Absorbing Vigilante

  I had been trying to drive my husband away from his racist tendencies for a long time.  They didn't start cropping up until he started his new job, which had a much more racially diverse workforce than his old job as a plumber.  He came home from work one day complaining, saying someone reported him for harassment.  Knowing I wasn't going to get any more specifics from him, I went to his workplace to ask about it.  They told me he had spouted some rather racially charged expletives at an African-American woman who, having just found out she was pregnant from her ex-boyfriend, definitely had enough stress in her life without my husband being an asshole around her.  I sought her out to apologize on his behalf, but she assumed I would be the same way and yelled at me to stay away from her.  Defeated, I headed back home to confront the man I was strongly considering asking for a divorce.  Under no circumstance did I want his ideologies rubbing off on any of our children.

So far, none of them had fallen into their father's racism.  Daxton and Miley, our two oldest, were perfectly fine at 13 and 12 respectively, being two of the sweetest tweens you'll ever meet.  The twins, Kayla and Shayla, were no different, building a vibrant and diverse friend circle around them at 8 years old.  Sage was closest me at only 4, so she wasn't a worry, but Kaiden looked more up to his father as an exceptionally impressionable 5-year-old.  It seemed to me that separating the kids from their father would actually be for the best.

Little did I know how soon that would be happening.  I had noticed a car following me at a distance, but I didn't think much of it, thinking they were just headed in the same direction as me.  I arrived home to find Daxton and Miley had been put in charge while their father went out, probably to a bar to complain to his friends.  I wrangled the other kids to tell them what I had been thinking about.  Before I could get started, I noticed the car from earlier parked in front of the house.  Concerned, I pointed it out to the kids, telling them to head for a different room.  I saw some odd movement inside the car before we could get moving, then...

I woke up in darkness with the voices of my children crying out everywhere around me.  Four of the six found themselves in darkness, with Sage and Kaiden finding themselves in the light of the outside world.  Kaiden was staring unwillingly at the seat of a car, while Sage felt like her body was wrapped around something outside of her control.  No one could move any part of themselves, aside from some pressure being put on the twins as they were pushed downward.  All in all, everything about each of us was completely out of our control, and as our surroundings began moving, I understood a bit more once a muffled, but familiar, voice spoke up.

"Not like you care, but the name's Asha," the woman from the office began.  "Looks like the asshole gets what he deserves, while taking his whole family down with him.  I don't know exactly where any of you ended up, but you're all parts of my body now, and that's all you'll ever be for the rest of my life.  Don't know if ALL of you deserve it, but HE certainly does.  I'll be erasing my memory of this later, so don't fool yourselves into thinking any of you are getting special treatment.  Hope you're all happy with yourselves."

The news sent us into a tizzy, especially as we all tried to figure out what we had been turned into.  The woman, Asha, didn't seem to realize that she didn't get my husband, and she was going to forget what she did later?  Did she have any idea how big of a family she had just doomed to existence as her body parts?

Sage figured out her situation first, her body being used to turn the steering wheel as our host drove home.  She was Asha's right hand, her limbs-turned-fingers wrapped around the rubber wheel, feeling every little twitch of the muscles her body contained.  Meanwhile, the twins realized their surroundings smelled like feet, Daxton and Miley felt their bodies jiggle slightly with the car's movement, and Kaiden dangled from the woman's head in countless strands as I realized what the fishy smell around me meant.

Asha made good on her promise once she got home, quickly casting a spell that removed our transformations from her memory, leaving me and my family to our new fates.  Her bath that night solidified our ideas as to what each of us had turned into, and we all tried to decide what my husband would have been if he had been home.  We quickly decided that he would've ended up as our host's butt, given the way she had referred to him earlier.  Asha tucked into bed, leaving us to our thoughts as we discovered that body parts can't sleep.  We decided that we would try our best to accept our new lives as simple parts of this pregnant African-American woman's body, and just be glad that she was single for the time being.  Kaiden found part of himself sandwiched between Asha's head and pillow, Daxton and Miley's fleshy forms squished into each other, and the rest of us laid mostly motionless under the blanket as the night went on.

-------------------------

Asha's nearly to term now, almost nine months pregnant with fraternal twins.  Her excitement to meet her little boy and girl is obvious to everyone around her, as well as those attached to her without her remembering.  She was confused when my former husband showed up to work, but he was fired as soon as he spouted more racist shit her way, removing him from our host's life once and for all.

It's been eight months since my family and I were transformed into parts of Asha's body.  We've all gotten used to our new stations in life, although I'm uniquely not looking forward to the future.  We try not to have hard feelings toward our host, seeing as she believed she was punishing people who deserved it, but that's kind of hard when she controls every aspect of our existences.

