Twisted Wishes: Christmas Self-Gifting

  Quincy and Clara were at a loss.  The two had drawn names for Christmas with their family, and they each got a younger cousin.  Unfortunately, Quincy had drawn the name Flora, and Clara got Oliver.  They wanted nothing more than to trade names, but alas, the ritual of name-drawing was binding.  They had to come up with present ideas for the opposite gender, and neither had any clue what their rarely-seen cousins would want.

It was December 23rd when it happened.  The siblings were walking to the local supermarket to see if they could find anything that caught their eyes, when something caught Quincy's eyes.  A glint coming from the snowy bank prompted the 22-year-old to start digging through the snow, eventually uncovering the slightly ice-encrusted lamp.  Made of black metal with fancy red accents, Quincy and Clara weren't sure if they had ever seen something so expensive-looking.

As Quincy rubbed some of the ice off, the two were rather shocked to see a muscular gray-skinned man manifest in front of them.  Easily double the height of Quincy and truly towering over his 19-year-old sister, the genie offered them one single wish.  Not one for each, but one wish for both of them.

After some thought and discussion between the siblings, they decided to wish for something rather simple:  to know what Flora and Oliver wanted for Christmas.  They were supposed to get the presents themselves after all, and wouldn't it be nice if they could just walk straight to the areas of the store where the currently-unknown items were kept?

The genie thought to himself.  How would he twist these young adults' words against them?  After a few seconds, he came to a decision.  He smiled wickedly, said a decidedly sinister 'Wish granted,' and snapped his fingers.  With a flash of light, Quincy and Clara blinked out of existence, completely written out of reality.  Smirking to himself, Siraj returned to his lamp, teleporting elsewhere to interfere in more worthless mortals' lives.

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Quincy woke up in darkness.  The first thing he noticed was that his body felt... weird.  His limbs felt longer and thinner than they should be, and he seemed to be a lot skinnier overall.  It wasn't like he needed to lose weight before, but now he felt absolutely emaciated.  Not to mention the scratchy feeling of hair against his back, longer than he had ever let it grow.  And what was the weird feeling on his chest?

The next thing he noticed was that he couldn't move.  He couldn't budge any of his muscles a single inch.  He wasn't breathing at all, and it didn't even feel like his heart was beating.  Even if he could move, he wouldn't be able to go anywhere anyway, since he could feel something wrapped around various parts of his body.  Wrists, ankles, neck, impossibly thin waist... all restrained for no apparent reason with his complete immobility.  There was also something behind him that he seemed to be lying on, something that felt weirdly like the smooth cardboard you would find as toy packaging.

Quincy laid there in darkness and silence for what felt like weeks.  Left with only his own thoughts and absolutely no sensory stimulation, his mind wandered to the wish he had made.  How was he supposed to find out what Flora wanted for Christmas if he couldn't even move?  Was he even himself anymore?  He found himself wishing that something, anything, would happen to free him from the suffocating darkness that made up his world.

Finally, something happened.  He was still trapped in darkness with no movement, but he could hear muffled voices somewhere.  Whatever was blocking his vision was obstructing his hearing as well, but at least something was reminding him that he still existed.  He wasn't so sure he could call himself alive, though...

What little bits of the far-off conversation he could pick up told him it was now Christmas Day.  It was only two days later, not weeks like he felt it should've been.  He could hear a woman's voice that he couldn't place, and a much higher-pitched voice that sounded vaguely familiar.  It reminded him a bit of Clara's voice when she was a kid, which made him wonder where his little sister was.  He had always been fiercely protective of his younger sibling, and not knowing how she was doing right now was torturous for him.  Quincy could only hope she was okay.

Finally, he heard a clue.  The woman's muffled voice was just clear enough for him to understand the name Flora.  Was he in his aunt and cousin's house?  How did he get here?  Did the genie do this to him?  And why couldn't he move?!  Quincy wanted nothing more than to shout out to his aunt for help, but deep down he already knew it was pointless.  He couldn't move or breathe; what made him think he could still talk?

