to find that her breast-legs had truly disappeared, metamorphosing again into her own familiar legs and feet. Encouraged, Jen kept up her pace, triggering first one and then another healing orgasm, until spots floated in front of her eyes and she was panting for breath.
"Is it over?" she asked finally, not wanting to look at herself and see that it hadn't worked, that she was still a monster.
"You make it sound like you didn't just have the best sex of your life," Amy snarked, but she lowered her magazine and looked over at Jen. "You can open your eyes now, everything is back in its right place."
Jen opened her eyes and struggled to sit up in the tub, her slack limbs clumsy. With wonder, she turned over her two hands, which grew from the ends of her two perfectly normal arms. Her torso was back to normal, the extra sets of breasts gone without a trace; she ran her hands over her smooth skin and cupped her once-again B-cup breasts with exhilarated relief. Running her hands over her face, she found that all her features were back in their right places; her nose was no longer a clit, her teeth were back in her mouth as if they had never been gone, and she had ears, eyebrows, hair, a skull, all where she'd expect to find them. It had never felt so good to be human before.
"Er, Jen?" Amy said, interrupting her reverie.
"Yeah?"
"You, uh, didn't get rid of..."
Jen rolled over, exposing her back, from which sprouted four perfectly-formed tentacles. She blushed. "Well, yeah, they were kind of fun. Surprisingly enough." She coughed.
"I'm not judging!" Amy said. "Just thought you might want a heads-up."
"I did shrink them, though," Jen said, grinning. "Ten feet seemed a bit excessive for everyday purposes, don't you think?"
A faint blush spread across Amy's face; it was clear she was trying not to think to hard about what those everyday purposes could be. In the tub, Jen rolled back over, running a hand up her side and lingering over her breast. Sure, she'd probably be instinctively checking herself for signs of relapse for weeks to come, but right now the move was mostly for Amy's benefit. This whole attraction thing between them had gone unaddressed long enough.
Amy coughed and blushed harder, clearly trying not to stare at her friend's naked body.
"Want to help me out of the tub?" Jen asked. "I'm not sure if I can stand up without slipping yet."
Then Jen dried off, they went back into the bedroom, and had tons and tons of kinky tentacle sex, which Amy luckily turned out to be just as into as Jen was. All of the loving, self-affirming sex must have done the trick, because Jen never relapsed into a boobular freak ever again. And they lived happily ever after.