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Chapter 1 - Setting Up
“And I am out,” Caden announced after the last few drops hit his tongue. “What about you?”
Nathan gave him an annoyed look. “I get it. Midnight shift. We both were drafted with barely any warning. Now we are out of coffee and the irony is that there are three coffee shops close by, but all are closed.”
Caden pointed behind him. “You know, I could-”
“Run to the break room at the other end of the mall?” Nathan let his hammer hit the floor with a solid thud and looked at his younger co-worker. What a difference five years could make. “Let me guess, the little coffee run would take about half an hour? Enough time for me to finish up. No skirting work. You volunteered for this extra shift. Now you have to deliver. And we are nearly finished anyway. So grab your stuff and get to it.”
“Yeah. Yeah.” Caden turned away so Nathan couldn't see his pout. Five years older and Nathan acted like he was his supervisor. Granted, Caden was new to the mall and pretty green behind his ears. Maybe that's why Nathan had easily seen through Caden's attempt to slack off.
The work itself wasn't hard. No matter how much Caden murmured to the contrary. It was some last-minute shipment arriving from BetterU Incorporated. He still couldn't believe it. Parallel universes were real. Even stranger, companies existed that opened up subsidiaries in new worlds. BetterU Incorporated was one of those and they recently announced their first product to be rolled out on Caden's world. Some kind of auto-closet that dresses one automatically with the press of a few buttons.
Eventually, these auto-closets would be in every home. So, they promised. But for now, they rolled out in malls and shopping arcades. Caden had thought it would take a few more months, but then a shipment arrived here. Hence the need to set up one auto-closet overnight.
“I need box thirteen and-” Nathan squinted at the instruction manual. “Privacy panel ten and eleven.”
Still grumbling, Caden fetched the indicated pieces. “Have you thought about using one?” he asked as he held up a panel for Nathan to screw onto the rest of the contraption. “An auto-closet, I mean. They do sound like they could save time.”
Nathan snorted. “The youth of today. I got two hands, don't I? Why would I need such a fancy device?”
“I am not lazy.” Caden ignored the pointed look by his co-worker. “And it isn't for daily use. At least, those first ones in the mall. Just imagine. Jump into one and five minutes later, you are suited up and ready for the opera. A tux that is measured to your body and cheaper than going to a tailor.”
“You? The opera?” Nathan bellowed a laugh. “That's rich.”
Caden rolled his eyes. “It's just an example. Not that I want to go to such a posh event. But I remember my prom night. How my mother fussed around. I would rather have jumped into one of these and get it done quickly.”
Nathan gave a playful slap and squeeze of Caden's shoulder. “Well, looks like you are now able to. I think that was the last piece connected. It's booting up and it looks ready to go.”
Indeed, they had finished up the last few tasks while ribbing each other. The auto-closet took up the whole space where a small boutique used to be. Instead of the storefront, there was now a large sleek display and the entrance to the auto-closet. All the magic happened inside. How exactly was beyond both of them. They had stacked and connected boxes, but most of the functions of each eluded them. There was only one way to find out.
“Well, I don't mind getting out of my overalls,” Caden remarked before stepping to the display. Browsing through it in search of inspiration. “Damn, there are a lot of options. Even Cosplay. Get this, I heard that the thing cleans one up too. No need to shower later. Hey, don't roll your eyes. I am just saying. It would be gross to be still sweaty when getting into new clothes.”
“Whatever you say, guinea pig.” Nathan looked at his watch. “I kinda want to get going. It is late enough. Now, do you really want to go through with this? Either make up your mind or let's tidy up and go.”
“It's these options. There are a lot. How about some casual wear. Uhh, look at those premium features.” Caden pointed at the body modification section. One could cheat with material and science and fake an altered physique. Or they could utilize what BetterU Inc. called “magic” and actually reshape the body. “I wouldn't mind some more pounds of muscles. But there is no way I can afford that price tag. Even with the forty percent they have off as a promotion.” The impatient tapping of Nathan's foot clued Caden in that he was running out of time. “Alright. Cool your horses. I am going.”
A last tap and the program was finalized. The door opened and Caden stepped in. Despite having just built the damn thing, the inside looked different. Boxes had opened hidden compartments and hinted at robotic appendages. Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea after all.
Caden was just about to step back out when the lights dimmed, the door closed, and a soft female voice spoke up. “Welcome to the auto-closet. An exclusive product by BetterU Incorporated. You have selected casual clothing. Evening. Calculating the best appropriate outfit.” A hologram flickered to life before Caden. Showing him in sensible garments for the current season. They looked good too. Even better, they made him look good. “Please confirm the outfit and purchase.”
“In for a penny-” Caden took a deep breath and stepped forward. “I confirm.”
“Acknowledged. Now applying-” The soft voice abruptly cut off into static and glitches. A few syllables repeated like a broken record. Then the hologram before him changed. The new preview made Caden's eyes go wide and the return of the voice didn't help one bit. “Acknowledged. Now applying: Housewife. Era: the sixties. Figure enhancement: selected. Please hold still. Commencing. Step one: undressing.”
“Oh, no. Fuck that! That's not what I wanted.” Caden turned around and banged against the door. “Nathan! Nathan, help! This damn thing is malfunctioning.” No matter how hard he hammered, his shouts remained unanswered. In the back of his mind, he knew of the superb noise insulation. But as panic took over, Caden gave a shit about facts and explanations. He just wanted out.
“Resistance detected,” the computer voice patiently continued. “Initiating rowdy children protocol.”
Metal arms snaked out of compartments. To Caleb, they appeared as animate as snakes. Within seconds, they had coiled around his wrists and ankles. Then lifting him off the ground. Despite fighting, he was dragged to the middle of the chamber.
“Commencing disrobing.”
Lasers danced over Caden's form. For a moment he thought they were just to measure him. But then his work uniform rained to the floor as tiny scraps. Yet no harm had come to him. Not even a scratch.
“Applying figure modifying prosthetics.”
Something was pushed against his butt. It appeared to squeeze it and push from all sides. Yet as the pressure subsided, something remained. A jiggling flesh-like substance that made his butt more pronounced. But the auto-closet wasn't finished. Two more prosthetics were applied. Enhancing his hips. They definitely looked womanly to him now.
Caden had barely stomached the latest development when a flesh-colored band was wrapped around his torso. It appeared to fuse in his back and slowly started to constrict his waist. Just like a corset, Caden reasoned.
“Oh, no, no, no, no!” All protests helped little as two big globes came closer. Despite struggles, they were pushed onto his chest. Sticking there a moment later as if nature had intended for Caden to have big breasts.
“This can't get any worse,” Caden cried out. Only to regret it a moment later. A robot arm aimed the next prosthesis directly at his face. “Get that thing away from me!”
Then he was muffled as the artificial flesh was pressed against his skin. A moment later, he could see and breathe again. But he could also feel the thin material of whatever mask they had stuck to his face. How did he look now? Would he even recognize himself in a mirror?
“This is a nightmare,” Caden whispered and then his eyes went wide. He hadn't spoken in his own voice. What came out from his throat had been higher and feminine. “Some kind of voice changer.”
Caden had been so distracted that the next prosthesis caught him off guard. Something big was pressed against his groin. He dreaded the look down, but couldn't help as the robot withdrew. The area around his groin looked nearly completely flat. He was glad that he could still feel his member under the prosthesis, but it was uncomfortably compressed. His discomfort melted away as the feeling diminished. Maybe the prosthesis had some numbing cream applied to it beforehand.
“What now, you bastard child of Skynet?” Caden asked in his new high-pitched voice as the robot arms lifted him higher. A large ring was placed below him with a thin membrane clinging to it. Whatever the flesh-colored material was, Caden was lowered to it. As his feet dipped into the membrane, it started to coat his feet. Clinging to and slightly compressing them.
Step by step, Caden was lowered further. Ankles, calves, and then up to his hips. For the procedure, the robot arms holding his legs had to let go, but Caden's hope was squashed as the next robotic appendages were already in place to grab onto him again. Now the ring was up to his waist. Then went over his chest and newly acquired breasts. As they neared his face, Caden took as a precaution a gulp of air. Head and arms followed. Then, he could see the aftermath. The membrane now clung to him from head to toe and had taken on the texture of skin. It didn't even look like he was wearing prostheses anymore. All he could see was unblemished skin. The gentle compression of the membrane made him look slimmer. More youthful too.
