by grapehyacinth
(Bowling TFs, TF/TG, doll TF)
(Warning: some coarse language!!)Cybelle was an accomplished sorceress. She was not, however, as well-versed in her knowledge of the male gender. All through her magic-school studies, she never had bothered much with the boys- she was too deep into her coursework, and they rarely if ever had expressed any interest in her, anyway. In the years following graduation, she had dated an old classmate, but it hadn't gone anywhere.
Lydia, one of the few school friends that she still kept in touch with, suggested that she date someone from the 'non-magical' world. Cybelle was skeptical.
“My brother-in-law is trying to find someone to date his friend. You could try him.”
Lydia was newly married to a talented sorcerer, and they were so happy together that she was trying her best to get all her other single friends married. Even if it wasn't to sorcerers.
“What does this friend do?”
Cybelle could hear Lydia hesitate on the other end of the line. “What does Van do?” she repeated. "Well, he..."
“His name is Van? What is he, a truck?” Cybelle smiled to herself.
“Yeah, he's a truck, Cybelle. Cut it out. He works at that bowling alley a few blocks from you on Mark Street.”
Chuckling, then breaking out in laughter, Cybelle spouted out, “I should date a bowling alley guy?”
“Hey, at least he has a job! Come on, working in a bowling alley doesn't mean he's a bad guy. Give him a chance. You might have a lot of fun with him!”
“I never bowled in my life!”
“He can teach you!”
Balking, Cybelle agreed. It might be nice to finally have some male companionship.
Things did not go well from the start. Van set up the date by texting Cybelle to meet him at the bowling alley at seven. He didn't even bother to call.
The night was so warm and summery that Cybelle walked the few blocks to the building. She entered, feeling ridiculous. Why would she ever want to date a guy named Van who worked in a bowling alley? But then again, why would he want to date someone like her?
She walked up to the counter, scanning the workers' nametags. None of the men were Van. She asked for him, and a worker tagged as, “Jessie, biggest and best” yelled into the back, “Hey, Big Dude, your chick is here.”
Cybelle couldn't resist making a comment. These guys were all full of themselves. Everyone was “big”. This Jessie was big only in the sense that he was dumpy. “You're the biggest and best?” she held back a titter.
The young man stood up tall, jutting his chest out. “Damn straight I am!”
Cybelle rolled her eyes. This man would be fun to transform. Into large clunky things – a nice dresser, perhaps?
A too-blonde man pushed Jessie aside. “Hey, you Sybil?” he directed at her.
“Cybelle,” she corrected him through clenched teeth. “You say it like 'Si – bell'. The emphasis is on the 'bell' part.”
The blonde looked peeved. “That's what I said.” He came out from behind the counter and walked past her. “Wait for me. I'll be back soon.”
She watched after him in amazement. “I guess that's Van,” she muttered. No one bothered to answer.
He did not come back for several minutes, and Cybelle was beginning to feel he would make a nice chest of drawers to match his friend Jessie. She observed the people tossing bowling balls down the alleys, and wondered why anyone enjoyed this sport. It seemed silly and repetitive. But the smack of the ball against the pins admittedly was very satisfying. She wished she could smack a ball against this Van guy.
Just then, he was back. “Where do you wanna go, Sybil?” he asked her, grabbing her arm.
Instinctively, Cybelle pulled away. She could not believe Lydia had matched her up with this brute of a man. What had she been thinking? Had she ever seen or met him?
“Cybelle,” she corrected him again. He ignored her, but dropped her arm. Striding towards the door of the bowling alley, he called back, “Let's get going,” without bothering to see if she was coming.
She knew she could not continue on with this man, but she didn't want to let Lydia down. She had to at least make an effort. So, helplessly, she followed him.
When they met up outside, Cybelle could feel Van sizing her up, and she cringed.
“Let's go walk to the cafe down the street.”
“You don't have a car?”
