Peggy Bundy - Classroom Curiosity

“Everyone remember to get the assignment done by Monday! You’ve got the whole weekend to work on it – no excuses!” Mrs Delmer cried out over the ringing bell, heralding the end of the lesson. Peter, still half asleep, packed his laptop back into the bag. The computer had gone to sleep, just as he had done so, his hand propping him up at the back of the classroom. The rest of his classmates were filtering out of the room when he was still slowly rising from his seat. The teacher came over to him.

“Are you feeling okay, Peter? It looked like you weren’t paying any attention that class”, she asked, smiling as warmly as she could manage. Peter forced a smile in return.

“All good, Mrs Delmer. I’m just a bit tired, that’s all”, Peter said.

“Well, try and get some sleep, okay? And make sure you get the assignment finished, I want to see your grades improve by the end of the year”, the teacher said, moving back towards her desk.

“What was the assignment again?” Peter asked, embarrassed. “It’s not that I’ve forgotten – I just want to make sure I do it right, that’s all”. Mrs Delmer unthinkingly rolled her eyes before turning back round to her student.

“I expect to see two thousand words about the importance of the American sitcom. Go watch a few episodes of your favourite show, then write about what it says about the context in which it was created. It should be a fun assignment! You get to watch some TV!” Mrs Delmer said, trying to sound enthusiastic about the prospect of homework.

“Okay, great!” Peter said. “I’ll have that all finished for you by Monday”. He headed out of the classroom with a polite nod to his teacher. The corridor was mostly empty, his friends who he attended the class with were gone, off enjoying their break between periods. Peter began to walk, knowing that if he was in theirsituation, he would have woken up a sleeping friend, instead of letting them embarrass themselves in front of the teacher. As he walked, he thought over the assignment. Mrs Delmer wasn’t a strict teacher by any means, so the assignment would probably be marked fairly. Peter needed to get his grades up, and the assignment might let him do that. He just hoped Mrs Delmer would take some pity on him. Idly walking, he tried to think of any old sitcoms he could watch to revise for the essay. He hadn’t watched a sitcom in years – he mostly watched sports or drama series. He vaguely remembered watching old episodes of shows with his parents when he was younger and tried to remember what they were. The memories were hazy – he could barely remember theme tunes, let alone any jokes or how relevant they would be the context of the piece. Just as Peter was about to head outside and join his friend, Peter noticed a door down the other end of the corridor that was ajar.

Slowly walking over to it, he remembered what it was. The door was for the old, condemned science laboratory. All of the students had been forbidden from ever going inside, pending a ‘refurbishment’ that never arrived. The laboratory was a great mystery in the school. There were always rumours of terrible accidents or strange events within it, alongside the usual nonsense of ghost stories and hidden tunnels, and Peter was always curious. He was never curious enough to try and force his way into the abandoned room, but now that the door was unlocked and open, he couldn’t resist the temptation. It was practically begging him to go explore. He was due to leave the school soon, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to rest without knowing exactly what went on inside the room.

Heading through the door, Peter was shocked at how dusty it was. The promised refurbishment had clearly never started, and the room was in much the same condition as when it was locked up in the nineties. Old lights swung above his head, and he didn’t dare try the switches in case something had short circuited in the decades since. Taking a final peek out at the corridor, Peter closed the door behind him.

The room was larger than the modern classrooms he had been used to, with a huge blackboard at one end of the room, covered in equations and phrases that might as well have been in another language for Peter. There were many desks set up facing the board, all covered in graffiti. Peter smiled as he ran his hand over the dusty, scratched wood on one of the desks. Students never changed. The main focal point of the room was a large device set up in front of the blackboard. Suspended from the ceiling was a large metallic orb, its sheen gone through the years of dust covering it. Below this, in the centre of the floor, was a circle, formed from the same metal. Peter looked around the room once more. He could see pencils left on the desks, and the chairs untucked. There was even a stack of papers on the teacher’s desk in the corner, alongside the nubs of chalk scattered around on the floor. It looked like the room was left in a hurry with no attempt at cleaning it up. Walking towards the circle on the floor, Peter wondered what had caused such a dramatic evacuation of the room.

