The Inventor's New Information
by JMD

The inventor's wife gave a gasp as she suddenly found herself human again, lying face down on her bed.  She rolled over to see a woman smiling down at her.  In her hands, the woman was holding the Linge-Ray.  "Welcome back, Sweetie," the woman greeted her.

Sitting up on the edge of the bed, the redhead glared at her husband.  "You sneaky bastard," she said.

"I think you mean 'bitch'," he corrected, holding out his arms to emphasize his female body.

"Whatever," she huffed, working a cramp out of her back.  "How long?"

Her husband looked disappointed.  "You couldn't tell?" he asked, sitting next to her.

She shrugged.   "Time doesn't have a lot of meaning when you can't see or hear anything."  She glanced over to the bedroom window, noting the fading sunlight coming through the pale curtains.  "Well, crap.  I've lost the whole day."  She turned to her husband.  "I ought to turn you into a toad and make you spend the night in the fish pond out back."

Her husband didn't seem to hear the threat.  He just sat next to her, lost in thought.  "You couldn't see or hear?"

"Well," she smiled at him, "panties don't have eyes or ears.  So, no."

His expression brightened a little.  "But you knew you were panties?"

She smiled back.  "Well, to be honest," she admitted, "I made an assumption.  But I was pretty sure I knew, yeah."

"Why?"

"No bouncing," she explained.  At his curious expression, she went on.  "You'd used the Linge-Ray on me.  Obviously I was some kind of underwear.  And you're a guy... or were.  Anyway, that means your idea of underwear is pretty basic.  Bras and panties.  So, I was one or the other.  Then, when you put me on, I was stretched, but there was no feeling of weight involved.  No, this."  She reached up and gave her breasts a little bounce.  "So, I wasn't a bra.  Therefore, panties."

"Wow," he admired.  "That was pretty good reasoning."

"Thanks," she grinned.  "And thanks for wearing a skirt."

He looked down at the black midi he was wearing.  "Um," he hesitated, blushing, "I couldn't get your jeans over my thighs."

She grinned wider.  "You did turn out a bit bigger than me, didn't you?  Bottom and..."  She hesitated as she noted the outline of a bra under the snug t-shirt he was wearing.  "...top," she finished.  She turned to look over at her closet door.  Seeing the empty clothes hanger on the doorknob, she bit her lip to fight back a giggle.

She needn't have worried, though.  Her husband was deep in thought, so he wouldn't have noticed.  "So, you couldn't see or hear," he reasoned, "but you could feel."  He nodded to himself.  "So, you were aware."

"I was."

"The whole time?"

"Yup," she replied.

He thought some more.  "So, what was different for you than for me earlier?"

She shrugged.  "You're the scientist.  I'm just a witch."

He nodded.  "That's got to be it.  Your witchcraft somehow keeps you from becoming completely inanimate."  He considered.  "I wonder if you turned me into a bra if I'd stay aware."

She looked over at him in surprise.  "You don't know?"

"How would I?" he answered.  "In the year and a half that we've been together, you've only transformed me into stuff that was alive."

She thought about that.  "Really?"

He counted off on his fingers.  "I've been toads, cats, a couple of dogs, a parrot, and a horse that one time at the beach."

She smiled at the memory.  "That was fun."  She considered his list.  "I guess you're right," she admitted after some thought.

"I know I am," he told her.

She thought for a bit more, then smiled.  "Well," she said, getting up from the bed, "I'll make you a deal.  Go out dancing with me and, when we get home, I'll turn you into whatever you want me to."

"Dancing?" he repeated.

"Dancing."

"You mean like this, don't you?" he asked, indicating his female body.

"Just like that," she confirmed.

"I don't know," he hesitated.

"Oh, come on," she pleaded.  "You owe me."

"I do?"

"You do," she insisted, "and you know it.  We were supposed to spend the day hanging out together.  Not with me covering your butt."

"Well..."

She leaned in, giving him her most teasing look.  "Come on, Sweetie.  We'll have fun.  And afterwards, you'll get the answers to all your questions about what my witchcraft can do."

"And if I don't, I won't?" he asked.

"Well, you still might," she admitted with slightly narrowed eyes.

"But not in the way that I want," he suggested.  His wife just shrugged in reply.  He sighed heavily.  "Okay," he told her.  "I know when I've lost.  Let's go dancing."

"Sweet!" she shouted, practically bouncing with joy.  "This is going to be so fun.  I've got just the outfit for you to wear."

"Outfit?"

"Yup," she confirmed as she moved over to her dresser.  Opening her underwear drawer, she pulled out a clean pair of panties.  "It'll probably be a little tight on you," she explained, turning back to him with a smile, "but that can be fun, too."  She winked at him.

He sank lower into the mattress.  "I'm so going to regret this."

"Oh, come on," she said, coming over.  "I told you.  It'll be fun.  I promise."  She bent over and gave him a quick kiss on the lips.  "But first," she added, leaning back to look into his eyes, "I need a shower."

"A shower?  Why?"

She cocked her eyebrow at him.  "I told you.  I was aware the whole time."  He just looked back at her in confusion.  "The WHOLE time," she repeated.  "That includes all the times you..."  He still didn't seem to get it, so she wiggled her fingers at him.

His eyes widened as he realized what she was getting at.  "Oh.  That."

"Yeah, that."  She smiled at his discomfort.  "Relax, Sweetie.  It was your first time as a woman.  A little exploration was a given.  But, as your underwear, it all got a bit...  ew.  So, I'm going to go take me a nice long shower.  And then, you're going to go do the same."

His expression brightened.  "It'll save time if we take one together."

"It might," she agreed, "but I doubt it."  She turned toward the door.  "Besides, you've got something else to do while I'm getting cleaned up anyway."

He looked after her in confusion.  "I do?"

"You do," she said, stopping at the door.  She turned back and smiled.  "You see, Sweetie," she grinned, "that bra you're wearing."  She watched as he looked down at his chest, then back up at her.  "It's your sister," she told him.

"My sister?"

"Yup."  At his confused expression, she went on, "Not my fault.  Your Linge-Ray did it to her.  She's been stuck that way for a whole day now.  You should probably do something about that."  She turned and went out the door.  "Just be sure she knows it was your fault, not mine this time," she called out from the hallway.

If he heard her, he didn't acknowledge it.  He just stared back down at his t-shirt.  He knew it wasn't possible, but he would have sworn that the bra beneath it had pulled tighter around his breasts.  "Well, crap."