He glanced at her. “Why should I waste gas?” He ogled her further. “Aren't you like a witch or something? That Lydia chick told my friend you went to some weird witch-school. Can't you, like, fly?”
Was this man serious? Cybelle gaped at him, open-mouthed. “Um, I studied the magical arts...”
He chuckled. “Shit, you seriously believe in that stuff? It's like... it's like fake shit.”
I can't spend another minute with this guy, she realized. He's just...horrible.
“It's not fake,” she replied, trying not to show her annoyance. “I have a four-year college degree in it.”
“Damn. You wasted four years of your life studying, like, fairies and shit? How much money was that? I hope you got a scholarship, at least?” For some reason, he found this quite funny. “A fairy scholarship, right! Shit, that's awesome! I gotta tell Jessie and Carl about that.”
Now Cybelle was beginning to shake in anger. She had to get away or she would do something they'd both regret. “I don't think that's a good idea,” she mumbled. “I don't think this date is a good idea either. Nice to meet you.” She began to walk off, but he snatched up her arm and twisted her around to face him.
“Hey, what the hell? Where do you think you're going? We haven't spent any time together yet! I don't even know you!”
“That's fine with me,” she said, and attempted to continue on, but he held her back.
“No, no. I took off early for you. I'm fucking going to have my date! And then after, we'll find a nice place in the woods...for that 'strike' I'm looking to get tonight!”
Cybelle's mouth fell open at his sheer audacity. “Oh, you'll get a strike alright!” she spat.
She knew what she was doing, and she knew she shouldn't be doing it. But it needed to be done. Van's arms suddenly slammed to his sides. “What the fuck made me do that? Hey – I can't move...anything...” His legs were melding together, and his arms seemed to be becoming part of his sides. He was tottering back and forth, spouting a sea of curses and 'what the hells' as his body began to shrink and harden. His skin was turning white, but a little red band was forming at his neck.
“What the hell did you do? Why is everything getting so big? Why do I feel so weird? Help me, you bitch!”
“How can I help you? You told me my schooling is all fake.”
Cybelle merely watched the man transform, enjoying the spectacle as she always did. She had been top of her class in Transformation 101, and had even gone further with it, declaring it as her major.
“But...but...but...” his rhythmic rocking became so violent, that he toppled to his side, now a perfect bowling pin.
Cybelle fished him up. “Excellent!” she cried gleefully. “You turned out wonderfully!”
“What...why?”
“You make a lovely bowling pin, Van! I'm impressed. I didn't think you'd amount to anything, ever!”
“How the fuck did you do that?” He wobbled in her grip. “And if I'm really a bowling pin, why the hell am I talking?”
“Oh, your body has been turned into a bowling pin, but you still have your soul! And you're talking because I think bowling pins with eyes and a mouth are very cute.” She giggled despite herself.
“Let go of me, you crazy bitch!”
“Okay!”
Cybelle dropped him to the pavement, and he twisted around helplessly. “Oh...God...” he moaned, getting cut off each time he rolled over his mouth.
“Now, Van, what should we do with you? Put you back in the bowling alley, perhaps?” Cybelle's eyes twinkled at the thought.
“You know, they're going to find out about you. I told Jessie and Carl to come join me in a half hour. They wanted a 'strike' too.”
More possible bowling pins? This was even better! “And they'll get one.”
Cybelle remained where they were, Van moaning and groaning beside her. When Jessie and Carl approached, Jessie called, “Yo, where's Van?”
The sorceress tittered and picked Van up by the neck. He made a choking sound. “Right here.”
The two men stopped. “Yeah, right, bitch,” said Carl.
Jessie looked slightly worried.
“I'm a fucking bowling pin, guys! Look at me!” Van chimed in.
Both men's eyes widened. “Holy fuck!” Carl exclaimed.
“She's a real witch-chick!”
“Get her!”
As the two launched themselves toward Cybelle, they froze up and collapsed to the ground. Shuddering and shrieking, they began to shrink themselves as their figures took on the curves of two more bowling pins.
