Authors Note:

This is a long story, containing 10 chapters, a prologue, and an epilogue. All chapters have been submitted and should be posted within a few days of each other.

The idea for this story came from a story idea forum. Thank you janetsexy77!.

Warning:

This story contains adult content including female deflowering, exhibitionism, voyeurism, and vanilla sex. If this is not your kind of smut, please find another story.

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Agatha arrived on campus a day late, missing orientation. She ended up going to a state school because Bryn Mawr gave away her spot when she missed the deadline for tuition payments while dealing with her inheritance and trying to cope with the loss of her beloved Grandparents. Pinto, the retired Magazine editor, and her grandmother the manager of a small independent grocery store she had worked at since she was a teen. Agatha had tried to make the payment with her inheritance since her parents were too shell shocked to do anything. But, the lawyers told her it would take time to get everything in her name, and she missed the deadline.

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Using a campus map she had downloaded to her phone, Agatha drove through the campus, navigating the antique car her grandfather left her, to parking lot D. She pulled into an open spot, shut off the car, and took a moment to look around at the place she would call home for the next four years.

As she got out of the behemoth she heard a rich, slightly familiar baritone voice behind her, “Wow that’s a hell of a ride!”

“It’s a ’57 Chevy Bel Air Hardtop. Before you ask, yes, It’s got all original parts and I’m the 2nd owner,” she said in a monotone. She had grown tired of gear heads drooling over the car. Wishing that, just once, a cute guy would drool over her as they did over her car.

Without looking at the source of the strange voice behind her, she opened the trunk and began taking out her luggage, wishing that a cute guy that knew what being a gentleman meant, would come by and offer to help her. As Agatha slung a bag over her shoulder she said, “I’ll take you for a ride if you help me get moved in.” She turned, expecting to see the guy walking away. She was frozen in shock when she saw a very familiar face, “Lars?” she exclaimed, stunned and confused, embarrassment making her tongue twist itself into a clove hitch.

“Agatha?” Lars responded warmly with a giant smile, recognizing his high school classmate, and appearing genuinely happy to see her. “Where’d you get that fine ass piece of automotive history?” he asked appreciatively. His eyes darting between the car and Agatha.

Agatha smiled, completely unable to respond as her tongue finished the clove hitch and tried to add two half hitches.

“Wow,” he whistled as he gave her a long slow appreciative look, just like he did the car. “You’ve changed, changed a lot. You look…hot!”

Agatha shrunk into herself, not used to that reaction from a guy. Especially not this guy. Feeling self-conscious, she gestured toward the car, trying to get Lars to stop looking at her.

“My…um… My grandparents died…”

“Yeah, I heard. I’m so sorry,” he said, “I know how close you were to them.” He stepped closer to her, offering to hug her.

Agatha, still feeling self-conscious and uncomfortable, stepped back, “They left me the car and some money. I decided to start college looking…different.” She looked away, embarrassed. She had worked hard to change her appearance, but explaining it to someone from her past made it sound vain and silly.

Sensing her discomfort, Lars changed the subject, “You really would’ve liked graduation.”

“No biggie,” she replied, “not like I had a lot of friends or fond memories.” As she spoke, she remembered her last interaction with the Bimbo Squad when they bombarded her with urine-filled balloons. That was the same day that her grandparents died in a plane crash. Agatha’s cheeks began to burn, both from embarrassment and rage, as she tried to push that memory away.

Lars nodded in understanding. “When I heard you were coming here instead of Bryn Mawr, I made sure to get you a copy of the yearbook and the graduation video. Let’s get your stuff to your room, then while you unpack, I’ll get them.”

After several trips, Agatha and Lars were hot and sweaty but finally finished. “I’ll be right back,” Lars said as he gave her arm a friendly squeeze. Agatha began to unpack, putting her clothes away, making the bed, and making her part of the small space her own. She made a good start in getting unpacked and organized in the twenty minutes Lars was gone.

“I’m back,” Lars called as he walked into the room. Grabbing Agatha’s laptop off of the desk, he opened the CD drive and inserted a disc labeled “Grad Video”. Agatha shook her head, becoming quite annoyed that Lars insisted on screening the ceremony. She mustered up all of her courage, “Fuck graduation. I don’t give a shit.”

Lars reached up and grabbed Agatha by the wrist. “Sit down Aggie, you’ll love this,” as he guided her onto the bed next to him.

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Agatha had never been called Aggie before. After thinking about it, she realized that Aggie was a better fit for her new look. While she hadn’t gone for any surgical enhancements, she did avail herself of several medical professionals; a dermatologist for her seborrhea, a Lasik surgeon for her astigmatism, and her orthodontist for removal of her braces. Even better, Mother Nature had finally turned her body from a surfboard to a surfboard with a slight waistline and noticeable hips. Even her itty bitties had grown to be a nice handful.

Working with a cosmetologist, she learned how to properly care for her dull hair. The mousy brown was replaced by a much more flattering caramel balayage. After mastering styling tools and deep conditioning treatments she thought were only available to celebrities, she was capable of creating soft curls or a sleek blow-out at home as she pleased. She also learned about makeup and how to use the creams, powders, and brushes she once feared to create looks that flattered her features. Laser hair removal took care of the excess hair she inherited from some long-forgotten Mediterranean ancestor.

She had finished her external transformation by hiring a fashion consultant to teach her how to dress for her body; moving from hiding herself behind drab, sad, shapeless frocks, to celebrating herself through fashion.