Amalgamation 5/31: Intestinal Drama

 Originally by SportsTF; rewritten by me

A Random Bout of Frugality (also, I'm back!)

  32-year-old single father Howard never fully understood exactly what happened.  One moment, he was shopping with his 8-year-old son Malek, and listening to some Hispanic woman muttering about her daughter needing a new school uniform.  The next, Howard, Malek and several other people around them found themselves falling to the floor.  Most gently fluttered, though Howard fell quickly and landed with twin 'thunk' sounds.

Now utterly disoriented with his vision pointed in two very different directions, he watched as several items of clothing were picked up from the near-eye-level ground.  A white hair scrunchie, white blouse, dark blue dress, white training bra and panties, black spandex shorts... A pair of white socks was lifted, and Howard heard the unmistakable voice of the Hispanic woman from earlier speak up.

"Oh look, I seem to have captured a little family.  How cute!  How about I let the two of you talk?"  She snapped her fingers, and Howard could suddenly hear Malek's voice ringing in his... ears?  He didn't really feel like he had ears anymore...  "There we go, isn't that better?  Oh, look at the time!  I'd better get these new clothes to my Isabela before anyone realizes anything weird..."

The assortment of clothing had been shoved into a bag by now, including the pair of socks that Malek's voice seemed to be emanating from.  Finally, the woman reached down toward Howard, her massive fingers hooking inside some unseen part of his body.  He felt his form move randomly and separately, so perhaps the term 'bodies' was more accurate...  He was dropped on top of the clothing in the bag, with a sharp "Ouch!" from Malek as he landed on top of the socks.

A confusing collection of light, color and rough movement followed as Howard and the other contents of the bag were carried through the store.  The only break in the next half hour was the face and hands of a male worker checking to make sure the items of clothing weren't being stolen.  By now, Howard had realized that his 'bag-mates' were, in fact, transformed people, and that he and Malek had been transformed as well.  He tried to wrap his clearly non-existent head around the undisputable fact that his young son was now a pair of girls' white socks as they were carried out of the store.  The woman would drive them to their new home, and by extension, their new owner.

As it turned out, their owner was an 11-year-old girl by the name of Isabela, and she attended a nearby private school.  Clearly this small family was wealthy; the woman had merely decided she didn't want to pay for her daughter's newest uniform this time.  It didn't seem like she used her otherworldly abilities very often.  The people around her that day had simply been convenient victims to her random bout of frugality.

Their first day being worn wasn't exactly pleasant for anyone involved not named Isabela.  Howard couldn't speak for most of the fellow clothing, although he couldn't imagine the person-turned-panties was having a good time.  He and Malek had the unique perspective of being split into two bodies each.  Howard listened as his son was pulled onto the older girl's tan legs, feeling as her newly-grown leg hair poked roughly into his fabric.  Finally, it was his turn.

Howard's left half was picked up by the gargantuan Hispanic tween, and slipped onto her left foot.  The Malek-covered appendage fit perfectly into Howard's inner cavity, and he felt his unwanted metal piece be buckled into place, locking his strap in place.  The process was repeated with his right half, and Isabela stood upright, ready to start her day.

The girl probably only weighed about 90 pounds, and yet Howard felt as if he was being crushed by a near-infinite weight.  The gentle thuds of his rubber soles hitting the ground were the only reminder of just how light she really was, and how insignificant he had become.  He thought of his son, partially contained within his own father and stretching a mere inch or two above the girl's ankles.

Howard's vision was locked to the front-facing toe region, so the world passed by in a disorienting whirl of fast-moving shapes, too quick for him to fully comprehend.  The girl simply continued with her morning routine, eating breakfast and donning her backpack, completely oblivious to the torture she was putting her new uniform through.  The group of eight former humans acted as unwilling passengers to a perfectly average school day for their 11-year-old owner.

Today is another school day, and Isabela is waiting at her bus stop.  Howard tries to enjoy the brief break from her walking, even if she still moves her feet around in the restless manner he has grown used to over the past few months.  He has no way of knowing if the rest of her outfit today is made of ex-humans, but he knows the socks contained within him definitely aren't.  After all, he was being worn the day the basic socks were bought from the very store he and Malek were taken from.

