As the sickening motions come to an end I watch as the protective blanket is removed. For a moment I'm blinded, the drastic shift in light that floods my new room making it impossible to see. I feel the room populate itself around me, the empty space I had been floating in turning into something new.
After a few moments I manage to come to my senses, my gaze landing on a clean room with a small single bed covered in cute plushies, moving boxes and large black leather boots resting in the corner.
As I try to look around I find myself locked in place, my back stuck to the so some unseen wall as I'm left to stand idle and in a ready position. Thankfully I'm able to look into my reflected world for the time being, the sound of light footfalls racing away being the only indication of who had freed me from the all-encompassing darkness.
I find myself staring into a tiny white room, sloppily painted cinder blocks making up the walls in a fashion that screams 'Cheapest and Easiest to Clean'. The ground is coated with a short thin wiry navy blue carpet, the similarly cheap flooring both coating the floor of the room and leading out the open door into the hallway beyond.
To the left of my prison sits a wardrobe, flimsy particle board with a slightly scratched and scraped light brown veneer showing a lot of use over the years. Boxes pile around it, creeping from beyond the front doors of the wardrobe where they sit haphazardly to between the wardrobe and the front door where they appear far more organized. While only a single box is open, the empty container resting next to the bed, the rest are sealed shut with only a bit of cursive script labeling what lays within.
The bed itself is equally as cheap as the rest of the room, the hill of colorful plush toys sitting atop it likely being worth several times more than the bed itself. The frame is made from metal, a glossy black coating covering the legs and the small arch at the head of the bed. The frame itself looks worryingly light and insubstantial, like a firm shake could cause the whole thing to come crashing down. Coarse white sheets cling to the firm-looking mattress, a dark blue duvet laying atop it, the bed itself having been professionally made prior to this apparent moving day.
The pile of plush toys stares back at me ominously, each one appearing to have been carefully placed into the pile as to prevent it from tumbling to the floor. All manner of soft and cuddly toys are a part of the pile, from rather standard semi-realistic animal plushies to more colorful and exaggerated varieties. The occasional anime, gaming, or just nerdy plush rears their head from the soft and cuddly mound, with my eyes quickly noticing a D.Va and her mech along with a Rwby plushie immediately gaining my attention.
Beside the particleboard door leading to the empty corridor sits a pair of large black leather boots. Shimmering silver buckles and zips cover the supple dark leather, the huge base of the set making them appear to be closer to platforms than a standard pair of shoes.
"I'll be fine mom" whines a squeaky voice in the distance, the footfalls from before racing back towards me before I suddenly lurch into motion.
I suddenly find myself tripping of my reflection of the boots as I take a rush and impatient step, strands of honey blonde and black hair dangling in my face as I'm forced to brace myself against the flimsy bed-frame.
"I know sweetie, I know" coos a concerned voice from the hallway, another set of footsteps quickly approaching the room as the worried feminine voice calls out.
"Then why are you...urgh...still fussing and shit?" groans the squeaky voice from before, my lips moving and mirroring her words as my proverbial heart sinks. I'm forced to push myself up and off of the bed frame before quickly racing to check the plushie pile, a set of incredibly slender and petite pale hands with glossy black nail polish having replaced my former meaty masculine mitts.
Patting the pile carefully I find myself blowing the loose strands of blonde and black hair to the sides of my face, each return to their position right below my ears. With a forced sigh of relief I stand back up to my full height, a twinge of concern rocking me as I find the bed resting a little too high for someone as tall as I should be.
From my new position I can see the very edge of the mirror in the corner of my vision, the sight mahogany frame making me beg inside for this stranger to turn just a little further so I could get a better look.
I know I can move, at least if I really wanted to, but the thought of someone noticing the mystery figure moving independently in the mirror causing me to just go with the flow. Stacy had said she'd find me a good body, and sure we didn't leave on the best of terms but I'd just have to trust her in upholding that promise
"I'm just...this is your first time out of home sweetie pie, and..." the nurturing voice states again, her sweet and wholesome tones coming from some place far closer.
I feel my head tilt back, a loud groan escaping my lips as the dainty hands run through my hair.
"Don't call me that here mom, what are people gonna think?" whines the squeaky voice, her tone filled with frustration as she and I pivot to face the hallway.
"They'll think your mother loves you" coos a smiling woman in the doorway, her cherry red lips twisting into a warm smile as her pudgy hand comes to rest on her wide hips.
If I could swallow hard I would, the sight of the rather rotund and doughy woman in her forties looking down at me shaking me to my core. She couldn't be more than 5'5" and yet here I was looking up at her and her down at me.
Her blonde hair hangs a little below her shoulder, the darker honey-hued strands appearing wild. Her wrinkled and pudgy face follows suit, with a simple coating of red lipstick coating her lips while the rest of her face remains without any adorning make-up. Sweat dots her brow, her breathing a little heavy after whatever she had been doing prior to this conversation. She looks down at me with a pair of steel-gray eyes, the cold color somehow filled with warmth as she looks directly at me.
