Freckles - TG Caption

“Oh my God you loser! Quit staring at Beth!”

I sat there, mortified. I had been staring again. It wasn’t on purpose, and was hard for me not to, but not for the reason that those glaring at me obviously thought. The new girl, Beth, was a beautiful, fiery-haired girl with a generous scattering of freckles and a kind smile. She was kind in general. In the brief moment I glanced up and mumbled my apologies, I noticed she was one of the only girls not glaring at me. She almost looked…sympathetic? Maybe it was solidarity among gingers? Thankfully, class was nearly over. The bell rang soon after and I gathered my things, only to be bumped into by the object of my misunderstood infatuation.

Picking up the bag I dropped, Beth said, “Sorry Lee, I must be having a clumsy day,” and smiled, handing it back to me.

“Ahh, tha..thats ok,” I stammered back, taking my bag. “And I’m…sorry again, about before.”

“Don’t worry about it. I didn’t get any creepy vibes.  Anyway, have a good night, Lee,” she finished with a wink and walked away, a sway to her hips that had me staring again.  Not with lust, although I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t some of that mixed in. No, the emotion that welled up was jealousy.

***

Later that evening, I was taking my books out when something clattered to the floor. Picking it up and turning it over, I saw the words ‘Freckle Pen’ etched onto the side. How did that get in there, I wondered. Maybe Beth dropped it when she bumped into me? I should ask her about it tomorrow. Weirdly, it didn’t look store-bought, but more like something homemade. I popped a cap off the end and examined the fine, marker-like tip. It looked simple enough to use. Deciding it wouldn’t hurt if I tested it out a bit, I held out my left hand and lightly applied the applicator, leaving a lone freckle between my thumb and forefinger.

Some redheads are absolutely covered in freckles, while some have skin that is clear as can be. I fall firmly into the latter group, despite my own light ginger hair. I’ve always found freckles to be incredibly cute, so the lack of any is just one more small thing to not like about my body. One looked surprisingly realistic, so I tried a few more, lightly dusting the back of my hand in spots, making it almost tingle from the rapid application. I held my hand out in admiration once it was covered, liking the look, but then I noticed something odd. I could swear there were more spots than there should be, certainly more than I added, and that wasn’t all. My freckled hand looked smaller. Holding out the other to compare, it was smaller. The right, so-called ‘blemish free’ appendage was now obviously larger. As I continued to compare the two, my left hand started to feel strange again, and before my eyes, one little spot split into two, then again and again. My left hand exploded with freckles spreading all around. As they danced, it continued to change. My fingers grew long and refined leaving the whole thing looking distinctly feminine. When they eventually stop moving, I had a girl's hand at the end of my regular arm.

My breath caught. That couldn't possibly have happened, right? I must be hallucinating. I decided to test it again, adding small dots all along the same arm up to the shoulder. I stopped and waited a moment, but nothing happened. Disappointment gripped me until, out of the corner of my eye, one of the newly applied spots begin to quiver slightly before splitting, followed by another and another, the dance beginning again. My entire arm reduced in size, the not terribly impressive male muscles melting away to something more willowy. My arm…looked like a woman’s. This was really happening.

Quickly as possible, I stripped and stood in front of the mirror. I repeated my previous actions all along my right hand and arm and watched, fascinated, as it changed shape to mirror the left. Deciding to continue working at the extremes and make my way in, I shifted to my feet next, adding small spots along the tops and toes until they took over, doubling, tripling in amount. The freckles bounced around like busy little bees as my feet crunched down to a size that seemed incapable of balancing my body, and I didn’t stop there. Going a little crazy with the pen, I began dotting all up and down both of my legs, nearly to the crotch before I stopped, nervous about taking things that far. My legs followed suit with the rest of the changes so far, reducing in length and muscle while fat redistributed. My thighs rounded. My hips cracked and popped wider.

Skipping my privates entirely for now, I dabbed the small device around my potbelly and along the sides of my waist. The buzzing, tingling sensation was even more intense and my stomach felt hollow as it caved in. My waist took on the shape that caused such envy earlier in the day. Thinking of that moment, I reached behind with the pen and added a plethora of beauty spots to my behind. They reacted as expected and it expanded over the next minute, the changes coming more rapidly. I turned back, noticing a distinct jiggle as I did and admired the reflection of my lower half in the mirror. I was far from done.

I paused a moment, staring at my depressingly flat chest, hoping this would be the last time I’d see it that way. Overeager, I used the pen to stipple away at the curve-less expanse. Like a fire, the freckles caught, spread, multiplied and the breasts that belonged there appeared. They were small at first, two tiny nubs pushing out to perky, sensitive cones. This gave me more area to work with, so I added another heaping helping of freckles and dropped my arms to watch the show. The cones filled in from the bottom, rounding into two shaped teardrops of perfection. Then my second application took over and they ballooned, forever changing my posture as my body's weight redistributed. I dragged in deep breaths, the breasts on my chest heaving with each exhalation. Just two areas to go. I couldn’t decide which to do first, so I figured ‘screw it,’ and went for them both.

My face wasn’t anything special. It wasn’t overly masculine or feminine, so didn’t bother me as much as the rest of my body, but it still wasn’t what I wanted. I darted around with the pen, adding a daub here, a speckle there. I finished quickly, but before the changes could happen, I reached down below to cover the final unmarked and most personally unappealing area of my body. Within moments my entire crotch was covered with multiplying freckles zipping here and there. Just then, my face started to prickle and transform. My bottom lip swelled, but nearly everything else got smaller. The nose and chin reduced dramatically, giving me an almost elfin appearance. My eyes didn’t get larger, but the face around them contracted, making them seem huge by comparison. As I looked into the mirror again, I noticed my normally light red hair darken to a fire engine red. Shortly after, my attention was stolen by far more than the usual mild tingling of changes coming from between my legs. I watched my penis narrow and shorten. It disappeared under a tiny hood of skin and I wished it good riddance. My scrotum tightened, pulling against the crotch and forcing my testicles up inside my body where they traveled to their new location and function. This seam split forming a far more complicated structure between my thighs than I was used to. The 'peak' was intense, not quite an orgasm, but an all-over bodily joy that reflected in the eyes and smile that greeted me in the mirror. This is me, I thought. Damn, I’m beautiful!

It was then that I finally noticed the subtle and not so subtle changes to my room, a half-opened jewelry box sitting on the dresser, a green, shimmery bra hanging haphazardly from the same dressers’ top drawer, a small vanity in one corner of the room covered in make-up, and a large collection of tiny, framed pictures hanging on a wall were there had only been a few before. I walked over, examining them. Nearly all of them showed two incredible, freckle-faced young women hanging all over each other, obviously close friends. Perhaps very good friends, given the more than friendly kiss in the final picture. I recognized them both. One was Beth, and the other was the face now staring back at me from the mirror. I also realized the few pictures that should’ve been there, those of me and my best friend, Eli, were missing. Eli, who I…hadn’t talked to in a couple of weeks, which was crazy. We usually met or texted every few days. Where was- The thought cut off with a sharp spike of pain in my head that came with a sudden, unexplainable yet undeniable realization.

“Holy crap, Eli is Elizabeth… Beth!?” I shouted out loud. He…she did this to me? I wanted to text or call, but Eli, and I guess Beth, lived in a valley on the other side of town with terrible reception. I would have to wait until the next day to ask her, to thank her. Maybe, I thought while looking at that last pic again, I could thank her in a very special way indeed.