Christy sighed as she checked the clock once again.
“11:15!” she muttered to herself. “Where could he be?” She peered out of the window beside the door of her house. It was a pleasant Ohio summer evening, the stars shining brightly and the moon illuminating the streets of her neighborhood clearly. Most of the homes were dark or nearly so, children long since in bed and parents heading that way. No cars were moving as she watched impatiently.
She grumbled and looked back at the clock to find that two whole minutes had passed. She forced herself to stand away from the door, catching sight of herself in a small mirror she had mounted on the wall. She smiled a little. Despite the hour, Christy was beautiful. Clear blue eyes, an aquiline nose and a wide smile were surrounded by a shoulder-length shock of blonde hair. A pale blue blouse and black slacks nicely accented her trim, athletic figure. She ran her fingers through her hair and sighed again. “He had better hurry up,” she told her reflection.
Of course, that is precisely when the doorbell rang and made her jump. Laughing at herself and the shocked expression on the girl in the mirror, she returned to the door. She reached for the knob and then thought better of it. She looked through the eyehole in the door instead, and saw a slight man in a very nice suit. He had short-cropped salt-and-pepper hair and a matching, neatly trimmed beard. He had intense grey eyes that seemed to look straight through the peephole at her. Other than the eyes, she decided, he looked like an accountant or a psychiatrist.
“Mr. Harrison?” she asked.
“Yes, I am Lyle Harrison. Is this the Skyler residence?”
Christy opened the door. “Please, come in. I was beginning to worry.”
“My apologies,” he said. “I was detained by a bit of an emergency. Old friend, no one else to turn to, that sort of thing.”
Christy blinked a bit at his clipped manner of speaking. “Nothing too serious I hope?”
“Not at all. Shall we get started?”
Christy nodded and led him into the living room, where she offered him a place to sit on the couch. Christy sat in her favorite old recliner and checked her watch. “It is 11:21, so you do not have long to wait,” she told him.
“That is perfect,” he declared as he leaned forward and turned that penetrating gaze on her once again. “Now, tell me again how this began. Leave nothing out.”
“Well, ok. It all started about two weeks ago…”
The young man sat at his desk at home, sighing wistfully at the 3D image generated by his house computer. He had fine features, perhaps a bit delicate for his twenty-five years. He was a study in browns, from his lightly tanned skin to his dark brown hair to his chocolate brown eyes. Clad only in a pair of boxers, his body was vaguely fit if not in peak condition. He was, in his estimation, depressingly average.
The girl posing above his desk was anything but average. She had a swirling mane of honey blonde hair surrounding a saucy face dominated by huge blue eyes and a broad smile. She was wearing nothing but a lacey black pair of panties with hot pink borders and a matching bra. Her body was of the slim-but-stacked variety, with long mouthwatering legs and a firm pair of breasts that were nestled in her cupped hands. She was grinning at the camera as though to say “Look what I have!” She stood on top of a little platform, with the words “Babe of The Day, brought to you by G91” scrolling around the platform’s base. Virtual buttons along the base allowed him to rotate, enlarge, and otherwise manipulate the image.
“She is perfect,” he sighed. G91 was a local radio station. Its web site posted a new 3D image each day and he had been visiting it for weeks. “Is she the one, though?”
He looked at her again, closely. Her hair appeared to be a natural blonde, which was important to him. Her hands were pushing her breasts up in a way that suggested they were natural despite their size, another point in her favor. She also had such an infectiously open smile. He found himself wanting to smile with her and he imagined she had a vivacious personality judging by the glint in her eyes. On the other hand, while her face was certainly beautiful in a girl-next-door sort of way there had been even prettier girls earlier in the week. He wondered if he should keep looking.
“No, enough,” he told himself. “None of the other girls have been what I want. It has to be her. Genie?”
“Yes, master?” said a pleasant female voice from speakers hidden in the walls of his house. Another figure appeared on the desk, this time of a blonde girl in a pink harem outfit.
“Please bring up the New You site.”
