i'm Back!

 

In hindsight, I probably deserve what I got.  I'm the one who slammed fifteen beers before slamming my fists into every person and surface I could find.  Waking up the next morning in a jail cell, I paid the fine I had accrued.  I was notoriously undefeated at poker, so money wasn't exactly a problem for me.  It was a week later that things went awry.

I wasn’t supposed to go back to that bar in the first place, but I figured that I’d just pay off the bartender and be done with it.  The reaction to me coming through the door with a mighty “I’M BACK, BITCHES!” was met with eye rolls and groaning.  Behind the counter, the bartender was crossing her arms, oddly silent.

Unperturbed, I took my usual place at the counter, suddenly finding the barkeep looking me in the eye.  “You’re Back, huh?” she said, unamused at my antics.  “Well, in that case, nice to meet you.  I’m Witch.”

In the moment, I thought she was just trying to scare me off.  When I started feeling woozy, eventually blacking out, I realized far too late that she was being serious.  She was a witch.  And my own words had just sealed my fate.

Waking up, I knew something was off.  First of all, everything was dark.  Not quite what I would call pitch-black, but dark enough where I couldn’t make out any details of my surroundings.  Something soft was brushing against my entire body, like a layer of silky cloth.  I had no clue what that could be, since last I knew, I had somehow passed out in the bar before having a single drop to drink.  There was a constant movement, though extremely slow and methodical.  Ever so slightly side-to-side, although I wasn’t entirely sure which way was up.  And it felt like the movement was coming from… me?  Something behind me?  Or maybe more like something behind me that I was somehow attached to…

Speaking of which, nothing about my body felt right.  It was almost like I had somehow been completely flattened.  Or… well, not completely.  There were definitely contours to follow and define my shape, although that shape definitely didn’t feel particularly human.  It was like there was a slight valley running down the middle, curving in before jutting out.  Two flat surfaces plateaued near the top of my form.

Finally, my… ears?... picked up on something entirely unexpected.  Slow, soft breathing, high-enough pitched to be obviously feminine, and perfectly in sync with the odd side-to-side movement I was experiencing.  It sounded like it was coming from behind me.  Was I somehow actually in bed with someone?  Was the silken substance a sheet, or a nightgown perhaps?  Above all else, why couldn’t I force myself to move?  It was like I was paralyzed; any movement I experienced was completely outside of my control.

Suddenly, my efforts to figure out what the hell had happened to me was interrupted by the irritating sound of a ringing alarm.  A soft groan was uttered somewhere above me, and my world was launched into a whirlwind of motion.  Something underneath me tensed and shifted, and everything tumbled to the side.  Or was I now upright?  God, all of this was so confusing.  It felt like something fell against me from the other side of the silken substance.  One side of me stretched backward, pulled by an unseen force, and the sound of the alarm was cut off.

“Ugh... fuckin’ alarm... Not ready for this shit…”

The obviously female voice above and behind me certainly took me by surprise.  It had a slight accent to it, an accent I had definitely heard before, but couldn’t quite place.  My entire world suddenly shifted upward, the silk covering me never quite staying still.  More uncomfortable unwilling movement forced my entire body to bend to something else’s will.  Finally, the upper corners of my form stretched upward, then scrunched in a seemingly inhuman way.  I felt the silk slide across my body, and I was finally greeted with sight.

I was in someone’s bedroom, obviously female, although cleanliness didn’t seem to be a high priority.  Various pieces of sportswear were scattered around the room.  Leggings thrown into a corner, a sports bra hanging from the handle of a small treadmill, other pieces of clothing littered the floor, all tossed with no care to where they landed.  My vision swung around, letting me see a large bed that someone had clearly just gotten out of.  On the floor next to the bed was a light blue silk pajama top crumpled without a care.  Was that what was covering me?

It was weird that I had that thought at all, but something else had become clear to me.  I was smaller than I was before, and by quite a bit.  Most things in the room dwarfed me.  I moved backward, and my vision turned again, bringing me face to face with a body length mirror.  What I saw confused me more than anything else thus far.

I couldn’t see myself anywhere.  Instead, there was the reflection of a woman facing away from the mirror, clad only in a pair of panties.  She was completely topless, although it was only her back in the reflection.  Her skin was a light brown color, looking well-suited for time in the sun.  The woman clearly worked out, the muscles in her back being incredibly well-defined.  I saw her reach over her shoulder to scratch an itch high on her shoulder blade.  At the same time, my upper left side stretched weirdly before I saw a light-brown-skinned feminine hand enter my vision, and I felt the fingernail scratch uncomfortably against my surface.  As the itch was taken care of, the impossible truth of my situation finally dawned on me.

I wasn’t human anymore.  In fact, I was only a part of someone else.  The concave line running down my middle was the outline of this woman’s spine.  The plateaus on top were her shoulder blades.  Every move she made had some sort of effect on me, whether big or small, all completely outside of my control.  I had somehow been transformed into this woman’s back.

The sound of a drawer scraping open shook me out of my shocked state.  I couldn’t see what the woman - my owner?  Host? - was doing, until she finally pulled out a clean sports bra from her underwear drawer.  Not immediately realizing what that meant, I was along for the ride as she lifted her arms above her head, stretching me upwards along with her.  A lot more unusual movement later, and she slid the sports bra over her chest.  Rather suddenly, there was a network of cloth straps partially blocking my vision, the black fabric tracing over me.  In the mirror, I could see the back of the sports bra criss-crossing the woman’s upper back, further confirming my transformation.  How had this happened?

