As I step through the threshold of the strange doorway the world spins around me, my head swimming in a vague sense of vertigo as my footfall appears to linger in motion for longer than it should. It was like I had become suddenly grossly intoxicated, my vision warping and lagging behind me as my stomach churns nauseatingly with my body threatening to lose my lunch with each passing second.
However, as I feel the worn carpet under my boot on the other side every snaps back into clarity with a disorienting lurch. I stumble forward slightly, a scant few droplets of sweat resting on my brow as I try to force the memory of that intense nausea from my mind. With my stumbling steps I lean against the thick wooden door, the large block of sturdy-feeling antique structure flexing at the hinges as I place my weight on it as the other side mirrors the strain.
As I collect myself I realize the room I was in was...off. While I had exited my room through a door on the left side of my room I had emerged into Emma's room...also on the left. It was as though we had both been set up in the same room, with each other's abode only appearing to be mirrored while on one side or another.
"This is..." I mutter, pausing to clamp a hand over my mouth as I feel my stomach attempt to upend itself. With a deep breath and a hard swallow I manage to keep whatever was trying to come up down, a shudder running down my spine at the thought of walking back through the doorway.
"This is too weird" I finally manage to finish, pushing myself off of the flexing door as it bounces back slightly on its hinges in response to the force with a drawn-out creaking.
Remembering why I had been forced to come through the doorway I begin to look around, seeking out the 'fucking top or something' I had been commanded to find. Glancing over at the foot of the oddly high bed I look at the poorly packed bags, the bugling canvas duffels and their tangled bundles of clothes spilling out onto the floor from under the bed.
"Hey!" I call back to Emma in my room, "Is the white shirt okay?!"
However, even after waiting for more than a few seconds I don't hear a response. From the foot of the bed I look into the odd bathroom, finding the large mirror still acting as a window between our two rooms. I watch as she lays on the bed, her large perky chest squishing against the firm mattress and duvet while she talks on loudspeaker. Her long slender yet toned legs kick absentmindedly behind her, her dainty feet raised in the air and shifting around as she talks lazily.
Despite her occasional loud-looking outbursts of surprise or laughter I can't hear a thing, the sound between the rooms being apparently muffled to the point of complete silence. The image is uncanny, the voyeuristic feeling of watching someone so candidly but without even a single hint of sound coming from the other side.
I also watch as the towel wrapped around her torso, now forgotten about as Emma focuses on her call, slowly inches downwards. While it had been falling down her body the entire time she had been standing in my room, it appears to have continued to do so despite her laying on top of it. The once white now faintly blue towel now rests around her lower thighs, her chest now fully uncovered but thankfully hidden sandwiched between her and the bed. The towel, covering her abdomen and her upper legs appears to cinch inwards slightly between her legs, an indent or crease forming ever so slightly as the towel begins to stick to itself.
While watching in confusion and amazement I hear a loud series of beeping and chimes emanate from beside the bed, my attention quickly snapping to the source as I jump in place out of shock. My gaze locks to the flimsy plastic tiara, adorned with clear plastic gemstones, resting atop a large expensive looking smartphone in a crepe pink case.
Walking over I glance down at the phone, a flashing light informing me of some notifications yet unseen on the device. Glancing over my shoulder at Emma through the mirror I watch as she distractedly talks with our apparent mother while she absent-mindedly peruses my phone with the occasional wince or snide smirk.
Watching as Emma goes through my phone so flagrantly I return to looking down at her own, a frown spreading across my face as I eye up the Galaxy S21 Ultra with no small amount of jealousy.
"How the hell could she afford this?" I grumble, reaching down to pull the phone out from under the cheap tiara. However, as my fingers inch towards the light pink case I freeze up as the memory of what happened to Emma's hand when she touched my phone quickly rushes to the forefront of my mind.
Wincing through clenched teeth I force my way through the bout of hesitation, snatching up the large lavish phone in a quick scoop as the tiara quickly falls to the floor. The moment my fingers brush against the case I let out a short yelp of surprise at the sharp tingling shock that rockets up my outstretched digits, the buzzing sensation feeling not unlike touching a weak electric fence or the pins and needles after resting on one's arm.
Flexing my fingers a little I try to work through the electrified aching that pulses through my hand, watching intently as I try to unlock the phone for the first time. The screen quickly springs to life, the gorgeous top-of-the-line device really displaying the difference in image quality between itself and my several-year-old phone. The lock screen is plastered with a large picture of Emma laughing giddily, a set of arms wrapping around her shoulders the young man behind her wears a goofy grin as he pulls her into an embrace from behind.
Cocking my eyebrow I stare at the man in the image, the wild mane of dark brown wavy hair reminding me of someone I had known years and years ago.
"Is that...Evelyn's brother?" I mutter to myself, momentarily becoming distracted from the aching of my right hand as I try my best to place the individual in the photo. Evelyn, or Eve as we'd called her at the time, had been a fairly pretty and popular girl in my year level in high school. She'd been relatively nice to me, jokingly saying I was like a little brother to her despite not being popular myself and only being a year younger than her, and as such I'd even met some of her family at sports days and school events before she moved schools herself. The goofy grin and the messy lazily maintained hair looked eerily similar to her younger brother Mark, a short and doughy kid that seemed to have looked up to each and every one of Eve's sporty boyfriends.
"I guess he'd be...eighteen or nineteen by now" I muse, further cementing my thoughts as to who this could be.
Before I can delve too deeply into that thought I hear a subtle crackling begin to emanate from my hand. Glancing down I let out a wheezing wince, the sight of the large masculine fingers on my twitching and shrinking sending terrified chills down my spine. The bones slowly crunch in on themselves, shrinking back by a fraction of an inch each time. My fingernails inversely begin to lurch outwards, my normally poorly maintained and haphazardly clipped edge rapidly smoothing out and growing additional length by the second.