Sage has a rather active life as Asha's right hand.  She was only four when we were transformed, so her mind has adapted to her new body and life pretty well.  Her fingers being manipulated to hold things, write, type, occasionally performing rude gestures to ruder people... She enjoys pretty much all of it, realizing that she could be something that moves less, or stays in the darkness more often.  Winter wasn't easy on Sage as she kept being covered in gloves and mittens, depriving her of vision for extended periods of time.  Her favorite thing is having her nails painted, like the simple white polish that's been recently applied.  She says it makes her feel pretty, like having her hair done back when she was a little girl instead of a grown woman's hand.

Kaiden hangs contentedly from Asha's head, part of him having been pulled back into a ponytail while the rest flows loosely across her shoulders and back.  As her hair, he gets a lot of movement as well, completely at the whim of the wind and our host's head movements.  He likes the attention he gets while being styled, even if being twisted into cornrows hurts for a while.  Being washed isn't exactly his favorite activity, as having the shampoo, conditioner and other hair products lathered onto his strands isn't exactly pleasant for him.  He doesn't like being plastered to her back during showers either, but he still enjoys the fresh, clean feeling after being thoroughly washed, despite the unpleasant process it takes to get to that point.

I think down to Kayla and Shayla's sock-clad forms, supporting Asha's increasing weight from below.  They have to deal with being the pregnant woman's feet, Kayla on the left and Shayla on the right.  Foot sweat, aching and repeated impacts on the floor are what the former 8-year-olds' lives consist of now, and they've been a bit slower to adapt than their younger siblings.  Not like I blame them; as feet, they're routinely left in darkness, confined to socks and shoes on a regular basis.  They've learned to hate heeled shoes, as their bodies are left aching for hours afterward until our host gets around to massaging them, which they reluctantly admit to enjoying.  They don't mind it as much when Asha is at home, as that means they're usually left bare to be able to see.  Nail painting is their favorite activity, rather similar to Sage so far above them, and it's something the three sisters have bonded over.  Kind of nice to hear, honestly.

Daxton and Miley have been the slowest of the kids to adapt to their new bodies, being the oldest of the six.  Finding themselves paired together and attached to the pregnant woman's chest hasn't been easy on their psyche, although Miley has taken it better than her brother.  They get even less light than the twins do, almost always being constricted by whatever bra Asha happens to be wearing that day, and further covered by shirts or dresses.  The constant jiggling and wobbling gets on their nerves as well, and it's just been getting worse as they slowly expand with our host's progressing pregnancy.  They can feel themselves produce breast milk, having absolutely no control compared to Asha's hormones getting their bodies ready for breastfeeding.  Miley is excited to meet the babies, and is even fine with the idea of involuntarily providing nourishment for their growth.  Daxton is less excited, to say the least.

I'm not exactly excited to meet the babies either.  After all, as Asha's vagina, I'm the thing they'll be forced through as they're born, stretched painfully beyond my limits throughout the process.  I should have some idea what it will be like - I've had six kids of my own, after all - but from a vagina's perspective?  It's bad enough having urine jettisoned through me on the toilet several times a day, and even more as time goes on.  Having two human beings pushed through my opening doesn't exactly sound like fun to me.  Not to mention having panties in my face all day and night, rarely being given fresh air for any length of time that isn't immediately followed by being pissed through or being submerged in bath water.  We've definitely decided that I have it worst out of any of us.

Any day now, we will be randomly placed body parts on a new mother instead of a pregnant woman.  I'll be used to give birth, Daxton and Miley will be routinely let out of a maternity bra to breastfeed, Sage will be used to gently hold the babies, and Kaiden, Kayla and Shayla will be along for the ride as well.  I've definitely warned everyone about the screaming and sweating Asha will be doing while giving birth, with Kaiden being ironically the most concerned about his strands being soaked in sweat.  The twins are just glad that she won't be standing on them while it's happening, leaving them to worry the most about my well-being.

I just wish my former husband was here.  Just imagining his fatty, round body being squashed under Asha and involuntarily shit out of while the babies are pushed out of me will definitely help me get through the experience.  After all, he would've deserved it.  And besides, it's HIS fault we're in this situation to begin with.  He always was an asshole; why couldn't he have been there to be turned into one?

TF Virus 2

  Continued from Part 1

When I woke up the morning after my last day as Lily, I fully expected to be motionless.  Dad had turned into clothing, and most of the other victims turned into objects as well.  As such, I was rather surprised when I found myself stretching my arms, feeling the most refreshed and energetic than I had in years.  Even more surprised to find my arms a lot shorter than they were before, and a much darker skin tone than I had before.  I hopped down from my suddenly larger bed, headed straight for my full-body mirror near my closet.  Everything about my once familiar bedroom seemed larger and more intimidating, and as I came to a stop in front of the mirror, the reason for that became all too obvious.