The only spot spared by the membrane was his scalp as Caden found out when some kind of mechanical hood descended upon it. For a minute or two, he felt tugging on his hair. Caden was unsure what the machine had done until the hood rose again. Electrostatic made his hair cling to the hood for a moment. That shouldn't have been possible, as Caden wore his hair short. Yet now, luscious locks of hair tumbled down.
Caden knew now his body would look perfectly feminine. The next step he both anticipated and dreaded. He didn't want to be dressed, but once he was clothed, he would escape this infernal machine. Then, he could figure out how to undo this madness. But Caden was wrong.
The machine concentrated on his feet next. His nails remained exposed and now, they were attacked. Granted, they were a bit long and he had meant to cut them soon. But the auto-closet had other plans. They were filled down and buffed until even they looked feminine. Caden didn't even know that was a possibility. Just to underline it more, nail polish was applied. A subtle pastel pink. Followed by a clear coat.
“Not my hands too,” Caden whined as a small army of robot appendages homed in on his hands. Here, the auto-closet determined that Caden's nails were too short. After a little prep, fake nails were glued on that added to the apparent length by half an inch. They got a generous coating of pastel pink nail polish. As an accent, Caden got white French tips. Despite that he didn't want them or any of this. Of course, last came a clear coat.
The robots allowed him to examine his hands. As if they were proud to show Caden what they had produced. Or maybe as a distraction. It was fast. Caden suddenly felt his earlobes gripped. Two piercing pains at the same time a split second later. Something was inserted into the tiny holes Caden now sported. Then, the machine released his ears. It was irrational, but Caden tried to look at his ears. Not that it was possible. But his struggle told him that nothing was dangling from his ears. So, they probably had inserted studs into his nearly pierced ears.
“Figure enhancement complete,” the soft computer voice announced. It did so calmly as if the machine hadn't just tortured Caden into a new physical appearance. “Applying selected wardrobe.”
Caden hung limply within the grasp of the robots. He had fought and he had lost. Now, he just wanted it to be over. “Come on. Hurry up you malfunctioning piece of tin-can.”
Panties and a brasserie were first. Caden was no expert, but they looked old-fashioned to him. White with a pearly silken sheen. The straps were wide. Not a modern - or sexy - cut at all. Of course, the garments fit perfectly. Caden refused to be grateful as the brassiere closed and the cups gave his large fake breasts proper support. And the panties only reminded him how trapped his genitals were. Could he even go to the restroom like this?
His pedicured and painted feet were slowly inserted into a sheer nude pantyhose. This might have actually felt nice, Caden reasoned. But this wasn't his skin the pantyhose glided upward over. It was the membrane that squeezed his legs. He couldn't see his encased legs for long as a loose white skirt was pulled out of a compartment and brought in his direction. As it came closer, he noticed the many red roses stitched onto the skirt. It was a simple motif, but one that elevated the skirt even more into the realm of femininity.
Getting him into the top was a nightmare. The chosen one was dark blue with long sleeves and a wide red trim at the neckline. The machine - and the rowdy kids' protocol- didn't trust Caden with dressing himself. Granted, if he would have spotted an opportunity to escape, Caden would have taken it. Hence his arms were guided by a small army of robotic tentacles. All without nicking the soft material of the top.
Caden wondered what torturous garment would be next. Maybe a cardigan or a sweater? Instead, the machine squeezed his legs into ankle boots with a small kitten heel, before announcing: “Applying makeup and styling hair.”
A groan escaped him. Hadn't he endured enough? Wasn't he feminized to perfection? Apparently not, as the machine arrested his head so it could work on his face and hair without Caden interfering. Brushes worked to apply powders to his face, while different brushes and combs tamed his now longer hair. He repeatedly heard the hiss of hairspray while red lipstick was applied. The whole procedure didn't take long, but Caden felt even further humiliated. Each minute he spent inside this machine, he departed further and further from his usual self.
“Styling completed.”
Caden's head was released. Without a mirror, he didn't know what had been done to him. But his hair had been styled into something elaborate. He felt it shift around his neck when he looked around. It must have been pinned up, he reasoned. And then cascading down over his ears and neck. What a strange feeling. A single strand got free - or was supposed to be separate - and came into Caden's view. It was blond, pretty much straight, and transitioned into a big curl near his chin.
“Can I get out now?” Caden asked. His voice was close to a whine. An errant thought rattled through his brain. If he cried, would the makeup run?
“Thank you for choosing the auto-closet by BetterU Incorporated-” For a moment, hope filled Caden. Then the computer voice crushed it in a merciless chipper tone. “And opting into the premium features.”
Premium features? Magic? Caden resumed his fight. Digging deep into his core to find the energy. Throwing every inch of strength he had against the robotic appendages that held him. This was bad news. Prosthetics came off. But if what he knew of the premium features was true, magic would go a step further. The prosthesis wouldn't just fuse to him. They would become part of his flesh and blood. He would become what he appeared to be: a full-blooded woman!
He strained. Fought. Flexed. Nothing helped. Worse. He felt a tingling feeling flooding his body. Followed by warmth. And then, he felt it. The pantyhose glided sensually over his skin. The bra cupping his breasts and the breasts that were being cupped. The fabric of the skirt shifting over his legs. What he didn't feel anymore was his member tightly compacted by the membrane. He felt different down there. Altered. And Caden knew. He had become a she.
Caden barely noticed that the robot arms set her down on the floor. The chipper voice thanking her further for using the services of the auto-closet was a murmur in the background. Caden was shocked. Stunned. The realization of what happened flooded her and drowned out every other thought. The door opened and she stumbled out on wooden legs without really registering it.
“Caden? Is that you?” Strong hands gripped her by the shoulder. Steadying her as she swayed slightly on her feet. Nathan looked as concerned at her as she felt panicked and overwhelmed. “I saw the machine glitch and tried to get you out, but it didn't budge.”
For a moment, Caden hesitated. She wanted to tell Nathan everything. All the machine has done. What it had taken from her. Instead, she buried her face in Nathan's muscular chest and started to cry. It felt good doing so, she had to admit. Somehow, she felt safe.
As Caden calmed down, she noticed that Nathan towered over her. He hadn't always been so tall. Did he grow taller? No, the machine had taken even more from her. It must have happened at the last moment. When magic had swept over her. Yet another thing they had robbed of her.
“Sorry.” Caden pushed away from Nathan. Even though part of her didn't want to. She was a man. Deep down, she still was a man, right? Man didn't break down like this. Revealed how much they are hurt. “I am okay now.” Caden tried to muster up a brave face. “Everything was just overwhelming, you know?”
“Okay?” Nathan sounded angry, but not at Caden. To her relief. “Piece of garbage. What had BetterU built us here? This is unacceptable. Don't worry. We will get you back to your usual self.”
Right then and there, Caden felt a strong impulse to kiss him. But that was wrong. Caden had always been into women. Now, she had doubts this was still the case. It shouldn't be right that they not just dictated his physical gender, but her sexual orientation too. Had they screwed with her mind?
“They better fix me!” Caden said after finding some fighting spirit again. It was slightly ruined by a pout, but she didn't let that deter her. She walked over to a box of flyers. The very same one she had installed not an hour ago. “Please leave a review,” she read aloud and showed Nathan the flier. “They want a review? I'll get them a review they won't forget. And I may get a lawyer. See if they like that.”
While Caden was on fire, Nathan kept his cool. “I don't think we will reach someone in the middle of the night. Maybe we should go home. Get some sleep and in the morning, try to get someone from BetterU on the line. Maybe they can fix it. Must have been a glitch, right? Maybe they can find the error and patch it out.”
“You are right.” Caden deflated a little. More as she realized that if they went home, she would be alone. To face whatever lay in front of her on her own. “This sounds silly but, can I stay with you? I don't think I want to be alone right now.”
There was hesitation on Nathan's part. But when he spoke up, he was strong and reassuring. “Of course. My apartment isn't far. I can take the couch. No worries. But, first-” Nathan grabbed a sheet of paper and wrote that the machine was defective. Pinning it to the auto-closet with duct tape. “We don't want to have others stumble into the same mess.”
Caden gave a nod. She might have been a bit lazy in her job before, but she knew Nathan was dependable. Always thinking of others. It was something she could appreciate. But only now, she really valued it. Nathan was a great guy. And he looked good too. The last thought brought a blush to her face.
