The Swap Meet - Part Eleven

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Body Auction - Part Two

"Here..." she whispers, her voice giving away a slight shortness in her breath. With a little tap she produces two small blue pills from the bottle, and passing them to me. "In-house blend, fast acting. They'll help you put on a show... trust me."

I look between her and the pills, flashing her a weak smile.

"Thanks..." I mutter nervously, rolling the tiny unmarked blue pills in my hand.

"No worries" she whispers back, giving me a little wink. "You've got about five minutes to get ready."

As the stagehand races off, glancing down at a clipboard to work out who would be called after me, I glance down at the pills. I had no idea what they were, though could they be all that bad if the Body Auction staff were handing them out?

Swallowing hard I stand up from my seat, placing the pills in my mouth and swallowing them down before I can have second thoughts.

Witness Relocation - Part Three

My jaw drops as I stare at my feet, wriggling my toes in disbelief as I stare in awe at the familiar sight beneath me. Gone are the sweaty old sneakers, the only pair of shoes I had worn for the past few months suddenly being replaced with strappy sandals, the expensive slender leather bands in pristine condition.

I'm immediately forced to reach back, the padding on the makeshift bed thankfully straining at my hands but not causing them to pop like my feet had. I'm left teetering, the surface area and support I am standing on having diminished by multiple sizes.

The sandals have a slight heel to them, the solid block perfectly carved and curved wood causing my feet to point down as a tension builds in my calves. A pair of delicate sun-kissed feet rest inside the supple leather, the numerous light brown straps wrapping around the soft flawless flesh before being held tight with the occasional tiny gold buckle.

I let out a series of gasping breaths, my eyes going wide as I wiggle the cute toes at the end of the footwear. A shimmering layer of varnish catches the emergency lights, the freshly trimmed and professionally done nails being a far cry from what I had grown out over my months in the office.

Preferred Partners - Part One

Walking down to the garage at the bottom of my apartment building I fiddle with my keys, rolling the worn metal and aging plastic in my hand. I can feel the sweat clinging to my palms wipe away with each fidgeting motion, the dented and peeling plastic feeling grosser by the second as I trudge out of the stairwell and into the dimly lit concrete basement.

Clicking at the button on my keys over and over I eventually am met with the sound of a discordant beeping echoing out from deeper inside the complex, my shoulder sagging as I realize it would still be a bit of a walk before I'd be able to hit the road.

Weaving in and out of the cars parked in the basement, the positioning lacking any real rhyme or reason beyond simply seeking to delay me, I pull my phone from my pocket. Opening up my GPS I begin to type in my address before freezing as I get writing out the destination.

"Shit..." I huff, reaching into my pocket once again in search for my phone. "Where was it again?"

As I pull my phone out, quickly unlocking it, I'm forced to shield my eyes as I navigate the bright screen through to my emails. Scrolling through my various folders I quickly reach the one labelled 'Swap Clinic', my heart fluttering as I open it and the most recent message.

'Congratulation, You and Another have been selected for the Preferred Partners Program'

Public Purchase - Part Four

As I go to say something more, holding up the bus pass, the driver just nods at me before tapping on a small device by the hand railing and then to a sign requesting that passengers don't speak to the driver while the bus is in motion.

Nodding to him, and more than a little desperate to sit down as I feel my shrunken frame jostle and shake thanks to the rough ride of the bus, I quickly scan my pass as I turn my attention to the bus at large.


As I reach the seats I find the bus a completely empty bus, taking a seat up the back for privacy.

Build-a-Mom (Swap Clinic) - Part Four

"Thanks..." Kelly whispers, grinning nervously from ear to ear as she practically squirms with excitement where she stands. She grips my hand ever tighter, her palms growing sweaty from the anxiety bubbling up inside her.

"We just need to sign... thing... I think, to make things all legal and stuff for the new... you" she states, simply eliciting a nod and a warm smile from me as my stomach grumbles distractingly. "Once we're done we can... can..." she muses, trailing off as her eyes dart around in deep thought. It's as though she is searching for the answer to come to her, to find it floating around the front desk or behind the counter.

"Ma'am..." calls the chubby young man as he plods back over to us, two plain-looking folders in his pudgy grip. He places one folder in front of each of us, one labelled 

'Kelly Richards'

As he slides the other in front of me my eyes go wide, my heart hammering so hard in my chest I can hear it in my ears. With my free hand I reach up, pointing to the label as I look at a deeply nervously Kelly.

'Evelyn Richards'

"Are we..." I whimper, stepping closer to her as I lock eyes to the brunette beside me. Kelly's face burns a deep tomato red, her mouth hanging open as she blabbers ineffectively through the nerves.

Swap Clinic Body Bundles - Part Four

"I need a fucking drink..." I mutter, jumping a little as I hear my sweet and squeaky voice contrast with my dark and brooding body. I pout as I think back to my apartment, the vague memory of an out-of-date bottle of wine being all the liquor that I had on hand.