She is dressed in a simple gray t-shirt, an old logo on the front having worn away over countless washes. Her bottom half is covered by a pair of sweatpants, her thick thighs and bulging behind being surprisingly visible despite the loose material.
Her arms and legs carry on the fame doughy facade as the rest of her body, with deep stretch-marks being visible in the shaking flab of her upper arms. Her chest is downright overwhelming, the massive mounds sagging heavily after decades of strain and the added pressures of the added weight and child-rearing.
Despite all this it feels like a pale imitation, a shimmering after image in my mirrored world compared to a living breathing person. Her form ripples and shifts slightly in a mercurial fashion, her form only holding its shape under what feels like sheer force of will.
Her sweet, albeit sassy, smile fades as she looks behind me. "Pumpkin, did you really need to unpack that first? I know you love Mister Flumbles but..."
"I don't love them mom!" the voice whines, my mouth moving with the words. "It's a collection, I'll get rid of it eventually but I have to keep it together for now...duh."
"Right, sorry Pumpkin" snickers the older woman, looking over the boxes before looking over the opposite side of the room to the front door. "I think that...everything..." she says with a sniffle, trying to keep her emotions in check. "Are you sure about that though? You don't have much space in..."
"Don't call me that either, god, I have a name" grumbles the voice, her own gaze shifting towards the mirror as our eyes finally meet.
Staring at me and I at her I watch as the downright tiny and petite young woman approaches me, my mirrored form walking closer to her despite the mirror I am imprisoned meaning that movement meant next to nothing.
A shaggy mass of honey blonde hair hangs about of ghostly pale head at various highly-styled levels. A straight line of a fringe rests above her eyebrows, a split down the center separating her blonde hair from a dyed black portion. As the fringe comes to an end her hair drapes down around her ear, these portions framing her cute face in a stark black and blonde contrast. The black hair ends there however, the remainder of her ruffled hair returning to her natural blonde as it hangs just shy of her shoulders at its lowest.
Her eyes are the same steely gray as her mother, the set seeming downright ice cold on her compared the sweet woman by the door. Her blonde eyebrows are neatly plucked, a line having been shaved mid-way through one of them in a stylistic manner. A small upturned nose rests at the center of her face, a shimmering black ring running through her septum and causing no small amount of rosiness around the pierced area. A set of soft plush pink lips smirk at me as she approaches the mirror, her eyes darting over the towering mirror and herself with obvious joy. Her face is positively impish, narrow and slight features combined with a narrow chin and jawline leaving her looking almost fae-like.
Her body is extremely slender, the only other word to describe her being delicate. Her arms and legs are as pale as her face, the stick-like limbs lack much in the way of muscle and only having a small layer of feminine plush to them. Her chest is covered in a loose black tank top with thin straps resting on her narrow shoulders, her midriff on full display beneath the small yet in-arguably comfortable-looking piece of clothing. Her chest is surprisingly large, though that may merely be that it looks large on her narrow and slender frame.
Her exposed tummy is extremely flat, her ribs being slightly visible along with her hips bones. Her lower half is covered in a torn and heavily worn pair of black shorts, the denim clinging to her thighs and outlining her firm pert behind extremely well. Decorative chains hang from the belt looks, thick chunky links accompanying tiny and impractical ones in a manner that leaves me wondering if any are actually connected to her wallet or phone.
Worst of all is her height. Having spent so long with Stacy in my 6'4" frame I had become used to looking up at her from the mirror at a certain angle. While I couldn't be too sure without a tape measure, this young woman had to be around 5'1" maybe an inch either way.
"Of course I'm sure about it" grumbles the spunky short stack, glaring at her mother sourly in the mirror. "I mean it's just so...so..." she continues, reaching out to run her hand over the frame. "Cool"
As her fingers brush against the ornate wood I feel my heart beat again, my breath forcing its way back in as I continue to mirror the tiny blonde. I could scream, swearing up the wall at Stacy for ditching me here. Did she make a mistake? Did this girl steal the mirror from the intended target.
As I feel my heart rate quickly come to match the blonde's I notice a faint stream of light leaving the mirror. The snaking shimmering energy quickly connects to the blonde, burrowing into her before stopping as a solid trail is made between the mirror and herself. The pane ripples, the barrier keeping me inside falling away as I'm finally able to leave but only for a single destination.
"But you've always been my spooky pumpkin" mutters the older woman, her dejected tone making my heart break. "Okay...Crystal...Do you need any help unpack..."
"Nah, I'll be fine" the blonde blurts out, cutting off her mother as I find myself spinning around to yet again face the hollow reflection of the rotund older woman. As I'm forced to walk back towards the door I find myself glancing at the boxes, the words blurring in my fake reality as I pass by them.
"Oh...alright...well..." the older woman mutters, her face shifting and her lip quivering as she fights back tears. "I could go get you something for lunch? Maybe we could..."
"Moooooom, I just want to get settled in...alright?" the blonde whines, pausing in the doorway as her mother takes a few steps back.