At long last, something happened.  The high-pitched voice that likely belonged to Flora got significantly closer, louder and clearer.  She sounded really excited about something near him...  Then, with no warning, Quincy heard a loud crinkling sound accompanied by the slight crack of thin plastic bending.  His world suddenly went tumbling as his prison was lifted by an unseen force.  The movement of his surroundings combined with his complete blindness would've made him sick to his stomach if he still thought he had one.

An unbearably loud ripping noise rang through his ears, and light finally flooded his eyes.  As the gigantic hand left his view, many of Quincy's unheard questions were answered.  The giant hand tearing away the wrapping paper that had blinded him was attached to his little cousin Flora, looming over his obviously shrunken form.  The little girl could hardly be described as such, big enough to easily hold him in her hand.  She seemed excited to see her big cousin, even though he could already tell she didn't see him as such right now.

At last, with an exclamation from Flora about how much she loved her new Barbie doll, Quincy's remaining questions were finally answered.  He now knew what the girl wanted, and he was sure Clara probably found out what Oliver wanted in a similarly horrifying way.  The skinnier limbs, impossibly thin waist, scratchy hair against his back, the weird feeling on his chest... even the restraints around his wrists and ankles along with the cardboard to his back and the weird glare on the clear plastic in front of him.  He had been transformed into the Barbie doll that Flora got for Christmas.

Flora's excitability certainly didn't make Quincy's vision stable, as he was shaken to and fro while the titanic child tried to pry open the packaging that isolated him from the outside world.  With the mighty tearing of the cardboard backing being separated from the plastic, he was surrounded by fresher air as he was turned toward the floor.  He could only stare at the light cream-colored plush carpet below as he felt the unseen ties being undone behind the cardboard.  The one around his left wrist came loose first, followed by the right.  The process was repeated with the ties around his ankles, and he started shifting against his will.  His waist was freed next, and Quincy was left with the uncomfortable - but thankfully not painful - sensation of hanging from the cardboard by his neck.

By now, Quincy's head was being tilted slightly to the point that he could start taking in his new form.  He couldn't see much, but the yellow plastic sandals adorning his similarly-plastic feet had entered his view, along with a tiny amount of yellow fabric right at the bottom of his field of vision.  A few slightly wavy strands of long brown hair hung over his unmoving left eye.  The giant hand of Flora also entered his vision, wrapping around his plastic body as the tie around his neck was finally loosened.

Quincy never thought he would ever be thankful for a giant hand wrapped around his torso, but the cardboard backing falling away made him grateful to the giant girl anyway.  He was turned toward his cousin, and he was suddenly thrust against her chest as she hugged her new doll and thanked her parents for the present.  They reminded her that she still had more presents, and she set her big cousin face-up on the floor next to her.  With Flora being quickly distracted by the excitement of other Christmas gifts, Quincy was left alone for a few minutes.

With his slightly turned head, Quincy took in the gargantuan form of his little cousin-turned-owner.  How was it possible for someone who was barely four feet tall to be so much bigger than him?  Even her forearm was about the same length as his entire new, unwanted body.  He realized that he was entirely at the mercy of a girl who could easily snap his new limbs off, or even his head if she wanted.  Quincy was completely powerless in this new form, and it was all because of that stupid genie!  He could only hope that Flora would be a gentle owner.

Being carried into Flora's bedroom was certainly disorienting for Quincy, being held by the waist and swung back and forth at the girl's side.  With a quick motion, he was clipped onto a stand near her child-sized vanity, watching as his new owner found a doll-sized hairbrush.  As Flora brushed his artificial hair, he took in his full reflection in the nearby mirror.  The mirror image of a mere Barbie doll.

He had long, skinny arms and feminine legs.  They were attached to his torso with painfully obvious joints, the balled shoulder joints allowing for easy posing.  His narrow shoulders led down to plastic lumps that passed as breasts, then to the impossibly thin waist that flared out into fairly wide hips.  The pelvic region was hidden from his view, but he knew it would be entirely featureless, aside from the slight definition of his new rear.  His new hyper-feminine outline was utterly foreign to the former young man, yet he couldn't deny that it was definitely his own.

