"Do I... need to pick something?" I ask, adjusting my jeans as I feel my mighty ten-inch cock shift in my boxers. "I... there wasn't anything there that I really... you know... it's hard to pick them just from looking at the... right?" I bleat and blubber, unable to really form a coherent answer.
Mr Marigold pauses for a moment, stroking his chin in thought as he glances to my and then to the magical stage equipment with a discerning eye. After a brief pause he shakes his head, the massive top hat jostling in a worrying fashion as he begins to speak.
"Well... I..."Am afraid I must insist you pick something, otherwise you may wind up with nothing... below deck at it were, and we can't have that" Mr Marigold sighs, giving me a little shrug. "Each compartment needs to be filled I'm afraid, why don't you explore a little more good sir? I'm certain you will find something to your liking soon enough."
I give a short sigh myself as I look down, the thought of giving up my cock making my stomach sink. However, as I glance back to the rather attractive assortment of parts in the boxes the urge to finish what I started becomes all to great to avoid.
"Fine..." I mutter, spinning around and heading back towards the shelves once more. "I'll be back soon" I call out behind me, hurrying along as I delve back into the strange selection.
The trek back around the shelves is a long yet uneventful one. I cast my gaze back over what I had already rifled through, my lips pursing and pouting as I don't find any missed hidden gems or really anything to pull me away from what I had already picked.
From simply the faces of more drunken businessmen to the full torso of a hairy and unmistakably pregnant Asian woman, it's difficult to see really any of what I had passed by being more desirable than what I had.
Reaching the two shelves of bare exposed genitals I wince, the sight of the erect severed junk leaving me feeling almost queasy. Looking over the various cocks I find one thing in common between them, none were a comparable match for what dangled between my legs. Bent, shriveled, and otherwise terribly unremarkable specimens litter the shelves,
I have to stifle a laugh at the sight of a tiny little olive-toned one that was about the same size as my thumb, the sight of the pathetic little thing finally making me slump in defeat.
"Fuck me..." I groan, spinning around at I find myself staring at a wall of pussy in all shapes and sizes. "Guess... shit... guess I'm going full woman..."
The cunts lined up along the rows of shelves don't fair all too much better than the cocks across from them. Disembodied and without any other features it's almost impossible to get any sort of grasp on which ones are... good. Thick and engorged clits sit above loose flapping labia, another sits open and gaping as it appears to drool eagerly onto its hard wood resting place.
I pause as I spot one, a soft squishy mound resting with a cute little pink slit sitting in plain view. The added soft layer of plush pale flab is really the only issue with the otherwise picture perfect pussy. Reaching out I feel my fingers brush against and prod gently into the mound, the flesh jiggling slightly and yielding to the touch.
I sigh as I wrap my fingers around the whole thing, picking it up without testing it in the middle of the aisle.
"Guess I'll be watching out for camel toe..." I weakly chuckle, my fingers sinking into the supple flesh as I hold it all like a ball. "Yoga pants will be... Will I even wear yoga pants?..." I muse to myself, wandering down towards the next section.
My chuckling slowly comes to an end as I freeze at the sight of the next series of rack. Asses, literally sets of fatty cheeks and muscle sit weighing down and collecting at the bottom of each clear plastic bag. Hair and cellulite are the first things I begin to notice, numerous items on display appearing more used and well worn than others.
I manage to find a dark caramel-toned and deeply tan set of extremely plump and round cheeks, the curvy forms resting next to a far more modest and pert set with a more olive skinned tone to them. Pausing as I look between the two I try to find any really blemish or fault, aside from the size and the difference in skin tone they otherwise seemed like two potential options.
"I'm not sure the pert little... well with those hips..." I mutter to myself, my mind slowly turning less from impulse purchases to trying to pair the parts with what I had already picked out. I begin to take the large dark caramel toned cheeks as I pause, the bag bouncing and squishing against another wedged between it and a wide somewhat saggy rear with visible stretch marks.
Two huge full pale ass cheeks sit jiggling in there own little bag, the juicy flesh roiling after the impact before returning to a remarkably parky state. Mentally I begin to think of the hips, my mind dredging up their image as I try to imagine just which set suited the wide pelvis I had unfortunately chosen.
