Twisted Wishes: A New Start

  45-year-old Morgan was on a routine trip to the local Wal-Mart with her husband and kids.  They were only really there for groceries, but Alma, her 6-year-old daughter, had demanded that they check out the toy area before they left.  The girl had developed a bit of a spoiled attitude, but Morgan really didn't want to cause a scene in the middle of the store.  Her teen son Ray had wandered off to the nearby video game area while Alma browsed for a new Barbie doll.

While her husband Liam handled their hyperactive daughter, Morgan couldn't help but notice an out of place glimmer in the middle of a bunch of stuffed animals. Pushing them out of the way, the tired mother discovered a fancy red-and-black lamp that looked straight out of the movie Aladdin.  Realizing that this metal object definitely wasn't a toy, she grabbed it, planning to turn it in to customer service.  Turning it over in her hands, she noticed that it didn't have a price tag, and absentmindedly rubbed the area where the sticker should've been.

Suddenly, the entire store seemed to freeze around her as an actual genie appeared before her eyes.  The large, muscular gray man shrouded in smoke seemed to study the middle-aged woman in front of him, then addressed her in a booming, thunderous bass.  "Greetings, mistress.  You have summoned me from my lamp, and I shall grant you one wish."

Morgan regarded the genie with skepticism, wondering why she was only getting one wish instead of three.  Also the fact that there was a freaking genie floating in the air in front of her.  Deciding that she was, in fact, in the middle of a crazy dream, she quickly decided what her wish would be.  "Well, I've only ever been tired since I had my first kid, and I've always wished I could just... start over, you know?  Have a fresh new start, live a different life, without my husband and kids dragging me down."

The genie considered the woman's wish for a second.  It was one of the most selfish wishes he had heard in a long time, but searching her memories, he understood why.  Her husband was a lazy man who enabled the little girl's bratty behavior, and the teenager had started acting out as well.  He came up with a way to grant the wish while also enacting a bit of twisted justice, and finally replied to the woman.  "Your wish is my command, mistress."  With a snap of his fingers, the woman and her family vanished, their previous lives erased from reality.

A few aisles away, a young woman's unspoken wish was granted as well.  In this new reality, 21-year-old Maya now remembered a positive pregnancy test taken 2 weeks ago, learning that she was about a month along.  She and her fiancée had been trying for a child since they got engaged, and they were finally going to start a family.

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Morgan and her family woke up in darkness.  As the others began shouting and screaming, all somehow in her mind, the fatigued mother began gathering as much information about her surroundings as she could.  Wherever they were, it was wet everywhere, as if she was floating in some kind of warm liquid.  It didn't quite feel like water, perhaps a little bit thicker and slimier.  She felt like something was attached to her, a sentiment that the others shared.

Suddenly, a muffled-yet-booming voice rang out from somewhere above them.  "I just can't wait to meet our new baby!" the feminine voice said, and suddenly Morgan realized what had happened.  Her wish had been granted, and her family had been dragged along for the experience.

'Everyone, be quiet for a moment!' Morgan cried out mentally, and her husband and children thankfully complied.  'I know what's going on.  I made a wish for a new beginning, and now we're zygotes inside a pregnant woman.  We're going to be reborn as new people.'

A pause commenced, followed by complaints from her new womb-mates.  Morgan's family didn't seem too pleased by the revelation, but she was perfectly fine with it.  Although, she was wondering why her family had been roped into it as well.  She had specifically wanted a new life WITHOUT the others, so why were they here?  Regardless, she settled into her new existence, waiting to develop into a form more recognizable as human.  She guessed their new mother was about a month along in her pregnancy, and she couldn't wait for the new quadruplets to be born.

As days turned into weeks, the transformed family started realizing that Morgan's revelation wasn't entirely accurate.  As the former mother excitedly detailed every development on her new body, the others discovered they weren't actually going through the same changes.  Liam felt like his body wasn't solid, and something was growing inside him while he was confined in a fleshy sack.  Ray felt a slimy liquid contained within him, and he himself was slowly expanding, pushing other things around him slightly out of the way.  Finally, Alma felt like she was attached to two different things, wrapped around something else.  She also felt like something was flowing through her, her body feeling more like a flexible tube than anything else.

Morgan realized exactly what everyone else had turned into, but she decided not to tell them, especially not wanting to send Alma the umbilical cord into a panic.  Liam had turned into the amniotic fluid she was floating in, and Ray was the very uterus they were confined to.  She had quickly figured out what each of their futures had in store for them, and she didn't want to deal with the fallout of revealing that information.  She simply stayed quiet as her former family chattered around her.

It was hard for the transformed family to tell the passing of time, with only the occasional utterances of the woman they were inside of to help.  It was after the woman's four month checkup that an interesting development came about.  Morgan had felt the unfamiliar appendage beginning to grow between her developing legs, but the doctor's muffled voice confirmed her suspicion.  "You're going to have a boy!" he said, which also cemented in the others' minds the fact that they weren't in the same boat as the former mother.  The woman was only going to have one baby, not four.

Within the woman's uterus, Morgan felt her former daughter's long, winding body wrap around her left leg.  Alma was the tube that fed the borrowed nutrients from the future mother to the male fetus that was once a mother itself, and she was beginning to figure out what she was.  The girl didn't know the word for it, but she had seen pictures in one of her mother's books before.  The fact that she couldn't feel arms or legs finally made sense to her, not that it was any comfort to her.

Ray hadn't quite figured out his form yet, but he knew he was one of the woman's organs.  He felt the other organs around him be pushed out of the way by his ever-expanding body, yet he was just a bit too dense to put the pieces together.  The transformed teen was certainly annoyed at the movement of the liquid inside him.

Speaking of which, Liam knew exactly what he was.  The movement of the humanoid shape inside him meant he was nothing but a bunch of amniotic fluid, and the knowledge of what would eventually happen to him was terrifying.  He was a liquid now, and once the barrier keeping him contained was broken...  He would've shuddered at the thought if he had retained the ability.

Morgan continued developing, the nutrients provided by her daughter-turned-umbilical cord contributing to her growth.  The uterus that was once her son began stretching even more in response to her growing body approaching it's size, and she heard Ray's complaints every time she kicked with her legs.  She could hear her future mother's happiness every time she felt another kick, so she made sure to do it fairly often, much to Ray's chagrin.  Alma felt herself wrapping around different parts of the baby's body, having figured out that the fetus was her mother.

The most interesting development for Liam, Ray and Alma was the introduction of light.  It was dim, being filtered through several layers of skin and other tissues, but it was a nice change from the constant darkness they had known for the last few months.  They could now vaguely see Morgan's developing body, still upset that she seemed so happy about the situation.

