Girlfriend with Testing Device Ch. 14

Warning, this chapter includes new protagonists, old protagonists, strap-on dildoes, sex dungeons, boobs, tits, jiggling, clothing that is as bad or worse than strap-on dildos, dancing, beer pong, stripping, cute boys making out, cute girls making out, clothing, progressive feminization, social feminization, crowds, cheering, parties, drinking, sheer and utter insanity, formal sex, authority swaps, gender swaps, body swaps, position swaps, swaps of all kinds, cat fighting, and a sense of grim foreboding for what is going to happen to our typical couple in the next chapter.

Girlfriend with Testing Device

- A Smutty Fanfiction, of Sorts -

= Part 14 -- Party Till You Drop =

By Razmagurk

"I'm wearing a what?"

"A sex toy." he said again, pointing down at the slinky little dress I was wearing.

"What? How is this..." I blushed. "This isn't a... a... its not like that!"

"Alright, alright," he laughed. "No need to get so defensive. I suppose you could technically use it for other things, but hey, what else is a guy supposed to think?"

Blood was pounded through my head so loudly that I could hardly hear. I thought back to all the stares and leers and gestures that had been directed my way. I thought they'd be en complementary. I thought I'd looked good. And this whole time I was making a complete fool of myself.

How had I been so stupid? Of course they thought I was wearing a sex toy. They didn't care that I'd traded clothes with Becky. The same stupid magic that made it so no one noticed anything wrong also made it so no one noticed anything right either. Oh my god, this was my reputation in shambles. I was never going to live this down.

"I... I need a drink." I held out an arm to steady myself against the wall.

"Like I said," Sam smiled, "I think you've had enough."

"I haven't even been drinking tonight!" I protested.

"You're just wearing that to make a statement?" He raised an eyebrow.

I didn't know I was capable of blushing any harder than I already was, but I think I somehow managed it.

"Fine... look, just... give me some water or something okay? Anything."

"Oh!" he said, reaching behind the tower of beer cases and grabbing a bottle of water. "That I can do." With a flourish he cracked it open and handed it to me, the motion sending his tits bouncing beneath his letterman jacket.

The water was only room temperature, but it did the trick. I could feel myself cooling down. My heart was deciding it didn't need to play the kettle drum in my ears anymore. I didn't realize how much I'd needed that. Just goes to show, I guess, never underestimate good hydration.

I let out a long sigh and looked down at my dress, then back up at Sam, who - gentleman that he was - was very deliberately not staring at it. Fuck. What on earth had I gotten myself into? I had to ditch this stupid thing. I had to find something else to wear. Anything else. But how the hell was I going to do that without anyone seeing me in the meantime? What was I going to do? Strip naked? Not much better.

Okay, the box got me into this mess. Maybe it could get me out. I just needed to trade clothes with someone else, right? Sam was the obvious choice. We were about the same size, though I think his boobs were probably bigger than mine. I could probably get away with wearing a guy's clothes, too. Besides, Sam wouldn't even notice the slinky little dress. In fact he'd probably look really cute in it. I let a mischievous grin cross my face. There was nothing wrong with boys in skirts, especially when they have an ass like that.

But no, that wouldn't work would it? The problem wasn't trading clothes, the problem was people being oblivious about it. Damnit, what good was a box that could trade things around if everyone kept acting like you hadn't used it at all? Did this thing have any purpose apart from voyeurism? Granted, that was the only thing I'd really been using it for so far, but still.

Okay, so I couldn't trade clothes around. But on the other hand, it wasn't really the dress itself that was a problem, was it? It was the fact that everyone seemed to think it was inappropriate. Not the item itself, but a quality of the item. Could I trade that away? Did this thing work on objects? Shit, that was a whole can of worms. What would happen if I traded something between a person and an inanimate object?

I looked over at Sam and pictured him as a syrup bottle.

Maybe it was best to leave well enough alone.

But still, there was some virtue to that line of thought. It was people that were reacting to it. Maybe I could just trade the way people were reacting?

I looked down at the box then back up at Sam. I smiled weakly. Poor Sam. He was such a sweetheart, he really was. I would really need to make this up to him later somehow.

Zzzzttttt!