Cybelle picked up the new objects. Carl tried to bite at her, and Jessie emitted a sea of curses. “Now, let's get you home. You can be my own private bowling alley so I can finally learn to bowl.”
“Hey, you can't take those!” called a voice behind her. She turned to see another young man trudging up to her. “Give me those! You stole them from the bowling alley!”
“Greg! Get away! Quick!” the pins yelled.
The newest arrival cocked his head, trying to understand where his coworker's voices were emanating from.
“She made us bowling pins!” Carl shouted in disdain.
Greg's mouth fell open in disbelief, but the fact that the bowling pins had faces seemed to convince him. “What the hell did you do to them? Give me them! Now!”
Carl chortled, “You know what? Greg's an asshole. He deserves to be a pin. In fact, he's a pin-head, get it?”
The other two pins began to chuckle until Greg began to change.
“Oh, holy shit,” uttered Van.
Cybelle picked up her latest creation and tried to balance all four pin-men in her arms, but Van fell to the pavement with a crash and a loud curse. “Careful with me, damn it!”
“I think I'll be needing a box for my new boy-toys,” Cybelle chuckled. She turned back towards the bowling alley and approached the dumpster. Several cartons sat near the recyclable area.
As she placed her captives on the ground to take a box, the back door of the building opened, and a younger man walked outside to dump the trash. He spied her and immediately inquired, “Hey, did you steal our pins?”
“Timmy! Run, Timmy! Run!” the four pins cried loudly.
“Timmy!” someone shouted from inside. “Timmy, you little fucker! Get over here! I told you to clean up the vomit in the bathroom!”
“Shit!” mumbled Timmy. “Go fuck yourself.”
Soon, Cybelle had acquired two more pins.
As Cybelle carried her toys home, they grumbled and protested in their box, which she found very amusing. She always was fascinated by how differently people acted when they were transformed. Some were horrified, some were angry, some cried... and then were the ones who enjoyed her work. She loved them. She wished she could keep them as pets to make them happy, but she always followed the rules of her school. Nothing permanent, if it was against the person's wishes.
So her toys would be turned back, but not until she tired of them.
“Can you be a little careful there, Sybil? I keep getting knocked into Greg here, and I swear, I think he's enjoying it!” Van complained.
“I feel awesome like this,” Timmy declared. Cybelle could hear the smile in his voice, and she wondered if he deserved how she was treating him. But then again, he was relishing it, so it wasn't so bad.
“How the fuck could you feel awesome if you've been turned into a bowling pin?” Jessie seethed.
“It does feel kind of nice,” Greg admitted in a small voice. “I feel all...tough...and solid...and hard...”
“You're hard, huh?” jibed Carl, which led the set of pins into snickers.
“Who the fuck are you, lady?” asked the newest pin, who happened to be the bowling alley's owner, Chris.
Cybelle grinned. “Your powerful master,” she threw at him.
“Why are you doing this? How the hell are you doing this?”
“Magic!” she tittered. “Pure and simple transformational magic.”
“What the fuck?”
“And I'm doing it because it seems like every single male I encounter is basically an asshole!” she shouted into his bowling-pin face.
“I didn't do anything,” Timmy pointed out.
He really hadn't done much, other than accuse her of stealing the pins, which made sense. “You yelled at me,” Cybelle mumbled.
“It's okay. I like it. Can you leave me this way?”
She patted his top, and he wobbled and fell over, crashing into Greg. “Oh, sorry, Greg. Can you pet me again, lady?”
“Pet?” Cybelle laughed. She gave him a vigorous rub as she rounded the corner of her block.
Towards the end of the long block sat a bar, which often got very rowdy. Tonight was no exception. And when four drunken men started taunting her and following her home, she soon had completed her set. “Four more pins makes ten! Guys, I can go bowling with you now!” she tossed them into the box.
“Yay!” cried Timmy and Greg.
“Fuck you, bitch,” growled Van.