A total of eight months went by.  Ray was stretched pretty much to his limit, simply wishing for relief.  He had figured out he was the woman's uterus, and that he held his entire former family within him.  His father was the annoying slimy liquid, his little sister the weird tube attached to him, and his mother the soon-to-be-born baby boy stretching him thin.  He wasn't exactly happy about the revelation, simply looking forward to the birth so he could shrink to a normal size.

Liam's liquid body had increased in pressure, the growing fetus displacing him more and more as time went on.  He counted himself lucky that none of him had leaked out, but he knew his luck would soon run out.  Above all, he just wished his wife-turned-infant would stop wiggling around, constantly mixing his form around.  His form was confusing to a once-solid human, but he'd honestly take it over what he knew was coming up.

Alma kept supplying her former mother with nutrients from their host, having absolutely no control over the process.  She was annoyed by the sensation of being wrapped around the baby's limbs and torso, but knew she couldn't really do anything about it.  The former girl remained unaware of what her own future would entail, since she didn't know what would happen to a body part like her once the baby she was attached to was born.

All the while, Morgan had instinctively turned her infantile body upside-down, in preparation for her rebirth.  The fact that she would be born as a boy hadn't quite sunk in yet, but she was looking forward to her new life regardless.  She would finally be free from her old family, just like she had wished so many months ago.  Who cared if they hated her by this point?  She was the human now, not them.  The former woman tuned the others out of her mind, eager to meet her new mother.

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

Maya was waddling toward the kitchen when it happened.  There was a sudden lurching in her swollen abdomen, and she heard a splash underneath her.  She knew her water had broken, and called out for her husband to rush her to the hospital.  The woman who was about to officially become a mother decided that she would ask her older sister to stop by her house to mop up the mess, and braced herself for the glorious hardship to come.

It was a long night of labor, but it was absolutely worth it as she gazed upon her son's face for the first time.  The umbilical cord was cut, the remaining end forming the little boy's belly button.  Any remaining amniotic fluid was gently washed off the fragile infant's skin, and the newly-named Emmett drifted off to sleep as he was breastfed for the first time.

Morgan felt the fluid around her suddenly drain away, her former husband's unimportant shrieks not bothering her in the slightest.  As she began sliding out of the fleshy sack her son had turned into, and into a tight slimy tube, she knew her new life was about to officially begin.  She heard the screaming of the woman she would soon call her mother, in pain from her own body painfully exiting the larger human's body through the tight canal.

Morgan relished in the feeling of the top of her head poking through, the cool air signaling her entry into the world.  The tube that was once her daughter was dragged along with her, and what remained of her former husband helped lubricate the tunnel as she continued being pushed through.

She soon left her former son completely behind, and her feet were finally pulled out of her new mother's vagina.  The doctor's utterance of "It's a boy!  What's his name?" reminded her that she should leave her feminine pronouns behind, in preparation for a new life growing up as a boy.

"His name is Emmett," his new mother replied with relief, and the adult mind inside the tiny newborn left his old identity behind for good.  He could vaguely feel his umbilical cord being tied and cut, a small shriek being one of the last reminders of his old life for the time being.

Emmett felt the soft cloth wiping off the remnants of his former husband.  He was passed into the warm, comforting arms of his mother, and felt the large nipple brush against his lips.  The newborn opened his mouth, and instinct took over as he suckled the warm milk from his mother's breast.  He was vaguely aware of the soft whimpering coming from his abdomen, but he chose to completely ignore the former girl, unable to speak through his mind anymore anyway.  With that, the boy drifted off to sleep in his new mother's arms.

Liam felt a barrier give way, then screamed in panic as a large portion of his liquid body drained from the area, splashing on the hardwood floor below.  His vision was now split into two areas, the puddle on the floor and the portion that still remained inside.  Focusing more on the portion outside, he looked up at the woman that had unknowingly played host to his family for the past eight months.  She was wearing a loose dress with nothing underneath, making him realize he was lucky to not have part of him stuck as a stain on a pair of panties.  The woman looked down at him with a mixture of disgust and excitement, then called for her husband.

She finally stepped away from the man-turned-puddle, and Liam got an even better look.  The bulging stomach that contained the rest of him - as well as his family - was attached to an otherwise fit-looking young lady, her honey-blonde hair hanging perfectly straight from her head.  That was all he could gather as the woman and her husband rushed out of the house, leaving his pathetic puddle body sitting on the floor.

After a long wait of absolutely nothing happening in the house, Liam decided to focus on the part of himself still inside the woman.  He was mostly a thin layer of amniotic fluid coating the infant boy that used to be his wife, and she was being squeezed through the woman's vaginal canal.  Annoyed that his current purpose was only to make the baby's passage a bit smoother, he soon felt the cold air on the baby's head.

Eventually, the baby had fully exited the new mother, and Liam was left freezing in the cool air.  He could feel every little movement the newly-named Emmett made, but he hadn't thought of what would come next.  He saw the soft cloth approaching, and he realized that it would soon be his temporary home.  The cloth wiped his remaining fluid layer off of the infant, and he felt himself being quickly absorbed into it.  He didn't really want to deal with being washed out of it, so he decided to leave his old family behind and focus on his puddle portion.

He quickly discovered that every part of him was going to be dealt with in different, equally horrifying ways.  With his vision focused entirely on the puddle of slowly drying amniotic fluid, he watched in horror as an unfamiliar woman began pushing a wet mop along the floor.  As the first threads of the mop flicked against his edge, the former man felt a small portion of his body be absorbed into it.  With three more swipes, Liam's puddle body was absorbed entirely into the mop, mixed in with the water and mild soap.  Parts of him were contained within, left in darkness for the time being.

Liam watched as the mop was carried outside, the woman holding it headed for small shed on the property.  It looked like a larger than average yard, and it took a couple minutes of violent shaking and swinging within the mop's threads to reach her destination.  'At least Morgan will have a joyful, pampered second childhood,' he thought to himself bitterly as the head of the mop he was absorbed into was placed into a plastic vice.  He heard water running somewhere above him, and he felt as his liquid body was slowly washed out of the mop.

With a sudden extreme pressure, the plastic vice squeezed hard on the mophead, twisting lightly as the former man was wrung out.  His diluted body hit the bottom of the floor sink with a splatter, then began being pulled toward a drain in the middle.  Liam wanted to get a good last look at the woman, but his vision was too distorted by the water he was mixed into.

His vision distorted even more, pulled into a swirl as his liquid body was washed down the drain.  As he traveled through the pipe system to the sewer that would be his new home, Liam's only thoughts were of his children, trapped as they were in their own new forms.