Swallowing hard I reach up, running my twitching and pulsing thumb over the fingerprint reader on the phone. The screen freezes up for a moment, the shifting image of the 'Slide to Unlock' icon stopping in place as the device tries to recognize the thumbprint I had given it.
I watch as a faint and extremely thin coating of a glossy pink substance begins to build on my nails, the elongated shaped tapering off and coming to a hard flat edge as it continues to grow outwards. My chipped and dry skin begins to soften and heal, small knicks and scars on my hand fading away as my skin rejuvenates and even grows more supple and gentle to the touch than it had ever been before.
Suddenly, my attention is snapped back to the phone as it finally decides to unlock. My heart skips a beat as it does so, a desire to drop the phone and run back to my own room building as I watch my dominant hand shift and twist slowly into a mirror to Emma's. However, that desire quickly falls away as I see the home screen as it's replaced with more intrigue than anything else.
The home screen is rather sparse, with only shortcuts to messenger apps on the screen to allow for the background image to be seen in all its glory. The image shows both Emma and the young man from the lock screen standing up on a small stage, both dressed to the nines with Emma in a tight and elegant magenta dress and the young man in a well-fitted black suit with a matching magenta tie.
The magenta dress clings to Emma's slender body tightly, the lack of shoulders on the dress leading for it to bind closely to her large bust and cling to her tight torso. The lower portion shimmers in the harsh stage lights, a slit along the side allowing for her to show some thigh if the desire arises. The plastic tiara rests atop of head, her long glossy black hair having been pulled back into a neatly organized and tight bun for the night.
The young man next to her standing just a little taller than Emma, the fact she was around six feet tall making this likely to be a common occurrence. His hand rests on her slender hip, holding her body close to his own as they both smile to the camera with their cheeks burning a deep deep red.
My eyes dart away from the image of what I can only assume was Emma's prom or graduation formal as I watch another notification roll in. My jaw practically drops as I see the sheer number of notifications filling the bar at the top of her screen, with dozens of apps crying for her attention. All manner of likes and comments across various social media services for dozens of images, more chats both one-on-one and with a group than I can comprehend across a variety of apps, and a truly amazing number of emails sent by all manner of sources from shopping sites pitching sales and discounts to some more serious looking ones from colleges and what looks like a law firm.
Before I can make heads or tails of the mess of prompts on her phone I hear the whine of a door on worn hinges inching closed. Snapping around I watch as the door between slowly begins to pick up speed, both it and the mirrored door on the other side of the doorway beginning to slam shut.
I lunge towards the door, hoping to grab it before it shuts. However, as I take my first step I stumble and fall with a painful thud against the hard carpeted floor. Looking down to see what had tripped me my heart skips a beat and my blood runs cold. My jeans appear to have faded slightly, the sharp blue beans looking like they had leeched out their color, and their legs had fused together into a single tight mass shifting into a wrapped tube.
Desperate to reach the door I begin to writhe, wriggling myself free from the trappings of my morphing jeans only to find my underwear equally fused to the discolored denim. As I finally manage to slide my legs free from their fabric prison, crawling naked on the floor by the foot of the bed in a stranger's room, I hear the door slam shut with a loud clicking noise.
Looking to the mirror I watch as Emma stares back at me from the bed, her eyes equally wide in horror as he stares between me and the now closed door. My gaze falls onto what was once her white towel, having grown obviously blue since I had last looked and having separated into two loose sections for her legs.
Emma quickly leaps to her feet, staggering slightly as she tries to pull up her towel only to have it dig into her groin. Her jaw drops as she stares down at the towel, the once plush material now tough and coarse. With her lips quivering she rushes to the doorway, slipping out of sight as she races to reopen what had closed. However, while last time I had seen the door react to her on the other side and even felt it myself the door now sits completely still.
Sitting on the floor in shock, unsure what to do as I glance between what had once been my comfortable jeans, the phone in my altered hand, and the now closed door, I languish in a mixture of terror and confusion for a minute.
However, my dull malaise doesn't have a chance to last for long as I hear the telltale jingling of keys at the door. With a terrified yelp I lunge for the mass of shifting material that had been my jeans, holding it over my flaccid cock in an attempt to protect my modesty.
The front door to the room swings open, the figure in the doorway being immediately recognizable as the young man from the picture. As he sees me struggling to cover myself his goofy grin quickly begins to creep across her slightly tanned face, his mess dark brown hair appearing more windswept than in any of the pictures I had seen.
His glee turns to annoyance as he struggles to pull his keys free from the door. With a nervous chuckle he begins to tug at the jangling set of metal, bracing one arm against the door as he pulls. I watch as his athletic body, covered in lean yet prominent muscles, flexes and bulges with each of his grunting attempts to dislodge the keys. He is only dressed in a set of board shorts, the white set with two black stripes down the left side appearing to have been recently sun dried.
Suddenly he finally rips the small key from the grip of the lock, chuckling to himself before slipping the key into one of his scant few pockets.
"God damn cheap..." he mutters, her voice yet again reminding me of Evelyn and her family. Before I can follow that train of thought much further I watch as the young man turns to look at me, her goofy grin returning as his eyes lock to my bare chest.
"Love the view Em" the young man chides with a wink, raising his eyebrows as his smile grows. Realizing just how much of me was on display I quickly pull the towel up over my chest, struggling to hide both my crotch and my chest with the limited fabric.
"Awwww, I wasn't complaining" the young man groans playfully, leaning up against door frame.
He cocks an eyebrow at me, glancing around the room a little as if looking for something or noticing that something was off. After a pregnant pause he finally speaks up, "I thought...
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