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I looked closely at the intricate filigree design, and I thought of the girl whose locket it had been. Outward, so happy and joyful, inward, tortured and miserable. Such a dichotomy for one person to endure, and in the end, it had destroyed her. I realized suddenly that I had much in common with Linda. My own internal conflict was doing to me what Linda's had done to her.As I sat silently, thinking of Linda, Kelly took the locket from my hands. Without saying a word, she unclasped the chain, and then, over my feeble protests, she fastened the chain around my neck.I still can't believe what I see. Linda aged gracefully, I think. I look down and see some minor sag to her large bosoms. Not bad for her age. No wrinkles or crows' feet. I see the softness of her skin. I see tears of joy in her eyes. My eyes. Somehow, the locket has changed me. Once more, I'm in Linda's body, standing in front of the mirror in my apartment, looking at the results of the miraculous. ”“And?” I asked as I reached behind me to unhook my bra.“LOLA!” I slipped it off my shoulders, shuddering as my dark-red nipples came into view. Georgia was ready. She peeled off the first of those wide, pink stickers and suck it over my right nipple, covering it and my areola. I gasped as the contact. Her finger pressing it down sending a hot shudder down to my pussy.It was called a pastie. Something strippers used to wear long ago when even those dens of inequities possessed some shame. Now the college was talking about having stripper classes as a new club, equivalent to the cheer squad or the volleyball team. Georgia peeled off the second pastie and covered my other nub.“LOLA!”President McTaggart frowned. The Irish futa craned her neck, struggling to see my flesh as the heat swelled and swelled in my pussy. I drew in a deep breath and then hooked my fingers into the waistband. I couldn't control how my body reacted, only what I did with those impulses.I stepped out of my panties..
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