Point of View, by Bolivar Q. Shagnasty and the Composer
Disclaimer: We don't own EVA. We don't even really own this fic.
Chapter 2: A Good Education
"You know, Asuka, it's a good thing you aren't on the track team...if
you can't even catch *me*..."
Asuka scowled. "You little wimp, when I do catch you, you're gonna wish
you'd never been born!"
Misato turned around, now running backwards. "Are you kidding? After
that time you kissed me, I already wish I'd never been born!"
Asuka's face darkened with rage. "You conceited, arrogant--" Words
failed her, and she put on another burst of speed. Misato turned
around, forced to actually put some effort into keeping ahead of the
enraged redhead.
Misato silently cursed her new leg muscles, weak and underdeveloped, odd
for a boy that always ran away. She kicked in harder, relying on her
mental training more than the body's own training.
Misato looked over her shoulder again and saw an angry fist flying.
Quickly, she tucked and ducked under the blow, again, not counting for
her new body's lack of training. The duck quickly tripped into a
stumble and a roll. and tumble.
Misato gingerly sat up from the sidewalk, looking up at Asuka, standing
triumphantly over her prey.
"I hope you're up for a world of hurt, boy." She cracked her knuckles.
Misato smirked. "Like getting pounded by you would be anything new."
She paused. "By the way, pink isn't your colour."
"Pink?" Asuka blushed, and pushed her hands down on her skirt. "You
pervert!" She pulled back a foot and let fly a kick at Misato's head.
This time, Misato was ready for it, and grabbed Asuka's ankle. "Pink
and lace, even."
Asuka's face was turning pink to match. Misato released her ankle, and
picked up her bookbag. "Now that we're done with the fun and games,
we'd better get to class before the bell."
Asuka watched the boy carelessly walking towards the school. Her mouth
hung open, and her eyes were wide. "What the heck has gotten into him?"
***
Ritsuko sat on the edge of her desk, cup of coffee in hand . Her eyes
carefully studied the screens before her, displaying data recorded from
the previous night. "There," Ritsuko said, pointing at the screen, "at
11:47, a spike in AT fields..." She peered closer, taking a sip of
coffee. "Not like an angel.... what could it be?"
"You're too concerned about this." Fuyutsuki put a hand on her
shoulder. "You've been at this for ten hours now. When did you last
sleep?"
Ritsuko put the mug down on the table and rubbed her eyes. "I guess
you're right. If it isn't an angel, it's not a priority."
Fuyutsuki smiled softly and nodded. Just then, the phone rang.
Fuyutsuki picked up the receiver. A few seconds later he put his hand
over the mouthpiece. "Ritsuko, it's Captain Katsuragi calling in sick."
Ritsuko groaned and took the phone.
"Hung over again?"
"No." Misato definitely didn't sound herself. "I've come down with
something. Cold or such. I barely drank anything last night."
"You know how many sick days you have left?" Ritsuko questioned the
captain. Her own patience worn thin from the long hours of analysis and
darkly brewed caffine.
"Umm... well..." Misato stammered, more like a nervous child than her
usual stumbling at such a question.
"Let me put it this way." Ritsuko stood up. "If you get sick again
between now and Christmas, the odds of your getting a raise will sharply
decline. As in, to zero."
"It's not like I want to be sick! I mean, we probably have...lots of
important stuff to do...right?"
"Since you're sick, this'll be a good time to see a doctor. And we'll
have that illness on record. Assuming that the doctor finds any
such." Ritsuko smacked the handset down on the cradle before Misato
could respond, and sighed. "Well, with any luck, I can get a couple of
hours sleep before she gets here. It'll give her time to recover from
her hangover, too."
***
Shinji stared at the handset. "Well, I get a few hours to think this
through" he mused. He stared around the bedroom in disgust. "You'd
think that a teenaged boy lived here, and the adult woman in my
room..." He smirked. "Well, I guess it's true at the moment. Just in
the wrong bodies..." Shinji resigned himself into the task: cleaning
Misato's pigsty. "I'll be right back" Shinji said to the mess, quickly
going to the kitchen to retrieve a couple of trash bags. ( Luckily,
since he was largely responsible for cleaning the rest of the house, he
knew precisely where those were. He pulled the plastic sheets from the
box... one, then two... then glanced back at the open doorway, and
pulled five more.
He passed a laundry basket - empty, surprisingly - on his way back to
the room, and kicked it through the bedroom door. The basket slid
through the doorway. Shinji snorted, somewhat impressed at the extra
leg length he'd gained literally overnight.
"I always wished I was taller... but I could've done without the
breasts..." Shinji muttered.
He began gathering empty beer cans, old takeout wrappers and used
magazines, stuffing them into clear plastic bags. Occasionally, he'd
come across a particularly fouled wrapper, and toss it into the one
green garbage bag he'd brought. The laundry basket soon started to fill
with cut-off shorts, jeans, panties, and a few bras, much to Shinji's
embarassment. Shortly, he had four bags filled and set outside the
door.
Finally, with the floor relatively clear of debris, he grabbed a broom
and started clearing away the dust, soil and scraps of paper too small
to recycle. He flipped up one corner of the futon, and recoiled in
shock and embarassment. Laying there was a strange plastic device,
cylindrical and bright green. The shape was eerily familiar, and the
on/off switch on the back certainly didn't help.
He dropped the mattress, covering up the device, and took a step back.
"What the heck is she doing with that in here?"
A moment's reflection made it obvious what she used it for, and he felt
his face burning.
The thoughts and images burned in his mind, making other places feel
slightly hot as well. "Cold shower...they always say a cold shower
helps...right?" He turned and stumbled towards the bathroom.
