Second Skin, Second Life - Part One

Slipping down the street I stagger and stumble under the heavy downpour around me. Even the light of the street lamps are dimmed in the thick haze of water, the sheets of icy cold droplets obscuring practically everything not directly in front of me.

I clutch at my navy blue sweater, tugging the collar up and over my head as I try to protect myself from the piercing impacts of the stinging rain. Glancing down I almost tumble over, the sight of the seemingly shifting sidewalk sending my off balance as the running water overflows the nearby gutter.

With a loud crack I slam into a strange sign, the siding of the bus stop glowing faintly with a flickering florescent light. With the hopeful reprieve I dive under the thin metal roof, the sound of the rain almost deafening me as I shiver and shudder in the thankfully mostly dry shelter.

Wiping the water from my face, my whole body quivering as I feel the cold creep through to my bones, I glance at the signage I had run into as I fee la warm trickle of blood begin to drip from my nose.

The image of a middle-aged woman stands side on, her tan Mediterranean complexion baring more than it's fair share of wrinkles and blemishes. She appears to be naked, though not much of anything is shown as much of her body below the next appears coated in an embrace of flowing pale skin. A younger woman's face, also in profile along with the older woman's, appears smiling and content as her body appears to break apart and flow around the woman behind her.

Give a Second Skin, a Second Life

Visit your local clinic today

Body-Boutique Protection Program - Part Two

With a loud groan the door swings open once again, the older woman reaching for her belt and beneath her jacket before slowly easing her hand down to her side.

"Agent Miller" she states, her eyes narrowing towards the figure beyond the darkened doorway. "You're early, are you that eager to get back to desk duty?" she chuckles softly, trying to ease the sudden burst of tension that had overcome her.

With straining vision I try to focus on the door frame, the flickering hypnotic lights doing little to help me see into the dim space beyond the room. Sitting stunned by the machine I watch as a skinny and top heavy young Chinese woman in her early twenties racing in, her massive bust jostling in her tight top as she looks at the machines with relief.

Body-Boutique Protection Program - Part One

Sitting in the dark damp room, the concrete walls around me faintly illuminated by two small lamps on the floor, I can't help but shiver nervously. My blood runs cold as I grip the metal bed beneath me, the memory of what had led me hear playing in my head over and over again.

Alleyway

Shouting

Gun

Bang

Over and over that night plays in my head, the sight of the dead man laying in the alley beside the entrance to my apartments god damn garage. The sirens, the interviews, and the threats all raced through my mind, a cold sweat building and leaving the cloying damp air around me feeling all the more disgusting.

I lurch up from my seat at the foot of the metal gurney as the nearby door swings open on its rusty hinges, a doughy yet well dressed stocky woman in her mid-fifties pacing into the room as she waves her hand in an attempt to settle me down.

"Calm down now Mr Hughes" she coos softly, her voice hushed as though others were listening. Glancing up at me from beneath a set of small reading glasses, her pale green eyes look be over along with the hodgepodge series of machines sitting at the far side of the room.

The soft dark haired woman, adorned in a rather expensive albeit it poorly fitted black suit, slowly plods her way towards me as she quickly checks her watch. 

"Agent Miller should be here shortly" she huffs, walking up beside the cold steel bed before slapping at the head of the uncomfortable seat with her pudgy hand. Glancing back I stare at the metal cage resting right where a pillow or something far more soft and inviting would normally be sitting, the flickering lights covering the frightening frame blinking and pulsing in an almost hypnotic fashion.

"Come now Hr Hughes" the older woman chirps, once again patting her hand beside the intimidating metal cage. "This is just standard procedure for the Body-Boutique Protection Program."

Changing Clothes - Part Three

As I begin to turn the package over I find the salmon pink continuing to the sealed lip of the envelope, the only pop of color in the plastic as the rest shifts to acting like a clear window to the clothing and accessories inside.

The same cursive writing as the logo sits at the top, this time hand written in sharpie. I cock my eyebrow, glancing between the title and the clothing as I take in the large folded graphic sweater and the carefully packed set of horn-rimmed glasses. My gaze shifts to the cursive script, my gaze quickly falling on the singular word.

 Melody

I slowly turn the package over and over, my mind abuzz with thoughts of just what it could all mean. On each turn I glance at the sweater, the black fabric adorned with a heavily worn and peeling printing of the symbol of the 'Village Hidden in the Leaves' from Naruto.

"Melody?" I mutter, pouting slightly as I move to open the package. "Like... a song?..." my musings continue, unsure as to what the title was actually referring to. Was it a name? A skill? A hobby or just a vibe?

Even as I open the package and gently pull the glasses free none of my questions are answered. I watch as the thick and heavy sweater tumbles to the floor, the folded bundle of mass produced clothing doing little to illuminate the person behind the outfit. Reaching down I slowly grab the sweater by the collar, lifting it as it unfurls into a rather large item of clothing. I'm so taken aback by the size of the sweater, easily being into the range of needing multiple X's ahead of the L on its label, that I don't even notice the pair of large plain beige 'granny panties' that tumble out from within the folds of the sweater.

Lights, Camera, Change! - Part Three

My turbulent fall slowly begins to steady out, my face pointing towards one of the distant flickering motes of light as it begins to draw closer and closer. Soon it looms large before me, consuming my vision as I'm forced to shield my eyes from the searing and painful luminescence.