Ray felt the amniotic fluid that was once his father suddenly drain from his body.  He felt his form begin squeezing rhythmically outside his control, slowly forcing the baby boy contained within out through a tight tube connected to him.  As the infant was pushed out, he was left with an increasing and uncomfortable emptiness, having been filled with fluid and fetus for eight long months.

The former teenager had mostly accepted his new lot in life, realizing there wouldn't be any escape from it anyway.  The baby he once called Mom continued being pushed out of his convulsing body, and he finally felt the tiny feet exit his chamber.  Ray wasn't completely finished contracting, and he found himself mentally apologizing to his screaming host for the pain he was causing her.  After all, he felt the pain even more strongly than she could, and it was absolutely excruciating.

His body finally slowed it's contractions, coming to a stop as he heard the woman name her newborn son.  He could just barely hear the metallic noise of a pair of scissors underneath the sudden screech of pain from the umbilical cord, with a significant portion of his former little sister's body being rapidly pulled back into his chamber.  Ray couldn't hear anything coming from the now-useless tube, so he figured Alma had chosen to focus on the portion of herself still attached to the infant.  He couldn't blame her; if he could, he would choose to exist in the outside world as well.

Days went by, and he felt something inside him begin to loosen.  Ray knew it was the placenta and remains of the umbilical cord getting ready to be expelled from his chamber.  Even more days later, and the last of the signs of his host's pregnancy was finally gone, the shriveled portion of his former sister going with it.  With that, he was left completely alone for the first time since they had been transformed.

Ray would exist in permanent darkness from then on.  Three weeks later, he began contracting again, being forced to give his host her first period since giving birth.  He apologized profusely, even with the knowledge that she couldn't hear him.  In fact, no one would ever hear him again.

Months went by, with a week of painful menstruation contained within each.  After the tell-tale movements of his host and her husband's intimacy, he felt something in particular change within him.  Somehow, Ray instinctively knew he was about to have another child growing within him, but this time he would go through the process alone.  He wasn't looking forward to it, but he knew it was entirely out of his control.  He was just a uterus after all, and would be until the day his host died.

Nine months later, Ray began contracting painfully once again as the soon-to-be-born little girl was forced out of him.

Alma felt her father's liquid body drain out of the area around her, and she started hearing the muffled sound of a woman screaming in pain.  She had a strong idea of what was happening, but wasn't entirely sure until she felt her ropey body being pulled out of her big brother's chamber.  Connected to her former mother as she was, she was dragged along with the baby boy, squeezed between his chest and the tight tube they were being pushed along while still being partially wrapped around the infant's left leg.

She heard the voices and screaming become clearer and clearer, until she finally began exiting the woman, still connected to the new baby's stomach.  Part of her tube body remained inside the new mother, the difference in temperature being deeply uncomfortable for her.  Alma would've been happy to be able to see the outside world again, but not only was the world infinitely larger from her new perspective, she also saw the doctor's gloved hand approaching.

She felt the latex-covered fingers take hold of a portion of her body, right up against the crying baby's stomach.  The doctor then tied that part of her into a tight knot, leaving her in mild pain with the blood flow from the new mother mostly cut off.  Finally, Alma watched in horror as a pair of scissors was lowered toward her, opening  with the blades on either side of her.  She felt the cold metal come into contact with her just above the uncomfortable knot.  With an unbelievably quick motion, the sharp steel blades cruelly sliced through her, severing the connection between baby and mother once and for all.  She shrieked in pain as she felt the larger part of herself be drawn back into the mother's womb.

A cream was applied to her stub of a body, quickly dulling the pain from being cut in two.  Alma's vision was partially obscured by the substance, but it did nothing to hide the knowledge of her new existence.  She may have been turned into an umbilical cord (not that she knew the term), but she would now live as nothing but her mother-turned-baby's bellybutton.  Her consciousness now confined to a tiny divot in the infant boy's abdomen, she would be an unwilling passenger in the newly-named Emmett's life.

Days went by, the girl-turned-bellybutton quickly healing from the process that left her in this pathetic new form.  Alma tried to get her new host's attention, but the infant gave no sign of being able to hear her.  She found herself considering herself lucky the newborn was rarely fully dressed, giving her a decent view of the world, however terrifyingly large it may have been.  She relished in whatever enjoyment she could pull from her new life on the boy's belly, especially the soft baby blue blankets he was regularly wrapped in.

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Years later, Emmett was celebrating his 5th birthday.  He'd had an amazing second childhood, with a large group of friends he met in preschool currently gathered around him.  The boy was eternally grateful to the genie who gave him this new life, and he was looking forward to starting kindergarten at the end of the summer.  For now, he was more focused on opening his presents, eagerly awaiting the next part of the party.  It was mid-July after all, and his parents had decided on a pool party.  Emmett loved the water, and was doing well in his beginner swimming lessons.

His old family largely forgotten, he began tearing into the present from his best friend Cheyenne.  She and her parents had gotten him a cool shirt from his favorite TV show, and he couldn't wait to try it on after the party.  He looked up from the present, seeing his mother occupying his little sister out of the corner of his eye.  Her stomach was bulging more than ever from the twin girls contained within, less than a month from their due date.

Emmett thought of his old family for the first time since he relearned how to talk.  How was Ray the uterus holding up, stretched out twice as much as he had ever been before, while still confined in unending darkness?  What about Liam, his ever-increasingly diluted form circulating through the water cycle?  Not to mention Alma, trapped under his shirt as she was, a miniscule detail of the growing boy's body.

With a shrug, the birthday boy put those thoughts out of his mind for the last time.  He had a new family now, and he wasn't going to let himself be dragged down by the old one.  Oblivious to the heartlessness of that thought, he moved on to the next present, tearing into the wrapping paper with childish excitement.

A Regressed Society: Celtic Tranquility

 

A Regressed Society: Reunited

 

Twisted Wishes: Sharing Everything Part 2

Kiki here, formerly Kiera and Colton, but it's Kiera writing this.  It's been 8 whole years since we were reborn into our new life, and we've adapted as well as we can.

We never did learn how to walk.  Things like eating and drinking were easy enough to figure out, but the coordination needed to move our legs without messing up and falling over proved too difficult for us.  Thus, we've been confined to a wheelchair since age 3, with each increase in size being an event nearly as important as our birthday.  It was lucky we were at least able to learn how to coordinate our arms to move the wheels, but we're getting a motorized one soon to make things easier for us.

Getting dressed is a chore in itself, having to rely on feeling the limbs we weren't in control of in order to do the daily task.  I usually let Colton choose our outfits, and he tends to point to our dresses more often than not.  He's adapted well to living as a girl, although it should be said that slipping into a dress is a lot easier for us than putting on a pair of pants.  We can pull our naturally frizzy hair into a ponytail just fine, but Mom has to help us with anything more complicated than that.  Earrings especially necessitate us using our 'help' button.

