Morgan's Year, Part 1: Summoning

Sorry for the slight delay. This is the opening part of my new ongoing TF story. Contains multiple TG and TF, some more ordinary, some more bizarre, and like Morgan's last story, will look at how her victims cope with their strange changes. A smaller chapter today, but things will kick off in the next instalment in October!

Summary:

Morgan the Witch decides to summon her old high school bullies before her, years after she developed her shapeshifting magical powers. Daniel, Caitlyn, Sasha, and Pete are in for a surprise, as she twists their forms in karmic rays, ranging from the more human, to the freakishly alien. Of course, there may be a chance for one of them to return to normal again. But just one.

Next Part

Previous Stories with Morgan:

• Morgan's Night Out
• Morgan's Night Out - Three Years Later

Morgan’s Year, Part 1: Summoning

Morgan smiled. It had all been perfectly arranged. It had taken some years of practice and study in her arts, and of course the miracle of learning she was a witch in the first place, but now she was ready. The gorgeous brunette adjusted herself in the mirror one last time. It was odd, really, she actually felt a little nervous! It made her question her appearance, and how she wanted to look when she brought them here.

“Is the pointy hat too cliche? Is the purple cloak a bit much?”

She ditched the latter, and swapped it out for a tight black corset with a badass leather jacket. But that seemed a little too casual, so she changed again, choosing a dark winter coat to go over a satin purple shirt, a taste of cleavage visible where the collar dipped.

“Yes, that’s a bit more like it.”

Some dark stockings, powerful dark heels, and a flowing skirt, also dark though with a shade of purple, helped complete the look. She twirled in the mirror, examining herself.

“Much better. Sexy, fashionable, but also intimidating. Now for the makeup.”

The transformative witch applied it carefully. Black lipstick was a bit overdone, but so was red. She wasn’t out for blood tonight, but flesh. She decided on something more natural, but teased some green highlights around her eyes for that classical ‘witch’ look. Some cliches still work, after all. Finally, when her work was finished, she admired herself completely.

“I think I’m ready for them,” she said. “But are they ready for me?”

A dark smile reflected in the mirror.

“No way in hell.”

She gathered the various ingredients and placed them in the summoning circles she’d prepared upon the floor. She’d cleared her living space purely for this. The landlord wouldn’t mind; if he did, he’d have to live as a parakeet again. Into the first circle she placed a protein shake, mostly empty. She’d had to scour that one from a trash can. In the second, she placed a pair of glasses. No doubt the owner had a new pair, but it would be a strong enough connection for now. Into the third circle, she placed a blonde length of hair, part of the owner's pride. Into the fourth circle, she placed an antique gaming device. She’d been careful swiping that one.

Each of the circles glowed a dark purple as she placed the items. They were tailor made to summon the owners of the various items to this particular location. All she needed to do was incant the necessary magic, and they would arrive.

And yet still she was nervous. She was about to summon the four people who had made her life a hell through high school and early college years. The bullies, the betrayers, the name callers and rumour starters. And despite knowing that she now had a power that eclipsed anything they could throw at her combined, she still shivered a little.

Funny, the things of the past that stick with you.

“But that’s precisely why I’m doing this,” she said to herself, forcing her expression into a smirk, “to repay their unkindness a hundred fold, and make them pay. And have a little bit of experimentation with just how far I can push my magic, while I’m at it.”

Morgan moved into position, took another great breath, and began the incantation.

***

The girl moaned as Daniel thrust into her. He’d already forgotten her name, but she was one hot bitch, that was for sure. She had a wicked body, though her tits were on the small side, that was for sure. Asian chicks always had the hottest faces but the smallest tits. But at least - from his experience - they gave great blowjobs.

“Oh God, I’m so fucking close Daniel! So close!”

“That’s it, take it - uh - Tara!”

She twisted her head back, her delicate features contorted into confusion.

“I’m Janice, don’t you remember?”

“Sure I - ahahh - do!” he grunted. He thrust into her deep enough to silence her worries, causing her to spasm. She may have been close, but he could tell that he was closer. It didn’t matter so much whether she orgasmed; he just wanted to finish.

“You’re so b-big and strong . . .” she moaned.

He smirked. That he was. He was on track to be a sports legend, and he never got tired of being appreciated for his alpha male body. It gave him cause to thrust even faster, his own arousal reaching its pitch, his impressively big cock filling her up.

And then, just as he was about to orgasm, suddenly there was a bright light, a confused look from Janelle or whatever her name was, and then he was elsewhere . . .