Once both of his feet were inside the circle, a sudden jet of steam shot up towards Peter from the ground. He yelped in shock, and tried to move, but found his feet were firmly planted to the floor of the classroom. He tried to call out for help, but his voice was too quiet to carry over the steam, blasting up from beneath him. Just then, the metallic orb above him crackled into life. The dust that had settled on it was burned away in an instant. The room, once dark and dingy, was now lit up in brilliant blue as arcs of electricity burst from the orb, tossing papers and chairs all over. Peter tried to run, but he was stuck fast. One of the bolts curled round, striking into him as he tried desperately to free himself. Peter looked at his body as it was soon covered in the same blue light, washing out his features until he was almost formless. Then, the light from the room seemed to reverse, now pouring back into his body. Whatever was happening to Peter, he was glad it wasn’t painful, but he knew he should never had come into the abandoned laboratory. Then, everything stopped. The bolts of light stopped as soon as they began, and the room returned to its dull, grey light, as if the machine had never powered up at all. Peter was just relieved that everything was back to normal until he looked down at his body.

His simple, practical clothes were gone. Confused, he tugged with shaking hands at what had replaced them. His t-shirt was turned into a tight yellow vest, clinging fast to his chest. He peeled back the collar of the low-cut vest and realised, strangest of all, he was wearing a bra, the large, empty cups pressed tightly against his pectorals. Looking now at his wrist, Peter realised his watch was gone, the thin leather strap and plain timepiece now a bulky golden watch, more suited as a piece of jewellery rather than a way of telling the time. As he moved his head to look down at the rest of his body, he realised there was a new weight hanging from each earlobe. He extended his hands up and felt two massive earrings, dangling down. They rubbed uncomfortably at his cheeks. He discovered his legs were now covered in a pair of high waisted black trousers instead of the jogging bottoms he had been wearing before he stepped into the machine, the yellow vest tucked into them with the prominent, glossy black buckle on display. Just like the vest, he took a nervous peek at his underwear to find it was now a pair of soft, silky panties, his member nestled tightly within the fabric. He felt suddenly exposed when he realised the trousers only came down to his mid shin, his whole ankles open and his feet now uncomfortably shoved into a pair of black high heels, a large white gem on each showing a level of tacky taste. Across his shoulders was now a long, almost transparent sheer shirt with flared sleeves, the thin fabric showing his pale skin beneath. Peter took a shaky step forward, unused to walking in heels.

“What’s happened to me?” he said, taking another bewildered look at himself. “Why am I wearing women’s clothes?” Slowly, he stepped out of the machine and discovered that his bag containing his laptop had vanished, just as the rest of his clothes had. “This is crazy, I’ve got to get out of here…” Peter said, his voice trailing off as he stepped through the door and back into the light of the corridor. He felt as though he was in a dream and that he would soon wake up, confused but mercifully in his own clothing, back in the classroom. His heels clacked noisily against the polished floors. The next period was about to begin, and Peter was quietly thankful that the corridors were mostly empty. As he rounded a corner to head to the bathroom and sort himself out, he heard a wolf whistle echoing down from the corridor behind him, accompanied by a chorus of pre-pubescent laughs. Peter was far from the most popular guy in school and being caught in drag in the middle of the school day was only going to make his reputation all the worst. He moved as fast as he could in the clunky heels to the toilets, knowing that there he would be able to lock the door and take stock of the situation.

He pushed open the familiar door to the men’s room just as another student was leaving. It was his friend Carl, who was taken aback.

“Oh, sorry lady, I think you’re in the room bathroom”, he said, nervously backing away from the door.

“What? Carl, it’s me, Peter. What are you talking about?” Peter said, trying to barge past his friend. Carl broke out into a laugh.

“Did Peter put you up to this?” Carl said, leaning against in cubicle in an odd display of casualness.

“No, Carl. Don’t you recognise me?” Peter pleaded. He could see Carl’s eyes slowly wandering to his chest. “I know, it’s stupid, I don’t understand it either. I went into the old science room and all my clothes were turned into this-“ he said, gesturing at his embarrassing outfit. “I just need to get in here and sort myself out.”

“The women’s room is across the hall, ma’am”, Carl said, his eyes still firmly planted on Peter’s chest.

“What?” Peter said, still confused. “Fine, whatever!” he said, storming out of the toilet. He couldn’t believe that Carl would pretend to not recognise him and to not let him go into the toilet. At least, he thought, it was almost time to start lessons so the toilets would most likely be empty. He shut the door behind him as he entered, relieved to find it vacant. It was an almost perfect mirror of the men’s toilets across the corridor, except for the absence of urinals on the wall. Peter walked over to the sink and splashed some water in his face, hoping it would make him wake up, or at least make him more aware of whatever strange prank he had wandered into. When he rose his face out of the water and looked at the mirror, he let out another scream of surprise.