Oh yeah, we don't really talk.  Each of us controls half of our mouth and tongue, and while eating and drinking are easy enough, speech has proven a near-impossible task.  We communicate more through simplified single-handed sign language and writing down what we want to say.  It's left us without many friends, but few we have are the nicest, most supportive kids you could ever imagine.  I guess it's lucky our body is ambidextrous, because that gives us an avenue to actually communicate.

In our free time in our bedroom, we spend a lot of time at our desk, taking turns writing in our locked diary.  We keep it locked with a password, because if Mom and Dad ever managed to read anything in it, they would see it as the mad ramblings of a person with a split personality.  If they found out, we could end up in a mental ward to be studied due to our bizarre circumstance.

Yesterday, we found out that we had a psychiatrist appointment today.  Our 'disability' was never diagnosed, and it seems like they want to change that.  We know that there isn't a medical reason for our situation, but what are we supposed to write for them?  "Hi, I'm actually two people in one body because we made wishes to an evil genie" won't exactly be taken seriously, especially from an 8-year-old.  Maybe it'll be decided that we're a set of extremely conjoined twins, the likes of which has never been seen before?  Maybe we'll be diagnosed with some extreme psychological disorder that doesn't show up in our brain scans.

Either way, we're not looking forward to this appointment.  It's probably going to substantially change our life, and Colton and I can't really think of a way that this ends well for us.  However, something Colton wrote last night before bed has stuck with me.

'Maybe they can do something to actually fix us.  What if they can do something that gives full control to just one of us, instead of being split down the middle.  Our life as Kiki would be a lot easier that way.'

I had responded with a proposal.  'If that's the case, you can have control.  You were only 7 when this happened to us, and we're eight now.  I've had a full childhood, and you deserve the same, even if it's as a girl.  I'll always be here with you.'

With the thought of our conversation in mind, we rolled our wheelchair out of our room to meet Mom.

Turned out, the appointment wasn't with a normal doctor.

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Hey, Kiki here, even though my name used to be Colton.  Our new mother had figured out our password, and knew a normal psychiatrist couldn't help us.  So, that appointment wasn't with a doctor, but instead a psychic who had experience with victims of the evil genie.  She realized right away that we were two different people, and asked Mom and I to talk to her through our writing.  We explained what was going on, and Mom told her that I was the one who should be in control.  A quick spell later...

I still wish I could talk to her again, but I know this is for the better.  Without her controlling the left half of our body, I'm quickly learning how to walk again, even if I'm still in a wheelchair most of the time.  Relearning how to talk has been going a bit more slowly, but I'm making a lot of progress.

As for being a girl, I'm perfectly fine with it.  After all, I've been Kiki longer than I was Colton, and I find myself choosing more girly outfits over plain shirt-and-pants combos.  Caring for my hair has been a learning experience, it's natural texture a lot different than my old short blonde.  Being African-American instead of white has been a cool change too, and I'm proud of my new heritage.

Mom and Dad are immensely proud of how far I've come since that psychic appointment, and I'm excited for the future.  Turns out, I'm going to be a big sister soon!  I was an only child before, so I can't wait to know what having a sibling is like.  I'm secretly hoping for a sister, so I can show her the wonders of being a girl that I've discovered.

All in all, as twisted as our wishes became, I think things have turned out for the better.  I have a loving family instead of having to live with a father who only ever paid attention to his airheaded girlfriend.  My friend group is expanding now that I'm getting better, and I'm hoping to try out gymnastics once I'm on my own two feet.  And through it all, I know my former mother is still here with me, seeing out of my eyes and sharing in every experience.  I like to think she's proud of me, but I guess there isn't really any way to tell.

This has been Kiki, age 8, signing off.

 

Twisted Wishes: Sharing Everything part 1

  We found the lamp on our way home one day, after I picked up my son, Colton, from his father's house.  The glinting sunlight reflected off of it's red-and-black metal surface caught Colton's eye, and he picked up.  He thought I might be able to sell it for food money, so I graciously took it into my hands.

When my husband divorced me, he took damn near everything I had.  My house, money, car, and Colton himself all passed into his custody, even though HE'S the one that cheated on me.  He had the job, so the court decided our son would be better off living with him and his bimbo girlfriend.  Seriously, even Colton knew he was smarter than that blonde bitch, and he absolutely hated every second of living with the duo.  Unfortunately for him, the court wouldn't take the opinion of a 7-year-old into consideration, so he only got to spend time with his vastly preferred parent for two days every other weekend.

We finally arrived at my apartment, barely paid for by my job at a local convenience store, and Colton and I settled in for a fun night of pizza and board games.  Finally, my son reminded me of the lamp we had found.

"Say, Mom, that thing looks kinda like a genie lamp.  Maybe if you rub it, a real live genie'll come out!"  The kid may have been smart, but he was still a child with a wild imagination.  Still, I decided to humor him.

"Who knows?" I started, grabbing the elegant black handle.  "Guess we'll never know if we don't try, eh?"  I gave the lamp an enthusiastic rub, playing up the act for my child's entertainment.

Imagine my shock, and Colton's excitement, when an actual genie came out of the lamp!  He looked like an extremely muscular grey-skinned man, much more intimidating than the 30-year-old woman and 7-year-old boy who had summoned him.

"Greetings, mistress and young master," the genie announced in a loud, booming voice.  "You have summoned me from my long slumber.  As a reward, you each will be granted one wish."

"Only one?  Huh, that's weird..." Colton muttered under his breath, before he practically shouted his wish at the genie.  "I wish I could stay with Mom and never have to see Dad again!"

"Hmm..." began the genie, clearly thinking to himself.  "What about you, Mistress?"

I thought about it for a few seconds.  Colton clearly had this wish in mind for a long time, so my wish had to be good.  Finally, I came to a decision.  "I wish I could share in everything as Colton grows, without us struggling like I am now."  There, that should be fine, right?

Suddenly, the genie broke out in laughter.  "Truly unique and selfless wishes, from the both of you!"  I really didn't like the tone his voice was taking...  "Your wishes are my commands, Mistress and Master."  With that, he snapped his fingers, and... to the outside world, a mother and son vanished, completely erased from reality.

---------

"Come on honey, just a few more pushes!" is how the muffled voice welcomed me to my new existence.  My surroundings were dark and slimy, and I felt the fleshy walls slide past me.  An unholy screech rang out, becoming less muffled as I slid further along.  I felt cool air on the top of my head, and the voice rang out again, much clearer this time.  "That's it babe, just one more!"  It was a man's voice I was hearing, clearly trying to encourage someone.  It sounded like someone was giving birth.  Why was I in the vicinity, then?