***

Caitlyn sighed audibly as she looked over her social media feed. The beautiful dark-skinned woman with her smart fashion sense and intelligent glasses sipped a cup of wine as she perused the many followers and friends linked to her account. So many lives such tacky lives, and it repulsed her to think that just because her online influencer business was taking off, that these leeches could get a free ride. She looked over one image of a girl who had gone to high school with her.

“Ugh, fat,” she said. “Like that other cow bitch from back then. Bye bye.”

She swiped the screen, and Molly Haspen was kicked to the curb, back to mediocrity.

“Pimply and gross-looking,” she said to the next, a man desperately looking for advice on how to get a relationship with a girl he liked. He was a larger figure also, his hair a little wild. She smirked as she selected his image, copied it, placed it on her socials with the following caption:

I don’t know, maybe get a real job producing some worth for society and don’t look like such a disgusting animal?’

Several likes appeared on the screen, and she took another sip. It was okay, she knew. People liked it when she was savage. She’d found that out all the way back in school.

What was that girl’s name again? She was unimportant anyway.

Even as she made the thought, she felt a strange thrum of power around her. She stood, scared, as a bright light erupted before her, and then she was elsewhere . . .

***

Sasha posed, and the camera flashed. She arched her body in a way that would best display her plentiful breasts and taut stomach, along with her killer legs.

“Excellent work Sasha, just hold that pose, and I’ll get a few other angles.”

“Hurry up, it takes effort to look this good,” she said.

A few more snaps, and the photoshoot was done. An attendant threw Sasha a towel, and another came to her side with a throw-on jacket to cover her bikini body. She shooed them both away once they had served their purpose; she wasn’t interested in cloying followers today. Caitlyn had been a cloying follower back at college, but now she was some Insta influencer of something. Probably because she didn’t have the impressive bust and figure of Sasha. The hit model’s firm DD’s were a sensation in swimwear, and her career was on the verge of taking off. She had pushed hard to get this far, knocking out the competition with a little help from Daddy’s influences, ensuring that other pretty girls all met with financial mishap, were forced to move due to sudden scandal, or simply reduced to tears at her very presence.

After all, being the next big model didn’t just take a killer body, it also took a killer mind.

“Won’t someone hurry up and get me a fucking smoothie!” she yelled. Several attendants ran to be the first to get it. No one liked being on the other end of Sasha’s anger, and more than a few boys worshipped the ground she stood on. After all, she was young, single, and thin, and that was what mattered most.

She was about to approach one of the mesmerised security guards and enjoy a little pointless flirting just to toy with them when there was a strange humming.

Suddenly, she was blinded by a strange light, and then she was elsewhere . . .

***

“Fucking bitch! Stupid cunt!”

Pete cursed into his headset, his thin sweaty handed racing to keep control of the character on the screen.

‘Dude! Not cool!’ a voice said in his ear.

“Shut the fuck up! The only reason our team is losing is because we’ve got a goddamned girl on our team! Why don’t you go back to the kitchen and make us all a sandwich since you’re not contributing anything!”

‘You were singing my praises a moment ago, you creep. What, surprised I didn’t want to DM you and send you photos of my tits. I’m out, sicko.’

The player GamerGrrl28 signed out at a crucial moment, and Pete ground his teeth. The game was all but lost, but he still slammed the controller on the couch when the losing screen came up.

“Goddamn it. I was trying to be nice,” he mumbled. He blushed a little. As it always did, his anger and impulsiveness had overpowered his reason. It had been the same back in college, and it had cost him a lot. He sighed, and rested against the couch, streaking his fingers through his mid-length brown hair before adjusting his glasses.

“She seems so damn nice,” he muttered. “I was just trying to correct some of her game style, why didn’t she see that?”

Another sigh.

“They don’t care about you when you’re nice, and they stay away from you when you try to be the bad boy. Women just always want it both ways. Just like Morgan did. Liked me as a friend, only to ignore my every advance.”

He stood from the couch, still shaking a little with anger. Maybe some food would calm him down. Or a different game. But first, maybe a little masturbation to cool the edge. He put in his mind a body behind the voice he’d just argued with, and imagined fucking her. He was already erect and building to a weak climax when suddenly a bright light enveloped him, and then he was elsewhere . . .

***

"So I bet you're wondering why I summoned you all here."

Morgan regarded the group of five former school peers, all magically frozen in terror before her. She chuckled at her own pun; 'summoned' was right.

• Tall, muscular Daniel was naked, his penis frozen erect in anticipation of coitus that would never come.
• Lithe, dark-skinned Caitlyn peered through her glasses, her patterned pyjamas frozen mid-slip down her shoulder.
• Sasha, true to form, was wearing a skimpy slice of bikini and pulling it off devastatingly well, body frozen in mid-pose as she pressed her bountiful breasts together.
• Nerdy, skinny Pete was bent over, trousers around his ankles, and hand around his cock in mid-self-pleasured-stroke.