Together, they tidied up. Loading their toolboxes and stuff on a small trolley. Caden wondered if her tools had always been this heavy, but Nathan was there as she struggled. Then, they walked out. Neither saw that the auto-closet came alive. It detected “vandalism” and deployed microscopic robots to clean it up. They ate away at the adhesive of the tape and seconds later, Nathan's written note fell to the floor.
Halfway to the exit, a glimpse of a sight made Caden stop. It was her reflection in one of the shop windows. A little hesitant, but curious, she stepped closer. This was the first time she saw what the machine had done to her. It was still her face from before. But noticeably more feminine. With understated make-up. Her outfit looked modest but very womanly. Especially the white flowing skirt with roses.
She spied small pearl earrings on herself. Caden had already forgotten the fact that her ears had been pierced too. In the turbulent events, such a small detail had slipped between the cracks of attention. Or did it already feel natural to her? The hair was a sight too. Piled up on her head and then fell down at the side and back. A classical bouffant hairstyle. That she knew what it was called worried Caden. The hairstyle - and her clothes - looked like from an era long before she was born. This shouldn't be knowledge she'd possessed. Yet, it was there. In the back of her mind. How much had the machine added or altered? At least, she looked cute, Caden decided. Then she immediately felt ashamed at the thought.
Nathan had waited patiently when Caden returned. “Everything alright?”
Caden gave a brave smile. “In a few hours, it will be. Hopefully.”
Chapter 2 - An Angry Letter
Chapter 3 - Party Pooper
Ranjeet schooled his face. He wanted to appear somber. A last check. His lab coat sat well and his necktie was straight. A deep breath and he pushed through the double doors.
Over forty co-workers waited for him. Their looks were intense. It was eerily quiet as he made his way into the middle of the room. There, he cleared his throat and addressed his subordinates.
“I met with the board.” That in itself was superfluous. Everyone knew where Ranjeet had been the last two hours. “We reviewed the progress of the last few months together. There had been questions, yes. We all know that adjusting patented pre-existing technologies of BetterU Incorporated for new dimensions is always tricky. Not just the physical constants might be different, but the magical constants too. As such, the board has reviewed our progress over the last months and-”
Ranjeet paused. The room was filled with nervous anticipation. Finally, he allowed himself to smile. “We have to go ahead to start production on the auto-closet. Effective immediately. Congratulations to everyone. We are the department of this BetterU subsidiary that managed first to get a product approved. I hear they might even throw a few bonuses around.”
Halfway through his reveal, Ranjeet had to start shouting. Cheers erupted. There was a bang of two champagne bottles opened. The forty-something highly trained technician transformed from propper workers to party animals in bare seconds. A small snowstorm of confetti erupted around him. The glimmer of lights clued him in that they were probably made with magic. Or at least, transported into the air with magic.
They had worked hard the last few months and it was time to celebrate. Ranjeet loosened his tie, before slipping it off and throwing it into the dancing crowd. He took an offered champagne glass and slurped at it while co-workers congratulated him. Of course, this hadn't been a single-person effort and Ranjeet made sure to return every cheer and congratulation.
Celebrations of BetterU employees were always something to behold. Normally, all kinds of magical and technological knickknacks would be used to get the fun starting. But BetterU was new in this dimension. This subsidiary was still finding its footing. As such, the body suit department was the only group able to contribute to the gadget fun. They had been the strongest rival of the auto-closet team. But they were good sports. Sending three of their members over in body suits that were sure to start an orgy.
Ranjeet sighed. Working for BetterU Inc. sure was something. Good pay and great benefits. As long as one didn't screw up, everything was good.
As if the very thought had jinxed it, Ranjeet heard his name shouted. “Doctor Pusapati! Doctor Pusapati! I need to speak with you!” A few took up his last name as a chant, but Ranjeet wasn't wasted enough to not hear the urgency in the voice. He fought through the crowd and arrived at a small man who nervously looked around.
“I am Doctor Ranjeed Pusapati,” he introduced himself. Shouted really to be heard over the cacophony of the party. He eyed the party crasher. This wasn't a lackey from the board. But he had the laminate of BetterU. “What is it? Can't it wait? We are celebrating.”
“Earnest Connard,” the man introduced himself. “Media department. We have reviews!”
“Reviews?” Ranjeet frowned. “What do you mean reviews? We haven't released anything yet. We didn't even manufacture a single product.”
“That's why I am here!” Earnest looked deeply uncomfortable. He probably knew he would ruin the celebration. “There are reviews for the auto-closet. Real ones. I know it shouldn't be possible, but there is evidence.”
This shouted discussion was ridiculous. Ranjeet grabbed the man by the sleeve and steered him to his office. Closing the door, he could at least talk without shouting.
“This better not be a prank.” Ranjeet walked to his computer and woke it up. “Show me.”
“About twelve hours ago, a review site for the auto-closet popped up,” Earnest explained while taking over from Ranjeet and typing in a website address. “We only noticed now as the first reviews arrived. The site itself is not by us, but it uses our web technology. Down to the T. And the reviews. They are legit. They claim BetterU released early promotional booths. Booths that are now malfunctioning.”
Ranjeet browsed through the few reviews that were already posted. One stood out. Someone named Caden had provided before and after pictures. In the latter one, the feminized Caden looked surprisingly chipper. Especially since the review was very negative. If even half of it was true, BetterU was in big trouble. Even more so Ranjeet and his team.
“What's described should be impossible.” Before Earnest protested, Ranjeet explained. “First, the changing of the target outcome. We have multiple safety measures to check for this very possibility. There was never a problem with them in our prototypes. And we triple-checked. Again and again. Every time we added a feature, we made sure the basic safety functions were not compromised. And this-” Ranjeet pointed at the second half of the review. “That sounds like mental changes. A feature we haven't included yet. Even in the prototypes.”
“It's sabotage,” Earnest concluded. “Or fake booths that they just say it is ours.”
While they talked, more reviews arrived. All complaining about the same topics. Ranjeet knew what to do. Even though he loathed the very thought of it. With determined steps, he exited his office. Not bothering to check if the guy from the media department followed. His target was close by. A big red button. One that Ranjeet pressed without hesitation.
A blaring alarm cut through the party. Dancing scientists stopped on the spot. The music cut off only a few seconds later. Even the three orgies disentangled within a minute. Once Ranjeet had everyone's attention, he pulled out the button and the alarm stopped.
“I hate to ruin the mood,” Ranjeet spoke up before anyone stupid enough could restart the party. “We have an emergency. It appears that several auto-closet booths have been installed in various parts of the North American continent. According to witnesses, they are ours. I know. I know.” He held up his hands before anyone could protest. “We haven't even begun production. Yet these auto-closets are out there and they are malfunctioning. We need to get on top of it. Before the situation worsens.”
Ranjeet waved forward and thankfully Earnest got the hint. “This is Mister Earnest Connard. Media department. They found a website that resembles ours where people can post reviews to these auto-closets. At first glance, the site appears to be ours. Even I can't spot anything wrong with it. This means at least a leak in our internal network.”
“Sinclair!” Ranjeet pointed at the co-worker who might look the least disheveled. “Run to security. Get them involved. We probably need an internal audit and-” A collective groan made Ranjeet wince. “I know. I know. No one wants an internal witch-hunt. But the facts remain. Chances are someone from BetterU Inc. is involved.”
He consciously avoided looking at the three volunteers from the body-suit department. Yes, they had been the strongest rival of Ranjeet's own group. But everyone with half a brain cell would know that this would impact them all negatively. And while BetterU didn't hesitate to hire people with less than stellar personal moral codes, they didn't hire fools either.
“McDaniels!” Ranjeet turned to an older woman. She was one of his right-hand men. Or right-hand gal in this case. “Grab your team and comb those reviews. I already spotted a few features of these auto-closets that don't match ours. Compile a feature list based on the reviews. Then evaluate if it could be ours with modifications or if those auto-closets are externally built. If they are from a competitor, we might pin down the most likely suspects.”
“Woodworth!” A young man stepped forward. Ready to hear orders from Ranjeet. “Get down to manufacturing. See if anyone did some midnight tinkering. Check if parts are missing and so on. Everyone else, get busy.”
