Early Reitrement - Part Three

Between glasses and a few minor cosmetic changes I quickly finish off, my eyes darting up to my cart as I add it to my calculator app. My lips quiver as I quickly begin to type away on the device, my pounding heart leaving my hands shaky as I try to avoid any sort of miscalculation.

"Five-forty-five... plus the three-hundred..." I huff, working out how much I would have left at the end of things and after buying my hypothetical house. "That between a high yield... and term deposits should equal...thirty-six thousand in income... so like... seven hundred a week..." I muse, slumping back in the seat as I stare at the cart in disbelief.

Biting my lower lip I reach up to the cart, slowly exhaling as I tap through to proceed wit the sales and purchases.

"I've lived off of less... and without rent... that's basically..." I ramble, trying to justify my decision only to be cut short the moment I tap 'Confirm'

"Mr Hughes!" shouts the woman from reception, the short middle-aged receptionist looking out around the room. "Mr Hughes, please come to the counter" 

Re-Role - Part Three

As darkness consumes my vision I'm left floating for a moment in a complete sense of warmth, the lack of any tactile sensations around me leaving me with only the dull and comforting heat subsuming my whole being.

Sadly, even that delightful comfort ends as the world returns in a vibrant crash of color and sound. The air is knocked from my lungs and my eyes burn with a horrible pain as the sudden shift in light leaves me momentarily blinded and dazzled.

It takes a second before I can even make out the noise around me, my mind rapidly piecing together the various stimuli before focusing in on the least offensive one first. I focus, my mind sluggish from the onslaught of sensation as I finally manage to make sense of the noise bearing down on me.

"Welcome, to Manga-Kon 2012" a voice booms over a nearby speaker "Please keep your badge visible at all times"

Re-Role - Part Two

A low sigh followed by a slight whistle emanates from the other side of the room. Despite the noises the older man was making the machine doesn't seem to die down in the slightest, the scent of ozone only building more intense as it feels as though the building static is frying away the hair on my arms and legs.

"Well Mr. Hughes, it looks like you're in need of a correction..." the man mutters, my heart skipping a beat even with his matter of fact tone. I try to speak only to find my jaw held tightly by the vice-like grip of the headgear.

 

"It looks like your mother and father were meant to have a daughter" the technician states, his deep booming voice lacking much in the way of surprise or emotion. His tone lightens as his foot steps pace deeper in to the room and further away from me, a series of sharp plastic clicks soon following as he fiddles with something beyond my view.

"Over all? Not that drastic a change" he muses, almost relieved by the fact I was meant to be something so similar to my old life. "I had a young woman in here the other day who ended up as her father's older broth..." he begins to explain, as if someone having things worse was meant to make this better.

Early Reitrement - Part Two

Unfortunately, I couldn't see the prices the Swap Clinic was offering without going into one of their branches. There was no way to tell just how much I would need to add to the rather ample sum I had been left as a part of my grandmother's inheritance. When she had passed, her large family home had been sold off as a part of the estate, the multi-story home having been bought for a reasonable sum in the 1940's now easily drawing in well over a million dollars.

For my part, my grandma had left me a sizeable chunk of the funds from that sale. The wayward grandson, the one seeming to flounder in his thirties apparently needing the leg up even more than her own daughters. 

I had left the lawyer's offices $750,000 dollars richer, and having drawn the ire and jealousy of many of my own family. Still, it was not enough to merely retire on, not without a home to call my own. However, a trip to Swap Clinic could easily solve that issue.

Re-Role - Part One

"Almost done Mr Hughes..." mutters the deep voice from across the room, the older man hiding just beyond my line of sight as I sit with my head locked in place. Supple rubber grips cling to my temples and forehead, holding my head from turning while a simple chin rest and plate atop my skull keeps me from moving up or down.

My skin prickles and my hair stands on end, the scent of ozone flooding my nostrils as my eyes slowly begin to water. Despite this I try my best to hold still, my breathing short and shallow as I try not to disrupt the scan.