Before I could ponder that question, the woman walked to a different part of her room, taking me along with her from behind.  No longer having the mirror for reference, I had no clue what she was doing.  All I could do was have my muscles involuntarily pulled this way and that as my owner (I guess…) did something beyond my perception.  Quite unexpectedly, my vision was further obscured by a layer of fabric, a bit rougher than the silk nightshirt had been.  I wasn’t left in complete darkness - there was still a fair amount of light filtering through the sky-blue fabric.

After this, my knowledge of what was happening became maddeningly vague.  There was a lot of movement, but without being able to see, I had no clue what my owner was doing.  I didn’t even know her name yet, and yet I was along for the ride with everything she did.  A change in air quality, followed by the unwanted motion speeding up, and I still had no idea where I was.  Where we were.  In the meantime, I let my mind wander.

First of all, how and why did this happen to me?  I searched through my memories as best as I could, considering the circumstances, when one little exchange ran through my mind.

You’re Back, huh?  Well, in that case, nice to meet you.  I’m Witch.

Oh fuck, she was serious.  I didn’t think magic was even a possibility, and yet here I was, staring out of some random woman’s back.  That bartender was actually a witch, and in going back to the bar I was banned from, I made my last mistake.  She had turned my words against me, and now I existed as nothing but a barely-cared-about detail of someone else’s body.

By now, I had deduced that my host and I were outside.  The little air around me was warm, humid, almost salty.  It had been the middle of winter when I had made that final mistake, so wherever I was, it was either naturally warm year-round or somewhere in the southern hemisphere.  The sound of my owner’s footsteps sped up, and I could feel what must have been her hair bouncing against me, probably tied into a ponytail or braid.  The fabric of the sports bra never quite kept still, the light shirt fluttered against my surface, and the sensation of my entire self being manipulated by another meant that I didn’t really get much time to think.  Soon, another sensation came to the forefront.

Beads of moisture had started collecting on my surface.  Salty liquid that had forced itself through my pores in response to the heated air around me, exacerbated by the exercise my host was clearly participating in.  In short, she was starting to sweat, and I could feel, smell, and even taste every bit of it.  As much as I had been hoping that being part of a woman would be sensual in some way, obviously that wasn’t going to be the case.  This person was a fitness fiend in a tropical setting, and it was my curse to unwillingly suffer through it.  Above all else, something else sailed through the air around me:  someone else’s words.

“Aloha kakahiaka, Emalia!  Up pretty early today, aren’t ya?”

Even with the buzz of my host’s talking emanating from beneath me, I paid no attention to what she was saying.  Number one:  I had a name.  My host was a woman named Emalia, and she had just met up with a friend for a morning jog.  Two:  the friend’s words told me a lot.  I didn’t know what the second word was, but I certainly knew the first.  Not only had I been transformed into a random woman’s back, but I had been transported to Hawai’i.  That’s why the air was so warm, tinged with the saltiness of the ocean.  Why my host - Emalia - had the darker skin of a native islander.

I’ve long since lost track of how long I’ve been here.  To this day, I’ve never seen Emalia’s face.  It was a glorious day when, due to a backless dress, I finally saw other people at a party.  It made me feel like I was actually a part of it, even if the reality was that I was staring out of someone’s back.  I occasionally get glimpses of the outside world depending on what my host happens to choose to wear, and I can’t help but consider myself lucky.

Sure, I’m literally someone else’s back.  Sure, I’ll never have any level of autonomy outside of having my own opinions on what Emalia chooses to wear.  And yes, I have no choice but to silently observe someone else going through their own life, with absolutely no input from her unknown passenger.  But at least it’s a surprisingly relaxing existence.  I don’t have to worry about a job.  No taxes.  No consequences of my future actions, seeing as there will never be future actions from me.  I’ll never go hungry, never get thirsty, never have my heart broken by another person…

Naturally, there are some annoyances to my new existence.  I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the sweating.  Not being able to see about 75% of the time isn’t what I would call an upside, either.  And while showers are largely fine, baths are still terrifying.  Imagine being dunked into hot water with no ability to breathe, and you should get the idea.  But any and all cons are thoroughly outweighed by one massive pro.

I’m in fuckin’ Hawai’i!  Sure, I don’t get to see much, but it’s not like I haven’t seen anything.  It’s like I’m living my own tropical paradise - with a woman, I might add - and I don’t have to do a thing.  Tropical jungles, beaches, the ocean… It's like a dream come true!  To be honest, this doesn’t really feel like a punishment the way it was probably meant to be.  Almost like a reward, if anything.  Either that, or my mind’s acclimating to my new form.

Right now, it’s about time for my favorite kind of day.  It’s not often that Emalia starts making breakfast while only wearing a sports bra, which means it’s a warmer than usual day.  That means I’ll be left mostly uncovered for the day, so I’ll get to see where we are.  Maybe she’ll throw on a swimsuit later to take a dip in the ocean?  While the initial shock of being submerged isn’t something I’ll ever get used to, the feeling of the seawater against my skin is always exhilarating.  Not to mention having the day’s sweat washed off.