Suddenly, Ranjeet felt like in the middle of a brewing storm. Not just his subordinates who broke into activity around him. This was bigger than his department. Someone had targeted BetterU Inc. itself. And he had a feeling that this was just the beginning.
Chapter 4 - A Midnight Stroll
Chapter 5 - Mind Your Worries
Chapter 6 - A Meeting About Cheating
Kayode let his gaze roam over the board members. Vultures. All of them. Spies for the movers and shakers of the home office. Why had he accepted this position? Becoming the CEO of a BetterU subsidiary had sounded good. That's why. Even when the subsidiary was in a backwater dimension with high physical and medium-low magical constants. Now, he had a cluster-fuck of epic proportions on his hand.
His migraine throbbed and he doubted the two men before him would help get rid of it. It would probably only worsen. To the right was Ranjeet Pusapati. The lead developer for the auto-closet project. As much as Kayode wanted to blame the man, he wasn't at fault here. In fact, he had been quick to react and tried to get the situation under control.
The same couldn't be said for Arnold Burnett. The security chief of this subsidiary. It had been his responsibility to prevent exactly what had happened. The burly man - usually very self-assured - kept shifting nervously from one foot to the next. It had been his security plan that had failed. Granted, Kayode had signed off on the said plan. But if push came to shove, Kayode would make sure the security chief took the fall.
The CEO eyed them both before giving them both his best office-appropriate growl. “Two weeks since the incident. Where are we? Do we know if it is an internal or external threat?”
“Internal,” both men said immediately. The security chief a little later and made up for it by being louder.
Unfazed, Ranjeet calmly continued before Arnold could spin the whole mess to pin it on him. “The machines in question are the twenty-five internal prototypes we used for testing. As it is protocol, each prototype was transferred to a secure warehouse. Pending destruction upon completion of a finalized design. However, it appears the transfer was intercepted, rerouted, and the prototypes were upgraded.”
Kayode fixed his gaze upon Arnold and stated the obvious. “This should not have been possible. How was it?”
Surprisingly, the security chief straightened up. For once, Arnold appeared to grow a spine. “Internal sabotage. However, the fault lies not with our established security protocols. We traced the rerouting back to an audit account belonging to the home office of BetterU. We just received confirmation from home that this account is fraudulent. There is a spy and rather than infiltrating us locally, it happened at the home office.”
That was awfully convenient, Kayode thought, but kept it to himself. Compromised authentication from the home office could indicate internal strife. Maybe a move for power in the upper ranks. However, Kayode doubted it. He also wasn't willing to let Arnold simply slip from the hook.
“The authorization codes are from back home. But they were applied locally? Is there still a spy among us?”
“Yes.” The answer came promptly. Giving the security chief a little more credibility despite the bad news. “They were used recently. Five days ago to be exact. We monitored our employees discreetly. No leaves of absence or altered behavior since then. The conclusion is that whoever is behind the sabotage still hides among our staff.”
Kayode started tapping his pen on the desk. Not the fast tapping that betrayed nervousness. Slow and deliberate. Like the small impacts of a hammer. “Can you at least narrow down the window of infiltration? A month ago? Two? Recruited locally or from the home office?” On purpose, Kayode added a tinge of annoyance to his voice. Just to keep the security chief off kilter. It was obvious that most of these questions couldn't be answered until the spy was caught, but the CEO had to add pressure. Instead of faltering, Arnold surprised him again.
“After reviewing the findings of Doctor Pusapati, we believe this plan - and the spy - were in play even before this subsidiary was established.” Arnold indicated for the doctor to take over.
“The machines we retrieved display features we haven't implemented yet. Worse, features we haven't even started on yet.” The good doctor lifted a clipboard and appeared to be reading aloud while continuing. “Most prevalent is the ability to alter the mind and add compulsions. As well as behavior. Users of these machines display behavior in line with traditional housewives of the mid-last century. In addition, they have a strong urge to settle down and procreate. The time frame of adjusting these features to the local constants of this dimension suggests that there had been research done before we even arrived in this dimension.”
“Coming here. It's been a trap?” The very thought left an ashen taste in Kayode's mouth. This incident kept getting worse and worse. Now, it appears to be a targeted attack on BetterU with extensive insider information. The perpetrators either knew BetterU was coming to this dimension or even more horrifying, they manufactured it. “Speaking of the machines. Have they now all been retrieved? We are bleeding credibility as long as they are out here.
Finally, a question struck home and Arnold visibly grew nervous again. “We managed to retrieve half. Various local groups appear to have taken the opportunity to snatch a machine or two. Most appeared to be absconded by criminal enterprises, but one might be acquired by the local government. The matter isn't helped by the fact that none of these machines have their trackers active. The silver lining is that they are out of the reach of the general public.”
Kayode kept tapping his pen. When Arnold tried to add something, the CEO told him to remain quiet with a simple gesture. This was a fiasco and he needed time to think. Kayode didn't need to turn around to know the board members were staring at him. Vultures. Ready to pounce if he slipped up.
Having made up his mind, Kayode addressed Ranjeet. “Doctor Pusapati. Your highest priority now is to examine those retrieved prototypes. Every step of goodwill we will try to make will fail if we can't fix their altered minds. Even if we return their bodies to normal, their minds will tell them differently. In short, we would create a whole bunch of trans-women. Let me remind you, BetterU Incorporated was founded in part to end the plight of trans-men and trans-women by fulfilling their dream. We won't go back. Throw your team at the problem. You may even request personnel from other projects if they might prove useful. Dismissed.”
Ranjeet gave a bow. “Of course, Mister Odili”
Kayode waited until Ranjeet had left before addressing Arnold again. “Mister Burnett, I take it the ongoing trouble we have with our communications is part of our troubles with the spy? We appear to be unable to send messages that aren't deleted or altered. We really need to give a statement that goes beyond ‘no comments at this time’. It is just throwing kindling onto the fire. Select a few trusted people. Coordinate with the media department and get couriers out with a gosh darn press release.”
Arnold eagerly nodded. Probably because orders meant that he wasn't axed from his position. At least, not yet.
“As for the spy,” Kayode continued. “We keep their existence on the down low. Revealing this information might raise confusion among the staff. Worse yet, the spy might cover their tracks better. Keep doing the security audit, but let's hope our spy messes up and reveals themselves by accident.”
“Yes, sir. Mister Odili, sir.”
Kayode waved the security chief away. Now, it was up to his staff. A thought that didn't sit well with him. Kayode needed a backup plan if everything else fell apart. But not right now. There was still time.
With a heavy sigh, he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He was alone in the room, save for his secretary, Cherry Suckton. He heard the slight clicking of her high heels as she walked around. Instead of asking stupid questions or pestering him with additional troubles, he heard her sliding down to her knees. A moment later, he felt the zipper of his pants being undone.
Even in times like these, it was good to work for BetterU Incorporated. And Cherry was fantastic giving a little oral encouragement.
Chapter 7 - Out-Gothed
Reviewer: MidnightBlossom
Chapter 8 - An Old-Fashioned Is Still Best
This was not the kind of neighborhood Landon usually frequented. Neither was the bar he aimed for. The entrance was flanked by two bouncers with broad shoulders and bulging muscles. Their very silhouette told everyone it was better to not mess with them. Barely concealed firearms told anyone perceptive enough that they weren't ordinary bouncers. Same for the bar. Everyone knew this establishment was run by the mob.
Both bouncers glanced at Landon but didn't stop him from entering. He had the genetics and the height to rival them. If only he would spend a modicum of effort on his physique. But that was the last thing Landon wanted. Apparently, this was evident enough and bought him entrance.
The bar itself could have been a cut-out of an Irish bar from any Hollywood movie, but it was surprisingly clean and well-maintained. Landon made a point not to look at the other patrons or their dealings. Aiming straight for the bar counter instead.
The barkeeper looked wrong in this establishment. The twenty-something might have fit in more at a trendy bar downtown with his roguish charm and boyish looks. He gave a nod as Landon sat down on a stool. “Let me guess,” he opened before Landon could say anything. “I am good at guessing the perfect drinks. For you? How does an old-fashioned sound?”
Now, this was what Landon had expected. “A very old-fashioned,” he corrected. “Something around fifty to sixty years old.”
“Gotcha.” The barkeep casually threw a towel over his shoulder and turned towards the passage deeper into the pub. “Follow me. The boss had been expecting you.”
