28 Evolution

The only problem the whole rest of the day was Gym. I had Gym the next to last class of the day and we always dressed-out in shorts and t-shirts before participating in whatever sport or healthy activity Coach Simpson had chosen or invented for the day.

It wasn't until I opened my gym locker and pulled out my exercise togs that I remembered that I hadn't brought a new t-shirt to wear or a bra to change into. The best I could do was to pull on my old t-shirt without a bra. The effect was laughable. My old shirt was now several sizes too small for me. I could pull it on, but it compressed my breasts and made them spread out around my chest. My boobs lifted the front up so that the hem fell just below my nipples.

Fortunately, my classmates were mostly over the shock of my sudden transformation by then and were more inclined to sympathy than ridicule. Two of them offered to try to help me stretch the shirt to a better fit.

"It's not like you will ever be wearing it again," Marcie said. She and Jena took it to a sink and soaked it. Then they pulled it and twisted it and stretched it out in front as much as they could without ripping it to rags. When they finished, it was still way too tight, but at least I could get it on. The wet t-shirt had one unfortunate side effect — it clung to me like paint and you could see not only my nipples poking under it, but my puffy areola as well. The cold water did not help matters either.

It was the best that could be done, though. Coach came over to me as soon as she saw the problem and I assured her that I would be better dressed by the next day.

The rest of the period was a joke. No one could do anything for staring at my chest, and anything I tried to do brought the class to a standstill. It was a good thing that boys were not allowed in the same area.

I was very relieved when Gym was over and we hit the showers. Unfortunately, being in a room full of naked girls was not the equalizing factor I expected it to be. No one wanted to shower next to me because it would mean a side-by-side comparison of figures. It turned into another show, with me on one side of the showers trying to get clean and everyone else on the other side, dropping the shampoo and trying not to get caught watching.

I refused to let it get to me. I was going to be like this the rest of my life and I had to get used to peoples' reactions. There was no place to hide in the open shower room and I wouldn't have if I could, so I relaxed and let them watch. I deliberately faced the room instead of the wall and tried to ignore the stares. I soaped slowly and let the suds slide down my body. I let my hands linger on my body just short of a caress. I avoided anything overtly sexual or provocative, but I let everyone look as much as they wanted. In the process I got much cleaner than normal.

Despite my resolve not to let this get sexual, I was amazed at how turned-on I got with everyone watching. My nipples were hard as gems and I would have been soaked below the waist even without the shower running over me. I started out avoiding eye contact, but my curiosity got the better of me and I began looking at the other girls to see their reactions.

Some tried to hide it, but when she's naked, a girl can't hide the reaction of her erectile tissue any more than a boy can. Basically, mine were not the only stiff nipples in that shower room.

When I looked them in the eye, some girls looked away. But some just looked at me like they were in full rut. The look on their faces was so obvious that I thought I might be raped any second. Bambi was right again about my effect on the female of the species. Girls were more attracted to me than boys. At least they were more willing to be seen to be attracted. Since boys seemed to be avoiding me, I couldn't gage their reaction yet.

Even though I dawdled through my shower; I was still the first one out and the first one to be dressed. I think I was also the only one to make it to her next class before the bell.

It was during my last class that I discovered the true value of the steel balls I carried in my pussy. I had got so turned on by being the star of the show in the shower that I was very wet. The lubrication made the balls slide around in there and bang into each other with little clicks that I could faintly hear, but mostly feel through my clit.

My juice also made it harder to hang onto the balls. When I walked, they kept trying to escape and I had to really clamp down to keep them from falling out. All that vibration and motion and muscle action made me so horny that I sat right there in Miss Albert's English class and had two orgasms, one after another. If we hadn't been having a video of a Shakespeare play that day, I would have been so busted. As it was, I could hide the look on my face and stifle my moans in the darkened room without attracting attention. I think the girl in the desk behind me could tell what was happening, because after class she made some comment about Shakespeare having a strong effect on his audiences. I was so addled with afterglow that I could not think of a single good comeback to that.

After school, Alex, Jim, and Bud were waiting for me.

