(Thanks so much to Gr8t S4g3 for their extensive help on this entry, and I apologize to them for my impatience and to everyone else for the length of this update)
As Jon clomped off in the direction of his next class, a trio of students were arriving on Whitelace grounds even later than he was, and these three did not possess a legitimate reason for being off grounds as he did. The three young delinquents were none other than Zoe Madison, Jon's younger sister, and her two friends, Athena DeVries and Zelda Whitefield. The three of them could most definitely be categorized as goths, and had ditched the earlier part of school to prove that they were rebelling against society enough to call themselves such.
Strangely, the three of them had shown no sign of changes that the rest of the student body was unknowingly experiencing, and neither did Zoe show any alterations so as to resemble her greatly different sibling. Despite this curious immunity, however, the three girls found nothing odd with the changes to the school, despite it not resembling its former self in any capacity.
"Do you feel that?" Athena asked, as she stepped onto Whitelace's cobbled pathway. Athena was an avid believer in the occult, but for all her awareness she only detected an inkling of the powers at work on the school grounds.
Zelda, who was a good deal more skeptical of such things, rolled her eyes. "Another magical thing? Please, you probably just felt some static electricity, what with that Victorian era dress you're wearing."
"Are you insulting my dress? You're the one wearing neon green! What kind of goth wears bright green?"
"A cybergoth, for the eighteenth time. If you were to pull your head out of those moldy old tomes and look on the internet, you'd know it was a thing."
Athena of course took umbrage at the slight towards her priceless lexicons of all things mystical, and made a remark that in return sparked Zelda's ire. They continued on with their bickering, as the three of them resumed their march down the pathway. Zoe merely watched on in amusement, as arguments between her two friends were both common and inconsequential.
A few minutes into their journey, the magic of the school began to take hold upon the trio, though not quite to the effect as to the other students. The most evident change was that all three of them began to visibly age, their bodies growing and maturing to full womanhood. By the time Zoe's progression completed, she had aged nine years to twenty three, her dyed hair reverting back to its natural brown and her skin gaining a healthier tone then the pallor she previously possessed. Her friends, on the other hand, had changed a little more extensively. Athena's skin had darkened much further than her fellows, deepening to a dark umber. Her features shifted to match her tone, her hair becoming thick and kinky, its dark coloring now completely natural. Zelda, meanwhile, had kept her pale skin, save a small beauty mark that had developed next to her left eye. Her hair had lost its dye as well, and had rapidly brightened to a honey colored blonde, the style reconfiguring itself into a flipped cut reminiscent of a 1960s housewife.
The trio no more noticed their changes than any other of the stone's victims, and neither did the former teenagers find it odd when they instinctively veered off from the direction school building down a path leading to the new dormitories. The three entered, with Zoe punching in a password they should by no means have known, and made their way to a changing room adjacent the staff lounge.
They set about changing, pulling off their ill-fitting gothic garb and washing away the heavy makeup. Zoe pulled a white uniform from a locker she instinctively knew was hers, and ducked into a changing stall to garb herself. The outfit was a white business suit with matching skirt and heels, and all in all showed off a bit of Zoe's alluring form without sacrificing formality or elegance. She returned to her locker to retrieve a cosmetic case, and began applying her makeup, now with much more subtlety and taste than she had as a fourteen year old goth. Zoe was just putting her hair in a neat bun when her vision came out of focus, becoming little more than a blur of vague shapes and colors. Making her way back to her locker, Zoe felt around the now barren storage space until she found what she was looking for, a pair of rimless glasses.
Placing the glasses on her face, Zoe turned to her colleagues, who had changed into matching outfits. "So, are you two finely ready to stop blubbering on? Our charges will be arriving in precisely two hours and six minutes, and knowing you two you both have several things to do before their arrival."
Athena and Zelda, who had continued to squabble throughout the changes, though the subject of their disagreement had shifted wildly throughout, finally settling upon whether Zelda's fiancée was cheating on her. Of course, this relationship had just sprung into existence approximately eight minutes ago, just as Charles Cross, Zelda's husband to be, along his lover, Frank, had suddenly came into being in a previously abandoned hotel room downtown, performing actions which would by most definitions constitute as cheating
At Zoe's rebuke, however, the two came to a full stop. Athena, whose uniform starkly contrasted her new skin tone, raised an amused eyebrow at her friend. "All business as usual, I see. But I suppose you're right, I have a few things to do before the kids return. And besides, I think Zelda here is perfectly content with her head in the ground."