That caught Landon by surprise. “I was?”
Mister young and handsome chuckled without turning around. “Our old-fashioned is quite famous, you know. Many envy our secret ingredient. So, those who had an old-fashioned give us a heads up if someone asks for a referral. That's why we knew you were coming, Landon Everett. And that you ain't police.” He knocked on a door and after a short shout from inside, he let Landon in.
“Here for an old-fashioned, eh?” This was the mob boss, Landon guessed. He looked like one. The rhetorical question was immediately followed by one that wasn't. “You have the money?”
A little hesitant, Landon pulled out the small stack of bills. Placing it on the table. “Five thousand. In twenties. As requested.” It had been a pain in the ass to gather as many bills without raising suspicion.
“Alright.” The boss stood up and indicated for Landon to follow. They left the bar through underground passages and Landon was quickly lost. The mafioso used the time to explain a few things. “If anyone asks, you used the machine on the first day at the Mall De Palma in East Miami. We have arranged for witnesses to have seen you. As you know, the result will be something along the lines of a housewife from the nineteen-sixties. But you can influence the outcome. The prompt you give to the machine. The closer it is to its supposed glitched state, the better it works. You know it will screw with your head?”
“I heard,” Landon confirmed while having trouble keeping up. With his long legs, he should be faster. But because of the low ceiling, he had to hunch over to follow. “Some is kind of iffy, but I've made my peace with it. Could be worse.”
“Good. So far, we haven't had any complaints.” Then the mafioso chuckled. “Well, at least not after.”
They arrived in a large underground room. It would have been spacious if it wasn't for the auto-closet set up in the middle. With it, the room felt cramped.
“Over there is the panel for the options. You got fifteen minutes to set it up and jump in.” While explaining, the boss took out a cigar and cut off the head. He lit it up and took a few puffs before adding: “What are you waiting for? I ain't got all day.”
Landon didn't need a second invitation. He squeezed past the man and tapped the panel of the auto-closet awake. Fifteen minutes was not a lot. Landon could spend hours customizing his new avatars in role-playing games. For what it was worth, the menu was very intuitive and streamlined. It barely took Landon ten minutes before he gave a satisfying nod. All was set. There was only one thing to do. The last step was to first step inside. With a racing heart, Landon entered the auto-closet.
A soft female voice greeted him. “Welcome to the auto-closet. An exclusive product by BetterU Incorporated. You have selected a casual female outfit for a walk in the park. Midday. Calculating the best appropriate outfit. Requested extra: premium features and height reduction.”
Landon nearly giggled. The machine is still proclaiming to be by BetterU Incorporated. Maybe. Maybe not. Landon didn't care. Instead, he followed the instructions. First, he undressed. The machine helped to clean him up. Then, prosthetics were applied. Landon was a little disappointed that the chosen breast forms and hip pads weren't very large. With his tall build, it would look like the endowments of a pubescent girl. But he had to trust the process, right? He had to admit, that the prosthesis for his crotch was uncomfortable, but hopefully that wouldn't matter for long.
At the behest of the machine, he stepped into a hop with a thin membrane of some liquid in it. Being coated with the material felt strange, but Landon vowed to endure.
“Now applying premium features.”
He felt the magic wash over him and suddenly, everything changed. Was the room growing? No, the machine shrank him. That wasn't right either. Shrank her. Landon was no more. Finally, she was Emma. In reality. Not just in her games.
The result wasn't what she had expected. Her “assets” were modest. And she was bald. Maybe she had chosen something wrong at the start? This couldn't be it.
“Applying prosthetics,” the machine announced for a second time. Startling Emma who nearly jumped back as new enhancements for her descended from the ceiling.
Her small pubescent breasts fit perfectly inside a chest shield that was three times the size. Now, this was more like it. Emma approved. While distracted, the machine went ham on her tights and hips. Looking down, she guessed she would have the perfect childbearing hips and a butt to die for. Not what she would have chosen herself, but now that she saw it, she kind of liked it. Maybe that was already the machine influencing her mind. Not that Emma cared. She knew it would happen before stepping into it.
The last step was a corset that squeezed her waist to waspish proportions. It was tight, but Emma knew she wouldn't have to endure it for long. The hoop descended again with the film of artificial skin. Without hesitation, she stepped into it and got coated once more. A wig came next. Long brown hair. Not unlike she had as Landon. But it never had been this long. Or luxurious. She couldn't wait for it to become part of her.
Just on cue, the machine announced: “Now applying premium features.”
Again, the room grew around her. Making Emma feel small. A first in her life. It elicited a giddy feeling within her. But this wasn't the only change. She admired her new body. Sure, the proportions were a bit exaggerated, but that would only help her, she decided.
“Please remain still for the application to proceed.”
Chastised, Emma stopped fidgeting around like a high-schooler on too many energy drinks. She quite enjoyed the pedicure and manicure the machine gave her. For the first time, she would be able to wear painted nails outside of her home. Without worrying about negative comments. She was looking forward to it.
It was a bit scary as many appendages started to crowd her face and hair. Makeup was applied. Not that Emma could see what the machine had chosen for her yet. To her surprise, her hair remained in a loose open style. Not the styled bouffant so many others reported. It was layered and a bit feathery.
Then she was clothed. Emma would have preferred dressing herself, but the machine was surprisingly efficient in applying white underwear. The bra was badly needed, Emma decided. She really had a lot up top. Her feet were guided into strappy sandals with a medium heel. Hopefully she could make them work without falling too often. Then, a dress descended down on her. It was white too with red dots. Those turned out to be red roses. It was a playful, yet innocent design. Perfect for a summer outing.
“Program complete. Thank you for choosing the auto-closet by BetterU Incorporated. Have a nice day.”
“I bet I will,” Emma replied to the disembodied voice. She was giddy with excitement. Finally! She was a real woman. Part of her wanted to strip off this dress and marvel at her new body. But she was a lady now. Such behavior wouldn't do.
Stepping out, Emma got an appreciative whistle from the mafiosi. “Someone turned out fine. And not the usual fair either. Good for you.”
Emma blushed at the compliments that followed as she was led back to the bar. Slipping out of the back rooms, the bar looked the same. Yet she was different. A fact underlined that she was openly checked out by the patrons. The only one who was a bit more covert in doing so was the barkeeper. Emma looked out to the darkness of the evening and had to admit that a light summer dress might not have been the best choice. Maybe she needed something else to warm her up first.
With surprising ease, she walked over to the bar and took a seat again. “Hello again. I think I'll have another drink.”
The barkeep raised an eyebrow. “Another old-fashioned?”
“Ah, no.” Emma gave him a mischievous smile as she straightened up. Giving the barkeep a good view of her new bosom. “The last one sits very well with me, don't you think? I was thinking of something lighter. More fruity.”
“A cocktail perhaps?”
Emma nodded. Surprisingly, for a mafioso bar, she did get a very decent cocktail. “My name is Emma, by the way,” she said as her drink slid over to her.
“Sean,” the bartender replied. Emma could see that he tried to remain neutral, but she could see his interest. “You know,” Sean continued after a few seconds. “You aren't the first customer after an old-fashioned to hit on me. Part of the programming, I guess. I am not really husband material.”
Emma hid a smirk by taking a sip of her drink. “How about boyfriend material?” The rest, she could change later, Emma decided. Sean was hers. She knew it in her bones. What woman didn't like a bad boy in their bed? And while she smiled at him, she idly wondered what their children would look like.
Scene 9 - Riding On
“Big Mike! Big Mike! Big Mike!”
Michael “Big Mike” Winston tried his hardest not to appear nervous as he exited the biker saloon while the gang chanted his name. There were quite a few new voices he could hear. And even some of the old ones sounded different. Big Mike's biker gang used to be smaller. A tight little outfit that sometimes dipped into the illegal.
He stopped in the middle of the street. Not that there was much traffic on the remote road. Now it was utterly blocked as the crowd closed in around Big Mike and his chosen opponent. Devon was a newcomer and had barely more than half of Mike's muscle mass. This should be an easy fight. Still, he was worried.