Howard has gotten used to seeing from the girl's toes as she walks, to the point where it's no longer disorienting for him.  The weight, although slowly increasing, is certainly bearable, and the repetitive impact of her footsteps no longer bother him in the slightest.  The only thing he struggles with is the fact that Isabela obviously has no idea what her mother did, and doesn't know that she wears transformed people on a regular basis.  Oh, and the fact that Malek has gone missing.

In reality, Malek was packed in Isabela's suitcase when she and her family went on vacation.  On the final night, a small nick in her big toenail tore a hole in his fabric.  The new hole bothered her more than the one that had formed on the bottom of his other half, so she took him off.  Having returned home the day before, Malek's twin cotton bodies rest in a small garbage can in the hotel room, along with a discarded box, a couple tissues, and a pair of Isabela's tights that developed a bad run.  The former boy now waits for hotel maintenance to come in and seal his final fate...

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.

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

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.

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

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 Bully Beached

 

"Hey, you're in my spot, pipsqueak."

Tamah stopped building her sandcastle for a second to find out who was so rudely interrupting her.  Towering over the four-year-old's crouched frame was a fair-skinned 10-year-old in a yellow swimsuit, her hands planted firmly on her hips.  She didn't look irritated; rather, she looked like she was looking for trouble.  Tamah had dealt with bullies like this before, but her Mommy had told her not to do it again.  After all, their abilities were supposed to be kept secret.

"I was here first," Tamah began, already turning back to her castle, "so pick on someone your own size, meanie."  'There, that should take care of that,' the dark-skinned girl thought to herself.

Mira, the older girl, responded to Tamah's attempt at de-escalation by circling around the smaller girl.  With a quick motion, she shot her foot forward, instantly destroying Tamah's sandcastle.  'That'll teach the brat,' Mira thought to herself smugly, walking away with a practiced swagger.

Tamah looked in anger at the remains of the castle.  She had worked so hard on it, and now some stupid bully had destroyed it.  'Mommy'll never know...'

Mira barely heard the little girl snap her fingers before she suddenly blacked out.

"Ya know, if you weren't such a big stupid meanie doodoo-head, I wouldn't've had to do this to you."  Mira woozily regained her vision as the voice of the little girl rang out around her.  If she was able, she would've taught the kid a lesson, but she suddenly realized she couldn't actually move.  She couldn't even blink, let alone yell at her would-be victim.

Tamah knew where on the newly-repaired sandcastle the bully's vision was coming from, so she stepped over to that side.  She decided that she wouldn't even kneel down to the transformed girl's new eye level; she didn't deserve to gaze on her architect's face.

Mira saw the other girl's feet enter her vision, rather horrified at how large the little girl's feet seemed to be.  She was almost in middle school; why was this little preschooler so much bigger than her all of a sudden?  And why couldn't she move?!

"I don't know what your name was," Tamah began, her hands resting on her hips in a stance not unlike her attempted bully's earlier, "but it doesn't matter anymore.  You're my sandcastle now, and that's all you'll be until I leave with my Mommy.  I don't know what'll happen to you after that, but I'm not turning you back.  Serves you right, meanie."  With that, she went to the other side of the shaped mound of sand, and dropped back down to her knees to continue decorating.

"Tamah, it's time to go home!" her mother yelled out, already cutting Tamah's beach day short.  She dropped the borrowed buckets by the sandcastle and ran off with a quick "Coming, Mommy!", leaving her sandcastle to it's fate.

Mira began panicking as the only person she knew of who could fix this ran off without a word to her.  She now knew she was nothing but a sandcastle, the buckets near her giving her a clue as to what exactly she looked like.  The former girl could feel every individual grain of sand that made up her body, the gentle sea breeze occasionally carrying a few away.  She was rather disturbed to discover that she could even feel the pieces that separated from her.

Even worse to Mira was the fact that her vision was locked in one direction, facing the ocean a few feet away.  It wasn't the unseen beachgoers behind her that worried her; it was the slowly rising ocean.  The tide was coming in, and she'd had her fair share of sand creations wash away at this beach.  Would that be her fate, too?

She could still hear the bustle of the beachgoers, wishing she was still one of them.  But no, she HAD to pick on the one person on the beach who happened to somehow have magic powers.  If she hadn't tried to bully that little girl, she'd be heading home with her parents instead of staring unendingly at the slowly encroaching ocean.

Two hours later, and Mira noticed that the sounds behind her had become slightly quieter.  She would've wondered why, but she already knew the reason.  The beachgoers had gotten further away because of the tide coming in, a fact she was all too aware of.  The ocean water had started lapping up against her base, taking even more grains of her body away.  She felt as the lost pieces were washed into the ocean, eventually settling on the seabed.