Slumping over, keeping my profile low as I hit the street, I try to work out where to go as I take stock of my new form. With a deep breath, straightening my back as I find myself looking up to meet most passersby in the eye, I decide on a course of action as I head to my Goth Neighbor Gracie's apartment in search of booze.

Witness Relocation - Part Two

"Done" Wendy states, pulling the hard drive from the laptop. "I need a coffee. Once the volunteer gets here just press..."

"Enter, I can do that Ms. Hale" Carl huffs, obviously still frustrated at her previous comments. We both watch as the short technician shuffles out of the room, grumbling under her breath about this and that. "So, Mr. Hughes..." Carl chirps, his jovial nature returning in an instant "Climb on in, and do mind the edges."

Swallowing hard, I look between the device and Carl. My stomach sinks a little, the image of the three men from that fateful night flashing through my mind as I shuffle over to the device. My mind races struggling to come to terms with, or even full comprehend what was about to happen.

Soulless and Sentient - Part Three

I begin to shiver in the cold night air and the rain, the tight and revealing clothes leaving me with little to combat the cold. My mouth hangs open, whimpering half words slipping out from my lips as I try to comprehend just what was happening.

I watch as the hands flutter about once more, patting over my body as if to take stock before pulling a phone from my top and typing.

'Spare key under mat, go home'

 I feel a shiver run down my spine, the feeling of the petite hand plunging unto the cavernous cleavage inside the tight teal top only acting as a part of the strange sensations wracking my rebellious body. The feeling of the hot and sweat-soaked phone clinging to the soft and supple fatty flesh bound inside the top, the device causing my skin to catch and cling thanks to the warm moisture, causing my mind to reel.

Covering the phone screen with one hand, fighting to keep the rain away from the already sweat coated device, my body rapidly begins to type out yet another message in a clumsy frenzy with the other hand.

'Please, I help'

'Promise'

One Week In - Update

Hey there Lovelies, 

 

What a long first week that was. It took a little bit longer than I expected to get all the old stories across to the blog, though that may have been in part due to the daily post limit I never knew existed until now.

There are some stories that I didn't bring across, mostly due to them being pure stubs that I don't see myself continuing anytime soon or by simply missing them on accident. If you notice any major stuff missing please drop a comment so I can try to rectify the situation.

I also wanted to run two ideas past you all that I'm recently been ruminating on;

• Patreon, and
• Pictures

A Patreon isn't in the near future, I'd rather see if I can post consistently first before I start asking for donations. However, I would like to ask what sort of stuff you'd like to see on one if it were ever made?

I never plan to paywall off any of my stories, everything I write should be Free Forever, so exclusives are off the table. I was thinking something like a poll to help pick a story to be updated each week, something like a Fandom Friday, otherwise it'd just be for little donations so I'm open to thoughts and suggestions.

 

As for the other thing I've been thinking about I was considering adding pictures to my stories, a thing I'd previously said I would never do. I recently got put onto an opensource AI art generator that has relatively relaxed licensing and was considering using it sparingly to help illustrate scenes or add a little flavor.

I was wondering whether you all would be interested in me popping pictures into the stories every once and a while as little illustrations or to paint scenes a little more vibrantly?

As always I hope you enjoy

Witness Protection, Relocation, & Prevention - Part One

"Just this way Mr. Hughes" the deep and gravelly voice calls, the doughy and rotund man in an ill-fitting suit ahead of me clumsily weaving his way through the mess of cubicles. The sound of keyboards clicking under a rainstorm of typing and the occasional phone conversation fills the air, the fluorescent lights and dull gray walls leaving the office space seeming far more depressing than it likely was.

As I pass by each of the small cubicles I can't help but peer inside, finding more men and women in various states of professional business wear. From three-piece suits to simple button-up shirts and slacks in an array of colors, the workers were certainly putting more effort into their appearance rather than their work.

While some seemed deeply engrossed in their screens, leaning in to read over numerous color-coded spreadsheets and court filings, most could be found browsing the web or on their phone as they sipped at their coffees and teas.

I try to keep my head down, not wanting people to see my face. While I'm able to duck below the walls of the cubicles I can't stop the workers from turning to see me, the blubbery man in blue ahead of me greeting everyone as we pass.

Build-a-Mom (Swap Clinic) - Part Three

I squint, the motion forcing my eyelids to lock into a partially closed state. My breath catches in my throat at the sight of the page, the image of a computer generated woman in her late teens to early twenties  barely making its way through the bubbling viscous goo.

The wall of roiling bubbles quickly becomes to intense to read through. Before long I'm merely left to ruminate on the image I had seen on the page, the sight of a slender pale redhead with sharp and striking features along with perfect modest curves.