“What the hell is this?” asked one of the new drunken-pins.
“Dude, it's like...awesomeness!” replied one of his friends, and he fell over.
“Drunken bowling pins. What will they think of next?” Cybelle mused aloud.
“I think I'm gonna vomit!” said the third drunk. The others began to shout and try to move away, but being a bowling pin, there wasn't much to vomit with.
When Cybelle reached her house, she attempted to get the mail from her mailbox. Balancing the box of her new prizes in her left hand, she picked up her letters, but lost hold of the pins. With several shouts and crashes, all ten pins and their box hit the pavement with a smack.
“Hey, you need help there?”
Cybelle pulled her eyes from the bobbing pins to see Nick, her neighbor, coming towards her with his dog. She always kept to herself, but they often greeted each other when he walked by. She fished up the box and grabbed up at the closest pin – which happened to be Van. “Hey, that's my face! Watch it!”
Quickly Cybelle threw a spell over the ten pins, removing any trace of features.
“I'm okay. Thanks, Nick,” she uttered, but her neighbor had begun to retrieve the pins for her.
“What do you mean, 'that's my face?'” he asked in an amused voice. He placed the pins into the box. “Your pins talk?”
Uncomfortable, Cybelle fished up the last few pins, wondering who they were. “Yes, we're great friends,” she stuttered, and picked up the box.
Nick studied her for a moment. “You know, we never really talk,” he said carefully. He was neither attractive nor unattractive; just plain, brown hair, brown eyes... Cybelle figured he was her age or perhaps a year or two older. She did not know what he did for a living, only that he came home at five thirty every day. And, as far as she knew, he was single.
“Maybe sometime.”
“When?”
Cybelle gulped, thinking back to her proclamation that all men were assholes. “Tomorrow night?”
“We can go out, or I can cook for you. How about that? I'll bring dinner by your house. My house is so disgusting there's no room for two to eat there,” he laughed, and Cybelle joined in. Nick was a sweet, harmless man. There wasn't a mean bone in his body – his goodness poured off of him in waves.
“Seven o'clock?”
“Seven it is.”
Cybelle spent a good amount of time cleaning up her house the next day. Nick did not need to see spellbooks or cauldrons lying about. She wondered how much he knew about her. There were plenty of gossips around the neighborhood to supply him with information on her. Not that anyone had ever been nasty to her, but she had gotten her share of odd looks from time to time.
Shortly before Nick was set to arrive, the phone rang. “Hey, Lydia. What's up? I can't talk long. I have a date.”
There was a silence on the other end. “A date? Not with Van, you don't. Cybelle, did you do something to the bowling alley guys?”
Cybelle began to cough. “Why?”
“Didn't you hear? It's on the news! They all just...disappeared, and the alley was deserted all night. No one shut it down, and no one can get in contact with the owner – or anyone that worked there, either.”
Hesitating, Cybelle finally gave in. There was no use lying to Lydia. Her friend could get the truth out of her in several ways – magical or not. “Lydia, that man was horrible! How could you set me up with him?”
“Really? I never met him.”
“You have no idea! He practically attacked me, and he's a jerk, and–”
“So you did something to him and everyone else in the bowling alley?”
“Well, it kind of escalated...”
“Is he dead?”
“No, you know I'd never hurt anyone! I just...changed him...them...”
“To?”
“Bowling pins?”
There was a crash outside her open window. She smashed down the phone and rushed outside to view Nick and several plates of food lying in the bushes. He simply blinked up at her.
“You heard,” she stated in a weak voice.
He gulped.
She helped him up, trying not to laugh at the expression of fear on his face and the patterns of splattered food on his clothes. “You cooked that all for me?”
Nodding, he stuttered, “Uh, I can go home now if you want...”
“No, don't be afraid. Come on in, and I'll whip some food up for us. You can get your plates later.”
Brushing himself off, he glanced at her, obviously trying to decide if he was going to join a bunch of bowling pins. “It's okay...”
