The Replacements - Part Four

"Come on dumplin'" the man chuckles, grabbing me and practically tossing me into the back seat. "Need to get home 'fore the missus gets wise to her missin' husband" he continues, a phone buzzing in the front seat as he's sent a message.

As I land in the large vehicle he slams the door shut, walking around to the driver's seat as he talks inaudibly to the broker. She barely looks up from her phone, giving him short responses as she texts and reads from her phone.

Turning to sit my tiny frame properly in the seat, my bare pert behind rubbing against the dirty crumb-filled fabric as the cheap black panties slip between my cheeks, I feel my leg knock against something. Looking down I'm forced to hold my glasses, my hand shooting up as I feel the large frames begin to slide off my nose.

Sitting on the floor is a large set of plastic bags, each one bulging with a hodge-podge of seemingly random items. From massive tubs of baby formula to white chocolate melts and large jars of spicy pickles, the bags practically scream late night cravings run.

Suddenly, the man opens his door and hops into the front seat. The car quickly spurs to life, the large and unwieldy vehicle pulling out as I'm thrown around in the backseat like a rag-doll.

"Best to buckle up sweetpea" the man chuckles, quickly pulling onto the main road as the van is brought up to speed. With a whimper I quickly tug at the straps of the seat belt, wincing as I Feel my large chest shift beneath the strap.

"You'll get used to it" the man states, patting at his flat chest with a smirk. His fingers snake beneath the buttons of his blue flannel pajama top, the firm rough digits playing for a moment with his chest air in amusement. As we race back towards the city a look comes over the man's face, his eyes going wide in realization. "Mind checkin' the bags in the back?" he asks, looking at me in the rear view mirror. "Can't rightly 'member if I got the... uh... personal items."

For a second I look at his reflection in confusion before my chocolate brown eyes down to the bags. With my bare feet I shift them around, not wanting to strain and struggle with my weak form against the seat belt.

I soon spot a black tube nestled between a set of different squeezable flavored ice cream toppings, the 'Intimate Moments' label sending my cheeks burning red.

The driver seems to understand what I found from my reaction, laughing out loud as we pass out of the outer suburbs and the buildings begin to grow nearer and taller by the second.

"The missus is insatiable at the minute" he chuckles, shifting in his seat with a quick glance down at his own crotch. "Swears I deserve it though, been really steppin' up as a husband. Shame it takes poppin' out a few kids yourself to be able to empathize and understand..." he continues, rambling a little as he checks his phone.

Before we can reach the city proper the van takes a turn, the mid-rises and old historical houses racing by the window as he takes us down a series of narrow and winding roads. Old trees line the undulating footpaths, over a century of growth causing a thick canopy to form around the power lines. Turning once more we begin to roll down a hill, moving slowly as the cul-de-sac ends leading into a walking trail through a set of modern mid-rises running along the river.

"Here we are..." the man says, checking his phone one last time before putting in a new address. "307 is yours, think it's the last in... that row" she explains, pointing to the glass and burnished wood clad set of buildings overlooking the water.

"There are..." I mutter, coughing as the soft and sweet voice escapes my lip.

"Out of my price range that's for sure" the man laugh, shooting me a quick look. "Sweetheart we don't have all night, jus' keep ya head down and enjoy yourself..." he states, pausing for a moment before finishing "...Within reason Lin.'

Climbing from the van the frigid night air quickly beings to bite at my exposed skin. The cold pavement stings at my feet with each step. I try to follow the man' advice, ducking down low as I try to find the door with the right number.

The walk is awful, not only do my short slender legs not allow me to stride nearly as far as before but with each step my freezing form moves in ways that hammer my new body into my mind. My hips try to rock, my chest heaves and jiggles, and my glasses fog with my huffing breath as I race down the path.

As I approach the mid-rise I would be calling home it really sinks in just how much this place would have cost. From the massive wall sized insulation treated glass to the glimpses of high end built-in appliances sitting in the kitchens and living rooms. Coming to the end of the row I find the building sloping down, the wooden slats of the exterior spreading to reveal a lawn native grasses and flowers in an attempt to blend the structure into the local environment. One solitary apartment sits beneath it, the largest and likely the most expensive home in building.

I creep up to the front door, ducking down low as I spot the machine-carved ornate golden metal numbers. "Three zero seven..." I whisper, grabbing the door handle and lightly pushing the door open.

As I step inside a light slowly begin to glow overhead, the high ceiling bathing me in warm light. A low rumble comes from deeper inside, warm air soon coming out of the slender slits in the polished hardwood floor. The walls are painfully white, crisp and clean without any sort of adornments. The scent of the home is still fresh and new, the smell of paint and sawdust still clinging to the air.

Tall sets of heels sit by the door, a shiver running down my spine as I spot what would be giving me any semblance of being a normal average height again. They all look thoroughly expensive, from the immaculate shiny leather to the metal trimmings.

A small room parts off to the left, glowing red and green light slipping out from under the door. To the right is simply the wall, bare and barren as it reflects the soft warm light from above. The lights themselves don't seem to get all too bright, the dimness seemingly programed in for this terrible hour of the morning.

Three doors lead off on the right, two flush with the long hallway with one sitting at the end opposite to the entrance.

As I stumble down the hallway, yawning loudly as the adrenaline dies down and the reality of being in a body that was woken up midway through sleeping sinks in, I find it open up into a large kitchen and living area covered in wall to wall glass. The shadowed greenery outside shifts and sways, the whole space feeling overly exposed.

There is barely any furniture around the living space, the room only being home to a single chair and a small coffee table. The kitchen is sparklingly clean, being home to a bin filled to the brim with takeaway containers.

My knees shake as I shuffle over to the plush and seemingly oversized arm chair, my whole body dropping like a puppet with cut strings as I slump into the soft seat. My eyelids flutter, my heart rate dipping lower and lower as exhaustion grips me and a slip off to sleep in the blue felt arms of the single chair.