Upload/Download - Part Five

...Rachel Marshal, my old history teacher from high school.

The mature woman by the stairs peers down at me through her horn-rimmed glasses, her deep blue eyes glancing up and down at my shorter chubby form. With a bit of a huff, she begins to approach me with a stride that appeared effortless in her six-inch heels.

The matte black shoes matched her severe business attire. She dressed just how I remember her from my days in high school almost a decade ago, though the years certainly didn't show. My own gaze runs up from her heels, falling onto her black sheer pantyhose which encased her firm calves before disappearing beneath a tight black pencil skirt that hugged her childbearing hips and tight rear.

Tucked into this skirt was a pristine white ruffled blouse, the whole outfit cutting an exquisite silhouette for this mature aged woman. The blouse ballooned out over her chest, making it quite apparent where Gracie got her endowment, with the faint outline of a cream-colored bra peeking through the taut fabric.

As my eye is drawn further up my jaw begins to hang agape, my head needing to tilt up to look at this taller woman. Mrs. Marshal had always been shorter than me while I was in school, having only been 5'5", but now she towered over me.

As I look at her neckline, my eyes moving up to her face, I begin to notice some subtle differences from all those years ago. Her face, once unblemished, was now dotted with wrinkles. Crow's feet, smile lines, and deep crinkles in her forehead now appear prominently as she stared me down. Her red hair had lost some of its luster, the long mane tightly pulled into a formal bun.

I'm snapped out of my train of thought as she reaches out to me, placing a hand under my chin and closing my mouth.

"Now Mr Hughes, no gawking like some slack-jawed"..." she begins to say in a chastising tone, stopping before she managed to finish the sentence as she begins to forcibly tilt my head from side to side.

She clicks her tongue as she leans in, grabbing one of my arms as she runs her hand along it.

"Oh yes, it's certainly someone new in there. My darling daughter wouldn't have...cleaned herself up without prompting" she continues with a smirk, her crimson lips parting to reveal her slightly coffee-stained teeth.

"Mrs. Marshal Mom? You...you..." I squeak, my lip quivering and my heart racing as I stare up at her.

Mrs. Mashal lets out a gentle chuckle at my response, releasing my arm though maintaining her stern gaze on me. "Oh dear, I know all about Allison's little experiment...Sorry, Mrs. Hughes to you I suppose" she says, her chuckle growing louder as she corrects herself. "Though I didn't know they'd send me back a daughter who was so clean."

I open my mouth to respond, but my words catch in my throat. I didn't know what to say, what to ask. Had she really given away her daughter like this? Had she really gone along with putting a man in this body?

Suddenly I'm snapped back as I feel Rachel's hand close my mouth again. "What did I say...Young Lady?" she grumbles, reaching over to my shoulders and spinning me around.

"Go get changed, you can't just stand around in a towel all day" she orders, her tone reminding me of how she talked to students that forgot their homework.

I stumble forwards as I feel Rachel give me a little shove, wincing a little as I feel my thighs begin to rub together with each step. I try to remain quiet, shuffling nervously down the hall in my diminished form as I try to avoid rocking the boat. I feel the towel struggle to cover my whole body, a cold breeze hitting my flabby behind acting as a cruel reminding of my foreign form.

As I reach Gracie's bedroom I gag, the musky scent from the darkened room deeply offending my sense.

"You hate it too?" Rachel scoffs, placing her hands on her hips. "Well you shouldn't have let your room get like that, right Mr. Hughes?" she continues, chortling to herself as I waddle into the dark room.

Failing around blindly, running my hands along the walls, I eventually find the light-switch. As I flick the switch my eyes go wide, my vision darting around the room in an attempt to take it all in. I'm forced to shuffle over to the bed, recognizing the black blur on the mattress as Gracie's glasses as they slowly come into focus as I get closer and place them on my button nose. It was a mess, likely having not been cleaned for weeks or even months. The floor is covered in loose articles of clothing, making it impossible to decipher what was clean or dirty. A large hamper sits in the corner of the room by the door, overflowing with discarded clothes and representing the last of an attempt to tidy this space.