“Yes master. I am required to remind, you, though, that this site has been listed several times for performing unauthorized magical—“
“Enough. Bring it up.”
“Yes, master.” Genie faded away and was replaced by what appeared to be a piece of ivory paper lying on his desktop. Ornate writing on the virtual paper welcomed him back to the New You site. A subheading announced “Your complete low cost transformation service. We will not be undersold!” Smaller script showed a list of options, including “Custom Illusions”, “Morphic Forms”, and “Celebrity Masks.” He touched an item on the list that read “Complete Transformation by Image.”
The document faded to a blank page for a moment, then showed a series of questions. Most were obvious, asking if he was over eighteen, understood what he was asking for, that he had permission to use the body he had requested, and so on. Tapping on the bottom of the page resulted in the appearance of a second one that asked him for a target image. He reached over to the Babe of the Day, who was still posing on his desk, and curled his hand around the holographic image. As he moved his hand across the desktop the Babe of the Day moved with it until he had dragged her onto the virtual document. The 3D image and pedestal faded and a two-dimensional version of the girl now appeared on the page. Another click and the page shifted to one requesting payment information. He held up his hand to allow the computer to scan the tiny chip buried in the flesh of his wrist. The document now read “Identity confirmed, Chris Skyler. Transaction approved. Do you wish to proceed? Press YES to begin the transformation or NO to cancel this transaction.”
The young man held his breath, staring at the page. It was everything he had dreamt of, ever since the Return. All around him, people had changed species, ages, races, and genders. Some gained amazing powers and others terrible curses. Magical items appeared that wreaked even more havoc and transformed people in bizarre ways. Suddenly his fantasies were possible – and all through it he was still the same as he had always been: depressingly average and distressingly male. The irony of it was crushing.
He had gained hope when he heard of places like Circe’s Studio and the Body Stylist, but they were all too expensive for him. He was working as a manager at a local bar while he completed a college degree through night courses. He was lucky to afford lunch, let alone the services of a real magician.
Now, finally, the solution was at hand. New You’s prices were much lower than anything he had seen. They were still at the limits of what he could afford, but at long last his dream was possible. Still, he hesitated for a moment. “Genie, please save a static copy of this document,” he told the computer. He knew he was stalling on the threshold of his dreams but doubts still swirled in his mind. What if he did not like it? The reality might not be as nice as the dream. Did he really trust New You? His computer clearly did not. What if it went wrong?
He shook his head. None of that mattered compared to the chance to finally live as he desperately wanted, to release his true self. He paused only a moment more before firmly pressing the word ‘YES’ with his thick male finger. There was a sudden burst of dizziness—and then he was staring at a finger that was long, elegant, and tipped by a tapered nail covered in a clear polish. He blinked and raised his hand to find that all of his fingers were equally slim and undeniably feminine. His hand was small and lightly tanned at the end of an arm that whose nearly hairless skin accented the graceful musculature underneath. He – no, make that she – looked down and was rewarded with the sight of twin pert mounds nestled in a lacy black bra with a pink border. Thick strands of blonde hair trailed over her new cleavage. She reached up with both hands to cup her new bosom in glee, unconsciously but perfectly mimicking the pose and expression of the 3D girl still on the desktop.
Happily she bounced to her feet and ran to the bathroom, where she looked in the mirror to find that she was indeed a perfect twin of the model’s image. She felt tears gathering in her eyes as she looked upon her every dream realized. Her hands drifted down her new body, reveling in its soft new curves –
“Yes, I see,” interrupted Mr. Harrison. “So the initial transformation was fine. When did things go wrong?”
Christy blushed a little. “I’m sorry. You just have to understand why –”
Mr. Harrison tapped on the face of his watch. “As you mentioned, time is of the essence.”
