1 comments/ 18590 views/ 9 favorites The Strange Shop of Stuff Ch. 01 By: LateNightStories The news that Allison had become engaged hit me harder than I thought it would. Perhaps I loved her even then. At least, my feelings for her had been stronger than I had first assumed. It was surely surprising, as I was at the time hardly aware that she was dating this guy, Ben. What was it attracted me to her? I think a lot of it came down to the fact that she was not gay. This made her unattainable. A dream that I could fantasise about, but never have. It also meant that she didn't have the relaxed attitude to sex that a lot of gay people have. For the lesbians that frequent the gay bars, sex can become quite a trivial little thing. Allison, on the other hand, was like a giddy little princess who had finally found her prince. I wanted to be as special to someone as Ben was to her. After having been disposed of by all my past lovers, I yearned for my own fairy tale ending. It would be unfair to call Allie a homophobe. Coming out to her had not affected the strength of our friendship. Still, she was obviously uncomfortable with the idea that I might find her attractive. An unspoken no-nudity policy was established in the tiny apartment that we shared. We would always lock the door to the bathroom while showering or shaving. I'll start my story the day it all changed. Allison and I were out shopping. I had begun to treasure the time I got to spend with her, because I did not know how things would be once she had tied the knot. Would there be children? Would there be time left for old friends? I remember how Allison had struggled with getting into this very pretty dress that I had picked out for her. Instead of asking me to come inside the stall to help her, she asked me to go and get the clerk. I was, as you may imagine, quite hurt by the realisation that she was more comfortable with a stranger than with me. Allison did not buy the dress. I think it might have been because she wanted to change her style in order to look more like a proper grown up rather than a college student. We are both quite geeky. Or rather, Allison is what you would call quirky. I, on the other hand, is a total geek. I used to have a poster of Xena over my bed, the theme to Neverending Story is my ringtone and Jareth from Labyrinth is the only man I've ever fancied. This shared fascination for strange things have always helped us bond. I was therefore happy when Allison suggested we check out a new shop called the Strange Shop of Stuff. A shop that sold weird stuff spoke to both our sensibilities. Our apartment was already stacked with oddities. Ben had yet to visit the home of his future bride, and I strongly suspect it to have been because Allison was afraid that he would disapprove of her indulging in her childish infatuations. The shop could be summed up in one word: amazing. There were none of the usual pop culture kitsch. Instead, the shelves were stacked with weird and interesting oddities that neither of us could remember having seen anywhere else. Allison picked up something from a shelf and studied it curiously. It was a lantern. Through some strange illusion, there appeared to be a tiny woman inside wearing a green dress. Allison looked at it from different sides, trying to figure out how it worked. In retrospect, I'm not sure if it was an illusion at all. I won't rule out the possibility that there really was a woman in there. "Do you think Ben will let you keep your lava lamp and Betty Boop figurine when you move in together?" I asked her. "I'm sure we'll reach a compromise," she said, while tapping the glass of the lantern with her finger, making the little woman inside draw away. We probably spent more than an hour just browsing. I'm unable to remember most of the strange and wondrous things that we saw. The visit to the shop almost feels sort of dreamlike in retrospect and the events that followed have overshadowed and blurred my memory of it. The only thing I clearly remember is that at one point I lost track of Allison and was unable to find her again. I walked around the shelves, calling her name, but she was nowhere to be seen. In the end, I picked up my phone. That's when I felt a hand on my shoulder. "Boo," Allison said with a gleeful smile. "That's not funny," I said. "This place is giving me the creeps." Allison was obviously amused. "This place? You're perfectly fine with walking back to our apartment at night, but this place gives you the creeps?" "We live in a safe neighbourhood," I retorted, "and you must admit that this place is strange. There is some fucked up shit in here." We left the shop together. Allison couldn't get over the fact that I had been a little spooked. People usually saw me as a tough girl, and they were partly right. On the other hand, I've always had a certain sensitivity. You know how dogs in the movies always bark when they smell evil people? I'm a little like that. Perhaps it's some sort of latent psychic abilities. Graveyards or houses that people have died in freak me out. My mum offered my grandfather's house to Allison and me, but I turned her down. I can't explain exactly why, but I think it might have been I had a feeling he wasn't completely gone. Once our shopping spree was