The light tan of his plastic skin was adorned by a yellow, pink and purple tie-dye bikini, along with the high-heeled yellow sandals that he saw earlier adorning his permanently pointed feet.  A pair of yellow goggles was clipped loosely to the top of his head, barely hanging on in the mass of wavy brown hair sprouting out of his hollow head.  Most disturbing of all was his new face staring back at him.  The green eyes surrounded by painted-on eyelashes, eyebrows and pink eye shadow was second only to the permanent vacant smile adorned with light pink lipstick that could never be removed.  That face certainly didn't reflect the emotions Quincy was feeling, knowing that the blank, pleasant stare would be the only expression he would ever have.

His unwanted new hair finally straightened to his new owner's liking, he was unclipped from the stand and carried away by Flora.  Quincy was set face-up on top of her dresser, and he could only listen as she walked away to play with some of her other presents.  Was this really his life now?  Completely at the whim of the child who now owned him?  Would she be a gentle owner, or would damage from rougher playtime take its toll on his plastic body?  And most importantly for him right now, where was his sister?  He supposed she was probably with Oliver right now, if their wish was granted the same twisted way for both of them.

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Clara woke up in darkness.  Her fear of the dark kicked in immediately, and she tried to struggle, to shout out for help.  Unfortunately for her, she quickly realized that none of that was actually going to happen.  Not only couldn't she budge an inch, or utter even the quietest squeak, but it didn't feel like she was even breathing.  Panic began setting in as she started realizing just how weird her current situation really was.

She wasn't sure how it was possible, but she realized she didn't exactly feel human anymore.  It felt like her head and torso were part of one solid mass, and her pelvis, arms and legs were all somehow tucked into each other and inside her torso, with a little bit of her legs sticking out.  She even felt like her arms were combined into one piece, as were her legs.  Her arms weren't connected to her torso, instead being sandwiched between her pelvis and legs.  What the hell had happened to her, and why were her apparently severed body parts so jumbled together and weird-feeling?

Taking over her assumed body horror in her mind was the unbearable silence around her.  The quiet, combined with the pitch-black darkness, felt suffocating to the already-panicked young woman.  She always felt that her older brother was a bit overprotective, but at this moment she would've given anything to have him by her side.  Where was Quincy when she really needed him?

Realizing she wasn't getting any answers, she felt her panic begin to subside.  She tried to gather as much information about her surroundings as she could.  Clara could feel something wrapped loosely around her torso, almost like a strip of cardboard that was holding her against a flat sheet of the same material.  And... aside from the darkness and silence, that was about it.  She wanted to figure out more about her new situation, but there just wasn't enough to feel when her vision and hearing had been deemed useless.

An indeterminate time later, she finally experienced sensation other than feeling.  There were muffled voices somewhere far above her, a woman and what sounded like a small child.  Clara tried to shout out for help, even though she knew by now that they were highly unlikely to hear her pleas.  She was no longer expecting an answer.

Imagine Clara's surprise when another voice piped up, clear as day.  It seemed like the new voice was inside her mind, unheard by the other unseen people.  "Hello?  Is someone else there?" inquired the voice of another young woman, possibly a girl at the tail end of her teenage years.  Clara called out to her new friend, asking what was going on.

The voice identified herself as Tanya, a girl who would've turned 18 recently if she was still human.  Asked by Clara what she meant, Tanya explained that she had been transformed into a pair of boys' underwear about six months ago by a genie from a lamp.  She was being worn right now, unseen under her owner's red plaid pajama pants.  Clara asked if the lamp was red and black with a gray muscular genie, and Tanya confirmed that it must have been the same genie.

"Hey, Ollie just sat down," Tanya explained to her newfound friend.  "I have a hunch that you're one of his Christmas presents.  I wish I could tell you exactly what you are when he unwraps you, but I'm trapped in the dark just like you.  Even if there's a little bit of light filtering through his pants...  Get ready; the light's gonna be blinding after a night of complete darkness.  I'm used to it by now, but I bet you're not."