“Please come in. I'll explain everything, and I promise I won't hurt you. Unless you decide to work in a bowling alley.”
“I hate that place. The guys there are jerks,” Nick snorted. Gingerly, he followed her inside, his curiosity overcoming his fear. “I heard you were into some kind of magic stuff, and I was so curious about it, but I never imagined...”
She settled down on the couch, gesturing for him to the same. Cautiously, he sat down a few feet from her. “Yes, it's very real.” She indicated the pins gathered in the corner of the room.
He gazed at them in disbelief. “They're really people? How is that possible? Do they know they're bowling pins?”
She waved her hand. “I had a silent spell over them, but it's off now. Have a blast.”
A face appeared on one. “Hey! Why'd you keep us from talking?”
“Dude, get away from the witch!”
Nick gaped at the first pin. “Van Trenton? Is that you?”
“She'll transform you! She's evil!”
“Shut up, Jessie, dude, it's soooo awesome. Ask her to make you into a pin!”
A strange feeling welled up inside of Nick. He turned to Cybelle. “That one likes it?”
Cybelle nodded, blushing. “It's nice to transform, unless you don't want it, like my near-rapist here.”
“Fuck you,” Van replied.
Cybelle shook her head. “He never learns.”
Nick drew up to his full height. “And he's some bastard!” he yelled, running over to the pin that was Van and strangling it.
The pin only laughed. “I'm made of wood, guy. Can't kill me like that.”
“I'll burn you.”
“Oh, shit.”
“Nick, why are you so mad at him in particular?” Cybelle queried with interest.
Nick tossed the pin to the floor, making it groan. “This bastard actually date-raped my sister. It's his thing. My God, I wish I was a ball so I could smash him....” His eyes lit up with possibilities, and he glanced at Cybelle.
“You want that?” she asked quietly.
Nick was silent, obviously pondering this.
“Do it! Do it!” Timmy cheered. “Join us!”
“You'll love it,” Cybelle purred lovingly. “No pain. Come here, and I'll make it even more enjoyable for you.”
As if mesmerized, Nick approached her. She took him in her arms, stroking at him. “Change for me, sweet one, change for me.”
She rubbed at him, his skin growing smoother and more plasticy. Helping him to the floor, she coaxed him to clasp his hands around his legs. She was pushing him into a ball form, and he could only moan with pleasure as his body fused together into a sphere. “Thank you,” he murmured, as he hardened and shrank into a bowling ball.
When she removed her hands from the new object, it continued to rock back and forth, reveling in its new form. She allowed it to without interrupting.
When it finally grew still, she stroked its smooth surface. “You like this, Nick?” she inquired.
The ball shuddered with delight, and a face appeared on its side. “I never have felt this way in my life. It was...is...amazing. And it feels so nice when you rub my side like that...” The ball paused. “Roll me. Now.”
Chuckling, Cybelle got up and began to arrange the protesting pins into a 'v' shape. “So, I haven't played before. I know you line them up this way. Then I aim for them?”
“Aim me right at that middle pin. That's Van. Hopefully I'll knock all the rest of your friends down too. That's a strike.”
“Fuck you. You suck as a ball, Nick. You suck at everything,” hissed Van as Cybelle made sure he was placed properly.
“If nothing else, make sure I knock that bastard down,” growled the ball.
“Now how do I hold you?” Cybelle asked, grabbing him up.
“See the three divots in me? Get your fingers inside them.” When Cybelle did, the ball moaned contentedly. “Okay, give a good toss, and let me at them.”
“Go, Nick!” yelled Timmy and Greg. The rest of the pins grumbled in annoyance.
Cybelle drew back her arm, and let the ball roll. It shouted in excitement as it careened across the floor. “Yes!”
“Don't hit me, you bastard!” exclaimed Van nervously, but the ball kept on its course.
“Go, go!” cried Greg. “Knock us all down!”