As I felt a gloved hand cup the top of my head, I became more and more exposed to the air.  My skin was moist with... something... and frankly I was freezing.  I felt my emotions well up, and against my will, I instinctively started crying.

However, it wasn't the wail of a grown woman.  My own infantile shrieking clued me in on what was going on:  The genie had forced me into a brand new body, and I had just been born.  I had been pushed out of some stranger's vagina, and now I was being wrapped in an incredibly soft pink blanket.  I must not have noticed my umbilical cord being cut, since I hadn't opened my eyes yet.  The giant blanket soothed my crying, and as I was engulfed in someone's arms - likely my new mother's - I became silent.

I felt something bump against my lips, and my mouth opened itself.  I started suckling on instinct, and I tasted the warm breast milk entering my mouth.  As I slowly drifted off to a confused sleep, my eyes opened slightly for a fraction of a second, and I saw the dark brown breast I was breastfeeding from.  It was more than double the size of my head!  My eyes closed again, and I wondered what had happened to Colton as I fell asleep in my new mother's arms.

Waking up some time later, I discovered that I was not, in fact, dreaming.  I was clutched in my new mother's arms, and I got a better look at her.  She was clearly African-American, her frizzy hair having been pulled into a rough ponytail.  The giant woman looked down at me with complete adoration.  "How's my little Kiki this morning?" she cooed, informing me of my new name.  "Time for breakfast!"  She raised me to her bare breast, and I was breastfed once again.  Was this really my life now?  That of some stranger's newborn daughter, to be coddled and breastfed day after day until I could handle solid food?  I was supposed to be an independent woman, not a helpless infant not even a day old!  And where was Colton?!

I finally got my answer as I felt my right arm reach around my new mother's breast.  'Wait, I didn't do that...' I thought to myself.  Experimentally, I successfully reached out with my left arm, but I couldn't make the right one budge.  It was moving of it's own volition, as was my left leg.  I thought back to the wishes that Colton and I had made, and suddenly everything made perfect sense.

My right half wasn't just moving on it's own; Colton was the one doing it.  In granting our wishes, we had been placed into a single baby girl's body, with control split between us.  We couldn't hear each other's thoughts, and our body was prone to acting on instinct, which explained why it took me so long to figure it out.  He would stay with me and never have to see his father, and I would share in every experience, all because we were now the same person.

How was Colton feeling about all this?  Not only was our new body an infant, but we were also a girl.  He must've figured that out by now, with how much of our surroundings were a muted pink color (although only muted because of our own underdeveloped eyes).  Had he figured out where I was?  And had he thought of what our future would entail?

For the time being, we suckled from our mother's breast.  Her milk would be the only sustenance we could handle for a few months.  The adults around us would assume we couldn't understand anything they said, unaware of the truth of our situation.  A wet feeling on our behind reminded me that we were wearing a diaper, and would be dependent on them for at least a few years.

I had been checked out mentally for a few minutes, but I was shaken out of my reverie when I heard our mother speak up.  "Why isn't she moving her left side?  It's almost like the two sides are separate...  I should probably talk to the doctor about that..."

Oh crap.  With our new body under our split control, Colton and I would have to learn how to work together with little-to-no communication between us.  How would we learn to walk?  Heck, even crawling might be too complicated for us...  I started paying more attention, and tried my best to make my movements make sense compared to Colton's.  I saw our right arm's motions slow down, telling me he had figured out the same thing.

Our attempts at acting like a single person didn't work.  It was obvious something weird was going on, and no amount of effort on our part was going to change that.  The doctor figured out that our two sides operated independently, and plans were quickly made to accommodate the odd disability.  As 'Mom' and the doctors discussed our future, we laid on our left side on the table.  Colton's hand reached for the stuffed rabbit we were given after our first two weeks, and my hand curled into a fist in our mouth.  The world saw us as a baby, why should we act like anything different?  It was comforting to us, as our bizarre shared life was just beginning...

TF Virus Part 6 (ending)

  It was the morning after our wedding that I heard Mom's voice pipe up again.  As I was waking up after a night with my new husband, her voice echoed in my mind.

"It's time.  See you in nine months, Mom!"

I shared the news with Kato as soon as he woke up from our... rather active night.  He was elated that he was going to be a father so soon, and I shared in his excitement for a very different reason.  In some way, I would finally see my birth mother again.

As the months went by, Mom remained mostly silent.  I went through a very normal pregnancy as my mother-turned-offspring grew within me.  Through it all, Kato was the perfect gentleman, always willing to provide whatever I needed at the moment.  I couldn't help but wonder what Mom's experience was like, having a completely new body develop from scratch.

Six months passed, and the ultrasound gave me a picture of my soon-to-be son.  Yes, it turned out that the woman who raised me (the first time) was going to be reborn as a boy.  What would THAT be like, growing up as the opposite gender?  I supposed she would adapt quickly, thanks to the mental effects of the Virus.

Finally, the time came.  My water broke during a fancy dinner with Kato, and I was rushed to the hospital.  It was a long, arduous night of labor, but it was all worth it when I laid my eyes on my baby boy.  They asked what his name would be, and I knew the answer immediately.

"Dion," I answered while holding the tiny newborn to my chest.  In that moment, I resolved to be the best mother I could possibly be.  It was the least I could do for the boy who was once my own mother.

The days with Dion in the maternity ward were the longest of my life.  He had been born with trouble breathing, so they were monitoring him closely.  I didn't sleep well due to my constant worrying, but Kato did his best to keep me as happy as possible.  It turned out that Dion had mild asthma, so while he would need to be watched closely, we were sent home with basic supplies and educational material.

I showed Dion around the house, knowing full well he was asleep for most of the tour.  As I fed him afterward, I looked at the little infant suckling from my breast in wonder.  How was this boy my former mother?  I knew it was her in control of that tiny body, looking through those deep brown eyes.

--------

Months went by, then years, and I watched as my mother-turned-son grew from a tiny infant into the boy he is today.  Dion learned to walk, then run.  Once he learned to talk, it became obvious he was growing into a perfectly normal boy, even if he was a fair bit more intelligent than other children his age.  He was energetic and rambunctious, but never a trouble maker.  He made friends quickly in daycare, and he just started preschool a month ago.  I couldn't more proud of my little man.

It's turning out to be a chilly beginning to October, but that's not going to stop me from bringing Dion to the park.  His rescue inhaler is in my purse just in case, but he never seems to be concerned.  He knows that if he starts having an attack, I'll be right there to help in seconds.