Staring back at him was a shocked woman approaching fifty, a huge mane of red hair sprouting up from her head. Peter reared back from the mirror in alarm, noticing that the woman in the reflection did the same. Catching his breath, Peter slowly moved a hand in front of himself, watching as the reflection did the same, with even the same wide-eyed expression replicated on her face, plastered with make-up. The realisation washed over Peter like a bucket of ice. “What’s happening?” Peter said, watching as the woman’s bright red lips in the mirror said the exact same. “Oh God, is that what I look like to everyone?” He stood back, trying to get a better look at his reflection. The strange outfit was tight and uncomfortable on his own body, but it suited the woman perfectly. Her large breasts were giving just a hint of cleavage in the tight vest, and the high waisted trousers made her pert rear all the more pronounced. “No wonder Carl didn’t recognise me…” Peter said, his voice trailing off. The machine in the science laboratory had changed him – or at least, it had changed how everyone viewed him. To Peter, he was still his normal self, just wearing strange clothes. To everyone else, he appeared as the MILF staring back at him through the mirror. As he examined himself, he was certain he recognised the woman he had become from somewhere. Then it hit him.

“Am I Peggy Bundy?” Peter said incredulously. Now he had the name in his head, it made perfect sense. He was the spitting image of the character from Married with Children, sultry outfit and outrageous hair to match. He pulled faces at himself in the mirror, laughing as the woman’s face was stretched and warped in turn. It was the perfect mimicry of the character, as if she had just jumped out of his parent’s TV and ended up in the mirror. At least he knew what sitcom to do the report on now, he thought sarcastically.

Peter took another look around the bathroom, even though he knew it was empty. Going back the main door, he pushed the handle of a broom through it, creating an improvised lock. He knew it wouldn’t hold anyone determined for long, but he needed privacy. Even if everyone else was in a lesson right now, he still needed to be alone. There was something that he was desperate to try out, and he would never get an opportunity like this again.

Slowly, he took the shirt off from his shoulders, seeing the bare arms of the woman now exposed to the sterile lights of the toilets. Peter draped the shirt over the edge of one of the cubicles. He had never really been attracted to older women before but having the body of Peggy Bundy now completely under his control, he was fast growing attracted to the idea of her. He wanted to see something that he knew they would never show on TV.

Turning around, Peter looked over his shoulder. He saw Peggy doing the same in the mirror, the tumbling locks of her red hair falling teasingly down her back. A scandalous thrill shot through him. Peter wasn’t sure if it was from the thrill of potentially getting caught or the unfamiliarity with the body reflected back at him. He slipped the sleeves off of the vest, pulling it out from its place tucked into the high waisted trousers. Peggy Bundy’s large breasts were in front of him, cradled in a red silky bra. He giggled uncharacteristically as he tried out a few poses, attempting to make them look larger or the cleavage more pronounced. Peter was surprised at how much fun he was having – was this why women spent so long in the bathroom?

Barely able to help himself, Peter kicked off his heels, welcoming the stability that came with having his feet firmly and flatly planted on the cold bathroom floor. He fiddled with the bulky buckle of the trousers, eventually loosening it and pulling the trousers down, kicking them off on the floor. He placed his hands on his hips, watching Peggy do the same with a flirtatious smile across her face. With a final glance at the door, still firmly shut, Peter began to trace down his exposed waist, watching Peggy’s finger, topped with a long nail, do exactly the same. Slowly, he peeled back the lacey edge of the panties, grabbing his now erect shaft. He began to work at it, locking eyes with Peggy looking back at him. Beneath her panties, it looked like the woman was furiously rubbing her clit. It was almost as if he was mutually masturbating with someone else, the middle-aged woman’s teasing of her womanhood matching Peter’s own efforts. He felt himself moan, knowing that to anyone passing the toilet, they would no doubt hear Peggy’s shrill voice in the throes of ecstasy. Somehow, Peter found that he didn’t care. If anyone were to burst in, it wouldn’t be embarrassing for him. As far as he could tell, Peter had been forgotten about. Peggy was all people saw when they looked at him, and that gave him a burst of confidence with the thrill of anonymity.

Slipping a hand around to his back, Peter found he was able to undo the hooks on the bra with ease. He quickly slid the elasticated bands off his shoulders. The sight of Peggy’s large breasts now hanging free, swinging with each subtle motion of her hands was driving him to new heights of pleasure. He had masturbated plenty of times before, but nothing was as erotic as this. Despite knowing that it was in essence his own body he was still playing with, it was like he was masturbating with someone else in the room doing the same. This body was his to explore, however he wanted. He continued to work, his free hand teasing and tweaking his nipple, watching Peggy’s face twist into a pleasured sigh as she did the same in unison. He could feel that he was close to an orgasm, a bright sheen of sweat breaking out across Peggy’s panting face, still covered in makeup.