“You’re right, of course. Oh my, 11:45 already. Let’s see. After registering my new form with the government, I made a quick trip to the mall…”
The new girl stood in her bedroom, looking at her reflection in a full length, three-paned mirror. It was her largest single purchase and worth every penny, as it let her see her new body from every angle. She had been surprised how hard it was to carry in and set up. She had known she would be weaker but it still was disquieting and, in a strange way, exciting. She was low on cash, especially after paying for the transformation and the mirror, but had burned up her credit lines to purchase several bags of clothing ranging from merely scandalous to simply outrageous. Smaller bags held makeup and perfumes and shoes and other things she did not even remember any more. She would be paying for this shopping spree for a long time but she did not care. She loved her new body and was looking forward to seeing it, and showing it off, in all sorts of pretty things.
She had been at it for hours, pausing only for dinner before returning to the bedroom for more experimentation. She loved her current outfit, a darling floral print whose subtle blues accentuated her eyes. She finally had the makeup about right, she decided, though the eye shadow was still a bit overdramatic. She yawned and looked at the clock. “11:30!” she said. “I need to get ready for bed.”
Humming to herself, she slipped out of the dress that she had been wearing. She stepped into the bathroom dressed only in her panties to remove her makeup. She had done it before as a man during a few frustrating attempts at cross-dressing, but the makeup seemed to come off of her smooth feminine skin more easily than her old male face. She had just rinsed her face and was contemplating moisturizers when she suddenly felt a little dizzy. She shook her head and realized something was wrong. Her hair was longer, reaching down to the small of her back. And the room looked smaller, almost shrunken. She looked down and yelped. She was now dressed in a black, white, and grey-striped bikini whose tiny top struggled to hide the heavy round globes that had replaced her pert breasts. Her hips were wider, too, and for some reason she was wearing black leather boots that went nearly to her knees and ended in spiked heels.
“What the hell?” she said in an unfamiliar throaty purr and looked in the mirror. The girl reflected there was not the natural blonde beauty that she had been moments before. She was taller, bustier, and her hair while pretty was obviously dyed. She was deeply tanned and obviously coated in suntan oil. Her blue eyes were a pale green now and her triangular face had a fox-like beauty that was entirely different from the girl-next-door look she had possessed moments ago.
“They screwed something up,” she told her altered reflection. She strode quickly from the bathroom to her den, trying to ignore the jiggle of her larger breasts and they way the tall boots made her butt wiggle. Sitting at her desk she snapped “Genie!”
“Please identify yourself,” said the harem girl as she reappeared, a cutely stern expression on her face. Chris groaned and held her wrist over the scanner. Genie smiled. “Yes mistress, how may I serve you?”
“Bring up the New You site.”
“Yes mistress. I am required to remind, you—“
“Yes, yes I know.” The genie faded away, to be replaced by the New You site’s document. The newly minted beach bunny scanned through the text, finally finding a line of tiny text that read “Tap here for Customer Service.” She jabbed the line with her finger, expecting to see a customer service representative’s image appear. Instead, another form appeared that had blanks for her order number, the nature of the problem encountered, and so on. Grumbling, she filled out the form. A final form appeared, telling her that customer service’s normal hours were between eight and five weekdays and thanking her for her continued interest in New You.
“Damn it!” she said, returning to the bedroom and standing before the mirror. She contemplated the bags of clothes. “I wonder if any of those will fit…”
“And what response did you get from New You?” wondered her visitor.
“Nothing at first. I called in sick to work the next day. I was going to introduce everyone to my new body that day but had not expected the second transformation, of course. I thought that they would have it worked out and I’d be back to the body I wanted. Instead, I spent all day waiting for a response. I even did some searching on the web to try and find a phone number or some other way to contact them. Finally I fell asleep a little after eleven that night…”
Chris, or Christy as she was now thinking of herself, groaned and stretched as an insistent voice announced, “Mistress, time to wake up. Mistress, time to wake up.” She glared at the nightstand, where Genie’s tiny computer generated image was tapping her foot impatiently and looking at her wrist as though consulting a watch. “OK, I’m up,” she muttered.
Genie looked at her suspiciously. “Please identify yourself.”
“I did that yesterday!” she said, and waved her wrist at the computer’s avatar.
“Oh! Good morning, mistress. Have a magical day.” Genie vanished in a puff of virtual pink smoke and Christy sat up on the edge of her bed. She was still sleepy and decided she must not have slept well because she felt out of sorts.