Clara wanted to ask Tanya why she seemed so relaxed, but she was interrupted before she could start by her world suddenly being put into motion.  Her pelvis, arms and legs all slid into, out of, and against each other as her entire existence was shaken violently while a now less muffled young boy's voice wondered what was inside his present.  The motion settled somewhat, but an ear-splitting tearing noise filled her likely no-longer-existing ears.  She guessed that the noise was from the boy tearing away wrapping paper from the present she had become.  Weirdly, she still didn't see any light come in.  She asked Tanya why that would be.

"I'd guess that you were put in a box at some point," Tanya explained as if what she was saying was the most normal thing a person could possibly say.  "You're probably something with a shape too awkward to wrap without one."

Clara very quickly discovered that her fellow transformee was right.  A lid was lifted away, light flooding her surroundings.  Tanya was right; the light streaming in was absolutely blinding.  It took a few seconds for her non-existent eyes to adjust, which was long enough for a hand to wrap itself around her pelvis section.  Finally able to see a bit better, she just managed to get a glimpse of the shoebox that had acted as her prison before her vision swung around to face her handler.

The boy would've been adorable if he wasn't so freaking huge.  He was definitely Caucasian, a medium smattering of freckles scattered across his face.  Short, jet-black hair framed the head of the ocean-blue-eyed 6-year-old.  He was dressed in a set of red-plaid pajamas, matching his mother's nightgown.  There was no father in sight; maybe the woman was a single mother?  Not like the mother was important to Clara right now, roughly handled by her little cousin as she was.

"Wow, Anakin's lightsaber!  Awesome!" the boy shouted excitedly, ear-piercing to the older cousin he unknowingly held in his right hand.  At least Clara finally knew what she had turned into, but the knowledge that she was a toy weapon made her nervous.

"Hey, Ollie's been asking for a toy lightsaber for a while!" Tanya said.  "I bet you're gonna be his favorite toy for a while.  He tends to hyper-fixate on things, and that thing right now is Star Wars."

"Thanks a lot, Tanya, that makes me feel so much better," Clara responded sarcastically.  She was glad that she still had someone to talk to, but why did her new friend have to be so nonchalant about the idea of being an inanimate object?  Was that what she was in for a few months down the line, too?  Would she also adapt to her new existence as a child's toy, let alone one built to be repeatedly swung around and slammed against other toys similar to herself?  Jeez, if she didn't know any better, Clara would say that Tanya even seemed happy to not be human anymore.  She certainly hoped that she would never stoop to that level of humiliation.

The strap of cardboard was removed from her torso, and Clara was lifted away from the cardboard packaging that had held her hostage.  Not that a six-year-old boy's hand was necessarily preferable.  With a disorienting flicking motion, the tubes she once called her pelvis, arms and legs smoothly slid into place, making up the blade portion of her new body.  A mirror on the wall on the other side of the living room gave her an idea of exactly what she looked like, the translucent blue 'blade' now extended out of the silver handle with black accents.

Her brother Quincy had been quite the Star Wars fan, and while she wasn't as big of a mega-fan as he was, Clara definitely wasn't a stranger to the series.  She easily recognized her new body as a toy version of the iconic Skywalker lightsaber.  More worrying was the realization of what exactly that meant.  Was being used in a play duel going to hurt?  She wasn't exactly looking forward to finding out.

After opening his other presents, Oliver was told by his mother to put his new toys away before they had breakfast.  The boy grabbed Clara's torso-turned-hilt and carried her to his bedroom.  She couldn't see much as one of Oliver's fingers had crossed her line of vision at the end of her hilt, but she could at least see the display board on his bedroom wall.  There was already a Darth Vader mask hanging from a hook, as well as TIE Fighter and Star Destroyer stickers dotted around the display.  She could just barely make out the glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to the ceiling before her new owner clipped her pelvis section onto the display, thankfully turning her sight line away from the wall.  The child then ran back out of his room to enjoy his breakfast, something the new lightsaber would never be able to do again.  Tanya's voice faded as her wearer dashed further away.

