Lost Clinic - Part Three

The walk back to the apartment is a brief one, though the incline does not make it any easier. Glancing out at the waves and the boats on the horizon I try to wrestle with my thoughts, to come to some conclusion or understanding on what to do.

"Maybe I should sleep on it..." I mutter, fidgeting with my hands as the options buzz around in my skull like pestering little flies. "Or maybe... maybe I should just test things out for a bit, who knows what that thing could do if I mess around with..." I begin to mumble, trying to rationalize merely testing various aspects of the device."

However, my train of thought is cut short as I reach the apartment, my gaze turning to look through a gap in the boarded up window downstairs as my mind turned to the machine beyond. Swallowing hard I slowly begin to pace my way towards the stairs, my stomach twisting into knots as I climb and my mind slowly fixating on my answer.

Pulling out my phone I quickly begin to start a search, crossing the threshold into the dank space as I quickly search up what information I could about the local school and for my way in.

Jamison Bay really only had a single school, the large red brick building I had seen in the distance which had stood since it's founding. While the original structure itself had only been built with a few class rooms, most of which now sat as nearly empty offices thanks to the lack of staff, the extensive grounds had left ample space for the school to adapt and grow over time.

Over the decade the school had expanded into a blend of various structures, each with their own 'unique' styles thanks in part to the decade in each they were erected. Behind the distinctive red brick front sat a small courtyard, the perimeter of the concrete and bench covered space being flanked on all sides by distinct buildings from different eras. From the white rendered walls and popcorn ceilings of the primary school block and the flimsy painted plaster board of the more simplistic high school classrooms to the dark and modern glass filled designs of the hastily planned arts building and auditorium the whole space screamed cobbled together but with some sort of financial backing.

Beyond the courtyard and the auditorium opposite the entrance sat many of the facilities of the campus, from the gym and basketball court to library and the portable class rooms that had become a more permanent if rarely used extension to the school students certainly weren't lacking beyond the desperate need for new staff.

An image from their website sets my mind racing and my eyes wide in disbelief. Sitting in the background of an otherwise unassuming picture of 'Jamison Bay's Friendly School Staff'" sits a simple little sticky note hanging precariously from a monitor, the words 'user' and 'pass' being easily readable without even a single use of the zoom.

"Okay..." I mutter breathlessly, "New plan..."

A quick scouring of my old emails here, a 'borrowed' letterhead there, and some liberal adjusting of some transcripts sent through by applicants to my former college quickly leave me with somewhat believable series of documents for this brand new admission. 

Emails from fake parents, back dated sequentially as though replying to parts of a conversation that never took place.

Simple letters with official seeming letter head that point in a standardized fashion to attached academic transcripts, not too good yet not too bad in a very bland and forgettable manner.

As I drafted these fake documents a question quickly hit me, the lingering thought churning in my head for days as I picked apart the timelines and details of each document. Before long they were largely done, from 'Mr and Mrs Miller's letters to school seeking admission for their child to the fake transcripts and school reports from a 'regretfully' disorganized high school I had the misfortune of dealing with back in the day.

"So..." I mused, taping lightly at my keyboard while making sure to not press any of the keys. "I guess I need to pick a name and..." I continued, leaning back as I stared at the highlighted blank spaces across the documents.

'Thank you for accepting our son/daughter on such late notice this semester'

'Academic Transcript for Mr/Ms [Name] Miller'

'Will someone be there to meet our son/daughter? We just don't want him/her getting lost on his/her first day'

"I mean I could just go with Jason or Jackson to make it a little bit similar to..." I began to muse, biting at my lip as I tried to think of how to handle things. My mind drifted in multiple directions, shifting between memories of device and the seemingly 'limited' male traits floating around in the folders and the thought of how I could handle the potentially awkward situation of my first day.

"I mean... a girl could turn on the water works..." I muttered, my hand moving to stroke my rough and unkempt facial hair. "Especially a cute one, I bet the old women in the office would just wave her through with enough blubbering. Besides..." I mused, looking down at the tiny budding A-Cups resting on my otherwise hair torso. "I guess I already started moving in that direction."

Leaning forward I quickly began to edit the documents, hastily adding in a 'cutesy' name that I hoped to add to the persona and the character of this fake young woman.

'Thank you for accepting our daughter on such late notice this semester'

'Academic Transcript for Ms Daisy Miller'

'Will someone be there to meet our daughter? We just don't want Daisy getting lost on her first day'

My first trip to the school was only a few days later, my head hanging low as I briskly walked in through the front door of the century old building before quickly pacing towards the offices. Rounding the corner my heart had skipped a beat as I spotted the sign sitting atop the small wooden desk.