He had been half way through taking a swig of his beer when the box went off. He almost dropped the thing as he recoiled from the sight of me, his eyes wide with panic.

"Emma!" he yelled, his arms shooting to his chest and crotch, desperately trying to cover up as much of his letterman's jacket and jeans as he could. "It's not what it looks like!"

"Why?" I asked, a wry smile working its way across my lips. "What does it look like?" Fuck, Sam was super cute when he was all embarrassed like that. He'd gone all squirmy and the way he was clutching at his loose clothing drew attention to just how amazing of a body he had, with his wide masculine hips and sexy bubble butt. His chest was jiggling all over the place under that jacket too, he must have been ripped.

Was he a sub, I wondered? The mental image of him squirming like that as I impaled him with my dick was too tasty to ignore. I could feel my skirt tenting at the thought.

"I was just..." he looked down at his clothes and blushed further. "I don't... uh..." He chuckled nervously. Look, it's not what it looks like. This was all just a... I... I don't know what I was thinking. Oh god. This has gotten completely out of hand."

"Alright, alright," I grinned, turning his own words against him. "No need to get so defensive." I gave him a wink. "But hey, what else is a girl supposed to think?"

His eyes darted around the room, desperate for escape. He was starting to look like a caged animal.

"Are... are you okay?" I frowned a little. I hadn't meant to cause him so much distress.

"Are you kidding? Look at me! Or, no. Don't look at me." there was an edge of desperation in his voice. "I've been wearing this all night!" He was pacing back and forth now. "What the hell was I thinking? Look, you have to realize, I don't normally wear stuff like this. This... this isn't me."

"Sam," I gave him a reassuring little smile. "I believe you. Trust me, I do. I've seen you at, like, a million other parties."

He seemed to relax a little at this.

"Besides, what even is so wrong about it?" I said, half curious and half trying to push my luck. "It's not so bad."

"Easy for you to say." He gave me a cute little scowl. "I mean, look at you. You've got a sex toy on like a nice normal person, and I'm wearing..." he gestured down with his eyes. "this."

I laughed. He blushed further.

"Oh god, why did I decide to wear this? I have to get out of here before anyone else sees me. I need to hide."

"Well," I grinned, "I know of a closet that's surprisingly spacious."

"I was thinking more like the basement."

"Basement? I didn't even know this house had a basement."

"Yeah." He pointed to a small closed door on his end of the kitchen. Or, well, he tried to at least. It was difficult for him to do while still trying to cover his shame. "It's a bit of a secret. They like to keep people out during parties and stuff."

"So, what?" I raised an eyebrow. "You're just going to hide down there until everyone goes home and then you're going to try to sneak out?"

"Yes?"

"You know people are going to wind up crashing here overnight, right? This place isn't clearing out until they start looking for volunteers to help clean up in the morning."

"That's... that's fine."

"So you're willing to do the walk of shame after everybody else has already left, across campus on a Monday morning, after everyone else has already left."

"Y-yes?"

"Wearing that?"

"Look," he stomped his foot, "I don't exactly have much in the way of options here! I've just... I've got to hide before anyone else can see me, okay? I'll figure out the rest later."

Sam walked over to the little door and hesitated for a moment before lifting a trembling hand from his crotch to try the handle. It wouldn't budge.

"Wait, you're okay with me seeing you but not others?"

"Well," he shrugged weakly. "I mean, we have a bit of history, right?" He tried the door again, a little more forcibly, but it was no good.

"Do we?"

"Sure. We're friends, right?" He slammed into the door with his slender masculine shoulder.

"I- I guess?" I didn't normally see Sam outside of parties. Granted, we did go to a lot of the same parties. Still, I'd always kind of assumed he was just really friendly with everybody. With the way he kept rebuffing my advances I figured he wasn't interested in getting to know me better. Honestly, I've never really considered myself friends with anybody I hadn't been fucking.

"Look, here." he said "Give me a hand with this okay? I was hoping I could force the door or something, but I can't seem to get it to budge."

I walked over and gave the door a quick inspection, then gave the handle a pull. It swung right open.

Sam was at a loss for words. I'd say he was embarrassed, but at this point I don't know if he could get any more embarrassed than he already was.