Clara was left in relative peace to ponder a single question:  Where was Quincy?  She could assume that he was probably turned into Flora's Christmas present, but she couldn't necessarily be sure.  She just hoped he was having an easier time than she was, and that he would lead a less rough life than she was bound to.

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Quincy knew it had been about a year since his transformation.  New Christmas presents drew Flora's attention away from him, and while he hated himself for thinking it, he wished they hadn't.  The former man had grown used to his life as a Barbie doll.  Hair brushing, new outfits, playful 'dates' with her only Ken doll, playdates with her friends and their own Barbies...  While everything was girly to the extreme, his mind had adapted.  Unfortunately, that meant he was starting to grow jealous of her other toys when she started paying more attention to them than him.

Over time, his hair had become increasingly unruly through repeated brushing and styling.  His right arm was bent slightly out of shape, and the paint on his lips was slowly fading.  Flora had been as gentle an owner as an eight-year-old girl could've been, but time was taking its toll.

Now, Quincy laid in an awkward position buried in Flora's toybox.  Most of it was filled with other Barbies, with a layer of doll clothing collecting on the bottom.  Not that he could see it, trapped in the darkness as he was.  He could just about make out the dark brown of an African-American Barbie's arm, and he could feel another doll's legs laying across his own, along with another's hair resting against his plastic abdomen.  Once a man, he was now just another Barbie to bring fleeting enjoyment to his owner.

He hadn't thought of Flora as anything other than his owner for a few months.  After all, he couldn't possibly consider her his cousin anymore.  She was human, and he wasn't.  Simple as that.  He no longer felt like he was intruding on her privacy, as he was simply another of her possessions now.  Why should he care that he lived in the girl's bedroom?  He lived where she wanted him to.  He saw what she wanted him to see.  He did what she wanted him to do.

There were a few things Quincy tried to hold onto as he tried to keep hold of his lost humanity.  His name was something he needed to keep reminding himself of, since Flora had given him the new name Sandra.  He kept running through other memories in his head so he couldn't forget who he used to be.  And he always made sure to think of his lost sister, even if her name had finally faded from his mind.

His efforts to keep his sanity were beginning to fail.  His tactic of running through memories wasn't working, as the number of those memories slowly shrank over time.  He had already forgotten the name of his sister, and even his own name was in danger of slipping.  He caught himself thinking of himself as Sandra on a regular basis, it being the only name he was referred by out loud.  Quincy could only do so much inside his own hollow head, and he was starting to wonder if it was even worth it anymore.  Maybe it would be better to let go, and let himself be nothing but the Barbie doll he now was.

For now, Sandra Quincy would try to hang on...

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Clara laid in silence on Oliver's bedroom floor as he opened this year's Christmas presents.  He had forgotten to put her back on the display she now called home after playing with her in the backyard the night before.  He and his friend had a blast dueling, and Clara had found a way to share their fun, even if the repeated impacts against Zeke's Obi-Wan lightsaber still hurt a bit.  She had mostly gotten used to it.

Clara had indeed become her former cousin's favorite toy, and that hadn't faded the slightest bit over the past year.  Her blade definitely had scratches, some of the paint on her hilt was worn away, and the sound effects her body produced were starting to malfunction.  The light inside her had been replaced once, the sensation of being taken apart and repaired not exactly pleasant for the transformed woman.  Having her batteries replaced was never a great feeling either, but she knew that each replenishment meant Oliver would play with her even more than usual for a few days.

She didn't even have the company of Tanya anymore.  Oliver had finally outgrown her in October, and the slightly stained, stretched-out pair of star-print underwear was thrown away without a second thought from her owner.  Once the bathroom garbage bag she suddenly called home was taken out, Clara never heard from her friend again.  Tanya had served her purpose.