'Lunch - Closed Until 1:30PM'

Keeping low I had quickly snuck behind the counter, my heart racing as I tried to unlock the computer with the 'borrowed'. In a matter of seconds I soon found myself staring at an ancient seeming copy of Windows, the blocky gray task bar and the pale green background sending my back to the old computer labs of my youth.

Racing to complete my tasks I opened the users emails, checking just where I would be sending things to. In a swift motion I quickly sent all the emails and documents, watching as they quickly popped onto the screen, only to download what I could before deleting everything from the inbox. With a quick renaming of the files and adjusting some settings I placed them in a folder labelled 'Important' before dumping printed copies of the more important forms in the draw beneath.

Only a few minutes afterwards I had found myself pacing back towards the apartment, my heart racing and my palms clammy as I considered the next and most extreme stage of the process.

The ensuing days were spent like a recluse, my time being spent almost entirely in the dank dark bottom floor of the building as I sit and wait for the right traits to pop up across the various folders on the glitchy screen. I flick between folder and folder almost every minute as I try to keep an eye out for the traits I would need to pull off my more than skin deep disguise.

"I'll need to be younger, that's going to be a hard one" I mutter, pouting at the screen as I dart between the folders and try to read the contents before each refresh. "I guess we can get started on some other things, I'll need clothes right?"

 "Ouch!" I squeak, my delicate and diminutive hands darting up to my slender shoulders as I fiddle with a bra strap. My large wide eyes flutter as I wince, my finger nails scraping lightly at my skin through my loose dark green woolen shawl and white singlet in search of the narrow strap digging into my soft pale flesh.

My head pounds and throbs with each step, my whole body in fact feels wrong and strained as I walk down the steep hill in the early morning chill. Day after day I had clambered into the device, carving up and piecing together a new body trait by trait and a sudden flurry of activity. The toll it took wasn't lost on me, my muscles ached more and more after each trip and my head felt fuzzy and muddled as my body rapidly regressed in age, switched up hormone production, and navigated the new nerves warping throughout my altered form.

"Stupid fucking things aren't worth the pain of..." I wheeze under my breath, fighting back tears as my soft spoken voice sound wrong as each curse word slips from my soft pink kissable lips. I freeze up as I spot a worryingly familiar reflection in a passing window, the young woman staring back having been a regular sight in my own bathroom mirror in a piecemeal fashion over the past week.

Thick messy brown hair hangs around her shoulders, the terrible fringe I struggled to cut helping to at lease somewhat frame my face. It had been down to my hips when I took it originally, the lengthy strands soon meeting their end after the first night of sleeping under a blanket of wet hair. My own bright blue eyes stare back at me, the pupils darting about in conjunction with my own as I take in my extremely delicate jawline and soft cheeks.

'Cute' is what it had said in the file and it wasn't wrong. Large eyes accompanying soft and delicate feminine features practically cried 'be nice to me please'. My slender neck gave away the general theme I had adopted from the derelict Swap Clinic device, my lips twisting into a pout as I glace over my trim and narrow waist and my stick-like arms.

"Could have left myself with a little bit of muscle or..." I huff, wincing again as I snap the bra strap in an effort to adjust it. "Shit, the hurts..." I grumble, meeting my gaze in the reflection once again. "I mean... Shoot, that smarts" I coo, my lips curling into a grin at the cutesy attempts to avoid the naughty words.

My eyes drift down to the real problem, the shelf of soft jiggling flesh on my chest that easily overflowed the sides of my narrow and shrunken five foot five frame. The heft of my new bust, with each breast realistically nearing being as big as my head, strained the cheap and oddly fitted bras I had fished from the moldy clothing bins in the defunct Swap Clinic and left my back and shoulders aching from the constant strain and pinching.

Drifting further down in my reflection, my chest blocking the view of my lower body beneath me without some sort of assistance, I look at my immensely wide hips and pelvis. Twisting a little I watch as my black pleated skirt flutters in the breeze and with the sudden movement, my plush ass and thicken thighs soon becoming painted by the thin material as the fabric settles. above my white knee socks.

"Adorable..." I mutter, looking at my face and blowing a kiss. "Desirable" I purr, biting my lip as I look at my chest. "And breedab...: I chuckle nervously, cocking my hips as I feel my thighs and ass shake. My cheeks rapidly burn red, my nerves quickly building as I look at the wide handholds I had left myself with.

 

"Maybe just another trip in the machine, just to make things less..." I begin to muse as I begin to lose my confidence and composure.

Suddenly, the sound of a bell rings though the air as my attention is quickly ripped to the school a block or two away. Somewhere in the aging building there had to be some physical bell, though for coverage and some sake of certainty a digitized beeping followed along with it. I jump with a start as I feel something buzzing in my cleavage, the sweaty cavern of flesh acting as a phone holder while my alarm buzzes within.

"Shi... Shoot" I grumble, struggling with my new assets as I jog slowly towards Daisy's first day of school.