Christy slid off the bed and nearly fell. The floor was further away than it should have been. Christy’s eyes went wide and she looked down to see that the she had changed yet again. An even bigger bosom was nestled in a deep red bikini top. Shiny platinum blonde hair fell into her field of vision. “No way,” she said in a voice that was a high, sweet soprano completely different from the sultry purr of yesterday.
She walked over to the mirror tentatively. The girl reflected there today was short, much shorter than the last two days. She was also extremely curvaceous, her large breasts offset by broad hips and a big rounded bottom that was scandalously highlighted by the red thong bikini bottom. She had dark blue-green eyes, high cheekbones, and a somewhat square chin that gave her a cute look that was only made cuter by the shocked expression on her face.
“Not again,” said Christy as she stared at her third new body in as many days. “I’m, like, huge!”
“Mistress? You have a call waiting from New You customer service,” said Genie’s voice.
“Finally! I’ll take it in the den, ‘k?” Christy made her way quickly to her desk. This body was definitely different from the taller girls she had been the last few days. The wide hips swiveled in a way that made her feel a bit like she was walking on the deck of a boat. Everything seemed to have an extra bounce or jiggle to it, especially her chest. Once she reached the desk she had to adjust her chair before she could even sit in it, and even then she found that the underside of her bosom pressed uncomfortably against the desk’s edge.
“Alright, Genie, answer the call.” Christy watched as a new image appeared above her desk, this time of young man wearing tan pants and a white polo shirt with the New You logo emblazoned on it. He smiled at Christy in a way that made her cross her arms over her new breasts.
“Miss Skyler? I’m John with New You customer service. How can I help you?”
“Finally. I’ve been waiting like forever for you to call!”
“I’m very sorry,” he said, though his smile did not waver. “We have had a lot of customers the last few days. It seems that summer is a popular time to try on new forms.”
Christy waved her hand dismissively. “Whatever. Look, you people messed up, you know? This is not the body I am, like, supposed to have.”
“Alright, let me bring up your order.” Christy rolled her eyes as John began working with his computer. Why hadn’t he looked it up before she called, she wondered. “Ah, here we are.” He looked at a document on his desktop, then at Christy, then back at the desktop. “What seems to be the problem?” he finally asked.
“What do you mean what’s the problem? Look at me! This is not what I asked for at all!” Christy did not like the whining tone that had crept into her own voice but found she could not help it.
John looked puzzled and said something to his computer. A new image appeared beside John, and Christy saw that it was the document that she had filled out when placing her order. There was only one problem – the image on the document was the same one that she had seen in the mirror just a few moments ago, platinum blonde hair and all. “Unless I’m mistaken, Miss Skyler, this does appear to be the shape you requested.”
“No, no, no. This is not happening!” Christy called on Genie to bring up her copy of the document and show it to John. The leggy blonde with honey-blonde hair that she had asked for was there, just as she remembered it. John’s smile finally slipped a bit as he looked at the two documents and Christy felt a small sense of victory.
“So you transformed into the image on our copy of the document?” asked John.
“No, not at first. At first I was her—“ Christy pointed at her copy of the document. “Then I was another babe yesterday. Now this morning I woke up like this!”
John shook his head, still comparing the documents. “That does not make sense. Our Transformation by Image service is a one-time thing. What you’re describing almost sounds like a curse. Were you using any other magical items, or have you been exposed to any other magical effects recently?”
Christy shook her head, platinum tresses swirling about. “No, nothing.”
John muttered to himself as he worked with his computer. “You say you were another girl yesterday? What was that form like?” Christy described the taller, sultry form she had worn the day before. John pursed his lips. “At least each form was beautiful,” he said as he continued to work.
His words triggered something for Christy. Each form had been as pretty as a model, worthy of gracing a magazine cover. Or…
“Genie, bring up the Babe of the Day site.” Christy gasped as the computer complied and the girl appeared on her desktop. It was her, or at least the body that she now wore, right down to the red bikini and outrageous curves. “Oh my god. John, look!”