Dion came running to me, holding his right hand in the other.  "Mama, I think I hurt my finger," he said, not even close to being in tears the way many other children would be.  It was amazing how his decades of maturity would show itself from time to time, and this was one of those times.

Sure enough, there was a small cut on his index finger.  I knelt down to his level, pulling a bandage out from my purse.  I carefully wrapped it around Dion's finger, then gave it a little kiss for good measure.  My son's giggling was infectious, and soon enough he was being spun around in my arms while his laughter rang throughout the park.

Dion can't wait to start kindergarten next year, and with my recent positive pregnancy test, he's also looking forward to being a big brother.  Kato's hoping for a girl this time, and Dion and I can't agree more.  With the last TF Virus victim finally transforming - an older man turned into a little girls' skirt, now owned by his 6-year-old granddaughter - we all look to the future in excited anticipation.  After all, there's nowhere to go but up.

This has been Wren, age 26, soon-to-be proud mother of two, signing out.

TF Virus 5

  Continued from Part 4

I had fallen asleep the night before in Mom's warm, comforting embrace.  As I woke up the next morning, I found myself alone in bed, some level of residual body heat still lingering in the blankets next to me.  I tried digging through the covers to find her newly transformed body, until I was interrupted by a voice in my head.

"You're not gonna find me there, Wren," Mom's voice rang out.  "There's a reason I wanted to sleep next to you before my transformation."

"Where are you, Mama?" I cried out, not understanding what she meant, or why her voice was in my head instead of emanating from the object she had turned into.  Her answer sent chills through my whole body.

"I'm inside you."

I froze.  She was... inside me?  What was she?  How did that even happen?  "I... don't understand..." I said slowly.

"I turned into one of your eggs.  That's why I had to be near you, or else I wouldn't have had a host."

"One of my -" I began, but Mom interrupted me again.

"You've been an amazing daughter, Wrenni.  I can't wait to see you again, as my new mother.  Until then, I'll be right here with you.  Always."  With that, she fell silent.

I broke down right there and then.  My mother was trapped as an immature egg cell inside my developing ovaries, and she didn't seem to be planning on piping up until her eventually reborn self learned to talk.  What was that like, being stuck in complete darkness and completely dwarfed by every other unseen thing around you?  Why did I have to be the lucky one to stay human?

It was Amara that came in to comfort me, having heard me sobbing from her and Makenna's bedroom.  I looked up at her after she sat down on my bed, and we didn't need any words.  Our shared hug spoke for us.

---------

As time went on, I learned to accept everything that had happened.  The last few TF Virus victims went through their transformations, some of them ending up under my new family's care.  A man-turned-clock was hung on one of Alaiya's walls, a set of teenage twins lived in Mama-kenna's sock drawer, and a former mother of 3 girls was my first ever training bra.

It was two years after Mom's transformation that Dad and Evelyn finally got fed up with living in a drawer.  They were finally donated to a local store set up for Virus victims, ending up with new owners who would actually let them fulfill their purpose.  Dad seems to have been bought by an out-of-towner, but I still see Evelyn from time to time, wrapped tightly around a little girl's torso as she splashes around in the local pool.  I recently saw a different girl wearing her, and she's probably been through several different owners as each one outgrows her.

As for me?  I grew into my new life quite well.  My two new Moms were amazing to be raised by, always showering me with love and affection as if I was their biological daughter.  Even Alaiya, being our house, has enjoyed watching and sheltering us through the years, and we love the idea that our house is an active member of our family.

I had my first period a few weeks after my 11th birthday, just after getting Ellen the training bra.  It dawned on me that my former mother could technically be lost this way, but she finally made her presence known by reassuring me that she was still there after each cycle.  She still refused to say anything any other time, but it was honestly better for my mental health if I could mostly forget that she was there, still resting deep inside my reproductive system.

I started showing real interest in boys around age 12, and had my first boyfriend by the time I turned 14.  That relationship didn't last very long, but by virtue of being a gymnast and cheerleader, I always had someone vying for my attention.  It wasn't until my first year of college that I met Kato.  It was his eyes that drew me in, and we were married two years later.

Where does that leave Mom?  Well...

Forced to Watch (anonymous request)

  As the stupid tourists pull out their cameras, my mother calls my siblings to pose.  She turns toward the gawkers, leaving me mostly out of the picture behind her back.  Little do the white people know, but they're actually taking a picture of two families at once.

My family and I were once one of those gawking American families, coming on tour to visit the Himba people of Namibia.  A middle-aged couple with 4 kids, ranging from age 7 to 17.  I was the oldest of those kids, 17-year-old Cassian, tasked with watching over my little brother Finn.  He thought he could take care of himself, but he was only 11, so I still had to act as his babysitter.  My sisters, Daphne and Alice, were paired together as well, and they seemed a lot more interested in the tribe.  Cassian seemed to only be interested in one thing, being the bare female chests all around him.  I don't think Mom and Dad thought long enough about bringing the pubescent boy on the trip, but there he was anyway.

The women of the tribe seemed annoyed at us being there, especially with Finn refusing to look a single one of them in the eye.  The tour guides joined my parents and me in trying to tell him off, but one of the Himba women finally snapped.  Even the tour guide seemed to be confused as to what she was saying, but she shouted at us rapidly in what must not have been her native language, then threw some kind of powder at me.

My body suddenly froze in place.  It was like time around me completely stopped, and I could feel my body beginning to warp itself into a new form.  The woman and her older daughter went around the now-frozen encampment, finding the rest of my motionless family and throwing the same powder at them.  As I watched the world grow around me, I realized they were casting spells on us.  My body began compacting itself into a much smaller version of itself as the mother walked back over to me.

She began talking to me in her native language, but I could somehow understand what she was saying, as if her words were being translated into English in my mind.  "We've had enough of your staring, looking at us like pieces of meat.  You seemed decent enough though, so you get to transform first and then watch your family.  You're getting off easy, but I can't say the same for the others."

With that, she watched my transformation with great interest.  I continued shrinking, and I noticed my skin getting darker and darker as the seconds went by.  She grabbed my wrist to hold my hand in front of my face, and I watched my now dark brown fingers get shorter and thicker.  It was obviously a small child's hand now, and the woman towering over me made me realize that the rest of me probably matched by now.  I was still getting smaller, and I felt my muscles weaken to the point where I probably couldn't walk anymore.  My clothing evaporated into dust, which coated my tiny body and added a slight reddish hue to my new skin.  A black bracelet appeared around my right wrist, and a piece of rope wrapped itself around my right ankle.  A sharp pain between my legs as my changes came to an end made me suddenly realize exactly what my future entailed.

