Butt of the Joke

 

A Regressed Society: Celtic Tranquility

 

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.

A Regressed Society: Reunited

 

Twisted Wishes: Sharing Everything Part 2

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

----------

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

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

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

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

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

This has been Kiki, age 8, signing off.

 

Twisted Wishes: Sharing Everything part 1

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---------

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

TF Virus Part 6 (ending)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

--------

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

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

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

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

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

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

A Familial Outfit 1

 

TF Virus 5

  Continued from Part 4

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

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

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

"I'm inside you."

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

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

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

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

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

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

---------

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

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

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

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

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

Where does that leave Mom?  Well...

Forced to Watch (anonymous request)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---------

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

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

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

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