"I think... you fit best..." I muse, grabbing the enormous pale and perky rear from the rack. I bundle the tight yet thick rear in my arms, nestling my forearm between the cheeks as I hold it to my chest. "Fuck me..." I wheeze, feeling the heft of the soft supple fat jiggle as I walk. "I... maybe I'd be..." I mutter and muse, hemming and hawing as I walk away to the last section of the show floor.
With the magician's boxes back in view I slowly trudge, new ass and pussy in hand, through two rows of legs and their accompanying feet. The limbs, much like the arms beforehand, kick and flail on occasion as they seem to search for their lost bodies or perhaps out of simple instinct and impulse. Regardless, I slowly begin my final inspection, my whole body recoiling as the first legs I find are sever and sutured just below the knee.
"Jesus..." I mutter, looking at what was left of a tattoo on the legs. "Definitely not..."
Stock and sturdy, hairy and lanky, even several long and fit legs in all different skin tones quickly pass me by. My mind turns back to the tiny torso balancing in the center box. Long was out of the question, the strange proportions not being something I would want to be stuck with for any prolonged length of time.
I pause by a larger bag towards the end of the first rack, a thick and dough full lower half of a middle aged woman with deep stretch marks around her thighs and rear. Recoiling at the sight, it does get me thinking, considering my proposed new rear and squishy pussy perhaps a softer lower half would help pt balance things out.
I walk past a set of slender legs dotted with various black dot tattoos and poorly re-done ink, my stride slowing as I find something that matched the aesthetic of this proposed bottom half. Thick and squishy pale freckled thighs squeeze together in the sealed bag. Slight stretch marks mar the pale flesh, the thankfully rather youthful limbs having handled their growing flab fairly well all things considered.
With one last look around I grab the legs with a bit of a pained wheeze, my arms shaking slightly as I try to juggle the disassembled lower half in an effort to not drop or damage anything. I slowly begin to waddle my way back towards the boxes, the flabby thighs and ass constantly threatening to through me off balance.
"Why welcome back young lady" Mr Marigold chuckles, watching me shamble my way over with a series of thick and bloated limbs. I glance at him from over a freckled thigh, shooting him a look of confusion. Mr Marigold's laugh builds a little as he waves at me dismissively, his mustache bouncing as he cackles.
"Well I need to get in some practice, and I certainly won't be calling you good fellow once you look like..." he states, gesturing towards the wide-eyed innocent young woman's face and the large rack in the boxes already.
I don't respond, merely rolling my eyes as I place the remaining parts into their respective spaces. Stepping back I try to make sense of the sight before me, the spread out nature of the boxes making it difficult to really get a sense for how everything will look once its put together. As I stand back Mr Marigold quickly sets about his own work, the strange lanky gentlemen sliding a black cover over the boxes as her begins to fish out a collection of curved blades.
I open my mouth to speak up, only to yelp in surprise as the older man slides one blade after the other into the boxes with a deft hand and a slight metallic scrape. Blade after blade is quickly plunged in between the gaps in the boxes, the whole set soon sitting buried to the hilt into the black painted wood.
"Alright..." Mr Marigold pants slightly, the older man not being a spry as he was in his youth. "If you could just step this way we can begin the act." He gestures toward the empty boxes beside the covered ones, my blood running cold as I catch a glimpse of sharpen steel resting behind it.
Mr Marigold narrows his gaze at me, catching my hesitation as he stands by the empty magic equipment.
"Young man?" he starts, cocking an eyebrow. "Not having cold feet are we now? assure you, I'm a professional. I've conduct this more times than I can count, so if you would please take your place inside the boxes I will start the show and you can get yourself home."
With my heart pounding in my chest I slowly approach the older man, giving him one last tentative look as I slowly back into the boxes. The rough cut wood threatens my wrists and neck with splinters as I wriggle inside, my body needing to hunch a little due to the less than accommodating size.