"I...okay...if you need anything you know you can just call me or your father...well send you some spending money and...and..." she whimpers, finally breaking down as she smoother the short blonde with a series of heavy wet kisses.
"Mom...mom!...Moooooom!" cries the blonde, wriggling and struggling to get the larger woman off of her given her pathetically weak arms. After a brief few moments the woman relents, pulling away as the blonde wipes the sloppy kisses and the accompanying lipstick off.
"I'll call you soon sweetie. Oh it's so exciting for you, you're going to have a wonderful time" the older woman coos, wiping a few tears from her eyes as she tries to rebottle those emotions.
"Urgh, you don't have to call" groans the blonde, taking a hold of the door as she slowly closes it as a message for her mother to leave. "Bye mom" she drones, her tone screaming that she was fighting back an eye roll.
"Okay, okay...bye pump...Crystal" the older woman coos, making a series of kissy noises as the door closes. "Love you"
For the next few hours, I'm forced to help the brooding blonde unpack the mirrored copy of her room. For a while she simply potters around giddily, bouncing excitedly as she moves between sitting on her bed and sitting on her computer chair that had been sitting just out of sight for the longest time.
Her excitement ends rather quickly as she's forced to unpack the boxes she and her mother had carried in, given the sweaty state of her mother more so her work than the blondes. Each box is carefully packed, with clothing neatly folded and miscellaneous items covered in solid amounts of padding.
"Urgh, she went through my clothes?" grumbles the blonde as she notices the folded clothing, obviously having packed them in a less tidy manner originally.
Eventually, progress is made. A large desktop computer is set up just out of view, a burst of purple and red LEDs signifying it's powering on. Several posters for a variety of games and anime are slowly unpacked, each one inspected before being placed back into the back in an embarrassed fashion. Old secondhand pots, pans, plates, and bowls are bundled on the floor for destinations unknown as the blonde sags at the thought of cooking all her own meals.
Quite a few boxes appear dedicated to clothing, each carrying a certain theme. Large numbers of dark and edgy clothing is pilled into the wardrobe, pleated mini-skirts with embroidered crosses, high waisted black skirts with crisscrossing white lines, torn and ratty black skinny jeans, fishnet stockings, tank tops, sheer vert tops, lacy lingerie, and even a leather jacket making their new home in the closet.
Next comes a series of items that I could only call 'a-dork-able' or overly cutesy. A large oversized Kingdom Hearts shirt, a comfortable-looking panda onesie, tights emblazoned with blushing cartoon skulls, pumpkins, or cats, a large oversized hoodie, various shirts with cute cartoon animals, pink stripey pajama pants, various sets of cutesy thigh high socks, and a set of stretchy blue gym shorts to name a few.
The last box is thankfully filled with shoes, the wardrobe already filled to bursting with her clothes. Sneakers in a variety of colors with many having been scribbled on, more black boots, flats, heels, and some truly scary-sized platforms making their way into the base of the wardrobe.
By the time she is done the room is largely starting to come together. While it still looks like she freshly moved in it at least looks like she has moved in.
After a brief collapse from exhaustion in her bed, swimming giddily on her plushie pile more happily than I had seen her the whole time she had been in the room, I watch as she pulls her phone from her pocket. After reading something she groans, slowly dredging herself back up to her sock-covered feet as she trudges back towards her boots discarded by the door.
It's only at this point that I notice the time, the day having flown by as the room is lit only by the harsh fluorescent light in the ceiling. Fidgeting slightly she eventually manages to climb into her boots, adding another few inches to her height, before zipping them up and racing out of the room.
As the door slowly closes I watch the darkness begin to encroach around me, my last sight before becoming lost to the mirror being the thin trail of light linking the blonde to the mirror.
After who knows how long floating in the inky blackness I feel the world tumble back into place around me, my head spinning as I try to get my bearings. The room is still nigh pitch black, the only light coming from the crack in the door as it slowly opens.
It was still the middle of the night, the cloudy sky keeping much light from breaking through the drawn curtains.
I watch and mirror as Crystal comes staggering into the room, sweat dripping from her as the flimsy black tank top clings tightly to her perky chest. Sighing with relief she fumbles her way out of her boots, her staggering stride making it hard to tell if she was tired, drunk, clumsy, or some mixture of the three. She sluggishly wriggles free from her shorts letting them hit the floor as she face plants onto the bed, her arms quickly scooping up plushies and bundling them around her in one giant cuddle.
She barely manages to kick off one of her socks before she stops moving, guttural nasal snoring filling the room at a shockingly high volume for such a small young woman.
However, unlike when Stacy had slept in my body after stealing it my world doesn't fade. Instead I'm left wide awake, my heart beating and slowing down as does Crystal's as she doses off. With surprising ease I find myself able to move under my own free will, sitting up on the mirrored bed before stumbling and staggering towards the rippling barrier between us.
With a deep breath I reach out, stepping across the threshold with gritted teeth at what was about to unfold.
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