Nick collided with Van with a large crack. Van screeched, and Nick cried out victoriously as the rest of the pins wobbled and fell. The triumphant ball continued on until he smacked against the back wall. This changed his course and he ended up back in Cybelle's welcoming hands.
She picked him up and gave him a peck.
“Look at that. It takes me being transformed into a bowling ball to get a woman to kiss me!” smiled Nick.
Cybelle changed him back into a man, and he gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you. I've always wanted to do something like that.”
“Be a bowling ball?”
“Smash Van Trenton. I wish I could do more to him.”
Cybelle looked over his shoulder at the pins lying on their sides.
“Oh, we can do plenty more to him. Whatever you'd like.”
Cybelle returned most of the other pins to their original forms. Greg and Timmy, however, were so enchanted with being objects that they made Cybelle promise to use them if the need arose. “I'll pay you to change me again,” Timmy said. “I'll be whatever you want!”
Cybelle was very flattered. She loved how enamored the two were with her abilities. “I'd never ask you to pay me. But I'll be happy to transform you on occasion. Come by now and then to visit.”
The two left, leaving only Cybelle, Nick, and a very angry Van, who was still a bowling pin.
“You're going to leave me this way forever?” he demanded with false bravado.
Cybelle grinned. “Oh, not at all. I've got something much better.”
Nick looked entranced. The bowling pin frowned. “What the hell will you do now?”
“You need to learn your lesson.”
“I did,” it said in a monotone.
“No. You didn't. But now you will.”
She set the pin on the ground, and it began to grow. “Oh, thank God! I'm going to be human again!” it cried as it softened into flesh and blood. Limbs popped from its side, and a head was forming.
“Hey, no clothes?” Van asked. “Uh...what is this?” he was gazing down at his chest – which was growing far too large for a man. He looked further down at his crotch and shrieked in horror. “Hey, where the hell is my...”
His eyes bulged as he felt long hair moving down his back. “Oh, shit...you didn't...”
Nick looked him up and down hungrily. “Damn, Van, you make one beautiful woman.”
The shocked man grabbed at the growing hair, trying to tear it from his head.
“Stop it, Van, let the transformation finish first. I'm working hard on you!”
“You bitch!” he lunged at her. Cybelle merely waved her hand, and he shrank and fell to the ground, now a Barbie doll.
“Oh...oh, shit...I can't move and I'm all...hard and...curvy...”
“You made him Barbie!” Nick exclaimed in awe. “That's so fitting! I love it! Look at that figure!”
“Shit. Shit. Shit,” the doll cried in a tiny voice. “You can't do this to a person! Especially to a man!”
“Some man you are,” said Nick. “Goddamned rapist.”
“So I shouldn't do this to a man,” Cybelle snorted. “But it would be okay if I do it to a woman?”
The doll was silent for a moment. “Listen, I'm sorry. I won't hurt you! I promise,” it mumbled with some regret in its voice.
“Can we sell him at a store?” asked Nick.
“We could. We'll get him a box, put him on display–”
“Fuck you! Turn me back!”
“Soon.”
They placed the Barbie doll in the back alley of the bar and left it there. It looked sadly vulnerable lying in the dirt beside several old beer bottles. “No! Don't leave me like this! No! They'll do horrible things to me like this! They'll use me for...”
“Wow, can you imagine the things they'd do with such an attractive Barbie?” smiled Nick.
“Yes, you'll make a lot of drunks happy,” Cybelle threw over her shoulder, and they walked off.
When they were further down the road, Nick whispered, “So how long will he be a doll?”
“A few hours. Then he'll revert to a person...well, a woman. And the men won't be able to take their hands off him. They'll constantly be on him, just like he was with other women.”
Nick clasped his hands together in delight. “And then?”
“When he finally learns his lesson, he'll go back to being himself.”
Nick gazed at her in adoration and awe. “You're amazing, Cybelle.”
“Thank you, Nick.”
“Now turn me into something.”
“Like?”
“Hmm... have you ever played pool?”