Another hour went by, and the tide was at it's highest.  Mira was completely surrounded by water now, and she felt as more and more of her increasingly pathetic form was washed away.  She should be heading home to take a quick shower to wash off the ocean salt before supper.  Instead, she was a small sandcastle being washed away by the sea, a process that was speeding up.  If she hadn't tried to bully a little girl just trying to have fun at the beach, she wouldn't be in this situation.

Mira discovered that she could now focus her vision on any piece of her body, but most of the grains in the ocean had already been buried by the rest of the sand she was now part of.  With a newfound resignation, she accepted that she would eventually be entirely mixed in with the seabed, scattered in her thousands of individual grains across the ocean.

As a particularly strong wave washed over her, the last thing she heard before her last remnants were swept away was the sound of a grown woman yelling, "Mira, where are you?!"  She wished she could answer her mother, but as her grains drifted in the turbulent water, she knew her life as a human girl was gone for good.  She was one with the seabed now, and would remain that way for millennia to come.

A Family Bugged

  It should've been a perfectly normal day at Wal-Mart for the Harper family.  Unfortunately for them, they happened to be in front of the dairy section as the impatient witch walked to the same area.  She didn't give any warning; she simply snapped her fingers as Jessie, the mother, turned to look in her direction.  In an instant, the biracial family vanished into thin air, suddenly teleported to completely different places in their new, horrific forms.

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

Joshua, the patriarch of the family, found himself in a smelly garbage can amongst dozens of houseflies.  His vision was fractured into hundreds of separate sections, yet his brain somehow helped him make sense of everything.  He could instinctively walk around on his six spindly legs, and a sudden gust of wind from the lid being opened motivated his wings into action.  In confusion, he managed to fly out of the garbage can, finding himself in a truly gigantic kitchen.  He clumsily flew around, exploring the unfamiliar house he now found himself in.

Having flown through a random door, Joshua found himself in a bedroom highlighted by bright pink walls.  He saw a mirror attached to a closet door, and headed in it's direction.  He had a strong idea of what had happened to him, but he wanted confirmation.  Sure enough, reflected in the huge mirror's surface was a tiny housefly, no different from the dozens still trapped in the kitchen garbage can he woke up in.

Instinct drove him to fly back to the kitchen, finding himself back in the disgusting garbage can with his new brethren.  With a mental sigh, Joshua stuck his proboscis into a piece of rotting apple, gorging his gross fly body on what would turn out to be a delicacy in his new life.  Absentmindedly, he wondered if his wife and sons were okay.

Two weeks later, the man-turned-fly landed on a vast expanse of blue after a meal of rotting banana.  An unholy noise boomed around him, scrambling his senses.  His hearing was no longer attuned to human speech, so he could never have known that the little girl whose jean skirt he had unknowingly landed on had spoken up, her hand raised over his tiny, fragile body.  "Hang on sis, a stupid fly just landed on my skirt.  Just a second..."

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

Jessie woke up in an unfamiliar forested landscape, gargantuan to her new perspective.  Resting on the vast green expanse of a single leaf in the Amazon, her new instincts led her to spread her newfound wings to take flight.  Her fragmented vision let her see the lush jungle around her, and she took in her new body as best as she could.  She was met with long, spindly legs connected to an abdomen that stretched behind her.  She extended her new, unwanted proboscis, sensing that it would double as a needle to pierce an unsuspecting animal's skin.

A scent filled the air, unfamiliar to the woman but delectable to her new insect brain.  Indulging her new instincts, she clumsily buzzed to a nearby tapir that completely dwarfed her.  The continental animal barely noticed as she landed, pierced it's skin, then began feasting on it's blood.  Jessie was disgusted that she had settled into the routine of a simple mosquito so quickly, but she didn't really see a way out of it.  After she had her fill, she took off once again.  Her senses had picked up the pheromones of a male, and while she wanted to remain loyal to her husband, she supposed she would never see him again anyway.

It was only a few days later, after she had laid a clutch of eggs to continue her new bloodline, that she noticed a group of tourists walking through her new home.  Jessie's instincts led her to take the risk of targeting one of them, a particularly sweaty man who could clearly do with cutting back on his eating.  She knew it would be a quick, easy and large meal, so she landed gingerly on his exposed forearm.  The transformed mosquito had hardly begun drinking when the man reacted suddenly and violently to her presence.  "Son of a... I hate these damn bugs.  Can't wait to get back to the hotel..."