Gone was the platinum blonde, blue-eyed, fair-skinned teenager that I had grown into over the last seventeen years.  In her place was a tiny African-American girl with a serious case of bedhead, clad in my old nightgown that could comfortably fit two or more of her.  I walked up to the mirror, raising my hand to meet the reflection's.  I saw the slightly lighter color of the palm of my hand just before it touched the glass.  The girl's deep brown eyes widened in surprise, shocked that this unfamiliar little girl could possibly be my own reflection.  I turned my head back and forth, feeling the new texture of my hair as it brushed past my cheeks and neck.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door.  I was still studying my new self as my mother called in gently.  "Lily, honey, I'm coming in," she said as she slowly creaked the door open.  Mom must have expected the worst to have happened to me, so I can only imagine her shock to see a little dark-skinned girl looking in the mirror as if she had never seen her own reflection.  The tension was rather suddenly broken with my mother's shrieking, suddenly crying out.  "OHMIGOD LILY YOU'RE SO CUTE!!!"

I was further broken out of my reverie as my mother's arms wrapped around my waist, lifting me into an enormous bear hug.  The now much larger woman held me tightly, even as I cried out for to stop in my new, unfamiliar voice.  I even noticed a hint of an accent as I tried to wiggle out of Mom's hug, my new energy rising to the surface as we started laughing.  Eventually I gave up, simply wrapping my shorter arms around her to return her affection.  I may have looked completely different, but I was still human, and we were both grateful for that.

There was something nagging on my mind though.  Every time Mom called me Lily, it was like there was a disconnect between me and my name.  There was something else in my mind, but why would I identify with a bird species?  I suddenly realized that some people can be named after birds, and this was one of the more popular options.  "Oh, Lily, I'm so glad you're okay!" Mom cried, tears starting to form.  "We need to reintroduce you to Evelyn and William!"

"Okay, Mommy!" I replied cutely, the word 'mommy' slipping out naturally even though I hadn't called her that since I was nine.  "Just one thing, though..."

"What is it, Lil?" she asked, suddenly sounding concerned, her movements quickly ceasing entirely.  I couldn't blame her, after what happened to Dad compared to me.

"I don't think my name is Lily anymore," I said slowly, my mind struggling to put my thoughts together into the sentence.  Just how much did the virus change my mind?  "I think I'm Wren now."

There was a pause as Mom took in what I had just revealed to her.  I really just wanted her to put me down already; my old nightgown was dangerously close to slipping off my shoulders entirely, already barely hanging on by the left strap.  I found myself hoping we still had more hand-me-downs from Evelyn than just the pink shorts that used to be Dad.  Maybe William had something that would fit?  Sure, I'd be dressing as a boy, but at least I wouldn't be completely naked until we could buy new clothes for me.

Finally, the painful silence broke.  "Well then, Wren," Mom started, saying the new name slowly as if trying to get used to the feeling of the name in her mouth, "I guess we'd better get you dressed in something smaller than that nightgown.  Wouldn't want it to fall off in front of your brother and sister, would we?"  We giggled in unison at the thought, then she finally set me down on the floor.  My eye level was only around her belly button, if not a bit lower, as she grabbed one of my blankets, wrapping it around my tiny frame just as the strap of my nightgown gave up on preserving my modesty.

Mom walked me out of the room in the makeshift bathrobe, occasionally glancing down at me in amusement as I gazed in awe at the once-familiar house that now seemed like a mansion to me.  We walked straight past Evelyn's room and toward William's, meaning I was going to have to deal with wearing my 4-year-old brother's clothes for a bit.  "Li - Wren, wait out here for a bit, okay sweetie?" Mom asked with a quiet practiced gentleness that an adult generally uses for a small child.  I should have been offended, but it instead felt soothing to my obviously partially regressed mind.

I nodded as Mom entered my little brother's bedroom to borrow a set of clothes for me.  At least, I hoped William was still my little brother at four years old; I still didn't know how old I was.  I didn't have a lisp of any kind when I talked, and William still had trouble pronouncing R's.  Waiting outside the door as Mom put together a temporary outfit, I found myself bouncing impatiently.  I had so much energy, and it was being wasted by just standing and waiting!  But I didn't want to risk the blanket-robe falling off, so I tried my hardest not to move around too much.

A few mind-numbing minutes of waiting later, Mom came back out of William's room with a bundle of clothing.  I saw a green t-shirt, a pair of jean shorts and a belt as I was ushered into the bathroom to change.  "Why aren't we going back to my room?" I asked, confused.