"Ah, my adorable little baby girl!" she cooed in her language, still being translated in my mind.  "You don't get to be unfrozen yet though.  It's time for your family to find their new futures!"  I watched through my changed, unmoving eyes as she walked over to Finn's frozen form.  A little more powder was thrown his way, and his transformation started.

His body began shrinking, while also slimming at an alarming pace.  Finn was becoming significantly thinner than any human should ever be, and as his skin gained a metallic sheen I realized I was lucky to end up as a baby Himba girl.  His ever-shrinking body started bending around itself, forming a simple ring of metal.  The former 11-year-old boy's form settled into its new shape, and the woman picked him up and slid him over her arm, coming to a rest around her upper arm as the simple metal armband he had become.  What was she planning for the rest of my family?

I watched as the woman's older daughter - my new big sister, I guess? - approached my father, Silas.  The girl looked to be 9 or 10, utterly dwarfed by the 40-year-old man frozen in front of her.  That wouldn't last after she blew more powder onto him, jumpstarting his own transformation.  He began shrinking, like his two sons before him, but unlike Finn, he remained humanoid.  Not human though, as his skin gained a straw-like texture and began separating into threads.  Much of his shrinking body turned into tightly-wound rope, shaped into a vaguely human form.  His hair grew out and turned into similarly wound rope dyed a different color, forming what looked like braids hanging from his head.  His clothing shrank into a simple cloth skirt around his waist, and his arms exploded into feathered blue threads attached to his shoulders.  Facial features disappeared entirely, and the girl finally picked up her new doll that used to be my father.

Next, the woman and her daughter approached Mom and Daphne respectively, the powder starting their transformations at the same time.  It became obvious the 40-year-old woman and 14-year-old girl were experiencing similar transformations.  Their arms and legs thinned out into string and combined to form loops.  Daphne's remaining body split into two portions attached to the limb-band, shrinking and simplifying into simple blue cloth.  The Himba girl partially disrobed and slipped into the new skirt my sister turned into.

Mom's transformation was a bit more complex, her body splitting into three cloth portions instead of two.  Two of the three turned a faded black color, but the third wrapped all the way around her waistband and gained a floral pattern across its dark grey fabric.  She was slid onto the woman's waist, falling in place around her hips.

Last but not least, the woman - my new mother, I suppose - approached Alice.  What was the 7-year-old thinking at that moment, having watched her entire family transform before her eyes?  I knew I would never find out, as one last blast of powder jumpstarted her transformation.  She shrank more than anyone else, her arms raising straight up and her body bending backwards to make her hands and feet meet.  They melted together, making her body one continuous loop.  Still shrinking, she formed three stripes that wrapped all the way around her, the outer two turning black while the middle turned a bright blue color.  Her flesh and blood gave way to simple rubber, and she finished her transformation as a tiny wristband.  The woman reached down to pick her up, and walked back over to me with my little sister clutched in her hand.  With a simple motion, Alice was slipped onto my own tiny wrist.

With a quick chant from the woman, the world around me unfroze, and I found myself finally able move.  Not that I could do much; being turned into a baby girl had removed a lot of my fine motor control, so I was stuck on my back.  Any words I tried to utter came out in infantile babbles and gurgles, so I did the only thing I could think of to vocalize my frustration.  I let loose my crying as my unwanted new mother picked me up, cradling me in her arms.  I heard her say something in her language, but her words weren't being translated in my mind anymore.  Ignoring her foreign cooing, I wept for myself, for my family, for our former lives and our horrific futures.

---------

I'm not sure how long it's been since our transformations.  It's hard to keep track of time when I have to sleep so often, my body putting most of my energy into growing.  I've had to endure breastfeeding, unintelligible baby talk, being held by my new older siblings, specifically NOT being bathed in any way, and being carried around in a primitive baby holder behind my new mother's back.  Knowing that I'll eventually grow into a woman not too dissimilar from her is a daunting thought that I try not to dwell on, but deep down I know I'm lucky.  I'll grow up, learn to walk, learn the language, and earn my independence years from now.  Sure, I'll end up marrying a man from the tribe and carry and give birth to several children, but I have it a lot better than the rest of my old family.

Mom and Daphne hang around their owner's hips more often than not, only occasionally removed when their fabric gets too dirty for even their unbathing wearers.  Finn stays wrapped around New Mother's arm, only ever adjusted and never removed.  Dad's form is showing wear and tear from his owner's playing, but he should still have a few years of use in him.  Alice, wrapped around my wrist as she is, is getting tight.  It'll probably only be a month or two, if that, before she's removed from my wrist for the first and last time, to be passed down to some other newborn in the tribe.

I really do wish I knew what exactly they were going through, but I'll have to settle for watching them being used by my new family.  They aren't treated like anything more than their new forms, their humanity long forgotten by their owners.  I'll have to settle for growing into the best little Himba girl I can be.  I may not understand the language yet, but at least I know my new name is Anele?  Every little advancement is greatly appreciated, and I almost can't wait until I'm allowed to wear a skirt.

Hopefully that skirt won't be some other transformed tourist...

Twisted Wishes: Immersed In Girlhood

  "¿Estás lista para el viaje de campamento, bragas?" comes the squeaky voice of Felicia, the little girl wearing me.  I don't know what she's saying, but I know she has to be talking to me based on the Spanish word 'bragas' always coming up when she addresses me directly.  Sure, my name used to be Brad, but that name is a foreign concept to my 6-year-old owner, despite the fact that she was once my own mother.

That genie really pulled a fast one on us.  After we found the red and black lamp gathering dust in the attic, he popped out while I was trying to clean it off.  He offered me and Mom one wish each, with the chance to specify what those wishes would entail.  Mom wanted to be young again, ideally from a new perspective, while I wanted to be closer to her.  I had just turned 17, and our relationship had been slowly drifting apart for years.  We simply didn't have much in common, the interests of a 17-year-old boy and 45-year-old woman worlds apart.

One of us got exactly what we wanted, as Mom transformed from 45-year-old Belle into 6-year-old Felicia, finding herself taking residence with a small family in a small town in Mexico.  She didn't speak a word of English, instead being fluent in her newly native Spanish.  I still wish that linguistic knowledge had passed onto me as well, as it would make my new existence at least a little more bearable.

Having woken up in darkness, I could feel heat radiating from beneath me - or was it inside me?  There was some kind of fabric surrounding me from all angles, blocking me from the outside world.