We had failed four times today already, a sneeze from the first rush of the strange chemical smell to a slight wince or sharp breath as the odd energy felt as though it was crackling across my skin. The idea that people did this, day in and day out, seemed nearly impossible.

Despite this, it had become a very necessary diagnostic for many. Less so for medical and more for existential reasons.

Early Retirement - Part One

Standing in the queue of the Swap Clinic waiting room I shuffle awkwardly, my hands wringing themselves before darting in and out of my pockets in search of something to distract me before repeating the process over and over again. The waiting room, while quiet, is certainly not empty. Nearly a dozen other patrons sit around the room, spaced out seemingly for privacy as they slowly tap away at a small tablet in Swap Clinic branded hard cases.

"Just like a catalogue" I think to myself, my eyes darting to a pimply and rather heavy-set young woman as she holds up the screen for an older woman to review.

Changing Clothes - Part Five

With another yank I'm tugged forward, the goth girl quickly nudging the now oversized shoes towards me as I stumble into them. Clothes from the pile scatter across my floor as I'm pulled and yanked towards the door and the corridor beyond.

"Come on..." Gracie huffs, her hand release my arm before grabbing my own sweaty palm. "I am not starting my shift late again..."

As I'm dragged out the door I manage to grab A handful of the strange sealed clothing, my fingers finding purchase on various bulging packages. My fingers dig into several of the pink plastic bags, the fabric inside each yielding as I tighten my grip around them.

One after another tumble from my grasp, my stomach sinking as the sight of the packages bouncing off the hardwood floor before I quickly bring the remaining three packages to my heavily sagging chest as I clutch the packages as tightly as I can.

The sound of jingling keys ring in my ear as Gracie snatches my apartment keys from a small hook by the door, the goth pausing for a moment as she glances down at the shoes on the floor.

"Come on!" she snaps, kicking one of the sneakers as it bounces off my foot. "Do I have to do everything for you?"

Changing Clothes - Part Four

"Oh my..." I wheeze, my voice coming out in a sweet yet husky croak as I feel my chin wiggle slightly. With each wheezing breath I feel my chest rise and fall, the mammoth weights rubbing uncomfortably inside the woolen sweater with each clawing gasp. My belly and waist fare little better, the deep inhalations causing me to feel the pile of flab stretching the skin around my abdomen and hips.

Fidgeting with the sweater I soon find the hem hanging around my mid-thigh, the oversized sweater seemingly acting as a sort of cozy 'while-at-home' dress. Titling my head slightly, a cascade of light brown extremely blurry strands falling into my field of view, I spot the glasses on the sofa and worse yet the large and wide panties resting on the floor.

My head spins, my heart racing at an uncomfortable rate as I part my plump lips. My soft rounded cheeks burn hot with a sense of embarrassment as I lay splayed on the floor, the sensation only growing worse as I feel my thick thighs press against each other with the usual obstruction between my legs failing to make any sort of appearance.

Flailing slightly in the clothing pile I try to get a grip on this new body, my mind racing with dozens of trains of thought all at once as I try to work out what I should do. 

Suddenly, I am broken from my desperate and panicked thoughts as Gracie barges her way into the room with a frustrated scowl across her face.

Lights, Camera, Change! - Part Nine

On the stage the large glass box filled with the now rather familiar fog is rolled out, the Hostess looking towards it as the studio audience roars with excitement.

"That's right..." The Hostess announces, gesturing towards the strange device. "It's time to bring one of our contestant's back home, back to their own body, and out of the running to win our fabulous grand prize" she continues, the crowd going wild at the mention of the life changing money on the other end of one contestant's journey through a new reality.

"Ms Hughes escaped early elimination for her little nap, but can she avoid it again? Maybe Mr Jones should be given his life back, I'm certain sleeping in a car can't be good for his back she laughs, referring to another contestant as the votes begin to roll in.

"We'll be back with the results... right after this commercial break."