Morgan grinned, looking over the crowd of bullies and sycophants that followed them mindlessly. They had certainly changed in the last five years, and some of them appeared to be doing very well for themselves. Pete, on the other hand, had ended up exactly as she imagined he would, which was only just. For a moment, she paused, her next prepared words forgotten as she gazed at her former tormentors. It had been so long that in her mind they couldn’t have changed at all. Sasha had only become more beautiful, the former cheerleader even more buxom than she had been before. Her hair was longer, lush even, and Morgan recognised that she was in the making to be the next big international model. Caitlin, on the other hand, still had the staunch look of superiority and spite. She had been Sasha’s follower back then, but Morgan knew she was an influencer now, someone who tore down everyone while contributing nothing. Daniel was even more of an alpha male in appearance, and had likely been just fucking a woman, judging from his pose. Probably an Asian one; he always had disgusting stereotypes about Asian girls and their supposed ‘submissiveness’. And Pete . . .

Pete was still rakish and thin, a lanky figure with frizzy brown hair and thick glasses. The kind of figure who was not intimidating in the least, and because of that impression, harboured a nasty chip on his shoulder. His style was as black and ghoulish as ever; his obsession with strange phenomena and urban legends still present judging from the unchanged style of his dress, which reeked of being a Mulder-wannabe.

Morgan took a breath, and gazed over her tormentors. She grinned smugly as fear rose behind their eyes.

“Welcome Daniel, Caitlin, Sasha, and Pete. My old friends, though we all know you were far worse than that. /bullies and cowards, all of you. Do you remember who I am?”

She granted them back briefly the power of speech.

“Holy shit, Morgan? What’s happening?” Daniel said. His eyes fell to her impressive bust, and she grinned.

“Save us you bitch! Something’s happened!”

That was Sasha. Never the brightest bulb.

“You moron, she’s put us here. The cow has kidnapped us. My followers will be able to figure out where we are, Morgan!”

“And my Daddy!”

Pete simply remained silent, unable to meet her eyes. Appropriate. She silenced the rest with the wave of a hand.

“All the horrible things you called me five years ago - feminazi, goth bitch, cum dumpster, fat cow - I never forgot any of it. None of you knew it back then, but the whole time you were pushing me to self-harm, I was getting in touch with my magical talent. That’s right you fucking monsters, I’m a goddam witch now, and it’s time you felt the humiliation and shame of what you put me through for the rest of your lives. You each made me hate my body, and it’s taken a long time for me to grow to love it again, though as you can see, my power has made it a lot more . . . refined, than it used to be. I’m as pretty as I want to be these days. Now, it’s your turn to experience what it’s like to hate your own body and feel no control.”

Morgan looked over each member of the squad who had tormented her throughout her time in college: Dan, the college linebacker; Sasha, the spoiled cheerleader; Caitlyn, the cloying follower; Pete, the complicit geek. The traitor. She smiled.

“And trust me, every one of these changes is going to be hella karmic. Daniel, you mocked me, comparing me to those so-called ‘submissive Asian hotties who know how to please their men.’

“Caitlin, you called constant attention to my weight. I believe you were the one to start the chant that I was a ‘fat cow,’ and you constantly made fun of my tits, claiming they were ‘big milkers’ that were way too large for my body.

“Sasha, you were the cruellest of all. The year I left school? That was because of the pregnancy rumour you started. You laughed at my interests, pushed me to the ground for daring to enjoy reading science fiction and fantasy, instead of always talking about boys.

“Pete . . . Pete, you betrayed me. When I thought I could rely on you as my only friend, someone to talk about our nerdy interests with, you made a move on me. And when I rejected you, you told all these other three my deepest insecurities.

“All of you hurt and ruined me, and now, I’m going to pay you back with interest. Enjoy your new forms and lives.

She clicked her fingers, and the magic started, accompanied by gasps, screams, pleas, and the groaning sounds of shifting, transforming bodies. Each moaned and twisted, their bodies altering, some in more extreme ways than others. It was a chaos of shifting skin and altering flesh, impossible to follow. Finally, another snap of the fingers, and each form was whisked away to their intended destination; some still near, others further than they could have imagined. The last part she’d needed some help with; transportation magic, courtesy of her coven.

And then all was silent. Morgan sat back down, magic spent for the day. It left her exhausted, but fully satisfied with her work.

"I'll give them a year," she said to herself, "and then see how I feel about changing them back."

A year it would be. One year for each of the four to become immersed in their strange, new worlds and lives, and learn the humiliation she had felt on an entirely different level.

To Be Continued . . .