The customer service rep looked at the image and then at Christy. “It’s you! Where did you find it?”
Christy explained what she had done, and John’s smile was now completely gone. “Miss Skyler, please wait while I speak with my manager.”
“So you it was only then that you realized you were becoming the ‘Babe of the Day’ each day?”
“Well, yes. I suppose it seems obvious now, but it did not occur to me. I was too busy dealing with a different body every morning!”
Her visitor looked her over. “You were blonde all three days? And today as well?”
Christy rolled her eyes. “Yes, the Babe of the Day seems to be blonde a lot. I have been a brunette, I think last Sunday, and yesterday I was more of a light brown or dark blonde with the cutest ears, almost like an elf—“
“Yes, I see. I have some more questions but they must wait. Midnight is almost here, Miss Skyler. Please be still so that I may observe.”
Christy did as he asked, sitting still on the couch and watching the clock on the wall. Mr. Harrison seemed content to wait, regarding her calmly. Finally, the last moment before midnight, and her clock began to chime. She squirmed a bit in her seat. “I’m sorry, it sometimes does not happen right at—“
Christy’s words faded in a now familiar wave of dizziness. Mr. Harrison watched curiously as his client suddenly shrank, the slim, athletic form becoming shorter as her hips widened, her breasts swelled, and her hair lightened to a sassy platinum shade. Her clothes changed as well, top and slacks merging into a red dress with a wealth of tiny white polka dots. Christy looked up at him from eyes that were now big and blue in a vivaciously pretty face with a wide mouth and strong nose. Christy looked down at herself and said in an unladylike tone, “Oh shit, these are the biggest so far!” Her hands cupped her newly bounteous bosom through the dress and she quickly rose to look at herself in the mirror by the door. “Oh my god, Ah look like a young Dolly Parton!”
Mr. Harrison did not answer, and the newly transformed Christy turned and saw that he was sitting with his eyes closed. His lips moved slightly as though he were talking to himself, and his hands moved slightly in the air before him as though tracing the outline of an unfamiliar shape. Christy went back to looking at her new face. She tried a smile and was dazzled by the big white teeth revealed. “Ah am such a country girl,” she muttered to herself. “I should get a cowgirl hat!”
“That is…remarkable,” said her visitor as he finally came out of his reverie. Christy returned to her seat, sighing as she had to adjust her new breasts so they felt more comfortable. Christy wished the model had at least worn a bra for her photos. It was a sure bet that none of the bras she had bought for herself would fit these mammaries. “Tell me,” he said, apparently oblivious to her preoccupation with her latest form. “Has New You attempted any analysis of the spell?”
Christy rolled her new baby blue eyes. “Yes, but they were no help. They sent some local guy here who took one look at me and said, ‘Ah’m not touching that’ before he ran out the door. They tried to claim it was not their problem the other day. That’s when Ah hired Ken Lugar, who sent you.” Something about her new voice was bothering her but she could not decide what it was.
“Yes, I have known Ken for some time. He is an excellent attorney.”
“Ah’m glad to hear that. He seems to know his stuff. He already has New You trying to settle outta court.”
“Correct. That is why I am here. My evaluation will give him some grounds for a lawsuit if it should come to that.”
“So…what do you think?” Christy bit her lip.
Mr. Harrison sighed. “I’m not entirely sure how to answer that question. I will say that this is the most complicated case I have dealt with. You have a persistent spell attached to you, so in ways it is like a curse. Are you familiar with the concept?”
Christy shook her head. “No, Ah mean other than the fact that curses don’t go away.” She blinked as she realized she was drawing out the “ay” sound in away, and her “I” sounds were coming out “ah”, giving her voice a soft southern twang.
“Curses are basically a spell that uses its target for a source of energy. When a sorcerer casts a spell, he uses his own power to energize it. The strength and the persistence of the spell depend on the abilities of the person casting the spell. A curse attaches itself to its target and gets its energy from them. This is why a curse can last indefinitely, constantly powering itself from its victim.”