The digits beneath each image of a sleeping stranger quickly begin to race up, those beneath my own barely squeaking into double digits as seemingly one of the more popular contestants. Racing up to over fifty percent of the vote an image of a handsome stubbly man in his mid-thirties suddenly vanishes in a bout of smog, the glass box in the center of the room glowing as they attempt to retrieve the contestant from their distant reality. 

"It's seems Mr Douglas' family life was not all that attention grabbing" the Hostess coos, a loud thump coming from the smokey glass device in the center of the stage as a tiny pudgy feminine hand presses against the glass from the inside.

Lights, Camera, Change! - Part Eight

As I reach the steps down to the lane way and the parking lot beyond I immediately spot the pacing sight of Bridgette, the over six foot tall athletic young woman being difficult to miss and she shuffles around beside my old sedan.

Inching down the steps she spots me, my bright copper red hair likely not doing me any favors in subtly. She waves wildly at me, watching for a moment as I heft my tiny frame and heavy backpack across the lane before bolting over.

"Babe let me get..." she whine, her voice dripping with concern as she practically pulls the backpack off of me and effortlessly slings it over one shoulder. Her free hand clutches at the large gym bag she had carried this morning, the large black denim bag appearing to crumple and squish around whatever was inside.

"Thanks..." I sigh, my body feeling leagues lighter as the weight is pulled off my shoulders. It was like everything was relative, the straps of my bra having been completely ignored all day as the ache and pain from carrying the bag consumed my thoughts more presently. "What are... were you waiting for me?" I ask meekly, adjusting my glasses a little as I look up at the practical amazonian in front of me.

Bridgette rubs at the back of her neck nervously, her face turning red as she looks up and away for a moment.

"Kinda..." she mutters, her husky voice shaking a little. "I was.. well I was going to ask...My parents are out of town and... well, do you think you could maybe stay the night?" I watch as the tan young brunette, bites at her bottom lip, her shoulders slumping as she shrinks away a little out of nerves as she takes a shot.

My stomach fills with butterflies as I look up at her, my face twitching as I'm practically forced to wear a silly giddy grin.

"I'll need directions..." I state, walking around to the driver's side door. Pausing slightly as I realize just how that sounds. "I mean, where can I park and stuff."

Mr Marigold's Magician's Box - Part Three

"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.

Lights, Camera, Change! - Part Seven

"Can you... walk me to class?" I ask, my eyes darting to the backpack as I quickly realize I had no idea where or what I was meant to do once I made it into the school. Bridgette suddenly perks up, her hangdog expression shifting rapidly to an excited grin as I ask for help.

"Sure!" she blurts out excitedly, the towering woman quickly leading me away from the car and towards the side entrance to the first large brick building. "I'll take you there and... and I can carry your bag for you. Why is it so heavy? You shouldn't be carrying something like..."

"Thanks honey" I coo, raising her hand up with my own as I plant a little kiss on it.

I watch as Bridgette's cheeks begin to burn bright red, the tiny sliver of affection seemingly doing more than our brief make out session in the parking lot. Her sentence falls short, a pathetic mewling blabber consuming her words before she manages to shut herself up.

"I... I think you have English first right?" Bridgette chokes out, her breath shuddering as we pass over the lane way to the parking lot and begin up the short set of steps. "Lots of books for that I... I guess..."

The trip to the classroom itself is rather uneventful, if a little disconcerting. The sheer domineering size of everything around me set my teeth on edge, from the teenagers who were easily over a head taller than me now to the top lockers being simply out of reach. Thankfully Bridgette seems more than happy to carve us a path to my first class, the towering young woman getting a soft and lingering kiss as a reward before she passes me my bag and races off to follow her own timetable.

Strangely enough the desk and seat feel almost roomy as I slide into it, my shrunken stature doing wonders as I wriggle into place. The aging CRT screen in the corner suddenly grows pale and misty as the audience sets up to watch my class, a shiver running down my spine as I stare directly into it.

