Gender-Flu Season - Part Two

The door slams shut before the young woman can finish her sentence, her tiny figure quickly running past with her arms outstretched in front of her as if merely touching my car had left the gloves coated in whatever I was infected with.

"Thanks..." I croak, rolling my eyes as I undo my seat belt and spin around to look into the back seat. My bones creak and joints pop as I slump halfway between the two sections of my old sedan, a low groan escaping my lips as I ease down onto my elbow before grabbing the package.

Thankfully, testing for the Gender-Flu was remarkably simple. Pulling the two boxes out I grab the slender plastic trays from within, one for the disease itself and another for variants, before fishing around in the boxes for the 'mixing' tube. Hacking up a cough I spit into one of the tube, my dry and foul tasting mouth struggling to make the same deposit into the second without another round of chest rattling coughs. Capping each I shake them weakly, my wrist crackling and cracking painfully as I try to mix the tubes properly.

With a thankful sigh I pour each tube into the collection section of the tray, the lack of a dropper of any other fiddly attachment making me relieved as I clamber into the back seat to have a lay down. Shivering and shaking I slowly move to read the results, my heart skipping a beat as I read the test aloud.

"Regression... positive..." I wheeze painfully, my ribs cracking and my lungs popping like bubble wrap as I exhale deeply. My groggy mind reels at the thought, the whole thing being a struggle to piece together through the haze in my head.

My skin crawls as I worm my way back into the drivers seat, a pool of sweat being left in the back seat where my arm lay. As my head flops back into the headrest a splattering of sweat coated hair slaps against my forehead, the strands already seemingly slightly longer.

"FuUu..." I begin to groan, the sound my voice pitching up and breaking as though I was undergoing puberty causing me to slam my mouth shut. Despite it all I can't muster to strength to be angry, the almost painful draining sensation wracking my body leaving me lingering in a constant malaise.

Gender-Flu Season - Part One

My fingers grip the steering wheel of my car as I slowly creep through the packed shopping center parking lot. My knuckles practically glow white as I squeeze the supple plastic in front of me, the grip only easing as I wipe the sweat from my brow before it can drip into my eyes.

The world is a constant mild haze, my head swimming and my vision waning as I crawl the car ahead towards an empty space. My breath is ragged, each gasp leaving my throat raspy and sore as my mouth fills with the strange taste of iron and fat. Every inch of my body seems to shiver and twitch, from my bones to my muscles and even my skin I feel completely off and downright drained.

Pulling into the parking lot I spot a tiny young woman standing by the doors ahead of me, the diminutive minimum wage employee wearing a long set of rubber gloves and a mask beneath a cumbersome plastic face shield. In her shaking hands she holds a large paper bag, the two boxes inside bouncing against one another as she struggles to fight back her nerves.

As my car rolls to a stop the tony blonde races towards my car, sweat forming on her tanned forehead as she sprints past my door before opening the one to the back seat. In one swift motion she practically flings the package into the back seat, her voice quivering weakly as she goes to slam the door shut.

"Your order sir, one Gender-Flu test and one for vari..."

Swappy Seconds - Part Two

My brow furrows however as I spot an image, the extreme distance on the picture making it fairly hard to make out. Tapping at the option on screen I watch as the app freezes for a second, the trait loading on my phone as the first thing to load is the simple button reading

'Purchase - $N/A'

Section by section loads into the profile for the trait, each broken seemingly by design as garbled text rests next to each identifier. "Can't be..." I mutter as I stare at the image of Megan, the tiny and mousey blonde grad student in her mid-twenties that Fiona and I mentored. The image on screen shows the young woman held standing by a series of padded metal cuffs, the frame behind her adjusted for her tiny five foot one build.

Her delicate pale chin shines slightly in the camera flash, a rivulet of drool having been wiped away from her brainless body in order to get her ready for sale.

Wild and curly sandy blonde hair puffs out around her head and drapes down past her shoulders in a massive yellow mane, the thick curly locks framing the dainty and delicate features of her face. Pale green eyes stare ahead through a set of small half-moon reading glasses, the pupils differing in size as they fail to focus without a mind behind them. Her nose is tiny and delicate with a slight up turn, the narrow and slight feature working in concert with her delicate jawline and faint cheekbones to leave her looking down right sweet.

Her build can best be described as 'tiny', her arms and legs lacking much in the way of muscle and sporting just the barest amount of fat to leave her with a soft feminine plush. Her torso is clad in a plain white button-up business shirt and a tight cream-colored cable knit sweater, her narrow waist and modest perky chest on display beneath the warm clinging fabric. Her legs are shielded from view, a long ankle length black skirt hanging from her flared hips in an attempt at some kind of modest yet professional look.

Swappy Seconds - Part One

Sitting on the couch I kick up my feet, the coffee sloshing around in my mug as I'm forced to drop my phone and clutch at the warm ceramic to keep it from spilling. The warm sun stream in through the open kitchen window, the delightful late morning calling for me outside as I wriggle down into my cozy seat to start my day right.