Christy smiled a little. This was the most her visitor had spoken in one breath all night. Then her brow creased and her lips pursed cutely. “You said ‘like a curse’ though. Is this somethin’ different?”
“Yes indeed. It seems that New You is using a form of automated spell casting. It draws energy from some source at their facility and appears to send the energy through devices that have template spells built into them. The one used on you, for example, must have a basic transformation spell with only the target form left out. There is another spell involved, though, and I believe that it was simply supposed to convert the image you supplied into a transformation target. It then combines that target with the template to generate a transformation spell specific to the user.”
Christy nodded slowly. “Ah think ah understand. So what went wrong?”
“Tell me something. How did you send the 3D image to New You?”
“Ah just dragged the image from the Babe of the Day site. Was that wrong?”
He shook his head. “No, you did what anyone might have done. I expected it was something like that. I have a theory, but please keep in mind it is only a theory. The root cause is that the site changes its image each day. Somehow the conversion program recognized this and interpreted it as a request to keep the user looking like the current day’s model. It therefore created a persistent spell with the link you supplied as a target. So every time the site updates the Babe of the Day…”
“…ah change shapes.” Christy placed her hands on her temples and rubbed them. “Ah’m gettin’ a headache. So how do we cure it?”
Mr. Harrison leaned forward and looked at her earnestly, the first real emotion she had seen on his face. “I am not sure that we can. The best way to defeat a curse is to break it yourself – but you show no signs of magical ability. Another way is to kill the person who cast the curse, which will often cause the spell matrix to unravel. There is no person involved for you to kill, though.”
Tears filled Christy’s big blue eyes as she listened. “So what? Ah’m gonna change every day for the rest of mah life?”
He stood and crossed over to sit beside her, taking one of her dainty new hands in his. “I did not say that. Look Miss Skyler – Christy – our understanding of magic is still new. There may be ways to remove this spell from you that I am not aware of. I will research it, but I have to warn you that this may go on for some time before we can solve this riddle.”
Christy nodded, fighting back the tears. “OK, OK.” She sighed. “Ah suppose there are worse things than being a different pretty woman every day.”
He actually laughed. “Yes, imagine if you had gone to the ‘Zoo Animal of the Day’ site.”
Christy rolled her eyes but laughed along with him. “Tell me, though, why do Ah sound like a southern belle all of a sudden?”
He nodded. “I had noticed that. I suspect the real model has a very strong accent and you are picking up some of it. You will probably find small changes in your behavior depending on who you become and how strong their personalities are.”
Christy laughed. “Great, so if Ah get turned into some total bimbo—“
“Oh I don’t think it will ever be so strong as to overwhelm your own personality. Just…modify or enhance it, if you will.”
Christy nodded thoughtfully. “So…you’ll talk to Ken for me?”
“Yes, of course. Do not worry, Christy. I am sure that he will have New You eating out of your hand.”
With that, he took his leave and was gone as quickly as he had come. Christy wandered into her bedroom and looked at the sunny blonde country girl in the mirror. “Ah almost wish this one was permanent,” she mused. She hefted her mountainous breasts in her hands. “Ah am definitely going to turn heads at the mall tomorrow!”
Christy stood in front of her mirror in her bedroom, talking to her lawyer. His image stood on her nightstand, a handsome black man with slightly graying hair and a still trim build in his perfectly tailored suit. She had turned off her video since she was currently as naked as a jaybird. Today she was once more a blonde. She was starting to wonder if the Babe of the Day site was stuck in a golden-haired rut. This time the hair was so light it was almost silver where the light struck it. The dark brows and light brown eyes, though, told her that the color had to come from a spell or a bottle. She wondered why the model had not had her eyes done as well and then decided the girl’s money had gone into breast enhancement magic. Her boobs were not as large as they had been a few days ago, but they were definitely impressive and too perfect to be natural. Christy flicked idly at the diamond stud that pierced her navel as her lawyer’s voice floated from the room’s speakers.
