Public Purchase - Part Two

 "We're on the clock now" he chuckles, leaning into my room through the doorway. "You just sit tight, I'll be back soon enough once I've checked on... Ms. Aurelia Marigold-Primrose Augusta Alice-Elizabeth Daniels" Doctor Jones muses, cocking an eyebrow as he reads out the long winding name.

"That's going to be fun to write out... You sure know how to pick 'em" the doctor laughed, muttering under his breath as he leaves the room to check on the other half of the procedure.

Aurelia and I had met online several months ago, a few even before her nineteenth birthday. She, much like everyone else on the bare bones little forum and chatroom, seemed to be there mainly to chat and plumb the other members for information about themselves.

It's how most people organized Public Purchases these days, through small online communities all over the internet with some tailored to specific interests like international procedures or high-value swaps.

On this plain little forum I had watched, and vaguely participated in various threads without much ever happening. As an infrequent poster, most people already had their eyes on someone else or multiple in the threads making it hard to wedge into these conversations.

Sure, some people would begin private chats but would quickly vanish as they organized a Public Purchase with another user. Each time the final message would simply read as an alert that a purchase has been made before the account would close.

I had received a message from her after posting in a thread about role playing games, what had started as a general discussion about systems and books to buy turning into a pit of smutty erotica. Having read all sorts of fantasy books, and having seen the prominence of Dungeons and Dragons in stores and pop culture, she decided to ask more about it.

Before long the conversation had begun to paint a bit of a picture of this girl. Quirky, energetic and definitely a little scatterbrained as her train of thought would rapidly switch tracks between each message on occasion. Gardening, animals, hiking, all manner of arts and crafts as well as her work and reading would all be discussed and then some between only a few short messages.

Stories of her life out in some tourist town, living by the forest with her mom's soon started to flood in. While she would talk at length about the woods and the mountains as though they were at once mundane and magical she seemed to hold some odd fascination with city life, always marveling at hearing that I was out and things were open past nine at night.

While she occasionally brought up school it seemed to be a sore spot, with the conversation soon being turned back onto me. Where had I gone to school? Did I do well? What did I study and did I ever need to study again?

Soon we had started sending pictures, starting with the city skyline from my apartment window, with the delay after the first almost sinking what little hopes I had about the conversation. However, soon enough she started to reply with her own.

In the picture stood a beaming young redhead, her teeth seeming ever so slightly too crowded for her mouth, her soft rounded face covered in a slight shadow from the broad-brimmed straw hat resting atop her slightly curly red locks which hung past her petite shoulders. Freckles dotted her face in a light dusting, bridging across her dainty upturned nose and over her soft pinchable cheeks. Her eyes were a bright and pale green that darkened as they approached the pupil, turning into a muddy hazel as they touched the black spots in the center. Hand-made ceramic earrings hung from her earlobes, the poorly made asymmetrical accessories catching what little light they could with their turquoise glazing.

Two sets of straps rested on the young woman's narrow shoulders. One set belonged to a worn white tank top, the fraying cotton both clinging tightly to her frame while hanging loose where the material was unraveling. The second stemmed from a set of loose denim overalls, the pale blue and scuffed material being coated in all manner of dirt and mud. Through the plunging neckline of the top the beginning of two large pale and freckled mounds showed through, the thicker and heavier overalls blocking more of what law beneath.

Her arms were slender, remarkably thin yet showing some firm and fit musculature. A faint tan seemed to cover them from the shoulders down, given some slight amount of color while a coating of downy hairs caught the bright afternoon sun.

In the background stood the blurred image of another woman, an older one with equally vibrant and far more curly hair, bent over with a hand trowel in one hand and saplings in another as she tended to a garden bed. The scene behind the redhead was much the same, with homemade wooden dividers carving up various plots of vegetables and plants.

A wall of stone sat in the background, the land behind it raised to meet the top and accessible by a small set of stairs leading to the raised section. Beyond that seemed yet more garden before and wall, and another. Trees flanked the scene, with some weather-battered seating and tables barely visible a few levels up in the blurry image.

It had been hard to believe this was the person I had been talking to, the odd anonymity online leading to a sense of distrust. Aurelia had seemed to believe me wholeheartedly from the get-go, the young woman either being too trusting and naive or simply having found something to confirm who I was

For me, I needed to know more. Soon I started sending more pictures and receiving some in return, each set building my concern rather than diminishing it. Each set was shot just slightly weirdly, the perspective always being just a little off. Many showed her seated, decked out in all manner of sturdy vintage or rustic clothing and handmade accessories, but only from the waist up or were shot with fish eye lenses that warped the background.

The worry only deepened when one conversation suddenly started to turn to Public Purchases and what sort of person I was looking for, the thought that she would soon tailor her identity to match this ideal creeping into my mind. Before I could even respond the young woman had quickly flown into talking about her desire, to be free and to explore.

Life was too short to do just one thing, to experience just one place and one life.