To get my mind off of things I quickly begin to search my backpack, a small black leather diary thankfully resting atop the pile of text books and literature as I snatch it out. Inside I find a timetable on the front page, each day of the week followed by a series of classes and room numbers.

"I can work with this..." I squeak, quickly finding that each day started differently. "I just need to work out what... day it is..."

Personal Ad-option - Part One

Walking through the park, basking in the midday sun, I also follow the winding path between flowers in mid-bloom. Bees buzz past me as they dart from flower to flower, each drone seeking pollen for the hive while the sound of bird chirp in distant trees.

It was a perfect day, warm and relaxing with not a care in the world. Or at least the cares that I had were pushed to the back of my mind, thoughts like 'How am I going to pay rent this month?' or 'Will I ever find another teaching job?' were simply left on the doorstep on days like this. My headphone lightly jingle with soothing classical music, the soft piano doing much to calm be down from my woes in conjunction with the brilliant scenery around me.

After over an hour of my strolling a heavy buzz erupts from my pocket, my hand moving towards it as I pause. Glancing down the trail I spot a small little outdoor lakeside cafe, a tiny dirt path leading off the track towards it invitingly.

"May as well..." I mutter to myself, plodding off to fetch myself a coffee before checking my notification.

After a few minutes I find myself seated by the end of a large deck, the shimmering water glistening with sparkles of caught sunlight. As I wait for my coffee to cool I pull my phone from my pocket, my heart skipping a beat and catching in my throat as I read the short line of text.

"You have new a message in your inbox - Personal Ad-option"

Mr Marigold's Magician's Box - Part Two

After a short pause he flicks his wrist, producing the purple ticket I had place in the door before repeating the motion as it vanishes again.

"...You however, have been gifted one free session" he explains, gesturing to the many racks and shelves. "Most outside of the community don't get such an opportunity, do you perhaps have a family member who is a part of the pro..." he begins to ask, pausing and cutting himself off as he waves his hand.

"Never mind that..." he states, not letting me get a word in edge wise. "Simply pick out what you would like from the shelves and bring them to the boxes, once you're ready simply climb inside the empty set and I will start the show!"

I stare blankly at him for a moment, blinking in disbelief as he looks down at me with a delighted grin. Slowly but surely his smile begins to fade, his joy being replaced with a look of confusion.

"Well dear fellow?" he mutters, gesturing towards the shelves and racks with a flick of his wrist and a wave of his hand. "Explore, indulge, cavort, and enjoy the..." he begins to state, only to finally get get off by me.

"What do you mean by..." I huff, my eyes going wide as I look to the various neatly packed or stacked body parts. "Are you telling me these are people and.. and I'm meant to be?... Wear?... I mean..." I blabber, the older gentlemen looking at me in a mixture of frustration and confusion.

"Why yes my good fellow" he states, cocking a thick black eyebrow. "Theses did in fact belong to others, and you may in fact take them for yourself should you so..." he explains shortly, his words tense and tightly packed. "Did the one who granted you this boon not explain this to..." he begins to huff, revealing the ticket once more as he holds it between his hands.

"I got that at a bar from some guy who..." I blurt back, my heart hammering in my chest as the reality of the strange situation begins to set in.

Lights, Camera, Change! - Part Six

Opening the car door I brace for the cold, a whimpering shudder wracking me as I leap out of the sedan. "Cold... cold cold cold..." I pant, rubbing at my stick-like arms in an effort to warm up while inadvertently and disconcertingly squishing my bust with my forearms. I turn to get my bag, leaning in as my plump rear stick out while I snatch at one of the straps.

Suddenly, I feel a hand snake around my flat stomach before pulling me back. I squeal in shock, my feather light body being slightly lifted off the ground as I'm embraced from behind. My heart hammers in my chest, my breath going ragged in terror, though the heat from the person behind me threatens to leave me melting.