"Oh, why must you always be ragging on my Charlie-poo?" Zelda said, in a tone so perky it would have horrified her previous self. "But you're right, Zoe, I have things to do too. Ohmigawd! I completely forgot! I'm getting a new girl today! She's brand new to Whitelace, just arrived a few days ago from Arkansas. Daughter of some oil baron I think. What was her name again? Mcmallard? Oh well, doesn't matter." Zelda was practically hopping up and down now, and she couldn't help a girlish squeal or two. "I'm so excited! I need to go make sure everything's perfect for when she shows up!" And with that Zelda raced off as fast as her heels would allow, looking as happy as the day Charles had proposed to her, or rather as happy as Zoe and Athena remembered her being in their memory of Charles' proposal.
"Where does she get all that energy?" Athena mused, staring down the hallway of Zelda's departure. "It's like she's some sort of squirrel on crack."
"Whatever its source, her exuberance also serves to give her an amazing work ethic, something you could very well learn from," Zoe commented flatly.
"You think I don't try? Girlfriend, one of my charges is some sort of juvenile criminal mastermind, and the other is sleeping around like she's getting paid for it. Zelda wouldn't last one day with my lot."
"Please, whatever Jay's misdemeanors may be, he would hardly qualify as a 'criminal mastermind', and Ms. Black's promiscuity is almost certainly not lucrative. And besides, it is amongst your duties to prevent them from getting into that sort of trouble, not use it as an excuse."
"Yeah, yeah, you're just saying that 'cuz you got the shining star of Whitelace Academy for one of yours. Anyhow, I'm gonna go stop by the mail room, my one non troublemaker ward is expecting a package from Belfast."
The two young women parted ways, and Zoe made her way up to the third floor. Passing by suite 303, Zoe spotted Zelda already attempting to hang some sort of banner for her new arrival. Ending her journey outside suite 305, Zoe pulled out a key card from her suit pocket and swiped it through the slot. Entering inside, Zoe was surprised to see a pair of maids was still there. The Chester sisters, if she wasn't mistaken.
"Oh! Sorry, Ms. Gibson, we're a bit behind schedule," the older of the two girls said. Dana, Zoe believed her name was.
"And just what might have caused this delay?" Zoe asked sharply.
"Well... there were some stains in suite 304 that were... difficult to remove," the younger maid, Agnes, explained abashedly.
Zoe groaned, rubbing the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger. "But of course. Very well, carry on. But try and finish up quickly. And next time, take Ms. Black's refuse into account beforehand."
"Yes, ma'am, thank you, ma'am," the girls said, first Dana with her sister echoing her shortly afterwards.
Luckily Zoe's room had already been cleaned before her arrival, so she was able to use her desk to take care of the various menial tasks beforehand. Scribbling away at her desk, the woman formerly known as Zoe Madison, fourteen year old goth high school student, was unrecognizable, though almost all of Whitelace's staff and students would immediately identify her as Zoe Gibson, twenty three year old personal assistant for the students of suite 305 and all around hard-ass.
Jon, meanwhile, had no idea of Zoe's transformation, though he clearly remembered Zoe Gibson, his dorm's rather uptight Personal Assistant. Currently, however, Jon's mind was on getting to his next class, as once again his compulsive changing was making him late. Jon's fifth period was physical education, which was now held in a huge gym entirely separate from the main building. Jon arrived just as most of his fellows were leaving the locker room. Nicole, who was amongst the crowd, spotted Jon immediately.
"Dis donc, Madison! Where have you been? Class is about to start!" She exclaimed. Of the student body, Nicole was one of the least changed by the effects of the wishing stone's extensive shifts to reality, and a change of social group and her parent's income were really all that were different from this morning.
"Sorry, I had to change," Jon explained quickly.
"Mon Dieu, you are such an idiot sometimes! You have to change anyway for gym, so why bother to change before class?"