“…so in summary, they have agreed to most of our terms. They will cover the costs of registering your new form each day with the government. They will also pay you a stipend for new clothes, makeup, etc. Both of those will continue until a cure is found or until your demise. They will also cover any medical or thaumaturgical costs associated with discovering a cure.”
“That all sounds good,” she said, watching her thick brown nipples harden as she tugged at the piercing. Maybe it was not so bad after all, she thought. “You said ‘most’ of our terms, though, and that sounds like all of them.”
“All but the most important one,” he replied. “The cash settlement is lower than we had hoped.”
Christy’s eyes narrowed. She had been feeling moody as hell ever since she woke in this form and now felt a sharp stab of anger. “What? How low did those bastards go?” Ken did not say anything for a moment and Christy sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m having an odd day. I think my current body must be a real diva,” she said.
“It’s alright, Christy. I know how hard this has been for you. Really, their proposal is not out of our range. They offered seven million.”
“What? That’s the minimum we asked for!”
“I know, I know. I warned you that we might have been pushing for too much. Their lawyers are buying our argument that you cannot work in your chosen career, so they’ve projected what you may have earned over the course of your life, assuming that you eventually owned your own bar. They’ve added some compensation for ‘pain and suffering’ as well.”
“That’s ridiculous. I was not going to be a bar manager forever.”
“Of course not, but that is a standard that a court might use as well in determining an appropriate reward. New You is also holding the agreement that you signed over our heads, in which you agreed not to hold them liable for any problems with their magic.”
Christy sighed and looked at herself in the mirror. “And if we go to court?”
“It’s all-or-nothing. We would probably get more from a sympathetic jury. The possibility exists that they would hold you to that agreement. The New You lawyers would also point out that you did not have permission to use the original woman’s body as a transformation target. A jury might agree with them, in which case you would get nothing. As your attorney, I have to tell you that this is a good deal and recommend that you sign it.”
Christy reluctantly agreed and told the house computer to show her the documents. She barely read them; the legalese was really over her head. The cash payment number was bigger than anything she had ever seen associated with her name. No wonder Ken was happy; his commission would pay him handsomely. She signed the documents, thanked Ken for his work, and went back to looking at herself in the mirror. “I should be happier,” she told her reflection. “I am a girl. I’m beautiful. I have a budget for new clothes. Oh, and I’m rich.” She sighed and passed a hand through her hair and wondered what color it would be tomorrow. “Probably blonde,” she mused with a slight smile.
She posed for herself in the mirror. The stud in her belly button kept catching her eye. “I’m a rich bitch now,” she giggled. “I can get matching studs for my ears!” As always, the thought of shopping cheered her up and she mugged for the mirror, striking poses that were progressively more suggestive.
Lyle Harrison had cut her off too soon when she was telling him about her first transformation. That night, and nearly every night since, had all started like this. She loved looking at herself in the mirror, though she knew it was more than a little narcissistic. She reveled in her womanhood despite the oddity of having a different form of it each day. The miracle of seeing a beautiful woman looking back at her, and knowing that the gorgeous creature was her, was a novelty that had not worn off yet.
Tonight, as with other nights, posing led to soft caresses. Her hands explored this day’s body, delighting in the similarities and differences they found to previous forms. This body’s nipples, she found, were very sensitive and she spent quite a bit of time teasing them. A by now familiar warmth in her nether regions prompted her to remove her panties. Today’s body was shaved down below, and she lay on her bed so that she could look at her womanhood in the mirror. The glistening pink folds and valleys were familiar and alien to her all at once. Her hands eagerly slid down her new body to explore and it was not long at all before she was crying out in ecstasy.
Christy reflected that she may be new to pleasing her own female anatomy, but that she was getting quite good at it. She sighed happily and drifted off to sleep.
“Mistress? It is 11:58. Mistress?” Genie’s voice woke her from her nap. She had asked the computer to wake her before midnight most days so that she could see what the new day would bring. Some days she slept through it and woke to find herself sleeping in a bikini, or dress, or whatever else the model had been wearing. She had woken herself one night when a stiletto heel jabbed into her leg as she slept. She had learned to at least wake enough to strip off the new clothes. Today she stirred groggily and wandered over to the mirror, just as the familiar dizziness struck.