"Hey Jordy" coos a voice in my ear, their warm breath on my neck leaving my knees shaking a little. "I got your bag" the state, wrapping an arm around my waist they guide me to the side. As I stagger back, still held firmly by the stranger, I watch as they lower down to grab my overly heavy bag. 

I bite the inside of my lip as my eyes lock to the towering and extremely fit young brunette with a gym bag in one hand, her muscular frame being painted by a tight set of yoga shorts and a sports bra. My mouth falls open, my eyes locked to the practical amazon's thick toned thighs and plush taut rear as she leans across the seat, a shuddering breath escaping my plush lips as I find a warmth flashing through me.

As she stand back up she slings the heavy backpack effortlessly over her shoulder, the massive seeming young woman flashing me a grin as she gets the strap in place.

Mr Marigold's Magician's Box - Part One

Shivering in the evening chill I trudge down the dim dank alleyway, my boots splashing in foul sour-scented pools of what I can only hope is water. My clammy hands clutch at a small purple ticket tightly, my knuckles white as I grip the cheap plastic rectangle.

The alley itself is much like any other, graffiti and tags sprayed against the brick walls while large dumpsters force me to weave and squeeze my way down the narrow path. I freeze as I hear something squeak and skitter in the darkness, a flash of fur diving down beneath one of the dumpsters as a long pink tail thrashes about behind it.

A simple light sits a decent way up the plain brick wall at the far end of the alley, the squat and long broken green plastic revealing the fluorescent bar within. As I draw closer I cock an eyebrow, my gaze shifting over the plain brick wall in confusion.

"I could have swor..." I mutter, looking back towards the entrance to the alley. I bite at my bottom lip, wracking my brain as I try to remember what I had been told only a few days ago. Sure, I may have been more than a little drunk at the time, but I should have remembered a simple set of directions.

As I approach the wall something begins to stand out in the plain and simple red brick wall. An arch of bricks, still layered in the same pattern as the rest, fail to really blend in with the rest thanks to their slightly darker and muddy hue. Squinting at it, purposely blurring my vision, it almost looks like a door frame inlaid into into the brickwork.

With a little burst of speed I approach the wall, my right hand patting the bricks in search of something... different. However, despite seemingly having found the right place it still looks and feels just like any other wall. Before long I find something, a slight gap in the mortar at around waist height. Sizing it up for a moment I hold out the ticket, measuring it up as I read the overly dramatic and cursive text.

The Marvelous Mr Marigold's

Menagerie of Magical 'Mishaps'

Magician's Boxes - One Free Use

Lights, Camera, Change! - Part Five

The crowd murmurs slightly, only for a group gasp to rip through them as their little displays begin to light up.

"She knew the rules about sleeping" the Hostess smirks, shrugging her shoulders. "Maybe she doesn't want to win the grand prize, I'm sure she'd be happy with coming back as the fastest loser in the games history."

Waiting for a moment for the snickering and laughter of the crowd to die down the Hostess looks off to the side of the stage, the older director of Lights, Camera, Change! giving her a little nod before finally mouthing 'First Vote'.

"But after spending so long on making her like this, it would be a shame to send her off so unceremoniously. While we usually have our first vote when all contestant's go to sleep for the day I suppose we can start with Ms Hughes" The Hostess announces, the crowd cheering excitedly.

"We'll work something else out in the broadcast, but as a special treat and a first in Lights, Camera, Change! history you get to not only make the the whole of the contestant's new body but you also get to decide their fate by yourselves!"

As the crowd roars with excitement the sound of the various beeps and bloops of their displays being selected and locked in begin to take over the room. The image of my sleeping form on the screen being overlayed with the various percentages of the vote.

The Hostess smirks as she watches one of the bars race to the other end of the screen, the crowd voting overwhelmingly for me to stay on the show with only a single vote from someone in the audience to end my time in the competition.