Jon stopped, realizing the illogic of his actions. "I'm... not sure. I suppose it does seem rather daft, doesn't it? Well I better go change. Again." He darted into the locker rooms, changing into Whitelace's athletics uniform, a white sports bra with short gray athletic shorts, along with a pair of trainers, and rejoined the rest of the class. Jon either didn't notice or care over the pair of small lumps beginning to form under his overlarge nipples, or of the bulge that persisted on the lower half of his otherwise female form.
Returning to the larger group, Jon found he had just missed roll call "Um... excuse me, coach, but I'm afraid I missed roll."
The coach didn't even look up. "Name?" she asked bluntly, pulling out her clipboard.
"Check under the 'J' section, it should say Jones somewhere about there."
The coach looked up for her clipboard. "Oh, it's you. Sorry about that, Madison, I didn't realize it was you."
"That's right."
The coach made a small check mark next to Madison Jones. "Go on. We're doing the mile today."
Madison gave the coach a small smile before setting out for the track. There he joined the rest of the class near the start, though he didn't have time to talk to Nicole before the coach caught up and sent them running. Madison started at a rather regular pace, but as he continued around the track he felt his pace gradually accelerating. The change he didn't notice was the slow expansion of the orbs of flesh on his chest, which by the second lap were large enough to count as fully fledged, albeit small, breasts. Their expansion did not end there, however, and by the time Madison finished his final lap they had reached the size of a b cup.
"Huh, that's four minutes thirty eight seconds. Pretty nice," the coach said, jotting down Madison's time. "Take a break. The rest will take awhile."
Madison sat down and checked on the rest of the class. Unsurprisingly, most the rest still had quite a ways to go. One of his fellows, however, had managed to come close to Madison's place, finishing only twelve seconds afterwards. Biff Meadows had changed even further since the beginning of fifth period, his hair lengthening to a raven colored bob at his jawline and his skin shedding its body hair while adapting yellow undertones to match Biff's Asian features. Biff's usual hostility towards Madison seemed oddly absent, though neither of them seemed to miss it. Instead, they simply waited for the rest of the class to finish, whereupon the coach herded them back into the gym.
"Right then, today we will be completing our self defense course," the coach explained. Neither the coach nor the class questioned the fact that they had never started a self defense course. "We'll finish things up with some sparring; see how well you've learned. First one to have a knee, hip, or ass touch the mat loses. For an added challenge, we've set it up as a bit of a tournament, winners progressing to the next round and so forth. We've gone over the basic rules of sparring, you may use techniques learned outside the class if you so choose," the coach gave Madison a glance "There's thirty two of you, so it'll be divided up evenly into five rounds. I want you to line up, I'll be choosing the match ups."
On the other side of campus, Derek Lettman was just thinking to himself how much he liked sewing. Now ask Derek at any point prior to the birth of Whitelace, and he would have told you the pointlessness and stupidity of sewing and all similar pastimes, if he were to answer you at all. Now he simply adored the activity, and so was thoroughly enjoying Home Ec. The class was a new addition to Derek's schedule, but he had already forgotten whatever class had been in its place before.
His changes were hardly exclusively mental, as his body shifted more and more towards Whitelace's target demographic. His scarlet locks had grown exponentially, reaching all the way down between his knees, while his sallow features had softened, looking not only healthier but also a good deal more feminine. His chest had already started to grow puffy, though all Derek felt was a mild soreness which he easily ignored.
Derek was at the moment attempting to make a slight adjustment to the dress he was working on, though his model's squirming made it extremely difficult. "Ah, for feck's sake, Stevie, stop squirmin' raun loike an eejit!" he growled, now possessing a distinct Hibernian brogue.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Steve Farber said automatically, trying to not to cringe. "It's just, you keep using that needle and I'm afraid you're going to impale me with it!" Steve's new loss of confidence had been accompanied by corporeal changes as well, his once muscular form reduced to a far more svelte frame, his hips now possessing a width that filled out the dress Derek was making rather nicely.
"Ah come on nigh, 'tis a needle! even if oi did slip me 'an', it'd only be a wee preck. Nigh stop bein' so squeamish or oi'ill end up pokin' yer, ya ninny!"
In the adjacent room, Mike "The Moose" Matthews, the third of the three major "jocks" on school, began to feel a little queasy. Of the male population of Whitelace, Mike's changes had been some of slowest, so far only shrinking down to five and a half feet in height. Or at least, that was all the Moose had changed externally.
