Retirement Restart - Part Seven

 

Looking down at the box I see what appears to be a tight black top, a white pleather skirt, a pair of black flats, and a new driver's license.

I quickly snatch up the small piece of plastic, bringing it up to my eyes as I inspect the card in as much detail as I can muster. On the front is a small picture of my new self, though I appear to be several years younger in the photo. I'm smiling sweetly at the camera, my hair a little longer as it reaches down past my shoulders and off the image. My chest is on prominent display, sitting up like a milky white shelf inside a colorful and almost transparently thin dress. It looks like my breasts must have sagged ever so slightly with age, or perhaps with the pressure of having fed two children I never really fed myself.

I gasp as I read the name, my stomach turning as I begin to notice more differences;

Name: Jayde Moon Lavender Hughes 

D.O.B: 13/05/1984

My jaw drops as I read the name, wondering whether that was what my new parents had called me or if this fictitious self had gotten a name change. Knowing the Swap Clinic it was likely my mom had found some woman wanting a more mundane name and traded away my own in exchange for this.

I slam the card back down on the boxes, yelling out in frustration at how much I had my own identity stripped from me.

"I...I need..." I mutter, trying to think of how to fix all this but finding no answers. "I...I should at least...get dressed first" I groan, hanging my head as I look at the clothes.

As I slowly bring my hand back to my side I return to the task at hand. With a pained wince I reach out, grabbing the flimsy v-neck top my Aunt had retrieved for me. While I was slender as she had been, or at least when she was younger, I had far more voluminous assets. I look down at the top in horror as I struggle to imagine how I would even fit inside the damn thing.

Pulling the thing over my head is the easy part, the material easily stretching as I tug at it. However, the moment I reach my chest it becomes a definite struggle. I yelp and hiss in discomfort as the elastic cotton-like material grinds against my exposed nipples. The dark color of the shirt appears to grow lighter and lighter as the material stretches more and more, revealing more of my pale skin as the weave in the fabric begins to separate and reach its limit. With one last heavy tug I pull the shirt over my trim stomach, releasing the bottom hem as it snaps to me and tightly hugs my curves.

Looking down at myself my breath catches in my throat. The v-neck was positively outrageous, a cavernous valley of heaving jiggling flesh that threatens to pop free at any moment.

Tears begin to well up in my eyes again as I shift my shoulders from side to side, watching as my expanded chest follows along before wobbling well after I stop.

Wanting to get this over with as soon as possible I snatch up the white pleather skirt, gagging a little as I feel some unknown sticky substance on it. Against my better judgment I bring it to my face, sniffing at the aged fake leather in search of what had been spilled on it. A faint mixture of alcohol, something sweet, and a stomach-churning salty musk I can only hope is sweat hits me like a freight train

"Damn it Stacy" I hiss, using my Aunt's old name out of habit.

With a quivering lip I begin to unzip the side of the plain white skirt, lowering it down as I move to stand in it. As I lean down to pull it up my slender hairless legs I squeal in shock, my chest hanging low and causing me to topple into the pile of boxes in front of me. I cry out in pain and discomfort as my massive chest presses into the boxes, the pillowy flesh turning from a soft cushion to painful pressure in a matter of seconds.

"Ouch ouch ouch..." I hiss, quickly heave myself up from the boxes using my weakened shaking arms. Tears begin to roll down my cheeks as I more carefully begin to wriggle the skirt up my legs, trying my best not to have any more painful falls.

"Stupid mom...and Stacy...How could they make me...me..." I whine, feeling the warm tears fall from my soft supple cheeks.

My legs act as little impediment to getting the skirt into place, my flared hips causing me to struggle more than anything when it comes to getting dressed. As I zip up the skirt I'm forced to really tug at the small tag of metal as it pulls the fake leather tightly around my hips. With each strained tug my breasts jiggle in my top causing me to weep evermore as the pain worsens in my back. Eventually, with one final pull the zip slides into place, encase my pert rear and supple thighs in a skirt which barely reaches below my mid-thigh.

Finally, I grab the small pair of black flats before effortlessly sliding them petite little feet. Looking over at the mirror my Aunt had placed down I glare at my own reflection. The top-heavy blonde staring back at me still appears at peace and rather empty-headed, despite my attempted death glare. Her outfit was outstandingly revealing, her breasts threatening to escape from her top at any moment the occasional odd leg movement causing her to reveal her own lack of panties. The tears staining her cheeks and jiggling chest do little to bolster any aggression she was meant to exhibit, instead making her look pitiful.

"Damn...it...I need...I need different clothes..." I hiss, looking between me and my body. "Or...or my old body baaaack" I whine, stamping my foot and causing my chest to jiggle free of my top. Fuck...no no...get back...in..." I squeak, clumsily struggling to force my oversized tit back inside the flimsy top.

After a minute or two of fighting my own clothes and body, I manage to get myself decent once again. Slowly but surely I begin to pace towards the door which my mother and Aunt turned children had entered and exited from. I whimper as I hear the skirt squeak beneath me, the rocking of my hips causing the old pleather to rub against itself.

As I head towards the door I look down at the driver's license on the boxes. I know I need to take it with me, but I had no place to put it. My face turns sour as I realize I had one place to stow the small card away. Groaning to myself I grab it before sliding it between my massive breasts, pushing it slowly into my cleavage as my face contorts with disgust.

"I'm...I'm going to..." I hiss, opening the door violently and entering the hallway.

I whip my head around, my messy mane of hair brushing over my partially exposed shoulders and smacking me in the face. I appear to be at the very end of the hallway, coming from a small room off to the right. I begin to quickly pace down the hall in a huff, grabbing my breasts in an effort to keep them from escaping my top again and to reduce the pain of their bouncing.

As I reach the end I rapidly find the hallway opening up into a...