"Thank you." he squeaked.

I laughed. "Any time."

He blushed again then bolted down the stairs, his high heels clicking on the old wood.

I followed just far enough to stand at the top of the stairs. I couldn't do it. This... this wasn't right.

I felt bad. Sam was... well, he was nice, and he was a good guy, and he was cute, and apparently, we were friends, and as amusing as it was to see him act this way it was just... I couldn't help but feel a little guilty about it. I couldn't leave him like this.

"Hey Sam!" I yelled down. "I'm going to go get you something to change into, okay?"

"Oh my god!" he cried.

"What?"

"It's... it's nothing. What did you say?"

"I said I'm going to get you something to change into! "Just... stay tight. I'll be back soon."

"O-okay. I'll um. I'll be down here." he sounded unsure. "Hey Emma?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

I laughed. It was the least I could do, right? After all, I was the one who had gotten him into this mess to begin with.

I looked around the kitchen and sighed. Where the hell was I going to get another set of clothes? I mean, upstairs was still an option, of course, but it was risky. I still hadn't seen that girl come down. Then again, I'd hardly been keeping the best of watch. That was a mistake. What if she was down here somewhere, lurking in the crowd? Hell, for all I knew she could look like anyone from now. Would I even notice?

I didn't want to risk anything.

Maybe I could trade my clothes with someone in more layers, then shed a few before trading back? Uhg, fuck, no. For all I knew they'd still see me as having taken off a bunch of layers and act like I was like, super-naked or something. Gah, this stupid box was more trouble than it was worth!

My train of thought came to a screeching halt as my eyes locked on a scrumptious pair of breasts springing free of their top. I did a double take. Sure enough, there, through the window overlooking the kitchen sink, was a girl putting her tits on display for all the world to see.

I took a step closer. Someone had a beer pong table set up out on the back lawn and a game of strip-beer-pong was well underway. A pair of guys were high-fiving as the girls opposite them finished taking off their tight little shirts, exposing their lacy bras and the heaving boobs contained within.

Oh my god. Have you ever had a moment where a plan springs into your mind fully formed, and at the time it seems like the best idea in the world, but then later you think about it and you realize it was kind of a shitty idea? That's what was going through my head. Strip-beer-pong. How perfect. If I could get someone else to take off their clothes for me, then I wouldn't have to worry about the ramifications of using the box on myself.

I strode for the door, working my way through the dance floor at the rear exit. I was getting a lot less attention now that I wasn't wearing something quite so inappropriate. It was weirdly disappointing? Like, I know it was bad attention, but I can't help it if I love to be the center of the crowd. Still, I'd rather people just think I'm hot rather than think I'm one of those girls that takes things way too far, so I'm glad to have just been normal again.

The backyard was a hectic scene. Half the place was dancing and thrumping and humping and the other half was a motley cavalcade of random party games and social groups. There was a trio of kiddie pools that looked especially popular. One was full of lube, one jello and one whipped cream. I was a little impressed, and not just by the bikini-clad girls playfully wrestling in them. Do you know how difficult it is to fill a kiddie pool with whipped cream? To say nothing of lube. That stuff can be expensive.

I took a deep breath of the cool night air. The temperature had begun to drop. It would have been chilly if weren't for the heat of so many bodies. Metaphor for life right there.

I worked my way over to the beer pong table. It looked like a classic match of guys vs girls, but there were a few twists. First, each pair of girls was wearing some kind of ridiculously sexy outfit, costume or uniform, and second, now that I got a closer look, it was pretty apparent that none of them had any intention of losing. This was a honeypot if ever I saw it. These girls were pro.

So, I don't know how familiar you are with the way our school operates, but we have a very strong and very female dominated sports program, and our varsity beer-pong team is no exception. Sure, some would say that wearing a skimpy little uniform and jiggling your tits right in your opponent's field of view as they try to aim is poor sportsmanship, but so is the way the guys they face off against are always leering at them. Besides, it's all in good fun.

Of the four sets of girls, it looked like only one or two of them had lost any clothes, and there were a lot of half-naked guys hanging around who must have bailed before going all the way. I smiled. That was the real game: these girls were here to see some skin.