He glanced past the crowd to the small compound where they had hidden an auto-closet stolen from the mall a few months ago. That cursed thing had shattered Mike's peaceful life as a biker. They knew about the malfunction and it netted them some bucks as hopeful fools paid for the privilege to use it. Mike didn't mind as trans-women marched through that thing. But then, Chad had to dare Don to an arm-wrestling match. Loser would use the auto-closet. Chad might have regretted the bet. Charlene didn't. And Don? He got a wife out of it. Big Mike could see them among the crowd. Arm in arm. Rumor was that Charlene was pregnant.
The dares hadn't stopped. His original gang had lost a third of their members to womanhood when they started to expand to other gangs. The current members belonged originally to three gangs and they still had newcomers joining in. Like that Devon and his smirk.
Big Mike had enough. For months now, the gang had urged him to start a match. To claim a wife. He was the odd one out. By now, there weren't a lot of singles left. He was surrounded by happy couples. Big Mike didn't want to settle down. He liked the bachelor life. But if he didn't challenge someone to a match, he might lose all respect inside the gang. That, he couldn't have either.
A table with two pegs on top was carried out and placed between Big Mike and Devon. What the hell was Devon for a name anyway? That lad needed a proper bikername. That's what. Then again, it wouldn't matter in a moment.
Big Mike pumped his arms to get blood flowing and warm them up. The crowd cheered for him. Clearly, he was the favorite. But Devon was calm as he stepped to the table. “Ready?”
A snarl nearly escaped Big Mike. That pup needed to learn manners. He stepped to the table and got ready. Devon's smaller hand nearly vanished inside Mike's paw. Who won was a foregone conclusion.
Samantha stepped forward and laid her hands on the closed fists of the participants. Once, she had been just Sam. And the leader of Big Mike's gang. Now she was the arm candy of the new leader. But by tradition, it was she who counted down. “Three. Two. One. Fight.”
Big Mike was ready. Throwing his muscles into the match. Pushing steadily his opponent's arm down. But not down to the table. That ass was stronger than he looked. Giving nearly as good as Mike gave. It was a fight, alright. Mike nearly managed to push Devon down a few times, but the lad always recovered and pushed back until they were nearly neutral.
“You know the secret to a good arm wrestle?” Devon suddenly spoke up.
“Shut up,” Mike pushed out. His breath was short and he could feel the burn in his arm.
“Strength is important,” Devon casually continued. “But so are stamina and endurance.”
Big Mike couldn't believe it. This half-pint was pushing back. Mike was losing ground. Fatigue had set in. With horror, he realized that this was what his opponent had waited for. Steadily, he lost ground. His last stand was valiant and lasted all but ten seconds. And then Big Mike's arm slammed into the table.
The crowd was silent for a moment and then broke out in cheers. Devon was all smirks again. How Mike wished to wipe it off his face. But punching him would be bad. Worthy of being kicked out. As was chickening out of what was expected next. Big Mike really wanted to call it off. To walk away. But he would lose his face and all respect. Not to mention his membership in the gang. Today was not the day he would hand over his vest.
“Let's do this,” he grumbled as he took off for the auto-closet. The gang split in his wake but cheered louder. To them, it didn't matter who won.
Impatient, Big Mike waited at the entrance of the auto-closet. Pointedly not looking at the panel and what Devon typed in. Whatever it was, Mike knew he would exit as a woman. Styled and behaving approximately how a housewife from the sixties of the last century would do. By now, there was some knowledge of how to bend away from the enforced result of the glitch. But Mike wasn't too keen on what awaited him.
“After you,” Devon eventually said and pointed to the door of the auto-closet that had just opened.
“Why? You want to take a turn after me?” Big Mike didn't wait for that lad to find a fitting reply. At least, he had wiped that smirk off Devon's face.
Mike's transformation came in four parts. The first three were punctured by an application of “premium features”. Probably needed because of his large starting stature. The first part was the hardest. Uncomfortable and bordering on horror. The second was easier and Mike calmed down. Probably due to the fact that the point of no return was behind him. Well, her. The features weren't very womanly yet, but it was getting there. After the second application, Mike started to feel different. Suddenly looking forward to the final result. She hoped she would turn out fine. But what would she call herself? The former Mike thought long about it and it was only in the last phase that she decided. Linda. A classical name. Fitting for a woman of class.
Linda couldn't tell how long she had been inside. Judging by her mental state - and how happy she was with the outcome - her original mind had been twisted into a pretzel. But she had to admit, Devon had taste. She wasn't wearing some wifish dress like so many that had stumbled out of this machine. She wore sturdy boots, jeans overall, and a leather jacket. Not to mention a kerchief wrapped around her head. Less sixties housewife and more Rosie the Riveter. Not to mention that she was built like Rosie too. Not all muscles were stripped from her. In fact, she might be the strongest woman in the gang now. With that, Linda could live.
Stepping out, she pointed behind her. “Booth is empty if you want to take a spin.”
Devon gave her a smirk. No, smile. One quite fitting for someone this handsome. For the life of her, Linda couldn't remember why she had hated it before. She wouldn't mind seeing it more often.
“I am fine. Thanks.” Devon mimed tipping his hat. “You look fabulous. How may I address you?”
Linda was aware of how quiet the crowd around them was. It wasn't a fixed rule that those who had a match ended up together. But the majority did. They all wanted to know if she and Devon meshed.
“You can call me Linda.”
“I see. Very old fashioned, but nice.” That smile by Devon again. She could avoid a blush, but her legs felt a bit weak. “But as we are part of a biker gang, how about we shorten it a bit. How about it, little Lyn?”
“Fine, except-” Linda cuffed him good on the shoulder. “I am not so little.”
“Sure, lil’ Lyn. Sure.” Devon barely evaded the next punch. “And strong too. But strength isn't everything. Wanna wrestle again? See if you hold up better now?”
“Stamina and endurance, eh?” Quite quick, Linda grabbed Devon by the collar. Dragging him towards her chopper. “Sure, but how about we do some different kind of wrestling. In private. Then you can show me how long you last.”
“Yes, Mam’,” Devon dutifully replied. A smirk once again on his face.
Chapter 10 - Catching On
The alarm, that echoed throughout the BetterU compound, was deafening. Annoyed, Cherry hurried after her CEO, Mister Odili. This better not be a fire alarm practice. Though the sound blaring was wrong. Didn't matter. It interrupted Cherry while she had an important one-on-one meeting with Kayode. She didn't even have time to fix her lipstick. One look might clue everyone in that she had been sucking off her boss. Well, the thought of being found out actually got Cherry a little aroused. Not that now was the right time for it.
It was a minor miracle that Cherry could keep up with her boss as he stormed down the hallway. At least, to onlookers. Clutching a clipboard against her generous bosom, each step of her was punctured by the click of her long stiletto heels. And despite prim and proper office wardrobe - smudged lipstick aside - the first word anyone had on their mind when they saw Cherry was Bimbo. Granted, the short tight skirt and half-see-through blouse didn't help dissuade that notion.
“What is going on?” Kayode demanded to know as they came up to a security checkpoint. Arnold Burnett was there. The subsidiary's chief security officer.
How Cherry loved it when her boss was all no-nonsense. Dominating. Powerful. It nearly made her distracted enough to miss the reply.
“The mole fucked up. But it is a mixed success.” Arnold produced a tablet PC and showed it to Odili. Thanks to Cherry's towering heels, she could see it too over the shoulder of her boss. “That's Vincent McNeil. IT department. Unusual high-security clearance. We tracked some suspicious things back to his workstation. But we had to be sure. McNeil seems to be a plant. Local guy, but was hired directly by the main branch. Or so we believed. Took a few months to sync and verify our employment roster with the main office. They don't even have McNeil on file.”
“Good news.” The praise by Odili didn't sound very genuine. He pointed at the improvised security checkpoint. “What's this then and can you shut that damn alarm off?”
“Sorry, Sir, I can't.” The security chief looked uncomfortable, but stood his ground. “Someone tipped McNeil off or we stepped on a tripwire. He is in the wind, but we don't think he has left the building yet. With unknown resources at hand and given what we work on, he can't take anyone or any identity for granted. Hence we have to check everyone while we evacuate the building. Meanwhile, my teams are sweeping the floors. It is only a matter of time until we have him.”
As Arnold explained, Cherry studied the many researchers who went through the checkpoint. She recognized Rylee Stokes - a fellow secretary, but of a different department - as she walked through the checkpoint. It wasn't just a scan of her employee badge. Her retina was scanned. As were her fingerprints. Even her finger was pricked to get a blood sample.