He peeled the tank top over his head, trying to ignore the way the
fabric caught at his nipples, and dropped it on the floor. As he did
so, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror...and paused.
His eyes widened, giving Misato's face a surprised look that he'd never
seen there before. Despite all the peeks at her cleavage that she
seemed to enjoy giving him, he'd never seen her topless. His heartbeat
pounded in his ears as he studied the image before him, from her large
dark nipples to the ugly scar that ran across her belly.
Curiosity soon won against shock as Shinji placed a single digit against
the scarred skin. It felt like skin, nothing really surprising about
the scar.
"Wait...I have Misato topless and I'm touching her scar?" Shinji
questioned out loud. "Man, Asuka is right: I am a coward!"
He moved his hand, almost fearfully, to touch the left breast along the
underside, and gasped at the sensation. It was warm...soft. The blush
on Misato's face in the glass grew a shade darker as Shinji pressed his
fingertips against the soft flesh and gave a slight squeeze. "Ooh..."
Shinji gasped in Misato's voice, almost unprepared from the sensation,
not quite sure about the give. His only other experience with breasts
was with Rei.
That incident with Rei played back in Shinji's mind again... It seemed
clumsy, embarassing, more to him than her, and utterly the opposite of
what sexy was supposed to be. He remembered the many nights he tried to
recall the images and tactile sensations of that clumsy encounter for
stimulation for relief after an explosive encounter with Asuka, only to
not find relief. Studying Rei's body was more like studying anatomy.
Misato's body was like studying the history of sex.
He glanced down at his newly inherited attributes and couldn't help but
be slightly unnerved from the point of view he has been given. He
watched as both of his new hands slowly grabbed the breasts from
underneath again and lifted them up. "This feels strange," Shinji
stated, feeling the weight of them in his palms, and the sensation of
Misato's - his! - large breasts being cradled..
His curiousity mounting, he slowly traced the curve of the breast and
brushed the nipple, sending a shiver through Shinji. "God..." he
gasped, nearly turning away. "These are... REALLY sensitive..."
The beating of his heart echoed in his ears. A swirl of sensations and
emotions, at once quite familiar and completely alien, flowed through
his mind like a rain-swollen river. He gasped again, and his hand
tightened reflexively, but the pain of the bruised nipple barely
registered.
A warm fire starting to build where before a pent up frustation was far
more familiar. Shinji glanced downward, past the valley of firm flesh
to the pair of shorts, almost missing the familiar bulge he'd once see.
He hesitated, then slid a hand down his belly, across the shorts, and
cupped his crotch. He gasped again, both from the pleasure of the
contact and the shock of discovery. More than even seeing this body's
breasts, the smooth curved flesh under his fingers drove it home that at
the moment, he was completely female.
"No..." Shinji whispered, shutting his eyes. He had to make a
decision: should he go further with his explorations, or should he try
to maintain whatever dignified image he had of his Guardian's body?
But while his body was adult, his mind was still that of a teenage boy.
It was no contest. Seconds later, Shinji started pulling the shorts
down.
The elastic waistband stretched, but only so far, and bound against his
hips. He was forced to wiggle, pushing down first one side, then the
other. He caught sight of his reflection, and his breath caught anew;
the motion would be awkward in his old body, but on this one, was
undeniably enticing.
Soon, the band passed the widest part of the hips and slid down the
thighs, pooling around Shinji's feet. He gasped for breath, then
glanced up again at the mirror.. "Wow..."
He widened his stance, his new thighs opening to display what fortune
has gifted him with. Misato's cunt was framed from above with a small
patch of dark hair, neatly trimmed. Shinji wondered in the back of his
mind if he was going to stick around inside this body long enough to
have to maintain the trim, but that thought soon pushed itself aside.
Soon, hungry hands started roaming the soft, curved flesh, fingers
running through the neatly-trimmed bush. It continued to astound him
how sensitive this body was; the lightest pressure sent waves of
pleasure through him.
The fingers dipped lower, pressing against the folds. Shinji gasped,
this sensation near impossible to compare to any other he knew before.
With uncharacteristic courage, Shinji pressed the fingers deeper, a gasp
molding into a moan.
"Why does this feel so good?" Shinji whispered, fingers exploring his
new warm crevice. His free hand slowly drifted up to the left breast
and started a subtle squeezing rhythm. Shinji didn't know what
compelled this, but was pleased with the results, the pleasure building
through him increasing.
The two fingers within continued to press and wiggle, surrounded by a
warm, wet sensation. Shinji's breath became heavy, labored as he
continued down this path of gratification. He glanced up to the mirror,
watching Misato's body please herself, knowing it was actually him.
Some part deep within pondered who exactly was the puppet in this
relationship as he pressed the fingers deeper.
Shinji pressed deeper, penetrating before what he could only imagine,
the walls of the bathroom echoed Shinji's moans and grunts as he drew
closer and closer to the finale.
Suddenly, Shinji felt a wave of immeasurable pleasure sweep through his
entire being. He felt muscles twitch and spasm, the sound of a
satisfied scream, and the haze of unbelievable ecstasy. What seemed
like an eternity passed, the haze started to lift. Shinji found himself
laying on the tile floor of the bathroom, breathing hard, watching
Misato's breasts heave with each lungful of air, her skin now gleaming
lightly with a thin film of sweat.
Slowly, he sat up, the sensation of boobs jiggling brought both hands up
to the bouncy treasures, cradling them. A small squeeze sent another
shiver through his spine, the familiar feeling starting again. The
sensation brought to mind only one question: "My god... I can do it
again without waiting?"
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