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

Calvin, the 9-year-old elder son, came to in darkness, his new vision letting him see the multitudes of ants he would now call his colony.  While his other transformed family members retained some level of control over their new bodies' actions, Calvin found himself unable to resist his new brain's programming.  He was effectively a slave to the pheromones that told his body what to do.

Calvin's days would consist of a pretty regular routine.  He would either find food for the colony, care for his queen's eggs, or help defend the colony from invaders.  Luckily for the transformed boy, he wasn't required to do the latter task very often, as he was only a worker ant.  The threat of titanic humans was non-existent, as he had been transported to the middle of a small forest in Washington.  He simply acted as a passenger in his own insect body, wishing he could've at least said goodbye to his family.

Months later, he was confined underground under a thick blanket of snow.  The colony would hunker down for the winter, waiting for the spring thaw.  Calvin unwillingly complied with the unspoken order from his queen, along with the hundreds of other ants in the sprawling network of tiny tunnels he now called home.

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

Finally, 7-year-old Henry found himself in a completely alien landscape of branch-sized strands of hair and skin flakes bigger than his own foreign body.  He clung for dear life to one of them, trying to come to terms with his unfamiliar feeling body.  His vision seemed to be mostly confined to his sides, although he could see at least a little bit in front.  Instead of a human mouth, he had clear pincers, perfect for biting into this planet-sized human's scalp.  To his sides, six translucent insectoid legs clung to the huge strand of hair, aided by little hooks on the ends.  He felt his abdomen stretch behind him, and the fairly intelligent boy put the pieces together.

He's had head lice before, and now he seemed to have been transformed into one.  Who had done this to him, and why, was unknown to him, and he was left wondering what he had done to deserve this fate.  He also wondered where his family was, and found himself at least curious as to whose head of hair he had woken up in.

Driven by instinct, he reluctantly climbed down the strand of hair, ambling around the person's scalp on his insectoid legs.  Henry's pincers dug into the layer of dead skin, dissolving some of it so he could digest it more easily.  It wasn't exactly the best thing he had ever tasted, but his new senses seemed to enjoy it.  As he fed, he sensed a disturbance somewhere else, reacting to either his presence or that of another louse.  The hair around him began swaying violently as he heard the distorted sound of a head being scratched.

Henry considered himself lucky that the human hadn't pinpointed his location, but he knew it was only a matter of time before he was discovered.

Two days later, the little blonde girl had been sent home from 1st Grade because of her newly discovered head lice.  Her mother helped her take a shower, massaging a lather of medicated shampoo into her hair.  As it was rinsed out, a single unassuming transformed louse, unseen by either galaxy-sized human, found himself being washed down the drain...

Twisted Wishes: Anonymous Alcohol

  It was a perfectly normal summer day when the young man found the lamp.  22-year-old Justice was trying to gather enough loose change for another case of beer to satiate his addiction.  His family had kicked him out of their house after his alcoholism got him fired from yet another job, and he was staying with a friend who was growing tired of the free-loader.  The friend had told Justice that if he wanted more beer, he would have to buy it himself.  This is what led the young man's dark-skinned hand to brush against the shiny black metal of the Arabian lamp hidden in the bushes.

Justice was definitely NOT expecting to be presented with the grey-skinned genie he suddenly found floating before him.  Not being the greatest judge of character, he was ecstatic when the obviously sinister genie offered him a wish.  He knew exactly what he wanted.

First of all, he wanted more beer, and easier access to it.  Second, he wanted a new family.  His mother was fine, but he saw his father as an overly strict killjoy who wanted nothing more than to deprive his son of the fun-giving beverage Justice loved so much.  And that little brother of his... Niall was a hyperactive little 7-year-old who Justice thought was the most annoying little prick in existence.  Always screaming around in the morning while Justice recovered from his daily hangover and making his headache worse.

Obviously, the young adult's biases drowned out the truth.  His mother had been his enabler, always going against her husband's wish to help Justice get over his addiction.  And Niall was just a little boy being a little boy, wishing he could be closer to his big brother who kept pushing him away.

With that, Justice made his wishes, ignoring the fact that the genie had only offered him one.  He wished for more beer, then asked for a new family, adding in a request for punishment against his father and little brother.

