Swap Clinic In The New Year - Part Five

For what feels like a few blissful moment I'm free of the experiences of what happened on New Years day, stuck in the in between between dreamless sleep and the painful waking world. For those wonderful few moments I feel normal, but all good things must end.

Laying in the dark room, my eyes closed to what little light slips in through the crack in the bedroom door, I'm suddenly wracked with a growing number of aches and pains. Every bone, every joint, every muscle slowly waking up along with me and crying out in distress. It was like waking up the day after the worst workout ever, the aches and pains of a healing body requiring rest and recuperation.

"Fuck..." I groan, my soft new voice reaching my ears. My mind races as the days events catch up to me, shattering the blissful ignorance I had woken up to.

Gasping loudly I lurch up, or at least try to as my pained body and weighty chest make it difficult to pull myself from the plush bed. "No...no no no" I squeak, my voice coming out more clearly as my throat feels less rough. With a bit of a roll and a struggle I manage to sit up, resting heavily on my slender arms for balance as my muscles twitch and pulse as if complaining about being forced from their resting state.

I wince as I feel the my clothes against my skin, the dry sticky sensation between my thighs bringing back memories of my transformation and the sharp scent of the drying milk reminding me of what was to come.

As I shift in an attempt to find a comfortable position I hear a clattering noise as something falls to the floor. Sitting in the darkened room, illuminated only by the fading sun creeping in through the doorway, I try to get my bearings. Remembering the glasses I glance at the floor, making out their dark shape against the white carpet.

I lean down to pick them up, pausing as I grip the sheets with my petite fingers as I feel like I'm about to topple over. Still unused to the heavy weight on my chest I'm forced to move more deliberately and carefully, not only to avoid strain on my sore body but also as an effort to learn how this body wanted to move.

Grunting and groaning the whole way down I finally manage to reach out and take the glasses, beginning the slow process of sitting back up and placing the glasses on my new face. Blinking a few times as the world comes back into view I look around again, the light from the doorway giving me a halfway decent view of the piles of dirty clothes scattered across the floor as well as the phone and bottles by the bed.

Slowly but surely I fight to get to my feet, staggering as I stand at my full 4'10" height. With wobbly legs I pace over to the phone, stumbling as I feel my hips grind against my mannish stride in an effort to sway and rock more naturally.

Reaching the phone I quickly pick it up, unlocking the device with my thumb print. I whimper as the phone respond to me, yet another reminder that I was no longer myself and was in fact a total stranger. I let my eyes get used to the bright light of the screen, my eyes going wide as I see the immense list of notifications filling the status bar. A seemingly endless list of retweets, purchase notifications, donations alerts, and lewd private messages had poured in over the past 24 hours.

I go to lock the phone again, to hide the deluge of notifications from my sight until I felt capable of even looking at them, but pause as I catch a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror by the built-in wardrobe. My jaw drops as I see my chest, which had been immensely perky after the transformation, sagging in my stained shirt. I take a few tentative steps closer, my heart racing a mile a minute as I watch the short and curvy girl with shoulder length brown hair mimicking my every move. With my lip quivering I begin to fiddle with my shirt, looking at my body bit by bit as I whimper softly. The stretch marks that had remained after the transformation appear to have faded, looking like they had been a part of me for years while my chest had started to sag as the new fatty lumps on my chest and the skin around them had lost the immediate elasticity they had at the Swap Clinic. I reach up to feel my breasts through my shirt, pausing as I see the girl in the mirror reach for her own massive chest with hands that are far too small to contain the massive orbs.

I quickly move my hands back to my sides, locking my phone as I decide to avoid that sort of exploration for now. Moving carefully across the room towards the door I try my best to avoid the swaths of filthy clothes all over the floor. As I reach the doorway I pull the door open, turning the crack of light into a wave that washes over the room.

From beyond the windows I can see the sun setting on the horizon, dipping down bellow the skyline of the other building around my own. Before stepping out into the hallway I glance over the the streaming set up, seeing the scrambled and scribbled papers covering the keyboard. Reaching over I snap one of them up, adjusting my glasses as I try my best to read the poor handwriting.

 

 

Hey J

Hey Mr H

Hey Scarl

Hey Sexy,

Welcome 2 your new life

I hope you'll

I know you'll love it I did for years

Your hot now right!?! Whats not 2 love

Left you some tips at the comp for gettin started

Should be fine not doing shows for a day or 2

Love ya xoxo

PS You need to do food shopping

PPS And you need to do laundry

PPPS Sorry for the state of the place. I didn't want to clean it

 

 

I stare at the note, the a little in disbelief at what I was reading. The thought of not only the person who wrote this terrible note being in my body, but also that I was now technically the one who wrote this sloppy mess sent chills up my spine.

I weakly scrunch up the note, a futile act of defiance and aggression at the girl who had stolen my life, before leaving to go out into the hallway.

I find myself almost waddling with each step, my aches combined with the stride my new form demanded of me leaving my gait looking rather strange and unusual. As I turn away from the laundry room and towards the kitchen I freeze in place. Finally able to see the other end of the hallway I notice what Wendy had gasped at before, another messy pile extending from one of the doors at opposite side. As I slowly walk closer, reaching the kitchen itself I begin to make out the objects in the pile. Chains, leather restraints, collars with leads, all manner of sexy toys, and a riding crop for good measure lay partly in the hallway as if they had overflowed from the room itself.