“Do we know if McNeil worked alone?”
The question by her boss drew Cherry's attention back to the conversation.
“He was the only mismatch, but that doesn't rule out collaborators. McNeil could have hired someone locally or bribed his way through the company. Not to mention that there are ways to force compliance. Either by technology or magic. The saboteur already has displayed an aptitude in both.”
“Nail that bastard down and-”
“Let go of me!” The female shout made Cherry's boss stop and turn. So did she. A woman was dragged by security guards closer. It didn't take Cherry long to identify her. “I swear, I am the real me. My name is Rylee Stokes and I work in-”
“Shut up!” One of the security guards yelled before turning to Arnold. “Chief, we found her in one of the offices. She appeared to be unconscious but woke up when we entered. No ID on her and she refused a blood test.”
Before anyone could speak up, Cherry's giggle cut through the dense atmosphere. “Deja Vu. I could swear I saw Rylee just now. Getting through the checkpoint here.”
Cherry had to give kudos to the security chief. Arnold was quick on the uptake. Immediately speaking into his radio. “This is Burnett. Possible inner perimeter breach. The suspect might have assumed the identity of one Rylee Stokes. Stop her for questioning.” The call ended without any pleasantries and he turned to one of the guards that had escorted the secretary to them. “Get a soul scanner. Make sure this is the real Miss Stokes. We can probably rule out a magical transformation. That would have left a large magical afterimage. Our scanners would have picked that up. Given the time frame, probably a bodysuit. That would explain passing the other tests.”
Cherry wasn't sure who the explanation was for. Maybe to appear competent in front of the CEO? She didn't give a rat's ass. All she wanted was to get out and away from the still-blaring alarm. And maybe finish sucking off her boss Kayode.
Arnold listened to his earpiece for a few seconds and then cursed like a catholic schoolgirl. Well, it was pretty profane, but compared to what Cherry had heard before it was pretty tame.
“One Rylee Stokes had just left the compound. We missed her by seconds.” Another few curses followed. Probably just for good measure. “I am going after her, but I am low on manpower and there still might be collaborators.” The security chief went for his radio again. “I am going out with a hunting party. While I am gone, Miss Cherry Suckton is in charge. I repeat, Cherry Suckton of plan B is in charge.”
Cherry's vapid expression vanished and made way for anger. “Bastard!” The target of her ire had already left. It was doubtful he had heard her. That idiot just had blown her cover.
It was evident by how Kayode gaped at her. Life a goldfish out of water. “Y-you are plan B?”
“Yeah, I am more than a nice rack and world-class blow jobs,” she admitted while patting Kayode patronizingly on the shoulder. “Don't take it personally. Nearly all new subsidiaries get a plan B complement. At least for the first few years.”
Plan B - often nicknamed Plan Bimbo - was a rumored subdivision of BetterU Inc.'s security branch. No one suspected a walking sex doll to be an internal corporate spy. BetterU was famous for supplying sexed-up airheads to their corporate holdings. What some people overlooked was that there were a few women who liked to play dumb and sexy, while being mental powerhouses. Women like Cherry, who probably earned twice as much as Kayode Odili. She had all the skills and knowledge a CEO needed. How else would she make sure her charge would stay on the straight and narrow. But her sexy figure and top-notch whoring skills made sure targets lowered their defenses.
“Chantal. Desiree. Meet me in the lobby.” Cherry didn't need some silly radio. Her body was stuffed with more than silicone. Namely high-powered implants.
Cherry had walked a few steps when she heard a weak “What about me?” behind her.
With a sigh, she stopped and turned around. “You? Just look pretty and don't mess anything up. As it stands, your carrier might survive this cluster-fuck. If not? Well, you do have a nice dick. One that I like to suck. Maybe you can become my boy toy. But now, shush. I've got work to do.”
Not sparring Kayode another glance, Cherry walked out. With regret, she reasoned she wouldn't finish that blow-job after all. Men's pride can be easily hurt and she doubted Kayode would forget that she wasn't just a slutty secretary. Which she was. Slutty that is. It took a special kind of gal to work for Plan B. “Stupid Arnold,” she muttered under her breath. “Blowing my cover like that. Just wait until I get my hands on you. BetterU can always use a good new Bimbo.”
Chapter 11 - Silver Linings
Scene 12 - Too Late
Cherry tapped her pen on the table. There was a frown on her face and she worried it might leave wrinkles. That's why she preferred the role of Bimbo secretary over being an actual shaker and mover. Too much stress. It's been twenty-four hours since the saboteur escaped. Not much later, Arnold Burnett had gone radio silent. No one had heard or seen the security chief since then.
“At least, we caught him. Finally!”
Cherry turned to Kayode who sat nearby in one of the other boardroom chairs. He was fine as a CEO in peacetime and good as a lover. But throw a crisis his way and he falls apart.
Catching Vincent McNeil in the disguise of one Rylee Stokes hadn't been as hard as Cherry had feared. In fact, her hunting teams had located the traitor just hours after their escape. Cherry had delayed the apprehension. Hoping to see if McNeil made contact with anyone. No such luck.
Silently - over her implants - she messaged Chantal. Her second in command. “Any news on Arnold?”
“Still missing,” came as a reply seconds later.
Of course, there wasn't. Just asking betrayed how nervous Cherry was feeling herself. Something stank and she had a bad feeling. It slowly eroded her confidence.
Just then, Desiree returned with three BetterU security guards. In the middle of the quartet was one Rylee Stokes. She looked different. Gone was the secretary look and she wore nondescript casual clothes. Good for blending into crowds. But not good enough to evade Cherry's teams.
“Soul scan confirms it is not Rylee Stokes,” Desiree opened without preamble. “But something blocks a clear read.”
“Strip her,” Cherry ordered.
Of course, Rylee had plenty to say. How she was the real Rylee. That there had been a mistake. Her protest about being stripped fell on deaf ears.
“A seam,” Desiree remarked. “A body suit for sure.”
“Well, let's get Mister McNeil out of her,” Cherry ordered casually and calmly. Despite feeling like neither.
Except that, once the bodysuit’s seam was popped, not a Vincent McNeal was peeled out of it. Instead, a very confused-looking Arnold Burnett emerged. “Why am I a man? This isn't right. What did you do to me?”
“I don't understand,” Kayode spoke up. “When did McNeil switch with Burnett? Was he ambushed?”
“No. No. No.” It made perfect sense to Cherry, who groaned as she realized how badly they had been outplayed. “McNeil knew our security inside and out. Even the presence of Plan B operatives. In order to extract himself, he needed a decoy. One that knew our security protocols too in order to evade longer. Look at him. Burnett still thinks he is Rylee. No, NcNeil was one step ahead. Brainwashed Arnold to believe he was Miss Stokes and put him in a bodysuit. The real McNeil was in a bodysuit too. Of Arnold. No one screened him as he left the building in the hot pursuit of the supposed saboteur. Then it was easy to slip our grasp.”
“But I am Rylee!” Arnold insisted as Desiree led him away. It would take some time to deprogram him. Depending on the method, he might never be fully the Arnold Burnett they had known again.
“So, now that we know McNeil is in the bodysuit of Arnold-”
Cherry gave a hard humorless laugh as Kayode spoke up. “Don't bother. It's been a day. Who knows? McNeil might have more bodysuits. He is gone. I doubt we will be able to pick up his trail. We have to face the truth. This was a loss. All we can do is curtail any more damage to the image of BetterU. That and hope HQ will be merciful when this is all over.”
Yes, this was a shitshow. Whoever that McNeil was, he better run and hide in the deepest darkest corners of the multiverse. For Cherry wouldn't rest until she had him cowering at her feet.
Epilog - Tying Up Loose Ends
“Hello?” Vincent poked his head into the dusty warehouse. It was filled with junk and old furniture. Lazily covered with tarps. It looked like the last stop of ten attics that had been cleaned out.
“In here,” a female voice shouted from a far corner away.
Finally, Vincent would learn who hired him. For over two years, he had been deep undercover. Sabotaging the newest subsidiary of BetterU Inc. from the inside. He liked to think of himself as a professional, but whoever had hired him had a deeper insight into the company than he had thought possible. Codes and secrets that Vincent never would have gotten his hands on. Not to mention the warning about a secret task force called Plan B that disguised themselves by acting as dizzy bimbos.