The evil genie considered Justice's wishes.  Sure, he had only offered one wish, but it sounded like he could have a lot of fun with this guy and his unsuspecting family.  With a snap and a flash, the genie and African-American man disappeared.

Justice would wake up in his new bedroom, looking at himself and finding white skin in place of his old dark brown.  He was now part of a mixed-race family, having taken a lot more after his new Caucasian father.  Now named Justin to reflect his new race, he found his new family to be a lot more accepting of his addiction, his mother no longer held back by the husband that no longer existed.  He was even an only child, his annoying little brother having been taken out of the picture.  In fact, it was as if Niall and their old father had never existed in the first place.

Heading out with his new family to a party at the park, the new Justin reached into the fridge to pull out a few beers to add to the cooler.  Included in his packing was a perfectly unassuming can of Bud Light, no different from any other if not for the two unfortunate souls contained within.  Unbeknownst to Justin, his old father Beau and little brother Niall hadn't simply ceased existing.

Niall and Beau regained consciousness in frigid darkness.  Immediately the 7-year-old Niall started panicking, with his father trying his best to comfort him while Beau himself had no clue what was going on.  Neither could move a muscle, and they didn't feel like they had muscles to move.  The boy complained about a weird bubbling feeling, while the adult felt a fizzy liquid inside him.  They couldn't deduce what had happened, since they were trapped in pitch darkness.  The father-son duo simply sat motionless until something happened, trying to talk about anything other than their current situation to keep each other company.

They spent several days in darkness, only being interrupted by dim light a few times a day.  Finally, Beau was bathed in light after an unholy tearing noise made his surroundings fall away like a wall being felled.  Before he could make any sense of what was going on, a gigantic light-skinned hand reached down and wrapped itself around his body.  He rocketed into the air, Niall crying out as he felt his body turning in on itself.  Beau felt the liquid inside him slosh around, and he realized that the liquid and his son were one and the same.  They hadn't just been teleported; they had been transformed.  But what exactly were they?

That question would answered quite quickly, as the duo was carelessly dropped into an even colder container than the fridge they had just been taken out of.  While Niall complained about the sudden impact jostling his formless body around, Beau looked around at the ice cubes and cans of beer around him, realizing that he probably wasn't any different.  More cans were dropped into the ice-filled cooler, one landing on top of Beau before rolling off, resting in the ice next to him.  He was a blue Bud Light can, and Niall was the beer inside him.  No way could he tell his son what they had turned into.  The cooler's lid slammed down, leaving him in darkness once again.

They weren't left motionless, however.  The tell-tale jostling told him the cooler was being lifted, then he felt the impact of being det down somewhere.  A mighty roaring filled the air, muffled by the container they were trapped in, then the vibrations of a moving vehicle sent Niall into a constant state of being roiled around inside his father's flimsy metal body.

The vibrations came to a stop after a bumpy lead up, and the vehicle the cooler was in came to a stop.  Their prison was lifted once again, only to be set down seconds later.  Finally, the lid was lifted and Beau was bathed in light.  A hand reached down to grab a can of beer, luckily missing the transformed father and son.  That luck wasn't to last, as another hand wrapped around him and lifted him into the air.  Being able to see his captor at long last, Beau couldn't believe what he was seeing.

The young man may have been Caucasian, but he could identify the tell-tale facial features of his adult son anywhere.  Justice had been transformed as well, albeit getting infinitely luckier than Beau and Niall.  He apparently had a new name too, as the familiar sound of Beau's former wife called out to 'Justin' to throw her a beer as well.  The young man obliged, bending down to grab another can and tossing it haphazardly in his mother's direction and out of Beau's sight.  The transformed father watched as his former son grabbed a clear plastic cup from a stack on a nearby table.  Justin set it down right side up, setting Beau next to it.  He watched the giant hand reach above him, then felt it grab what felt like his nose.

With a sudden wrenching, the beer can's tab was pulled away from the top, forcing Beau's mouth to unseal and open.  The sound of the can being opened rang through the father's non-existent ears, and the sharp pain of the metal separating passed quickly.  Niall, on the other hand, could suddenly see through the hole above him, and screamed when he saw the young man's face looming overhead.