The rant, while a little random and disjointed, seemed all too genuine. A longing to no longer live at home, to be free from school, from her work, from the tiny town that she had lived in her whole. Her description of doing one of these swaps as some grand adventure straight from her books seemed to speak to the whimsical nature of her hobbies while also reinforcing my understanding of her as impulsive beyond all else.

The long-term consequences seemed lost to her, just the thrill acting as a driving force and overriding any doubts in her mind.

Without responding to her question directly I asked for something different, just one more photo with some unique way of identifying them. A pose and showing our chat in the frame in some form or another. After a brief pause it suddenly came in, the young woman seeming to laugh as she stuck out her tongue awkwardly, closed one eye, crossed her fingers with the reflection of our conversation on the phone in some cramped bathroom mirror. The terribly awkward picture was quickly followed by something else, one short question.

 

So... are we doing this?

The conversation quickly moved to the money, as it always was going to go. She drove a hard bargain, and in all honesty, it was hard to disagree. She lived rent-free with her parents, she had a job, and she was young. I had bills to pay, no employment and would be passing over nearly an added decade to her in the exchange. The location, my degrees, and my savings were all that really balanced it from my view, though the thought of trying out being a man seemed to have a draw from the young woman as well after asking some more deeply personal questions.

We almost settled for around a thousand dollars being gifted over as a 'welcome to your new life' present. However, I still had one bargaining chip in mind. As soon as I asked about her school once again, bringing up academic performance, her tune changed.

 

How about $10,000? You can buy a nice new car, or your video games again, or something?

Still a little worried about what she was avoiding I wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. We both quickly set about organizing the paperwork, with my savings being the backing for the fees and costs behind it all. Trusts were set up, letters and emails sent, and even an announcement on the forum before our accounts went offline the morning the procedure was due to occur.

As the slow stream of medication from the drip reaches my head I find myself growing oddly relaxed, the nerves that had clung to me all day seem to drain away as I feel the icy liquid snake up through my body.

"We just need to get you prepped" mutters the remaining doctor from behind his mask, his voice huffing and muffled by the thick layers of material. "We'll wheel you to the theatre, just count back from..."

It was like a jump cut from a film, no fade-out for cut to black. Without any sense of warning or continuity I was suddenly sitting upright in some new room, or at least I thought it was.

My mind races to catch up to the sudden shift in perspective, my heart hammering so loudly and rapidly in my chest at I can feel it in my ears and fingers. A subtle reverberation echos each of the pounding rhythms, my paper gown jittering against two soft protrusions on my chest that hold it out and away from me.

Despite having been anesthetized I feel raring to go, my energy levels feeling akin to drinking a full pack of energy drink after a good night's sleep. I can't help but feel jittery and on edge, a mixture of the heady new levels of energy blending with the sudden lose of continuity in my memory leaving me worryingly anxious.

Suddenly, before I can really take stock, a bright light passes in front of my eyes. I flinch and raise my arms to block out the sudden ocular intrusion, a low chuckle soon following my hasty movements.

"Seems like you're doing just fine" muses the voice of Doctor Jones, the once tall man now towering over me as he paces around the bed. "Welcome to the world of the living."

The man pauses for a moment at the foot of the bed, looking down at the chart and back to me with a little grimace.

"Wish we could have hidden it a little better" he mutters clicking his tongue. "Maybe we could have shaved off a patch of..."

I blink rapidly as I listen to the man speak. My mind feels like it's burning, frying under a barrage of electrical pulses as I try to compose myself mentally. Each thought seems to trigger another pulse, then another and more still as pieces of my brain rapidly try to repair themselves and sync up to their new cranial playmates.

My jaw drops as I find my gaze drawn to the hand I had raised in defense of my eyes. It's tiny, normal from my view but plainly small in comparison to the bed or even the man standing not too far away. It has a subtle tan to it, days spent outside exploring or just relaxing having given the once pale flesh an ever so slightly healthy glow. The fingernails are short, some trimmed and some merely broken, with a variety of colorful varnishes coating them and largely chipping away.

Small nicks and scars dot the back of my palm and my new dainty digits, the skin ever so slightly raised and paler than the rest. Two band-aids cling to my skin as well, a heavy-duty fabric one along the outside edge of my right palm and a small cheap floral one wrapping around my index finger.

The start of a sharp squeal begins to escape my lips, the high-pitched voice quickly turning to a mere surprised but very loud squeak as I manage to shut myself up.

"Ms. Daniels" huffs the doctor as he shakes his head with a knowing grin, "This is a hospital, please keep..."

"Keep it doooooown" groans an all too familiar voice, the deep drone sounding downright exhausted as it's roused from its slumber.

Both myself and Doctor Jones turn towards the sound of the voice, my heart stopping for a beat as I spy my former self laying across the room from me and one bed to the left.

It suddenly clicks in my head. I wasn't in a new room I was in the same one just from a different angle.

My old body looks, for a lack of a better word, dead-tired. While normally pale, the color seemed to have been further drained from my face thanks to the surgery. Gone were the days of bouncing back from a major procedure like it was nothing, though that appeared to be a problem for Aurelia more so than myself for now.

