Steve gulped. He was used to handling pissed-off adults, but normally it was just angry mothers bitching about what he'd done with their daughters. But he was a careful guy; all the girls he'd been with were of age, he'd made double-damn-sure of that. So why was he in the school office, and why were they threatening him? "Wh-what do you mean?" he asked, trying not to sound nervous.
"Exactly what I said," Dean Singleton responded. "You've been getting away with this kind of thing for far too long, and Ms. Fletcher here is going to help me put a stop to it."
Steve couldn't handle this creepy, threatening atmosphere anymore. He bolted for the door. Ms. Fletcher was standing in the doorway, but he could bowl her over easily enough if she didn't move.
Except that wasn't what happened. Steve ran full-force towards the willowy, thirty-something woman, but instead of knocking her over, he bounced off the space in front of her like it was a brick wall.
"Well, Mr. Farber," the dean said, as Steve picked himself up off the floor, "as you can see, Ingrid is much more than she appears to be. So there's really no point in your trying anything else. If you know what's good for you, you'll sit down and let us get this over with."
Steve wasn't about to just take whatever they were going to do to him lying down, but he wasn't eager for another run-in with this...whatever she was, either. He stood in between the two, eyes darting from one to the other like a trapped animal. "What are you doing!?" he yelled. "My sex life is none of your business! You can't do this!"
"Says the man who's caused six girls to drop out after being cast aside, not to mention Tiffany, who's going to have to juggle studenthood and motherhood," Singleton replied, icily. "The fact is, your sex life has the biggest impact on our school of any student's. And we most certainly can do this. It may not be legal, but that doesn't mean it's not right."
Steve was truly freaked out now. They were going to kill him, weren't they? He knew he couldn't get through Fletcher, but what if he went after Singleton? No good, what if Singleton had the same power? What could he do? What were they going to do?
The dean stepped toward him. "Believe me, Farber," he said, "you've had this coming for a long time. Ingrid?"
Ms. Fletcher nodded and stepped forward. She thrust a finger towards Steve and uttered random words in a strange, guttural tongue that he didn't even begin to understand. Suddenly, he couldn't move. "Wh-what are you...God, what are you doing to me!?" he shrieked.
Ms. Fletcher smiled. "Well," she said, "it should be pretty obvious that, in addition to being a computer science teacher, I'm a witch," she said. "Or, if you're not of a spiritual bent, you could say I'm a reality hacker; that's the term I prefer, myself, but people understand 'witch' a bit better. In any event, the dean here told me about you when I started here."
"Now," she said, idly leafing through a spiral-bound notebook she'd pulled out, "normally, I don't use my abilities for petty revenge, but when he told me about what you've done to the girls in the school, and about this most recent affair, well, it became pretty obvious that you were more than just the average teenage asshole. So we talked it over and came up with what we see as a suitable way to deal with you."
"Wh-what are you going to do?" Steve asked. Ingrid smiled. "Ah, now that's a good question. Me, I call it..." Another stream of alien syllables poured out, and Steve's body was instantly racked with pure brain fire, like every neuron in his body was going off at once. The world was a single giant, colorful, agonizing fireworks display, and then everything went black.
Steve came to in a standing position. He was a little dazed from the sensation, but his thoughts were mostly clear. Remembering what had happened, he gasped and looked up. Across the room was a mirror, and in the mirror...he screamed.
She screamed.
In the mirror was a small, slender girl about the same age as Steve. She was willowy but still a bit curvy, with a delicate frame, smallish-medium breasts, and long brown hair. She was wearing the same blue T-shirt and jeans Steve had been wearing, but they had changed to fit her new body. This...this couldn't be possible!
"WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME!?" she shrieked. The dean smiled. "I think you can release her now, Ingrid," he said. The teacher/witch uttered another spell, and Steve fell to her knees in shock. "What did we do to you? It's pretty obvious, isn't it? We turned you into a girl, so you wouldn't be so much trouble for us. All the exploits of your old self are now ascribed to Steve Harker, who 'just moved cross-country.' Everyone outside this room knows you as Stacy Farber now."
"Oh God, oh God," Stacy moaned. "You're going to turn me into a slut! You're going to make me pregnant! Oh God!"
Dean Singleton smiled. "Goodness no," he said. "That would far too easy on you. No, we left you as exactly the same person you've always been, mentally. That means that, among other things, you have the old Steve's hypersexual behavior, conquer-and-abandon mentality, carelessness in leaving protection up to your partners, and general lack of self-control. You're perfectly free to deal with this however you see fit; which means that anything that comes of your actions is undeniably your fault."
Stacy made a gagging sound. "You really think I'd...?"
The dean shrugged. "From what I know of you?" he said. "You might hold yourself in check for a while; you know, like you did when Amanda Clayton's mother was sniffing around for paternity-suit victims. But you don't have it in you to control yourself in the long term. Sooner or later, you'll lose the battle, and then it's only a matter of time. Eventually, you'll end up like Tiffany, and you'll have nobody to blame but yourself."
Stacy couldn't believe what she was hearing. "I'll tell my parents!" she shrieked. "I'll tell them what you did, and they'll-"
"Your parents," Ms. Fletcher interrupted, "have known their daughter Stacy for her entire life. They see nothing at all out of the ordinary about having a teenage daughter, and they know they've never had a son. If you tell them what happened today, they'll think you've gone crazy. So will anyone else you tell."
"What do I do?" Stacy asked, her voice now trembling. "What do I have to do before you'll change me back?"
The dean chuckled. "Miss Farber," he said, "this school system has being marred by your behavior since you were thirteen years old. Now we've finally got you in a position where the only person you're going to hurt is yourself. We're not trading that away for anything you could do. You're going to remain as Stacy for the rest of your life. Now come on, it's time for you to get back to class."