Lights, Camera, Change! - Part Four

Exiting the stairwell I find myself in the entrance hall for some sort of museum, a small front desk sitting to my right and beside a large set of antique wooden doors with one siting wide open in an inviting manner. Across from the stairwell sits a small lounge area, a small set of antique stools and tables all in view of the front desk.

To the left rest large glass cabinets filled with all manner of ancient looking tools and pieces of clothing with a large spinning wheel sitting in the center of it all. A large arch way sits along the left hand wall, a passage way leading deeper into the building, while above it rests a large glass window looking into a small office space above.

Swallowing hard I return my attention to the phone, my eyes darting over the various addresses in the app until one seems to repeat far too many times.

"Farrier Road" I mutter, smirking as I read the address aloud. "That's... quaint..." I chuckle, the laughter coming out in a cutesy giggle thanks to this new voice. Quickly punching the address into my phone's GPS it begins to autofill, a smirk spreading across my lips as I feel like I had cracked some sort of mystery.

Taking a deep breath I begin to walk towards the open door, yawning involuntarily as I feel my eye lids grow heavy. "Okay..." I sigh, rubbing my eyes from behind the thick glasses. "Just need to get home, and from there..." I state, giving myself a pep talk only to trail off. "I... I have no idea."

Ritual Reborn - Part One

The scratching of chalk and the sounds of strained wheezing breathes fill my apartment, hastily reorganized living room sitting bare but for my hunched and coughing figure looming over the intricate circles etched onto the dark creaking wooden floor.

The overturned coffee table and shifted sofa lay illuminated by a series of dwindling candles, the long red sticks having diminished in size quite substantially since the start of the evening.

"Come on..." I groan with a hoarse cough, sweat dripping from my brow as I pray that some errant droplet doesn't undo hours of work in an instant. Fever wracks my shivering frame, infection ravaging my body to the point it was almost a miracle that I managed to pull myself from bed let alone move the furniture.

It had been weeks since the illness had set in, a terrible infection that had left me largely bedridden. I had managed to get by with the help of my neighbors, their kindness taking the form of the occasional load of washing or tuperware container of food. However, try as I might the illness had continued to burn though me as my fever refused to break. Delirious, having been forced awake for days at a time, I was at my breaking point.

In that moment my panicked and slipping mind had turned to some other means to make myself well once again, my deranged thoughts turning to the small box I had once collected within my old desk.

Candles, chalk, and strips of papyrus sat within the small shoebox, a series of scanned pages sitting atop it all with a series of poorly written notes and attempted translations from the books the ancient words had been ripped from. It had spoken of 'Becoming Better' from what my mind could vaguely remember, though it was at a great cost. Be it something metaphysical or placebo, I simply had lost all care by this point.

Using a piece of chalk I try to nudge tone of the rivulets of wax towards the chalk line surrounding it, the blood red substance hardening almost as fast as I can manipulate it.

"Come the fuck..." I hack, coughing into the crook of my arm as to try to shield the flicking wicks from going out. "I need to get... get better... or..." I wheeze, trying once again to blend the wax and the chalk. "Get Reborn or.. or..."

Mastered PC - Part Eight

With the table set up I simply stand at attention behind it. Freed from the previous command I feel my body once more under my control, however, I remain still and silent out of fear of having Fiona make another demand of me.

Hours pass as students walk up and chat for a while, mostly men who who look over the curves on display between Fiona and myself before leaving once either of us ask for them to sign-up. It was obvious why I was hear, the Literature Club having been Fiona's baby since her first year even though it had barely managed to draw in enough members to be counted as a club at all.

With her new pupil she had at least found a second member, nearly halfway to the five required to hold the club together. However, as the sun sits high in the sky the sign up sheets still remain completely blank.

I hear as Fiona sighs next to me, my whole body shuddering as I hear the sound of her pen scratching out her thoughts in the notepad once again. Twisting in place I stare as Fiona's pen darts back and forth, the notepad getting filled with sentences before each is crossed out and another takes its place. Pursing her lips Fiona looks over me, only eventually piping up to mutter to herself.