Clara also never heard from her brother again, although she had forgotten his name a couple months prior.  She still wondered how he was doing, but she was sure he must have been just as content with his new life and owner as she was with hers.  Even now, her name was slipping from her mind, and she was fully prepared to let it happen.  The toy lightsaber that needed new batteries was ready to let go.  Maybe it would happen the next day, maybe next week, maybe months or years from now.  Only time would tell.

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.

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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.

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 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...

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!"

Twisted Wishes: Together Forever

  It was a perfectly normal day in mid-October when it happened.  I was hanging out with my girlfriend Lacey after a long day at our community college.  We were walking back to our dorm room when I noticed the lamp almost out of sight behind a tree, the red and black metal standing out against the surrounding greenery.  On a whim, I picked it up so I could have it appraised later.  It looked a bit dirty, so I tried to rub off some of the dirt.  Imagine our surprise and delight when the grey-skinned genie suddenly appeared before our eyes!

"Greetings, young mistresses," the genie began, the term 'mistresses' making the two of us giggle lightly to each other.  "You have done well to find my lamp.  I will grant you one wish."

"Wait, only one?" Lacey asked, confused that we weren't getting three wishes each.

"Yes, one," the genie replied, seemingly mildly annoyed.  "And that's one wish for both of you to make together.  I have been found my many recently, and I have not had the chance to recharge my powers."  To me, it looked like he was making up an excuse, but I wasn't going to question him.  Who knows what he could do to us if we pissed him off.

Lacey and I looked at each other, already knowing what our wish would be.  Our relationship was fairly secret, our respective families not being overly accepting of anything LGBTQ+.  My highly bigoted parents didn't even like the fact that I was friends with someone who wasn't white, so how would they react if they they found out I, their own daughter Scarlet, was dating a girl of Vietnamese descent?  Looking into each other's eyes, Lacey and I made our most heartfelt wish.

"We wish we could be together forever!" we said in perfect unison.  There was absolutely no way THAT wish could be taken the wrong way!

The genie looked thoughtful.  "Hmm... Out of curiosity, what are your names, mistresses?" he asked.

"Uh, Scarlet and Lacey?" I answered, suddenly nervous.  Why would he need to know our names to grant our wish?

He smiled, rather more sinister than I would have liked.  "What gorgeous names.  Makes my job a lot easier, too.  Hope you enjoy your new lives!"  He snapped his fingers, and everything went black.

"You'll certainly be together forever," his voice floated through our minds.  "You might not like what that entails..."

I woke up, but that didn't mean I could see anything.  In fact, it didn't feel like I opened my eyes at all.  Actually, did I even have eyes at all?  Why did my body feel so weird?  And where was Lacey?

'Ugh, what happened?' I heard my girlfriend's voice in my mind.  So we could communicate through telepathy now.  'Where am I?'

'Lacey!  Where are you?' I thought out to her.  'I can't move, and it's dark everywhere.'

'Scarlet!'  I could hear the relief in her voice, although still laced with panic.  'I can't see anything either, and... WHY AM I PARALYZED?!?'

'Would you quiet down Lacey?!  We're talking in our minds, you don't have to shout!'

'Sorry babe...' Lacey replied sincerely, her voice still wavering with fright.  Her anxiety wasn't going to make this easy on her.

'Alright Lace, let's focus,' I said, trying to sound comforting.  'Can you feel anything?  Maybe that'll give us some clues.'

'Umm... I guess there's something soft touching me... is it above or below me... I can't really tell... Fuck, my body feels so weird...'  Interestingly, what she was saying perfectly matched what I was feeling.  It was like we were in the exact same place.

'Okay, I'm feeling the same things, so we must be pretty close to each other,' I told her, knowing that knowledge would probably help her mental state.

'Also, I feel... flat?' she continued.  'Is that what this feeling is?  How would I know what feeling flat is like?  Don't answer that,' she quickly added, knowing full well I liked teasing her about her rather small chest.  Good, she's cracking jokes at least...

'Well, I feel flat too, whatever that means,' I said, just happy Lacey's mood seemed to be improving regardless of whatever potentially horrific situation we were in.