over, we had ourselves a little picnic in the park. Allison started quizzing me about my love life. I found this very strange. She had never shown any interest in it before. If I didn't come home at night, she wouldn't ask me where I had been and if she found me eating breakfast with a strange girl, she'd never ask me about her later. As she now spoke, I pondered at what could have caused this sudden interest. Suddenly it struck me. She was trying to pawn me off. If I got myself a steady girlfriend, it would make it easier for her to cut contact with me once she and Ben were married and had started producing babies. Maybe I shouldn't be too hard on her. Ever since I heard about the betrothal, I had been bugging her about the importance of friendship. It had probably started to wear on her. We were obviously not compatible enough for our close relationship to last indefinitely. "I bought you something, Abby" Allison said, bringing me back to the moment. She held up a tiny bottle. There was a picture of a human heart on the front. "What is it?" I asked. My voice was a little choked. "It's a love potion," Allison said. "The man in the shop said that it would help you to truly fall in love the next time you meet a nice girl." I took the potion. "What man? There was nobody else in there." "The clerk. Maybe you didn't see him. You were too busy running around the shelves, calling for me." I uncorked the bottle and sniffed. It produced a sweet aroma. Immediately, I felt light headed. "Is this some kind of drug?" I asked. "It smells intense." "It's just a bit of fun, silly," Allison said, not knowing how wrong she was, "but I'm still quite serious when I say it might be good for you to have a proper relationship." I was going to take only a tiny sip, but ended up swallowing most of it. It tasted incredible, like sweet ambrosia. I felt it run down my throat, before spreading through my body, following my bloodstream on its way back to my heart. My vision blurred. I was blind. My sense of balance was gone. I had no idea if I was sitting, stranding or laying down. All I felt was the loud drumming of my heart and the rushing of my blood. It took a few seconds for me to regain full control of my faculties. The white silhouette of Allison's porcelain face appeared against the backdrop of her long, dark hair. Presently, I could also begin to make out the bright red colour of her pouty lips. In the end, I could no longer hear my heartbeats and my vision returned completely. I can hardly explain how cute Allison can be when she smiles. Her crescent shaped eyes can melt the heart of the iciest, postmodern, hipster lesbian. She picked up the bottle, which I had dropped on the ground. I wanted to stop her, but my mind was still too hazy for me to speak. "I might need a sip of this, too," she said, and bottomed down the rest. "To a long and happy mar..." She stopped mid-sentence. I saw her eyes widen and her pupils dilate. Her skin grew even paler, almost translucent. Fearing she was about to have a seizure, I grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her, calling her name. Slowly, she came to. The smile returned to her lush lips. "Hi," she said, staring dreamily into my eyes before looking coyly away. "Allison," I said, "that was a drug. Do you know what was in the bottle?" She was still too confused to answer, but I could already see her slowly regain her wits. I no longer felt intoxicated. It seemed like the effect was short-loved. Little did I know that the potion had an after-taste that was much more powerful than the initial effect. "Oh, my god!" Allison was coming to and she was freaking out. "What have we done? What did we drink?" It took some time to calm her. Allison is a worrier and is easily excitable. She apologised profusely for buying the poison. After that, she called up her doctor and scheduled an appointment for a check-up. I felt fine, so I figured that no harm could have been done. Allison was not so easily reassured. For once, she was right. **** The next morning, I awoke some time after noon. The first thing I realised was how wet my thighs were, especially where they converged. I sat up and found my Tiffany Ray doll staring up at me from between my legs. There was a spray of water across the sheets, expanding outwards from the junction of my legs. I guess you've already guessed what had happened. In my sleep, I must have taken the doll and squeezed it between my legs. This was the first time I had seen any physical evidence of myself having had a wet dream. Furthermore, I could not remember having squirted such a big load of juice during an orgasm before. Naturally, I was curious to know what kind of dream could have inspired such an ejaculation. I rubbed my temples, trying to remember. I saw myself sitting in the park. There was a girl before me. It was ... Allison. The image had burned itself into my inner mind, blocking my sight to anything else. Allison's beautiful, porcelain face, with her lovely lips and smiling eyes. Had I already loved her? I think so. This, however, was a craving that was much more powerful than anything I had experienced before. I needed her. I jumped out of bed. Blood was rushing through my body so quickly that I could barely think straight. I pulled down my