My stomach churns and heart sinks at the sight, remembering my new profession. I weakly trudge into the kitchen proper, sighing as I yet again familiarize myself with the mess Scarlett had left for me.

"She apologized...but she did it because she just didn't want to clean?" I mutter, the anger in my voice sounding cuter then I would have liked.

As I approach the counter top I notice a small envelope on the counter

 

For: Ms Scarlett Skye

Swap Clinic

 

 Reaching up I take the envelope from the counter, finding it worryingly more difficult to reach up as I glance at some of the higher cupboards. Fiddling with the envelope I begin to read towards the unexplored end of the hall, pulling apart the envelope as the lewd pile comes into view yet again. I pull the contents of the envelope from their paper prison, unfolding them to read the first page

 

 

Dear Ms Skye

Thank you for using the Swap Clinic, we hope you enjoy your purchases from Mr Hughes.

Enclosed is a copy of the profile you submitted upon your registration, including relevant bank details and passwords.

Best Wishes

The Swap Clinic

 

 

Looking at the pages behind the first I find a large sheet of personal details. Name, height, weight, birthday, allergies, bank details, passwords, everything I would need to get a grip on Scarlett's life from a purely factual standpoint.

Realizing I would need to go over this all in full I let out a sigh, wondering if Scarlett in my body would do the same considering her apparent lack care.

As I reach the end of the unexplored corridor I find that it mirrors the other side, with one door right at the end and the other being a part of the wall opposite the windows. Being careful not to touch any of the leather restraints and metal chains I lean over the pile to glance into the room beyond. I let out a loud wince as I peer in, not only at the sight of what was inside but also as I feel my prodigious rack hang heavily as I bend and lean over.

The room itself was just like the bedroom, the same layout and built-in wardrobe mirroring that of the one I had woken up in. However, this room appeared to have been converted into some kind of set. A tripod sits in the over near the wall opposite the wardrobe, a rather expensive looking camera resting atop it with cables running from it to a small laptop close by. The center of the room contains two relatively small stage lights, aimed directly at a large burgundy futon which was pressed up against the wardrobe itself. A lighting strip runs along the floor in front the the futon, finishing the mostly professional set out for the room.

The futon is covered in all manner of pillows and cushion, a wall of which creates the impression of a back rest. Large sections of the wardrobe are obscured by curtains of various dark yet sensual colors. Moody blacks, sensual reds, and regal purples intermingle to create a creative backdrop.

Against the far wall, out of camera shot, is a larger version of the pile by the door. Dildos, pumps for fake cum, even a fuck machine or two make up the messy hill of equipment.

I feel my face both drain of color in shock and grow flushed and warm in arousal at the room, both being wiped out as I'm hit with the growing sense of dread that I would need to use that room at some point soon.

I quickly turn away from the room, taking a large stretching step to avoid knocking over or even touching the messy pile between me and the last unexplored door. As I make the large step I feel my old cum crackling against my skin, the dried remains of what was once my manhood disgustingly stuck to my soft squishy thighs.

"Gross...That's my...oh fuck it's so...so..." I mutter, trailing off as I hear my sensual voice whine in a manner that was still alien to me.

Reaching the last door I push it open, breathing a sigh of relief as I see what lay within. The room was larger than the laundry, though tiled in a similar water proof manner. It was the bathroom for the house, and a rather large one at that. Inside is spacious, though that may be due to my new perspective, with everything one would expect and even a little more. To the left of the doorway is a large porcelain sink along with a large mirror above and a cabinet beneath, a heated towel rack next to it sporting only one hand towel. To the right is a large bath, one that would easily be able to submerge my whole body with comfortably. In the back right hand corner is a large shower, the beautiful glass frame marred by streaks of soap and grime from continued use. Another heated towel rack sit between both the shower and the bath, though it apparently lacks any towels currently. And in the back left hand corner, opposite the doorways in, sits the toilet.

My state of marveling at the general room quickly falls away as I see the floor, dirty and in once case moldy towels sit bunched up wherever they've been thrown.

Squeezing my thighs together I'm reminded of my desperate need for a shower, the dried out cum and the scent of slowly spoiling milk making me desperate to be clean. In a huff I look at the hand towel on the warmer, whining under my breath as I realize that I needed to do.

Slowly but surely I begin to strip out of my filthy clothes, taking off my glasses to start the process. Pulling the pants is relatively easy, however as the waist band glides over my behind I'm reminded just how big my new rear was. The shirt is another matter, the large yet formfitting item becoming a pain to remove in the way I have stripped out of shirts all my life. After a long struggle I manage to pull the slightly soggy material over my bust and my head, allowing me to wriggle free as my body uncomfortably jiggles with my erratic movement.

Waddling over the shower I quickly begin to fiddle with the taps, trying to hastily get the temperature right so I can finally get myself clean. As steam fills the room I look back in the mirror one last time as it begins to fog up. I'm met with the sight of the stacked yet petite girl I had become, a nervous look in my eyes as they dance of my now slightly sagging chest and my thick behind. While the stretch marks had begun to fade other blemishes were starting to show, with a bit of cellulite beginning to form on my backside.

Thankfully my pained ogling is cut short as the steam from the shower begins to obscure the mirror entirely, allowing me to pull myself away and climb under the pleasantly hot water as the ache in my muscles and bones rapidly abates.