"¡Oh, Dios mío, me convertí en una niña pequeña!" came a little girl's voice from above me in rapid Spanish.  "¿Y estoy hablando español?  ¡Debo ser mexicana ahora!  No puedo esperar para conocer a mi nueva familia.  ¡Esto es tan emocionante!"  I felt movement from inside and out as the world around me started bouncing.  What was going on?  "Y si lo que pienso es correcto..."  Suddenly, the fabric surrounding me was pulled away, allowing light to stream in.  I could now see that the fabric was, in fact, the crotch area of a lime green pair of girls' leggings.  My vision was locked straight forward, which immediately told me exactly what I had turned into.  "¡Debes haberte convertido en mis bragas!  ¡Qué bonito color rosa resultaste ser tú también!  Ojalá recordara cuál era tu nombre...  Oh, bueno, Supongo que tu nombre es 'bragas' ahora."  With that matter-of-fact-sounding statement, the leggings were unceremoniously let go of, snapping back against the girl's waist and blocking out my vision again.  What was she saying?  Who was she?  And please tell me that the panties I had obviously turned into weren't pink...

The rest of the day was a blur of darkness, motion and rapid Spanish that I couldn't understand.  The girl's sweat started soaking into my fabric as she played around outside on the hot summer day, and I tried to occupy my mind with anything other than the fact I was wrapped around a small girl's waist, keeping her privates hidden and protected while my back stretched across her buttocks.  Not only that, but I was wondering what happened to my mother.  She had made a wish as well, right?  She wanted to be younger, with a new perspective -

Oh.  What was the probability that the little Hispanic girl wearing me, chatting with other kids her age in rapid undecipherable Spanish, was actually my Mom?  It suddenly seemed guaranteed, seeing as I wished to be closer to her without specifying what I meant.  At least it made me feel SLIGHTLY less creepy about my new position.  Not by much, though.

Hours later, the girl that used to be my mother entered a cooler area, probably having come back inside her new home after a long day playing outside with her new peers.  Her movement didn't seem to slow down for a while, but I got to experience the discomfort of being sat on as she ate supper.  Having my backside sandwiched between the hard surface of the dining room chair and the admittedly soft bottom of my wearer wasn't pleasant, but at least I was mostly at rest.  Mostly, because the girl seemed rather restless, so she kept fidgeting in her seat, disturbing my fabric with every little movement she made.

More hours of constant movement later, the leggings covering me were finally slipped off.  The girl started walking, introducing me to the action while I could actually see.  The room around me was almost painfully pink, clearly belonging to an incredibly girly child.  Most importantly, she came to a rest in front of a full-body mirror attached to her closet door.

My owner and wearer was a Hispanic child no older than 6, her dark brown hair pulled back into a simple ponytail to combat the summer heat.  I saw the lime green leggings laying on the floor behind her, leaving her clad in a white tank top, as well as her underwear.  Sure enough, at my eye level, wrapped tightly around the little girl's waist, was a bright pink pair of panties that happened to contain the consciousness of a 17-year-old white kid from Idaho.  I looked positively tiny, even compared to the tiny girl who I would now have to consider to be my owner.

"Pues bragas, lo siento si tu día no fue tan divertido como el mío," the girl said while looking down at her underwear.  There was that 'bragas' word again.  That must mean panties, meaning the Spanish word for my new form was embarrassingly similar to my old name.  "¡Creo que es hora de una reintroducción!  Mi nombre es Felicia, ya partir de ahora seré tu dueña.  Por lo menos hasta que me haga demasiado grande para ti.  Sé que solías ser mi hijo, pero probablemente no debería tratarte de manera diferente a otras bragas en mi cajón.  ¡Disfruta de la noche debajo de mi camisón, bragas!"

As she left the mirror behind after her one-sided conversation that I couldn't understand, I tried to come to terms with what little information I was able to discern from her words.  I definitely heard the name Felicia, so I finally knew my owner's name.  She clearly knew I was there, since she seemed to be talking directly to me, but she certainly didn't know I couldn't understand her.  Lastly, it seemed like she had no intention of treating me any differently from any other pair of panties, as the loose fabric of a white nightgown fell in front of my vision.  Much of the light disappeared with the click of a switch, and the girl who I once called Mom tucked herself into bed, leaving me in the darkness under her blanket for the rest of the night.

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

It's been a few weeks now since I started my existence as a pair of Felicia's panties.  Her home was the house owned by her parents, who showered their daughter with love and praise, all in a language I couldn't understand.  Mom's new life sure seems to make her happy, having received a brand new start to a brand new life.

I wish I could be happy for her, but she's forgotten to wipe after peeing a couple too many times for me to feel anything other than resentment toward her.  Why does she get a fantastic new home and family while I get to deal with her urine, sweat and farts in between dizzying, suffocating rides through the washer and dryer?  I now have to call a little girl's underwear drawer my home, no different from the other colorful-but-lifeless pieces of fabric that I share the drawer with.  I constantly feel like I'm invading Felicia's privacy, despite the fact that I'm fulfilling the very purpose my new form was designed for.

Even as Felicia cheerfully brushes her teeth above me, having not gotten dressed for the day just yet, I absolutely can't share in her otherwise infectious joy.  I won't know what she's getting ready for until it's already happening, but at least I'll be able to see something.  She laid out a light pink sundress after putting me on this morning without setting out a pair of shorts to cover me.  I can feel the oppressive heat around me, even being inside the house, so it must be hot enough outside that the air conditioning can't quite keep up, so she must be forgoing the shorts so she can keep as cool as possible.  Great, more sweat...

Felicia starts speaking to me again while I'm forced to stare at the bathroom cupboard door.  "¡No puedo esperar para acampar durante la semana, bragas!  Lo siento, vas a gastar la mayor parte dentro de una bolsa de lavandería..  Quiero decir, ahí es donde van las bragas sucias.  ¡Nos vemos la próxima semana, supongo!"  Still don't know what she's talking about, but I saw a suitcase in her room on the way to the bathroom, and she sure seems excited about something...

English translations:

"Ready for the camping trip, panties?"

-------

"Oh my gosh, I turned into a little girl!"

"And am I speaking Spanish?  I must be Mexican now!  I can't wait to meet my new family.  This is so exciting!"

"And if what I think is correct..."

"You must have become my panties! What a pretty pink color you turned out to be too! I wish I remembered what your name was... Oh well, I guess your name is 'panties' now."

"Well panties, I'm sorry if your day wasn't as fun as mine."

""I think it's time for a reintroduction!  My name is Felicia, and from now on I will be your owner.  At least until I get too big for you.  I know you used to be my son, but I probably shouldn't treat you any different than other panties in my drawer.  Enjoy the night under my nightgown, panties!"

-------

"Can't wait to camp out for the week, panties! Sorry, you're going to spend most of it inside a laundry bag. I mean, that's where the dirty panties go. See you next week I guess!"

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...

A Regressed Society: A Rewarded Otaku

 

Karmic Justice