With another gasp, he knew he was reaching a precipice. A wave of pleasure had been building, slowly but surely, and eventually it had to come crashing down. Hands trembling, he pressed on. In the mirror, perfectly replicating him, Peggy was leant back against one of the cubicles, fondling her breast and rubbing her clit with a vigour that surprised even Peter. Then, the surge reached its peak, crashing over Peter as he staggered backwards. The orgasm rocked through his body, his toes curling up as he held on tight to the bathroom fixings for support.

After taking a moment to clean himself up and dispose of the evidence, Peter turned back towards the mirror. Peggy smiled back at him, bathing in the post-orgasm glow. Hoping no one had heard, Peter slowly slipped his clothing back on, awkwardly fiddling to fit the bra back over his shoulders. Soon, he was dressed again, trying to use his fingers to comb his and Peggy’s hair back into some semblance of normality, so that it did not look like he had just experienced a mind-shattering orgasm. He took a look at Peggy in the mirror. Earlier he had been shocked, even disgusted by what he had seen staring back at him and the thought that his own body was not his own. Now that he was intimately familiar with the form that the world viewed him as, he felt more confident, standing taller as Peggy, her bust now more prominently on display. His curiosity had been satisfied. With a giggle, he blew himself a semi-ironic kiss in the mirror, heading out of the toilet.

Now that he was back in the corridors, Peter knew that he had to come up with a plan for the rest of the day. He wouldn’t be able to attend lessons – he would be too much of a distraction and besides, he doubted he would even be allowed into the classroom given how he currently looked. Beginning the long walk back to the main entrance of the school, Peter resolved to walk home and try and find a solution for his problem, as much as he was enjoying some parts of it. He didn’t want to be stuck as Peggy forever.

As he rounded another corner, he suddenly felt burning across his chest as something scorching hot splashed across him. He staggered back with a yelp.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” said the young teacher who had just emerged from the staff room, half spilled cup of coffee still grabbed tightly in his hand. “Are you all right?” he said, moving over towards Peter.

“I’m fine! It’s okay!” he said. The burning had subsided. He should have been looking where he was going, he thought. Peter looked down at the yellow vest, now with dark brown coffee stains splattered across it.

“I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you there”, said the man, smiling weakly. Peter didn’t recognise him, reasoning that he must have been one of the new teachers that had just joined the school, probably not more than in his mid-twenties. “What are you doing in school, if you don’t mind me asking?” he said quizzically. Peter felt a rush of panic as he quickly tried to come up with an answer.

“I was just seeing my son!” he lied. “He wasn’t feeling well, so I brought him some medicine. He’s better now, so I’m heading home!” he said, smiling. He only hoped that in Peggy’s high voice the words sounded as convincing as he intended.

“Who is your son?” the teacher asked. “I’ve just started, but I might know him”. Peter noticed that the man’s eyes were trying to subtly look at his now wet top with much more grace than Carl’s earlier attempts. The attention was thrilling, and he put his hands on his hips, gently pushing his bust out more. He knew he wasn’t interested in guys but flirting with this man and seeing how much control he had over him was newly exciting for Peter.

“He’s called Peter”, Peter said with a brilliant smile.

“I don’t think I know him”, the teacher said. He extended his hand out to Peter. “I’m James, by the way. Pleasure to meet you.” Peter shook his hand, noticing how strong it was.

“Peggy”, Peter said, hoping that the name wouldn’t confuse the man further. There was no glimmer of recognition on the young teacher’s face, and Peter was quietly relieved. Perhaps the man had never heard of the show?

“Again, I’m sorry about your shirt. How about I make it up to you?” he said. Peter had never been on the receiving end of male flirtations before, but it was obvious that the man was attracted to him, or at least the coy MILF he thought was standing in front of him.

“What did you have in mind?” Peter asked.

“How about a coffee? I promise I won’t spill this one”, he said with a chuckle. “That is, if your husband wouldn’t mind?”

“Oh no”, Peter said with a smile, leaning closer to the man. “There’s no man in my life. At least, not currently.” James quickly averted his eyes. Was he being too forward? It was fun exploring this body by himself, but the idea of someone else doing it was something he was desperate to try.

“Great. Shall I see you after school today?”

“That would be great. I’ll see you then, James”, Peter said.

“It’s a date!” James said as Peter walked past him, his heels clicking on the polished floor of the hallway. With every step he could feel James’ eyes watching his pert behind. As he left the school, he breathed a sigh of relief. He just had to find a way to occupy himself until the last school bell rang, then he knew he would have his curiosity satisfied once more.

========

A commission for tharzog.