A new pair of dudes was stepping up to the challenge as I managed to squeeze my way through the crowd close enough to get a good view. They were brothers by the looks of them. They were pretty cute -- kinda low-key ripped -- and they held themselves really well. One of them looked a little bashful. He had longer hair and stood a bit taller, so I assumed he was the older one. He looked to be less into it than his brother, who was clearly the driving force here.

I wondered if they would be interested in a threesome? Mmm, I could bend over and fuck whoever had the smaller dick while the other gave it to me from behind. Or maybe one of them would be interested in playing center stage to a spit-roast? Eh, probably not. Why did guys always have to get so weird about threeways involving another dude.

The girls they were playing off against were a blond and a brunette in matching little catholic schoolgirl uniforms. Or, well, they were closer to fetish costumes than actual uniforms, but it got the idea across. Tight little white tops with cleavage that just barely revealed the edges of their bras, and pleated tartan miniskirts so short the eye was constantly drawn to them just in case you could catch a glimpse of what lay beneath. And damned if the girls didn't make it look so good too. I wish I'd known girls like that back in catholic school. Woof.

So yeah, long story short, these guys had no chance of winning. Which was good, because it meant that they were soon going to be losing their clothes, but more than a little problematic in that neither of them were anywhere near Sam's size. What could I do? Even if I used the box to adjust their height and stuff, their clothes would still stay the same.

It was funny, the girls were probably closer to Sam's size than they were.

I grinned at the image of Sam wearing that outfit. The heaving masculinity of his breasts spilling out of the tightly cinched top as the pleated little skirt exposed his long silky legs and juicy boy-butt. Damn, okay. He'd look a little ridiculous, but I couldn't deny that it had a perverse appeal.

Okay, okay. New plan. I needed to get him in that uniform.

There was no way I'd be able to get him to wear that sort of thing willingly, of course, but it would be all too easy to trick him into it. I laughed. Okay, maybe it was a little mean of me, but it's not like anyone would notice, right? It would just be a nice sexy little bonus for my eyes only.

Plan in mind, I settled into the crowd to watch the match. Sure, I could do this all in just a few quick trades, but I wanted to have a little bit of fun while I waited. In fact, I decided to up the ante just a little.

Here are my rules for trade-and-strip beer pong. It's basically the same as regular strip beer pong - Each cup corresponds to an article of clothing. When the ball lands in that cup, you can take that article of clothing off to 'save' the cup - but with one big exception. Whenever you land the ball, you also win that body part as well. Simple, right? So if one of the guys lands it in a cup corresponding to a girls bra, he ends up with her tits. If she then gets him to take off his undershirt, she wins them back.

Okay so it's not a very profitable game, and there could theoretically be a lot of back and forth, but it was sure as hell going to be fun to watch.

I guess the beer-pong-team girls had been getting impatient, because this turned out to be a speed match. That's where you drink and strip at the same time rather than waiting for another ball to land. It put a greater focus on the stripping and less on skill, since bounce shots aren't worth anything extra, but hey, it was helping them get through their long list of competitors, so I guess it worked out in the end.

The match didn't get off to a good start. By the time the boys even rolled up it looked liked they'd somehow lost their shoes. Was this not their first match?

The two of them were quite a bit bigger and brawnier than the two girls opposite them, but that didn't seem to worry the girls one bit. By the looks of it, they were plenty used to going up again these sorts of opponents.

Sure enough, the younger guy was too busy catching glances at his opponent's exposed cleavage to line up a good shot. To be fair to him, the way she was bouncing on her toes was making her exposed cleavage bounce and jiggle in a way that was very hard to ignore. His shot went wide as it failed to land on the table entirely.

The older one proved to be a little more gentlemanly, but he didn't seem to have the confidence in his abilities that his brother had. His ball bounced harmlessly off the end of the table.

The two girls smirked as they went into a huddle to discuss their next move. As amusing as this was, the box felt heavy in my hands. I just couldn't help but look around and wonder what other fun I could have.

Out here, the vignettes here were flying fast and loose. Lots of people I didn't recognize. Snippets of other lives. Strangers. This was a perfect opportunity to test out what this box could do. I just had to find the right targets.