Suddenly Mike's stomachache intensified, and he struggled to swallow the rising bile in his throat. Just as it was beginning to fade, a pain unlike anything the Moose had felt before shot through his lower abdomen, causing the jock to fall out of his chair. The living hell lasted for a full minute, and left Mike feeling utterly exhausted. By then he had attracted the attention of the rest of the class, who turned to the Moose with looks of concern. The teacher asked Mike if he was alright, but he couldn't bring himself to reply. The teacher was making her way to his prone form when the second contraction hit. This time the Moose's body twisted and contorted through his agony, his skin becoming soft and hairless while his belly began to expand slightly. With each successive spasm, Mike changed a little more; his stomach grew ever larger and larger while his muscular form shriveled to a dainty size. His hair turned into a long platinum blonde, his skin paled, his eyes brightened to a striking grey. His body fat rearranged itself into his hips, thighs, and behind. Mike managed to say a few words between some of the convulsions, but they soon grew more incomprehensible, eventually breaking down into Russian, which coincidentally was one of the few languages no one in the room knew how to speak. By the fifth contraction someone had the good sense to call the school nurses' office, as the rest of them panicked over what they could do for him. Strangely, their distress was focused entirely upon Mike's convulsions, not paying an ounce of attention to the Moose's warping features.
A trio of nurses showed up shortly after the call was made, with Zoe Gibson following swiftly behind. The nurses quickly made their way to Mike's side, while Zoe began to question the teacher on when the contractions began and how many had occurred. Meanwhile, the Moose's unnoticed changes were progressing faster and faster. Mike's cries of pain grew in octave until they were unmistakably feminine in pitch. His hips cracked outwards into a childbearing shape. Two heavy mounds of flesh grew out of the teen's chest, his shirt stretching to compensate for Mike's new, and rather sizable, breasts. The top however was unable to keep up with his growing stomach, which had grown to massive proportions. And through the anguish Mike felt the distinct feeling that his bloated abdomen was carrying something more than just fat, or rather somethings. The final changes to occur happened below Mike's new womb and its equally novel occupants, as his genitals receded to match his, or rather her, new role as child bearer.
" and I think they started about twenty minutes ago, in all," the teacher was explaining. "I'm sorry, who are you again?"
Zoe shot the woman a glare. "I already told you, I am Zoe Gibson, the personal assistant for this girl's dorm. Now excuse me, I should go talk to her." Zoe pushed her way through the small crowd of students, to the sweat drenched and very much pregnant young woman before her. "Losya?" Zoe asked, in a much softer tone then what she usually adapted since her role change. "Losya, it's me, Zoe. Mikhaila? Mikhaila Matvei, can you hear me?"
The new young mother to be opened her eyes. "Yes," she said wearily, in a hint of a Russian accent. "I hear you. I think they are finally over now. The babies, are they "
"The babies, are fine, Ms. Matvei," one of the nurses explained, "The contractions were merely Braxon Hicks contractions, what you might call a false labor. You're still a month or so off from due, but we wanted to make sure, especially considering the complications that arise with quadruplets."
"Oh, that is good, that is very good," Mikhaila said breathlessly. "Could I ?"
"I'll see too it you're excused from the rest of classes today," Zoe said reassuringly. "Could one of you ladies help Mikhaila here to suite 305 in the dorms?" she asked the nurses, before turning back to the teacher. "I presume Ms. Matvei is excused from the rest of the lesson?"
"What? Oh yes, of course!" the woman replied. "Though if I may ask, what was that name you called her? Loisa?"
"Loysa? It's a nickname most of Mikhaila's friend call her; I believe it's Russian for an elk of some sort. Not really sure why they call her that, but she usually prefers to be called that for whatever reason. Now if you'll excuse me." Zoe exited, hurrying to catch up to Mikhaila and the nurses. Mikhaila "Losya" Matvei looked incredibly weary, but despite her episode was grinning ear to ear, excited at the thought of her impending motherhood and unaware that she had only minutes before been a rather idiotic brute of a young jock, or that she was the first of Whitelace's male students to become fully assimilated into the Academy's scheme