"We need to do something about your hair," Mom replied, "and that might take a while.  I don't really know how to work with hair like yours..."  That made sense.  We were a thoroughly Caucasian family, mostly Norwegian in ancestry, and Mom suddenly had a young African-American daughter with hair more suited to cornrows than curls.

"Mommy, let's just straighten my hair the best we can," I said, wanting to get the inevitable reintroduction over with as soon as possible.  "We can have fun with it some other time, 'kay?"  I craned my neck to look Mom in the eyes.  Just the day before, I had been a couple inches taller than her, and now she was a giant compared to me.  Still, she was a deeply comforting presence to my more childish brain.

"Sounds good, Wrenni," Mom sighed, sounding relieved as she used a new pet name for me.  With that, we entered the bathroom to put together my look for the day.

Everything felt so rough on me.  The t-shirt was loose, and yet a bit too short to cover my belly button, and the fabric was a bit scratchy for my newly sensitive skin.  The shorts had to be held up by the belt, and they reached almost to my knees instead of slightly below like they would on William.  That meant I was a bit older then my still-little brother, but I definitely had a slim gymnast's build, causing everything to still hang loosely around my body.  We wouldn't know exactly how old I was until I was tested at the hospital, which thankfully knew what our family was going through.

My new hair was interesting to deal with, as Mom struggled to force my frizzy locks to bend to her will.  We settled on a ponytail, causing my hair to poof out past the scrunchie holding my uncooperative mane at bay.  Looking in the mirror, it still looked really cute, so we decided that it would be fine for the day.  I slipped my feet into an ill-fitting pair of William's sandals, and we ventured into the living room.

I waited on the couch as Mom woke up Evelyn and William, trying my best to stay as still as I could with the near-infinite energy coursing through my body.  A few minutes of me practically vibrating later, and Mom entered with my siblings in tow.  My still-little brother and now-big sister gawked at me like I was an animal at a zoo.  They were probably expecting to be introduced to me being part of someone's wardrobe, but as I saw Evelyn's mouth slowly widen into an elated grin, I knew I was going to have an amazing second childhood.

Mom walked over to me, resting her hand on my shoulder.  "Evelyn and William," she began, "say hello to your sister, Wren."

The rest of the day consisted of my siblings fighting for my attention, Evelyn wanting to play with my hair and William just happy there was someone else in the house who could keep up with his energy (if anything, I had even more energy than he did).  A call to the lab ended with over ten thousand dollars being wired to us so we could build up a new wardrobe and remodel my bedroom, plus extra 'just because'.  Another call was made to the hospital to set a check-up appointment, and an extra call went out to a hair salon under the cover story of me being recently adopted.

The next day was a massive shopping trip, finally freeing me of my little brother's itchy, unfitting clothes.  The visit to the hair salon would be followed by many more as they taught me and Mom how to properly care for and style my hair, and I walked out of the mall that day with a brand-new wardrobe and my bead-laden cornrows clacking away behind me.

We found out later that week that I was a little over five years old, and I would be signed up for kindergarten that fall.  The idea that I would have to start my schooling from scratch didn't bother me as much as I thought it would, since it meant I could build a new circle of friends who could keep up with me better than my old teen friends could.  Speaking of which, my old friends were filled in on what had happened, and most of them happily offered to babysit me so they could still be part of my life.

Evelyn seemed even happier with my new life than I was.  She tried her best to spoil her new little sister rotten, and I happily accepted the attention without letting it affect me too much.  I played with William a lot too, since he had never been introduced to the idea of 'cooties'.  Tag, hide-and-seek, and other active games filled my days that summer, and I greatly enjoyed the small gymnastics setup that Mom invested in for me to flip and vault through.  We knew I was going to be a handful as I grew up again, but it was clear that Mom wouldn't have it any other way.  She was going to make sure my second childhood was as amazing as possible.

About a year later, and I was preparing for my entrance into first grade.  My ears had been pierced on my new May 2nd birthday, I was excelling in my swimming and gymnastics lessons, and I was overall about the happiest six-year-old girl in the world.  My family was amazing - I was even big enough where I could fit into Dad, who was happy to finally be let outside his drawer - and it didn't seem like anything could interrupt our happiness.

Then Evelyn got sick.  We had almost forgotten about the TF Virus ravaging our family until my big sister started forming rashes, signaling her own transformation.  It was hard to watch the girl I had grown to depend on become so helpless, soon becoming confined to her bed.  One night, her shaky arms embraced me in what would be our last hug as sisters, before she fell asleep to undergo her own change.

We couldn't have known what Evelyn would end up as.  She could have been human, animal, body part, object... We had heard from one of the other affected families that their 3-year-old daughter had woken up as a water stain on her bed, slowly evaporating over time to join the water cycle.  My family and I slept restlessly that night, wondering what the morning would bring...