A large white wooden wardrobe sits between the hamper and the gaming rig in the opposite corner, the open doors revealing some oversized shirts featuring art from video game and anime franchise. The clothes on the floor follow a similar theme, items to cover Gracie's chubby body which were simply covered with her nerdy interests.

A small dresser squeezes in between the wardrobe and her computer desk. The dresser only had three drawers, all of which were closed, and appeared to match the same design as the wardrobe. The top was littered with all manner of knick-knacks from melted candles and makeup, to collectible anime figurines and game cases.

The gaming rig in the corner was massive, at least compared to my old one. It looked homemade, with RGB LEDs littering the case, keyboard, and mouse along with the boxes for all the parts pilling up under the desk. The cabling is terribly organized with wires running everywhere around the desk to hook up the computer and an assortment of game consoles to the large screen which tilts down towards a low racing chair. Cans of energy drink litter the space around the desk, large multipacks of Monster sit within arms reach while empty cans lay scattered across the surface of the desk and on the floor.

On the far wall, surrounding the window with blackout blinds, rests a massive series of bookshelves. The shelves appear to be bursting with books, some obviously having seen more action than others thanks to their worn spines and yellowed pages. Terry Pratchett, Brandon Sanderson, George R.R. Martin, Neil Gaiman, and many many more are all represented in this shrine to book nerddom. Intermingled in the books sit an assortment of manga, some of which sat on Gracie's bedside table as though she had been reading them and just failed to put them away. The manga covers a broad range of genres, from classic shonen to BL.

I blush as I notice the BL by the bed, my heart skipping a beat. Hoping to distract myself I turn to look at the walls, only finding my blush turning a deeper red as I see the posters on the walls. Many of them are for video games and popular shonen, most likely free swag from conventions, but amongst those are large pictures that seem to grab my attention in an unexpected way. Posters for bands I had never heard of and drawings of brooding anime guys seem to grip my attention and leaving me momentarily dumbstruck.

I eventually manage to snap myself out of my stupor, swallowing hard as I begin to realize what I was doing.

"Was I...checking them..." I mutter quietly, struggling to come to terms with what I had just been experiencing.

Hanging my head low out of nervousness I pace over to the wardrobe, fishing out the first shirt I can find. With a groan I let the town around my body drop, quickly following with the towel around my damp hair. I shiver in place as I feel the cool air in the house pass over my chubby form, reminding me of all my new unwanted curves.

I quickly begin to pull the shirt over my head, whimpering softly as I feel the fabric come to rest on my sagging breasts. Looking down my lip quivers, the bulges on my chest still showing even in the loose-fitting Final Fantasy t-shirt.

Swaying my way back over to the jeans Gracie had worn when I was put in here I slowly come to a stop, glancing back over my shoulder at the cluttered dresser. I lean down, feeling my breasts hang and sway like fatty pendulums as I pick up the black jeans.

Rather than pulling them on then and there I walk back over to the dresser, opening the drawers in search of underwear. Luckily for me, Gracie had a terrible sorting system. Scrunched up fistfuls of underwear lay in the top drawer, panties of all manner of styles and colors sit in amongst the gargantuan looking bras Gracie wore.

Reaching in I pull out a clean red pair of panties, whimpering as I unfurl the pair and see how big they looked from my new perspective. Leaning against the dresser I reach down, gliding the panties up my freshly shave legs before getting them snugly into place over my flat and cleanly shave crotch.

I continue my blind dressing with the jeans, pulling them up my legs as I wriggle my hips. I can feel the panties begin to ride up between my flabby ass cheeks, acting as a constant reminder of my new rear.

As I finish up, now standing in a loose-fitting black outfit, I notice a hair tie on the bookshelf. With the feeling of my damp hair against my neck growing annoying I walk over to the shelves, snatching up the tie before struggling to get my now back-length hair into a tidy ponytail.

As I get the tie in place I hear someone clear their voice behind me, causing me to squeal and spin on the spot. Rachel stands in the doorway, now lacking her heel and with her hair down and hanging loosely around her shoulders.

"Clean daughter, in clean clothes...next we'll get this room cleaned, won't we Mr. Hughes" she states, still sounding much like the teacher I had once known.

I open my mouth to speak, struggling to get the words out as I try to fight whatever was warping my speech.

Rachel clears her throat again, causing me to grow silent as she begins to speak...