As my former body stirs, the massive gangly mess of limbs spilling over the bed and kicking at blankets, I feel my heart catch in my throat. My eyes drift down slowly, soon locking to the petite set of feet that seem all too far away from the end of the bed and far closer to me than I had experienced in over a decade.

At the edge of my vision I spy not only an encroaching mass of red hair, the first curls clinging to my face and neck, but also a raised section beneath my robes that appeared to be larger than expected in stark contrast to my legs.

My hand, quivering like a leaf in the breeze, slowly being to approach my new chest. The large plush shelf seems to sag over so slightly, each one attempting to naturally spill to the sides of my chest in some faint soft teardrop.

Before I can reach them with my curious fingers however I feel a hand tap my foot, the sudden touch causing me to help and retract my tiny leg as I look up at Doctor Jones.

"Not here" he hisses under his breath, his eyes moving to the other bed as he nods at my former self. "Later."

We both watch as my old self heaves up from the bed, Doctor Jones rushing over to the teenage girl turned nearly thirty-year-old man as he threatens to fall from the mattress.

I spy a patch of shaved hair around the back of my former body's head, the rest of the hair shaved down to nearly match in an effort to make it look like a bad haircut. In the more extreme patch I notice a small scar, the tiny remnants of where my gray matter had been pulled out and from where Aurelia's had been crammed inside.

Leaning against the doctor my old body practically falls back to sleep, his eyes hanging nearly closed as he slumps in his seat. "The... What's wrong with me?" He whines softly, taking a deep breath to heave himself into a seated position. "Why am I so..."

"Old?" I chuckle weakly, my tittering voice coming out closer to a girlish giggle.

"You just had surgery" Doctor Jones interject warmly, patting the newly minted man in the back. "You're going to feel..."

Before the doctor is able to finish his words of encouragement however my former body seems to snap awake. While still hunched, bracing himself against his own legs, Aurelia's eyes shoot open in awe at the body beneath her.

"Holy... Shit...holy shit...holyshitholyshitholyshit..." He begins to wheeze, his hands gliding over his new body as he shambles to his feet. The doctor grips the man for support, the gown billowing down as I get a good view of my former backside.

The train of panicked mutterings is only broken as Aurelia stands on her own, swaying a little from the lingering aesthetics as well as from some sense of vertigo.

"Woah..." She croons, beaming much like in her first picture to me. "I'm so... so... I'm big!" She chirps delightedly, her hands soon moving to her groin with no small amount of expediency. Before Doctor Jones can stop her she has her hands around her newest organ, the beaming expression shifting to mild confusion as well as a lecherous grin.

"Mr. Hughes, please..." Huffs Doctor Jones, rolling his eyes as though he sees this more often than not.

"This feels... Is this big?" Aurelia muses, obviously struggling with the scale of things like I was. "Two hands seems... But that's... I guess they're much bigger hands so..."

With some gentle yet firm guidance from Doctor Jones, Aurelia is soon quickly forced to place her new hands by her side, her gaze soon turning to me as her pallor grows paler still.

It's like she's seen a ghost, her jaw dropping as she takes her first few staggering steps in her exhausted new form.

"So..." I squeak nervously, shifting awkwardly in my seat as I watch my former body grow larger and larger in my field of view. "I guess we..."

"Did it? Yeah we did!" Booms the quirky young woman turned towering man, her new voice echoing down the halls as she quickly winces at the volume she can now produce.

I begin to move beneath the scratchy blankets of the hospital bed, my sensitive and oddly smooth skin feeling more irritated by the coarse nature of the bedding than I remembered from mere hours ago.

Before I can swivel myself to the side of the bed I feel a hand clap down on my shoulder, the size difference sinking in as my eyes go wide.

"Thank you soooo much" Aurelia coos, grinning ear to ear. "I promise, I'm take good care of this thing from now on" she exclaims, her eyes drifting momentarily to her new groin with lingering excitement. "My own apartment, money for travel, and no one's going to boss me around looking like... Well..."

Trailing off she stands up straight, or at least as straight as she can without wobbling from the massive additional height she had yet to learn to handle.

"I'm glad you're..." I mewl softly, wriggling a little to try and shift Aurelia's new hand from my shoulder but to little success.

"Mom and Meredith won't be upset about me wanting to move or with school... No school! Fuck that's so perfect" She chirps excitedly, not really listening to what I have to say in the moment. "I hated that place, being held back was so..."

"You were held back?" I mutter, final slipping free as I feel Aurelia's grip loosen.

My former face turns from excited beaming to a sly and cheeky grin, my former bright blue eyes looking anywhere but directly at me. "Cat's out if the bag I guess" Aurelia chuckles nervously, a hand moving to rub the back of her neck identically to how I always used to when nervous. "I failed some subjects and... well now you can pass 'em all and it'll be fine and..."

Sighing a little as I swing my legs over the bed I stare at the floor beneath me. It seems so much further away, the dangling slender yet athletic legs reaching far less further down than I was used to.

"We should probably..." I begin to mutter, only to be cut off by Aurelia.

"Get dressed?..."