nightshirt, thus hiding my soaked panties. Then I went and knocked on the door to Allison's room. There was no answer, not even a tired groan. Obviously, she was attending lectures or something. I opened the door and found the room to be empty. There was a photograph on a shelf. It showed Allison and me. She must have been barely eighteen at the time. Allison had been what you could call a late bloomer. The lanky duckling who had been my best friend through high school suddenly turned into a swan. This change was probably the reason for her amiable shyness. It took some time for her to realise how pretty she had become, and even after she realised her effect on boys, it didn't seem like she felt any true ownership of her beauty. I dropped the picture. I could sense something - a scent. It was Allison's scent. Even had I not known that I was in her room, I believe I would have been able to identify the faint smell of perspiration as belonging to her. There was a pile of used clothes on the floor. I grabbed a tank top and breathed in the aromatic produce of one of her workout sessions. My eyes almost rolled back into my skull. The sensation was totally overwhelming. Moments later, my nightshirt was on the floor and I was dressing myself up in her clothes. Not that they fitted me at all. I was unable to button the blouse and the cotton panties were very uncomfortable around my curvier hips. Still, I was able to draw some strange pleasure from it. Once I was all dressed up in all the tight clothes I was able to cram my plump ass into, I turned towards the mirror. I have never felt so ugly. I wished my nose were less pointed, that my eyes were bigger, my cheekbones more pronounced, that my mouth was smaller and my lips thicker, that my hair was straight, that my heavy breasts were perkier, that my legs were longer and my thighs were thinner, that my hips weren't that wide, that my butt didn't jiggle and ... I wished I looked like Allison. I wish that I was Allison. I wished that Allison and I were identical twins and lovers at the same time. I wept bitterly over my imagined hideousness and because Allison wasn't home. The flood of tears only stopped when I caught the scent of a new and enchanting smell. I got down on all fours and crawled around, searching desperately for the source. I must have looked quite bizarre had anyone been there to see me. Under Allison's bed, I found a pair of her expensive lace panties. These smelled different from those I was already wearing. I imagine Allison must have been wearing them to bed after coming home from a date with Ben. I rolled myself onto the bed, grasping the panties in my hand. I could smell the evidence of Allison all over the sheets. My blood was running at extreme speeds, my beating heart and pulsating pussy serving as opposing poles. I think my brain must have become deprived of oxygen, because I felt myself falling into a hallucinogenic trance. Foggy apparitions of Allison appeared all around me. The little ghosts pulled and clawed at me. I could feel one of them biting playfully at my inner thighs ... or was I just pinching myself, trying to determine the reality of my visions? I was rubbing my palm over the wetness between my legs. My big breasts fell out of the borrowed tank top. The apparitions laughed at their size and mocked me by flashing their perky little tits, but I didn't care. Everything was ecstasy. This is what it would feel like if it was possible to orgasm during an acid trip. I screamed. Then I ran out of air. My mouth stayed open, like a duckling waiting to be fed by its mother. All my limbs were shaking in spasms. Then it all stopped. The world spun and I was utterly exhausted. I fell asleep in Allison's bed. **** The rattling of a key chain and the turning of a lock. High heels walking into the kitchen, legs tired after a long day. I awoke to these sounds, somehow knowing that I was in trouble, though not yet sure why. The bed I lay in was not my own, nor were the clothes I was wearing. I had a tight tank top around my midriff like a corset and I was wearing a soaked pair of panties with a deep camel toe. Around me lay several other garments. Many were stretched out or had thorn straps. There was a strong smell of sweat and a faint stench of urine in the room. The windows were closed, and the air was heavy and moist. I tried to get up, but it was no use. My muscles were aching and lacking in strength. There was no way I could get on my feet in time. The footsteps outside came closer. Then the door to the room opened. This was the worst moment of my entire life. Allison just stood there, her red lips agape, her lovely face twisted in an ugly grimace. Several times, I saw her lips move as if she was going to speak, but each time she hesitated. There was nothing to say. No words could express her reaction or help me explain what she was seeing. Even though my sexual orientation had bothered her, I don't think she could have imagined me doing anything like this. For a long time, I simply buried my head in her pillow, unable to look at her. Eventually, I got on my feet and walked out of the room, wearing her wet panties and with my big breast jiggling as I scrambled along. Once I had passed her, she went into her room and locked the door.