Justin's hand wrapped around Beau once again, lifting him over the cup and tipped him slightly to one side.  He felt as Niall's frothy, liquid body was poured slowly into the new receptacle, his son freaking out the whole time.  By now the boy had caught a glimpse of the can he was being poured out of, seeing the Bud Light logo printed across his dad's new form, so he now knew exactly what he had become.  His last drops flowed out of his father, his entire alcoholic form resting in the clear cup with a layer of white foam partially blocking his view.  The boy then watched the empty can that was once his father carelessly dropped to the ground.

Beau watched in horror as Justin's shoe was raised over him, then suddenly plummet to the ground.  With a sickening, painful crunch, his metal body crinkled into itself, his top bent in an unnatural feeling fashion.  Small holes formed at his new creases, leaving him a pathetic-looking crushed beer can in the middle of a park.  The shoe raised from his broken body, and his former son went on with the party, putting the can out of his mind.

Niall watched as the giant man's hand wrapped around the cup he was confined to, then felt as his body conformed to the now tipping container.  He saw the gargantuan head fill his vision, then the cup came to a stop.  It was tipped further, and the boy felt his body flowing into the awaiting mouth.  He flowed across the man's tongue, then began being pulled down his pitch-black throat with a deafening gulping sound.  Three swallows later, the cup was tipped away from the man's mouth, Niall's body now divided into two portions.  On the one hand, he could feel himself sloshing around in the plastic cup, his body slowly outgassing as his froth layer diminished.  On the other hand, his body was also mixed into the man's gastric acids inside his stomach, his body quickly warming up from the intense body heat.

It took about three minutes for the remaining beer to be ingested by Justin, Niall having finally heard his drinker's name after the second set of swallows.  His remaining portion travelled the same journey the rest of him had, joining the rest in the giant man's stomach.  He took what comfort he could in his body's warming while he began travelling through the digestive system, eventually collecting in the man's bladder having gone through a different kind of transformation.

It would be several days before Beau was finally found by a park cleaner.  His crushed body was picked up and thrown into a recycling bin with other crushed cans not unlike himself.  He would eventually be melted down in a recycling plant, his consciousness split across several new metal products.  Shortly afterward, he made the decision to let his shattered mind rest, and ceased trying to think altogether.

Niall made the final portion of his trip through the man's body the next day, exiting in a thin stream through the urethra before splashing into the toilet water below.  His liquid body cooled rapidly, mixing with the other liquid along with the portion of Justin's urine that didn't contain the boy's consciousness.  Niall watched as the man zipped up his pants and reached for the out of view button on top of the toilet.  His body and vision was pulled into a swirl, and he was flushed down the drain like the waste liquid he now was.

He had given up on screaming for help the day before, realizing it wasn't worth it anymore.  No one could hear him anyway.  Niall travelled through the sewage treatment plant, his body filtered of any contaminants, and was then shot out of a pipe into a large body of water.  Someday in the future he'll end up on the surface, where his body will evaporate to join the water cycle.  Split into so many different places, he too will choose to cease thinking, simply existing in his new forms.

At least Justin got his wish.

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.

----------

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...

A Familial Outfit 1

 

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.

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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...

TF Virus 4

  Continued from Part 3

It took Mom and I several long minutes to find William's new form the next morning.  He kept calling out to us to give hints, but he was so small that his point of view just wasn't helpful to us.  "I think I'm in my shirt, so just shake me out!" he finally piped up, getting annoyed at the giants not being able to find him.  Mom finally lifted the empty t-shirt, still slightly warm from being worn by a living, breathing human child a few hours before, and we watched in silent horror as a single piece of elbow macaroni rolled out of the bottom.  there was no way he randomly hid a piece of pasta in his shirt the night before, so...

"Is that you, William?" I nervously asked after a long, uncomfortable silence.  "You just... can't be a piece of - "

"Put me in the box."  The boy's voice suddenly interrupted me, saying the most inconceivable sentence Mom and I could've imagined as matter-of-factly as if he was telling us the sky was blue.  Why would William want to be thrown into a box, and what box was he talking about?  He couldn't mean - 

"We're not gonna do that, Willie," Mom stated flatly.  "You're my son, not a piece of food."

"Look at me, Mom," William said from his tiny form.  "I think you're more than a little wrong about that.  Put me in the box with the other macaroni."

Oh, THAT'S what he meant?!  I suddenly felt a lurching in my stomach.  "Mama, I think I'm gonna be sick..."  I dashed to the bathroom as quickly as I could, leaving Mom to try to reason with my little brother while I vacated my stomach of the previous night's meal.  Not even bothering to clean up after myself, I found myself curled up on the bathroom floor.