After a couple of blocks, I felt better. I even remembered to ask Jim and Bud why it seemed that the other boys had been avoiding me when I expected just the opposite.

They looked back and forth at each other before Jim answered.

"I think it's that you are so gorgeous that they are afraid to try to talk to you. I mean, you are so far out of everyone's league that it just isn't funny, you know."

"Cool."

Had I changed that much? I had figured that it was just my new breasts that made me different, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that I had changed in just about every way it was possible to change.

Physically? That was the obvious part. Mirrors had become an essential part of my life. Without them I simply could not see the lower two-thirds of my body. Yes, they are that big.

Mentally? Certainly. And not just the powers that I was still learning about. I had goals and responsibilities that I had never even dreamed of having before. I had done things that I had only seen in the movies or read about in fantasy novels.

Sexually? Last week I was a virgin. Since then I had made love to members of both sexes. The girls were great. Bud was fantastic. If that wasn't a profound change, I didn't know what would be.

Emotionally? I felt like I had grown more emotionally than any other way. The things I thought were important to me before seemed absurdly trivial now.

I was a new person all the way through. I was so relaxed around other people that I was making a new friend every day. More than one a day, if I counted Sheriff Bob. I decided not to count him as a friend yet, though. He was a business associate. To him, I was a politically-convenient resource he could call on to pull his ass out of hot water. Already, if not for me he would probably be bound and gagged in the trunk of his own car, wondering if his SWAT team would shoot him or his wife while trying to bag his kidnapper. I did have that advantage in our relationship; someone who called themselves his friend might promise to come to his aide when he needed them. I had already come to his rescue in the dark of night without even knowing who he was. He said he always paid his debts; and that one would be accruing interest for a while.

The main difference was that I wasn't the slightest bit scared of people any more. Knowing that you can't really be hurt has a way of liberating you.

Suddenly, something really scary did occur to me; something that explained why I was having all these strange thoughts. I understood for the first time that one of my mental powers was increased intelligence. I was actually getting smarter.

My classes today had seemed effortless, almost boring. I thought back and remembered that they had been getting easier for a week or so. I had attributed it to my enforced study regimen, but as I mentally reviewed my homework sessions, I remembered each chapter of each book, each exercise and each math problem I had done. I found I could recall each conversation I had had with every person almost as if I had a video machine in my head. My memory for the last week or so was nearly photographic. Although that term was probably misleading. The mechanism of memory was more likely to be holographic in principle than... STOP THAT! "Jeez, Louise," I thought, "Was this what it meant to be smart? To drown in digression? To endlessly overanalyse every thought? And wasn't I doing it again?" "GAAAAAAA!"

I hadn't been aware of saying that last bit aloud until Bud said, "Are you all right, Sarah?"

"No! I mean, yes. Oh hell. Get me home before my brain melts and runs out my ears. I'm having an argument with myself and I'm coming out on the losing end."

Any minute now I might be emailing Stephen Hawking to debate his position on the nature of spacetime.

"God!" I thought. "How do you turn it OFF!"

I looked at Alex with desperation in my eyes. She said, "Your brain sounds like an engine racing with the transmission in neutral. You need a problem to apply all that intelligence to. I mean 'to which you can apply all that intelligence'. Shoot! I'm absorbing it from you. Being in your head is gonna make me smarter too. 'Intellect by association' — what an idea! You need to remember that your brain can be a lethal weapon, too. Don't point it at yourself.

"OK, your choice is either work on a problem or stop thinking. You were asking why boys weren't all over you today. Did you think about that before?"

"Yes. I decided to table the subject until I could conduct field interviews and collect some hard data."

"You mean talk to these bozos? You think they are a representative sample?"

"No, but they are the only boys who could be motivated to tell me the truth."

"Very well. Why not continue the research?"

"An excellent suggestion, Doctor Morgan." The research subjects were looking pretty lost by now. They knew we were talking about them, but they weren't too sure if they would like being research subjects.

"As I was saying before I got distracted, why am I 'out of their league'? Jim?"