Christy looked down at herself. Big surprise, she mused as strands of hair fell about her face. I’m a blonde again. Firm, though not overly large breasts, pushed out against a cropped black t-shirt. Below that she saw that she had a pierced navel, though the stud was different from the previous day. She was wearing black panties and nothing else below the waist.
Christy looked up to find her reflection in the mirror. She was puzzled, because there were two girls in the reflection. The one in the black t-shirt was obviously her. She was also wearing a black baseball cap. Both items had the logo of a modeling agency emblazoned on them. The girl standing to her left was similar to her. She was blonde and beautiful and wearing clothes like hers. Her t-shirt was red, though, and stretched across an impressive bosom.
At the same moment, Christy looked down at herself. Big surprise, she mused as strands of hair fell about her face. I’m a blonde again. Large pillowy breasts were barely contained by a cropped red t-shirt. She had to lean forward a bit to see that she was wearing black panties and nothing else below the waist.
Christy looked up to find her reflection in the mirror. She was puzzled, because there were two girls in the reflection. The one in the red t-shirt was obviously her. She was also wearing a black baseball cap. Both items had the logo of a modeling agency emblazoned on them. The girl standing to her right was similar to her. She was blonde and beautiful and wearing clothes like hers. Her t-shirt was black, though, and her breasts were nicely formed but smaller than her own. A diamond stud glinted in her belly button.
The two girls stared at their reflections in the mirror for a long moment, then turned their heads to look at each other. As one, they yelled, “Genie, bring up the Babe of the Day site!”
“Let me get this straight,” said Ken’s image atop Christy’s desktop. “You’re both Christy?” His hair was matted down and his suit had been replaced by yellow and red striped pajamas.
“Yes,” they replied in unison. The looked at each other and the statuesque girl in red went on alone, “We checked the Babe of the Day site. This is today’s image.” Ken looked at the 3D they sent. Two models were posed together, one in black and one in red. They were perfect twins of the girls that had gotten him out of bed. Their poses and the expressions on their face were extremely provocative – a far cry from the identical expressions of concern on the faces of his client. Or was that clients?
Ken sighed. “Ok, ok. I’ll ask Lyle Harrison to see you…both…first thing tomorrow.” He shook his head at his clients. “Why did I ever let myself take on magic cases? Do I at least get to charge you double?” he said with an exasperated sigh.
The girls both laughed. That at least was different. The girl in red tended to giggle, while the girl in black had a cute snorting laugh. The odd thing was that the cadence of the laughter was the same, and they stopped at the same instant. “Thank you, Ken,” they told him and ended the call.
The two girls headed back to the bedroom, only bumping into each other a few times on the way. Their hurried trip to the den to call Ken had been much more awkward as they kept trying to occupy the same space at the same time.
The girls sat on the bed and looked into each other’s eyes. No words were exchanged as they both reached the same conclusion and leaned towards each other for a long, searching kiss. They sat back, contemplating the sensation. They had not been kissed since they became female though they had certainly been thinking about it. The bustier Christy seemed lost in thought, while the slimmer girl had a gleam in her eye. She reached out and traced the outlines of the other girl’s massive breast, slipping her hand under the short t-shirt to caress the firm mound and eliciting a throaty moan that made them both giggle. Their eyes met and they wordlessly began to undress each other. It was slow going, as each girl tried to move at the same time and in the same way. Finally, though, they were in each other’s arms, their sleek naked bodies molding together perfectly as they lay on the bed.
It was a long night indeed as the two girls learned how to pleasure each other and pushed their new bodies to the limits time and time again. Each found the experience much more satisfying than the previous solo nights and learned a great deal about their female bodies. As morning broke, though, the slimmer girl realized that she was wondering what it would be like to be with a man like Ken or Lyle, while the other girl was musing about being with one of Chris’s old girlfriends.
The two Christy’s watched the light from rising sun fill their bedroom and wondered what changes this day would bring.
To be continued….