It had been a bit of a habit recently, the morning task being something I had been doing since hearing about it on deep and long forgotten thread on the Swap Clinic forums. Grabbing my phone I pull open the app, the aging device struggling to play the various flashy animations of the Swap Clinic's application since the latest update.

Suggested swaps and featured traits slowly populate the screen, cropped images of hair or eyes popping up one by one along with either prices or what the person was looking for in exchange for the particular feature. I slowly scroll through them, my lips shifting from side to side in thought as I ponder each one though most are simply out of my price range.

Since losing my job I had been living off of savings, and those don't last forever. Despite this, I had been interested in visiting the Swap Clinic for quite some time. It had been what led me to search for 'Cheap Swap Clinic Tricks' online, the search eventually leading me to a thread from nearly a decade ago back when the Swap Clinic still used a website.

The thread had asked about deals at the Swap Clinic, whether the shop front ever ran sales or clearances and the like. While the thread had mostly responded no, the prices were set by the seller and the Swap Clinic had no say over that, there was one response that caught my eye.

"You could always check the Secret Section"

Lights, Camera, Change! - Part Nine

On the stage the large glass box filled with the now rather familiar fog is rolled out, the Hostess looking towards it as the studio audience roars with excitement.

"That's right..." The Hostess announces, gesturing towards the strange device. "It's time to bring one of our contestant's back home, back to their own body, and out of the running to win our fabulous grand prize" she continues, the crowd going wild at the mention of the life changing money on the other end of one contestant's journey through a new reality.

"Ms Hughes escaped early elimination for her little nap, but can she avoid it again? Maybe Mr Jones should be given his life back, I'm certain sleeping in a car can't be good for his back she laughs, referring to another contestant as the votes begin to roll in.

"We'll be back with the results... right after this commercial break."

The digits beneath each image of a sleeping stranger quickly begin to race up, those beneath my own barely squeaking into double digits as seemingly one of the more popular contestants. Racing up to over fifty percent of the vote an image of a handsome stubbly man in his mid-thirties suddenly vanishes in a bout of smog, the glass box in the center of the room glowing as they attempt to retrieve the contestant from their distant reality. 

"It's seems Mr Douglas' family life was not all that attention grabbing" the Hostess coos, a loud thump coming from the smokey glass device in the center of the stage as a tiny pudgy feminine hand presses against the glass from the inside.

New Moon, New Life - Part One

Candles flicker around the forest clearing, the thick wax cylinders holding down the crinkling blue tarp beneath me. Even with the weak flicking flames being nearly useless to read by I'm still easily able to read the sheets of paper strewn about at my feet, the pale light of moon flooding the glade light a spotlight from the heavens.

The moon seemed impossibly large, the sort of bright glow in the night sky that looked more akin the a photoshop image than reality itself. Tides were thrown off, birds cawed and crowed outside as they thought it was day time.The world seemed alomst turned upside down as the largest moon any of us had ever seen loomed overhead.

It was the event of the century, the sort of full moon that no one alive today would ever have a chance of seeing for the rest of their lives. For some it was a chance to watch the marvels of the natural world, others a time to party. However, for many around the world it was a time to tempt fate and try to weave magics while beneath the light of the fullest moon.

Some sought riches, others love, I had come out into the deep forest with a different reason entirely. Reaching for my pock I pool out a tiny vial, the dusty glass capped with gold as the viscous red liquid inside roils and splashes about in a remarkably lively state.

'Magical blood' I had been told, in part a reason it hadn't simply turned to a tried caked on brick of crimson coagulant. While I, along with practically everyone on the face of the Earth, were simply numb to the world of magic, there were those who were not only attuned to it but had the very essence of the arcane in their veins.

Re:The Body Shop - Part Seven

 

Suddenly, I'm snapped from my thoughts as a set of footsteps begin to approach. Bunny too lurches at the sound, whipping around and deleting the last message before coming to sit more like a normal human being at the sound of clinking bowls.

"You okay sweetie?" Cassandra asks softly, two bowls of very simple fettuccine in a deep red sauce resting in her hands. Clutched to her chest by her arms sit the box of wine and the cup from earlier, the young woman obviously not one to let the drinks stay in the kitchen. "You look a little flushed..." she states, pausing fro a moment as Bunny reaches out to take the bowls from her. "Thanks, but if you're warm you can take your shirt off" she states, placing the cup and the box of wine on the coffee table before wriggling it over towards the sofa.

She smirks as she sits down, her lips forming into a devilish grin as she places her hands around my waist. Her fingers wrap around the bottom of my shirt, her warm hands slinking under the sweaty cotton as she begins to stroke my tight taut abs.

"I wouldn't complain... I promise" She coos, her hazel eyes looking into my own lovingly. Suddenly she inches closer as her hands slide further up my torso, pushing me back into the sofa as she pins me down.