As I touch the surface I feel some sense of resistance, a fleeting moment where the outer surface seems to try to protect itself from me only to eventually lose out to the force behind me fall.

Suddenly I'm consumed in darkness, my heart racing as I drip with cold sweat. My eyes snap open as I rouse from my sleep, my gaze whipping around in terror. With a sharp gasp I find myself in a small open plan office, a frosted glass wall overlooking some area below, my diminutive body laying on a sofa and surrounded by various boxes and labels.

Despite the low light filling the room, the only illumination coming through the frosted glass and the space beyond, I can clearly make up the long strands of copper orange hair clinging to my sweaty face. I cough and splutter as I try to shift it from my lips, only to have something tumble from the bridge of my nose as the room suddenly shifts to blobs of indistinct blurs.

Instinctively I reach for the floor, rolling partway off the pale beige sofa to paw at the ground. A yelp escapes my lips, my voice squeaky and high pitched, as I feel my hair pull beneath me and my chest squish uncomfortably into the firm cushions.

Lights, Camera, Change! - Part Two

Facing the crowd I watch as the host steps in front of me, a menacing grin spreading across her lips as she gives me a light push into the cabinet. The second I step inside the door slams shut, a loud ear-piercing hiss filling the cramped space as a faint fog begins to build around me feet.

"Okay everybody" the host calls, her voice barely coming in through the thick glass walls of my claustrophobic tomb. "Do you think Mr Hughes is ready to... LIGHTS...CAMERA...CHANGE?"

I watch as the cool mist billowing around my feet appears to be drawn towards the glass walls, wisps of the thick white haze licking up against the transparent panes and clinging to them as if magnetized somehow.

The Hostess strides to the side of the tank, shooting me a devious glance as her lips curl into a slight sadistic grin. By the the time she turns back to the crowd her expression has shifted to one of exaggerated thought.

"Let's start off with a crowd favorite" she coos, a snicker slipping from her lips as she looks back at me. "Sex! I mean, we need to work out what we're working with before we get any further with the..." she begins to explain, pausing as her eyes glance down at my crotch.

Lights, Camera, Change! - Part One

The murmurs of the crowd slowly grow louder and louder as I pace my way up and down the small walkway from the changing rooms to darkened space backstage. Staff with headsets race past as they get ready for the start of filming, the narrow passage resulting in constant bumps and scraps as the crew dart back and forth.

"Mr Hughes!" calls a middle aged woman in tight black clothes from the end of the hallway, her lithe rake-like form becoming lost in the darkness of the staging area behind her. Her curled blonde hair hangs about her shoulders rather stiffly, a can of hairspray likely having been used to keep it in place.

Snapping around to look at the woman she cocks an eyebrow, adjusting a set of half-moon glasses as she look at a clipboard. She bites at the tip of her pen, revealing a set of coffee stained teeth before she quickly moves to circle something.

"Don't just stand there!" she barks, snappily gesturing for me to get closer so she doesn't have to shout. With a small jump I race over, pausing in place as she stares daggers at me.

"Make.. Up..." she mouths with her thin lips, her muddy brown eyes focusing on me with deep anger and frustration. "Don't... Run...Walk..."

I slowly begin to approach the woman, her foot tapping sharply against the hardwood floor impatiently. As I get close enough to smell her seemingly unhealthy hairspray use she finally begins to speak again, her eyes looking me over as she sizes me up.

"It... looks like it hasn't run too much" she states, licking her thumb before using it to smudge something on my cheek. "Did we not have something in wardrobe a little better fitting? I..." she sighs, pouting as she thinks to herself. "No... no, I suppose we aren't working with much here."

Changing Clothes: Rachel - Part Seven

I'm snapped from my thought with the jingle of metal beside my ear. Turning around I look over at Rachel, the elderly woman jingling a set of keys at me with a grin spread across her lips. Cocking an eyebrow my gaze darts between her, the keys and the island as I try to work out just where I would be staying.

"Are those..." I begin to ask, pausing as Rachel rolls her eyes.

"Your room keys? Yes, and you have no idea how difficult it was to get them" Rachel sighs, placing the shimmering silver key into my palm. I look at the elderly woman in confusion, my eye twitching slightly as I try to wrap my head around her words.

"Difficult?..." I muse, looking down at the key before looking for Victoria in the crowd amassed around the railing. "I thought you said Victoria was desperate to have Luci come" I hiss through gritted teeth, watching as the older woman shrugs her shoulders slightly.

"She did..." she says with a croaking giggle. "We just didn't RSVP in time. Don't worry though, we found space for you... barely..." she explains, sighing a little.

"Where..." I begin to grumble, only to be cut off by Rachel.

"Oh Luci, with such late notice... We pulled some strings and managed to find you room in one of the cabins. Hopefully they finished the maintenance" Rachel explains, raising one of the wine glasses to her lips as she takes a long thoughtful sip. "It is on the far side of the island though, hence the maintenance, hopefully the fresh paint smell will be aired out before we..."

The older woman pauses mid-sentence as she looks at me, her gaze narrowing as she notices a brief fleeting look of relief spread across my adorable face.