I was vaguely aware of Mom walking by twice, once in each direction.  I thought I heard Dad and Evelyn's voices at some point, but I barely cared.  My loving, caring little brother who was taller than me was reduced to a noodle, and I wasn't taking the news very well.  My tears had formed a small puddle on the bathroom floor by the time Mom came in to check on me.

Dad and Evelyn had helped William convince Mom to do what he wanted.  They knew that transformed objects mostly wanted to be used for their form's purpose, and transformed food was no different.  William had somehow figured out what he was going to turn into beforehand, and had prepared himself for what that would entail.  He wanted to be added to the rest of the elbow macaroni, after which he would stop talking at all.  He didn't want us to know when 'it' happened.  The combined efforts of a pair of shorts, a swimsuit and a noodle ended in Mom bowing to her former son's wishes.  When Mom entered the bathroom to check on me afterward, she held me in her arms as she brought me to the living room, where we stayed for most of the rest of the day in near silence.

With William silent in a box of macaroni, the house became quiet.  The next few days were spent checking me in with a pediatric therapist who knew about the Virus, and Mom seeing a therapist herself.  We met more Virus victims in the meantime, discovering that others were starting to "just know" what they were going to turn into beforehand, just like William.

This new development had proven especially useful for one 4-year-old girl and her family, since she knew she was about to turn into an entire house.  They let the city know about it the day before she was due to transform, and they set up a vacant lot for little Alaiya to become a brand new house.  An African-American lesbian couple moved in a few days later, the former little girl becoming a home.

A month later, Mom decided it was time.  Around suppertime, I walked into the kitchen just in time to see her pouring our elbow macaroni into a pot of boiling water.  I immediately knew what that meant.  What was William feeling in that moment, tumbling with the other identical pieces of pasta into the scalding liquid?  Feeling his body slowly soak up the water and soften while being stirred around in the seemingly gigantic pot?  He was still staying silent while he was being cooked, so I tried to put his inevitable fate out of my mind for the time being, and went back to my room to play with my dolls.

I paused to consider one in particular, a Barbie made to look Japanese that used to be a 13-year-old boy.  He had been passed on to me after his little sister transformed into an earthworm, and he was another Virus victim who chose to remain silent.  Was this really the future for these unlucky transformees?  To be used for their new purpose, willingly denying their own former humanity?  I had really gotten lucky with my transformation, only reducing in age and changing race.

I was shaken out of my thoughts by Mom yelling for me.  "Wren, supper's ready!" she called, and I set down the sentient doll to run out to the dining room.

I considered the meal set out before me.  Mom had made goulash, and I was fully aware that William was in there somewhere.  What was that like?  Being coated in tomato sauce and mixed in with cooked hamburger and chopped tomatoes, then scooped up into a ladle and dropped onto a plate?  I sat at the table, still unsure how I felt about the situation.  William was still quiet, and I realized he was probably planning on staying that way.

Mom was studying my reactions, and finally said something.  "Please eat, Wren," she said simply, knowing that I hadn't been eating well lately due to my now officially diagnosed depression.  Wanting to get it over with, I put my thoughts of my former brother out of my mind, and slowly ate the well-made goulash in front of me.

William never made a single noise.

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

Another year went by.  We never found out which one of us had eaten the noodle that was once William, and we didn't particularly want to know.  His nutrients had been absorbed and used by one of us, and the rest of his form would exist in the sewer for the foreseeable future.  Meanwhile, life moved on.

Remember the couple I mentioned earlier?  It was decided that I should spend time around them, in preparation for my mother's inevitable transformation.  It was highly unlikely she would still be able to look after me, so the couple was fully willing and prepared to adopt me.  As it turned out, I loved spending time with them.  They taught me more about my new culture, and we quickly bonded over it.  Eventually I came to refer to them as bonus mothers, not fully realizing how soon that would come true.

She never told me exactly what she was going to turn into; only that she definitely knew.  As she succumbed to the virus that summer, the legal process for Amara and Makenna to adopt me was finalized, and I became their daughter.  The night my former mother was due to transform, it was strongly suggested that she share a bed with me.  I wouldn't know why until the next morning, but for the time being, I was just glad to spend one last night with the last remaining member of my old family.