'AHHH!  WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?!?' Lacey screamed suddenly, reacting to the thumping noises somewhere near us, getting louder as they approached our location.  Her screaming continued as our location suddenly shifted, and light flooded into our eyes.  'WHY THE FUCKING GIANTESS AND she's kinda hot actually...'  Classic Lacey, freaking out about things before noticing an attractive person.  I couldn't see what she was seeing, but I definitely felt the enormous fingers grab my... leg?  Arm?  Fuck, I couldn't make heads or tails of my body, but the giant fingers lifted me out of what turned out to be an underwear drawer.  How was I small enough to fit inside a drawer, and how was Lacey apparently going through the exact same things I was while seeing a giant attractive woman?

Then my vision swung around, and a lot of things suddenly made more sense.  There she was, a gigantic Hispanic woman holding me by the... uh, appendage... and Lacey complained that her vision wasn't facing the giantess anymore.  It was clear to me now that Lacey and I weren't exactly human anymore, and we were somehow sharing a single form.  Our vision was on opposite sides of whatever we had been turned into, and judging by the thin red straps I saw in my peripheral, I finally figured out what we were.  I geared myself up to reveal the truth to my anxiety-riddled girlfriend turned bodymate.

'Lacey, would you stop screaming for a second?!' I said, perhaps louder than I wanted to as we suddenly sailed through the air, landing softly on a plush blanket on the giantess' bed.  'I figured out what's going on!'  Lacey finally quieted down, her vision likely trapped against the blanket as I watched the woman continue grabbing clothes from her dresser that we were trapped in less than a minute ago.  'The genie granted our wish by turning us into a fucking thong, and we're sharing a body so we'll be together forever.  I think my vision is in the back, and yours is in the front.'  Lacey was quiet, letting the information sink in.  I continued before she could start freaking out again, having witnessed a bra landing near us that would match us perfectly.  'We're a lacey scarlet thong, which is why he asked us our names.  This Hispanic giantess is our owner, and I don't think she's getting dressed for work...'  The only other thing our new owner had retrieved was a black pair of 5 inch heels, muttering something in Spanish I couldn't understand.

Lacey's screaming continued when our Latina goddess' fingers grabbed us by the sides, lifting us from the bed and lowering us toward the floor.  I decided there really wasn't anything I could do to comfort her anymore as one light tan foot stepped through our left leg hole, followed by the right.  We were suddenly rocketed up her smooth, recently shaved legs toward her crotch, and with a tug and a light snap, we were held in place by our owner's hips.  Now plastered against the foreign woman's ass and vagina, I found my vision quickly sinking between her ass cheeks.  Lacey's vision would be coming from the crotch area, so at least she could see more than I could.  Although, feeling the woman's obvious excitement soaking into the crotch panel, I wondered which of us actually had it worse.

My vision expanded a bit as our owner bent slightly to pick up our matching bra, then my sight was eclipsed by the massive tan cheeks once again as she straightened out.  I tried to tune out Lacey's wailing as I felt the giantess go through the motions of strapping the bra to her chest.  Unwilling to tell my girlfriend to shut up, I was allowed a fraction of a second of vision as the Latina stepped into the ridiculous-yet-sexy heels.  With a practiced sway, we were along for the ride as our wearer walked out of the room.  'WHERE THE FUCK ARE WE GOING?!?' Lacey's voice echoed in my head.

'Lacey, I don't know,' I snapped, suddenly silencing her screaming.  'My vision is being rubbed between this woman's ass cheeks, so you know a lot better than I do where we're going!'  I felt bad for snapping at her, but if we were going to be trapped together forever, I was NOT listening to her screaming for all eternity, no matter how much I loved her.  'Try to focus, and tell me what's happening.'

'Umm... we're out of her bedroom...' she started, obviously a lot more timid about talking to me now.  'It's hard to focus when my vision keeps tilting back and forth with every step she takes.  Damn it feels like she has a sexy walk; I just wish I wasn't a fucking scrap of fabric wrapped around her hips so I could - '

'LACEY!' I interrupted.  Even as we were, transformed into a sexy piece of lingerie, my girlfriend was horny as hell.