"So what will hap..." I begin to mutter, my words suddenly falling short as a thick wooden board is drawn across the contraption as I quickly becomes more like a coffin. Before I can call out for help I feel a thin cold sheet of metal pass through my neck. My voice catches in my throat, my lung unable to take in or expel air as the intruding steel acts as a separating barrier.
Blade after blade is plunged into the boxes around me, my body being picked apart piecemeal before finally the barrage comes to a sudden end. A hard set of knuckles tap at the box rhythmically, my head beginning to swim as I find the lack of oxygen slowly taking its toll.
After another set of knocks I listen as the blades are quickly pulled from the other set of boxes, the sound soon followed by loud foot falls as the steel separating my limbs are hastily ripped out in a series of flourishes. I gasp loudly as I feel the air rush out of my lungs, stale and sickly as though it had been trapped there for months, my voice soft and heavenly as it fills the cramped little space.
I barely have a moment to collect my thoughts as I hear Mr Marigold clutch at the wooden panel sealing me in, the older man chuckling.
"Thank you for your patronage young miss, I am certain once we find where your parts have scattered off we will find them wonderful new homes" he states, my heart skipping a beat as he explains himself.
"W.. wait!" I squeal, flinching as I hear the delicate and dulcet tones escaping my lips. "How do I..."
"Have a lovely life!" he laughs, pulling the wooden panel away as I lurch out and into a bright blinding light.
My chest heaves as I stumble out into the void of white, my hips popping as I try to gt a grasp on my new gait. I feel denim rubbing on denim as I move my legs, my thick and juicy thighs grinding against one another with each step as the rough fabric acts as a bit of a barrier.
As the light dies down I find myself stumbling through my front door, the world around me framed by black plastic and only observed through thick glass lens. The living room feels larger in an instant, the ceiling standing higher than it ever had before while the little green sofa seemed immediately more reasonably sized.
"What the..." I huff, my voice faltering as the angelic and beautiful cooing slips from my plush little bowed lips. As I flinch at the sound as curtain of strawberry blonde hair quickly tumbles down in front of my face. I feel the strands pull as I feel the terribly long red strands get caught under foot, my whole body tumbling as I twist to land roughly on the couch.
As my chest squishes painfully beneath me I let out a cry of shock, the massive flabby mounds pooling out across the couch cushion before I finally manage to roll off of them.
Panting for air, the sudden barrage of stimuli leaving me panicked and my heart racing, I try to calm down. Laying in what feels like a blanket of hair I look down at myself, my eyes going wide as I find my body clad in the same set of loose jeans and black t-shirt I had worn to the strange alleyway. It is resized of course, though still a men's cut, the shrunken top tenting out as my unrestrained tits turn to puddles of swollen fat while I lay on my side.
My jeans are rolled up at the ankle quick a bit, the pale blue denim jeans needing to be a size sizes too leg to fit my expanded hips despite my diminished legs. The wet boots on my delicate little feet are even the same brand I had worn before, the shoes feeling a size or so too large while additional padding attempts to make up for the extra room.
The room itself also appears largely unchanged, the same games sitting on the shelves around the same TV that had sat there for years. The same mug of coffee I had left on the counter this morning rests next to my phone right where I left it when I forgot it at home before heading out in the evening.
"Pho... MY WALLET!" I squeak, my dark-skinned hands flying into my pocket as I rip the heavily worn brown leather fold from my pants. I double take as I stare at my hands for a moment, the slender delicate digits standing in stark contrast to the pale white arms they were attached to. I mentally blank at the moment as I look at the seam, the dark chocolate colored flesh already receding ever so slightly as the arms begin to assert their dominance.
Swallowing hard I pull open my wallet, my fingers fishing around for my ID.
"Clothes... same... apartment... same..." I mutter, wheezing a little as I struggle to reckon with the sweet cooing voice slipping being something that was actually coming from me. I knew that this body was made of various parts and, while the mind behind it may belong to a man of a certain age hence the clothes and aesthetic around the apartment, I simply had no clue how that would effect my reality in other ways.
As I stare at my driver's license my gaze darts straight to the name, my gaze locking to the field as I blow a wave of strawberry blonde hair from my face.
Name:...
Age:...
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