'Sorry, Scar...' Lacey continued.  'Uh... Looks like we're in a living room?  There's a bunch of decorative signs everywhere, but I think they're all written in Spanish, so I don't know what they say.  Oh, please don't - '  Her commentary was interrupted by our wearer suddenly sitting down on something, probably a couch.  My vision was still stuck in her ass, but I could tell my her motions that she was adopting a pose.  'Uh, Scarlet?  I think she's waiting for someone...'

'Why else would she be wearing us and barely anything else while posed sexily on a couch?' I asked plainly.  On cue, there was a rattling noise that signaled keys being turned in a door, then the squeak of the door being opened.  "¡Dios mío, qué sorpresa más agradable!" I heard a manly voice speak in the distance.  "¿Significa esto que estamos tratando de tener un bebé esta noche?"

'Oh my God, they're straight,' Lacey stated, followed by fake puking noises.  Despite our horrific situation, I found myself laughing at her faux disgust.

"No esta noche," the Latina goddess replied, her voice reverberating through our fragile fabric.  "Ahora."  With that Spanish utterance that neither Lacey nor I could understand, the giantess stood up again, walking toward the man that only Lacey could see.

'No, don't shove my face against his fucking dick!' Lacey shrieked.  'I'm a lesbian!  I don't want anything to do with that thing!!!'  I felt as my backside - our collective front - was pushed against what must have been the man's pants.  The sounds of a Hispanic couple passionately making out reached our non-existent ears, then the woman was slowly pushed toward the couch.  Even larger fingers grabbed our sides, the man beginning to slide us down our owner's legs.  There were quick kicking motions, followed by the thunking noises of the heels landing on the floor.  Fuck, we were just a piece of the massive couple's foreplay, weren't we?

As we were sickeningly peeled away from our wearer's increasingly wet vagina, her juices soaked into the little fabric we were made out of.  I could finally see again, my eyesight having finally been freed from the Latina's ass cheeks, as we quickly slid down her legs.  We landed on the floor with her feet still within us.  That wasn't to last, as she stepped one foot out of our left leg hole, then hooked us on the other foot and sent us flying away.  I figured we were about to land on the floor, but instead, our left leg hole got hooked on the back of our owner's left heel.  Our fabric form settled in its new position, and we were left hanging by a heel while the giant Hispanic couple went at it what seemed like miles away, but was probably closer to a couple feet above us.  Both Lacey and I could see at the same time for once, but thankfully neither of us could see what was happening with the two love-making adults.  We just had to listen to the act from the floor, the woman's bra landing near us and the man's clothing quickly following suit.  Even his tie absolutely dwarfed our thong body...

Lacey was finally calming down now that we weren't in constant motion, although she certainly wasn't thrilled about the sticky fluids slowly drying into our fabric.  Neither was I, but I was choosing to deal with things more silently.  No use complaining about things out loud when my girlfriend/bodymate was the only one who would ever hear me.  Besides, we would have plenty of time to talk and complain.  We DID wish to be together FOREVER, after all.

We ended up hanging on the back of the heel on the floor for the rest of the night, the Hispanic couple having long since retreated to their bedroom for the night, which catches us up to where we are now.  Lacey's still whining about our situation (and the drying vaginal fluid), while I'm trying to get her to be quieter.  I imagine the couple is going at it again in their room, but they're not close enough to us where we can hear them.

Here we hang, in silence and slowly dimming light as the sun sets, nothing but a lacey scarlet thong containing the souls of two college girlfriends fittingly named Lacey and Scarlet.  I guess we'll be thrown in the washing machine tomorrow morning with a bunch of other clothes, then we'll sit in the woman's underwear drawer until she feels frisky enough to wear us again.  If we're lucky, maybe we'll pick up a bit of Spanish before we wear out?  Only time will tell...