Vincent saw the gate first. A trans-dimensional portal that was quite large. The sight relaxed him. If anything of the plan had really worried him then the fact that he hadn't known how he would escape this dimension. Portals could be detected and traced. Especially in a world like this with low trans-dimensional traffic. But this one looked chunky not by lack of sophistication, but by additions that would make it harder to track.
“Mister McNeil.” A woman in her late twenties greeted him. Offering her hand. Vincent needed a moment to take her in. The dark blue hair certainly was unusual. At least compared to the locals. She didn't look like he had imagined. Certainly not like the mastermind of industrial sabotage.
“A pleasure to meet you,” she continued. “My name is Cassandra. Excellent work, by the way. Well done.”
Vincent felt a little apprehensive at receiving the praise. “I am not sure it is warranted. BetterU is already doing damage control and smoothing things over with the local authorities. I hope you excuse me for saying so, but it feels like all we did was being a small speed bump.”
“On the contrary.” Cassandra gave him a bright smile that somehow reminded him of a shark. A very hungry one. “This battle here was never meant to be won. But for the first time in ages, someone drew blood from BetterU Incorporated. They are in a panic about how deep they have been penetrated. Paranoia is spreading. Accusations are being made. This will slow down their spreading to new dimensions. Now, they will triple-check everything before they commit to any new subsidiary.”
The malice in her voice surprised Vincent. “It may not be right to ask this - being a hired contractor - but it sounds like it is personal.”
“It is.” She brushed a few purple strands of hair out of her face. Hadn't it been blue just a moment ago? Before Vincent could dwell on it, Cassandra threw him a curveball. “What do you think, Mister McNeil? Would breasts that fill H-cups look good on me?”
Vincent frowned. Was this a trick question? Bigger was better in his opinion, but H-cups were large, right? Maybe too large. Especially for someone with a lean figure as Cassandra had. “No, I honestly think that would be a bit much.”
“A little? It's a recipe for back pain!” The ferocity made Vincent take a cautious step back. But Cassandra wasn't done. “You know what they did? Those assholes of BetterU?”
Vincent took a hesitant shake of his head. It seemed to calm her down a little.
“So, imagine this. You are a small-time author who writes short stories in a certain niche. Let's say of a certain transformative variety. But you aren't really good at world-building. One day, you find the means to travel dimensions. There are plenty of good stories out in the multiverse. One just has to find them and bear witness. Then, of course, write it down.”
There was an awkward pause as Cassandra took a few breaths. Vincent eyed the redhead carefully. “How does BetterU play into it?”
“How? How? I'll tell you how!” At once, Vincent knew he had made a mistake speaking up. Cassandra went full force again. “It was only a matter of time. I specialize in stories with a little transformative twist. BetterU Incorporated focuses on mental and bodily transformations. It was only a matter of time before we ran into each other. At first, the interactions were friendly. As friendly as it can get with an over-bloated company scattered over a few thousand dimensions. I pointed out a few worlds I visited that might wait for a company like them and they pointed me to a few worlds with the kind of magic in it conducive to my writing process. All good. Until they hired me.”
Before Vincent could even get a word in, his pacing employer rambled on. “They told me: hey, you are from that and that dimension. We want to expand there. Would you like to write a few stories that highlight the good work we do? Pave the way for the subsidiary they wanted to open. And I thought: why not? Granted, I think they overestimated how large my audience was, but that's beside the point. I did my work and I expected them to pay up.”
“Except these-” Cassandra mimicked squeezing the air out of someone's throat. “Whiny little bastards. Suddenly the magic constant of my home dimension was too low and fickle and the physical constant was too high and unyielding. They blew the whole subsidiary off. And you know what they did instead of paying me? They gave me humongous tits. That's what they did. Except they never asked me if I wanted them. Instead, they tried to brainwash me into thinking that it was my desired payment. But they messed that up too. They made me think I always had H-cup puppies. So, I was confused. Why was I getting something as a payment that I already had? Took me a while to figure it out and reverse the brainwashing. And then? Then I got to planning my revenge! BetterU will rue the day they crossed me!”
Alright. Vincent decided that this little wannabe writer - who cheated to get her story ideas - was totally unhinged. Instead of taking the loss, Cassandra started a war against a powerful multidimensional cooperation that spanned thousands of subsidiaries. Not someone sane would do. Then again, her first strike had been a success of a kind. Speaking of, it was time for Vincent to get what he was owed.
“The lesson here is that for a job well done, one should be paid.” He hoped agreeing with her would keep the madness at bay. “I think we agreed on one hundred thousand trans-dimensional bucks for my efforts.”
“Right! Yes! Uhm.” Cassandra deflated a little. Looking around until her eyes fell on Vincent again. “I have the money ready. Not here, of course. You will get paid, but first I have to extract you to a world where they can't track you. Can't have you talking, you know.”
That sounded a little suspicious to Vincent, but there was some merit to it. He had no idea yet how to escape this dimension without BetterU snapping at his heels. The plan of a crazy person might be better than none at all. He pointed at the stealth portal. “I take it, that is our ride.”
“Yes, but there is more!” Cassandra looked around the scattered items before triumphantly holding up a flier. Handing it to Vincent.
“LARP World?” He asked after a cursory glance at the brochure.
“Yes! We use BetterU against BetterU. You see, LARP world is where they do real live-action role-playing. All save with illusion magic simulating the real thing. Set up to be accessed by mundane people. But here is the thing: you can be anyone! Bodysuits. Everyone is wearing one. From the participants to the hosts and hired actors. No one will bat an eye if we arrive in bodysuits and no one cares where we go after the event. Thousands of portals in and three days later thousands out. All anonymous and the best thing is: no one will notice if we take a different portal out than we took to get there.”
“That's kind of smart,” Vincent had to admit. Not bad for a crazy person. Though he wouldn't go so far as to call her a mad genius. “Where are those body suits?”
“Right here!” Cassandra heaved up a large crowbar. For a moment, he feared her taking a swing at him. Instead, she pried open a large crate. Triumphantly, she withdrew two female bodysuits. Elven, from what Vincent could see. One with big tits and the other nearly flat-chested.
Vincent blanched. “Why didn't you get a male one for me? I prefer to avoid female bodies if I can help it.”
Cassandra looked annoyed. “Last week, I had two male bodies. This week I have two female ones. If one books at the last minute, you get what you get.”
He wasn't happy, but Vincent had to admit Cassandra had a point. “Fine. I guess I can stomach one weekend as a woman.”
As he reached for the body suit of the flat-chested elf, Cassandra swatted his hand away. “Didn't I just tell you that I have trauma based on past experience with big tits? Even writing a whole serial only helped a little. You take that one.”
Even biting in lemons would result in less of a frown as Vincent now displayed. “This is getting worse and worse,” he mumbled under his breath, but dutifully grabbed the body suit. After a weekend in this, he might have a trauma too.
Cassandra wasn't shy about stripping and climbing into her body suit. He caught a last glimpse of her pink mane and then she became an elf. Blond, blue-eyed, and not much up top to speak about.
Vincent's was the opposite. She had long legs, he noticed as he stepped into the body suit. The butt was quite a bit larger than his own. Pulling the suit up to his waist, he definitely noticed the wide childbearing hips. Getting the suit over his shoulders was a struggle. Courtesy of the large endowment up top. In went his head and soon he looked out of green eyes and past a curtain of black hair.
“Here.” Casandra - already dressed - handed him some skimpy clothes. “Your role is that of Princess Mesyndia. On her way to her betrothed. Don't look so gloomy. It is just a role. You won't have to do anything you don't want to do. Just act snotty. Let two and a half days pass in relative comfort and then we can portal out.”
“Where I will get my money,” Vincent concluded. Damn, he sounded strange. All womanly and husky.
“I am a sucker for happy ends,” Cassandra replied instead of giving a straight answer. She stepped to a console beside the portal. “Ready?” On her command, space-time ripped open and gave a peek into a different world. Vincent saw a bright and sunny meadow. And Cassandra who took a bow. “Ladies first, my princess.”
Rolling with his eyes, Vincent stepped through. The world for the LARP gathering really was a little paradise. It wasn't too warm or cold. The weather was perfect too. Not a cloud in the sky. He could see lots of trees too. But no other LARPers.
“Is it far to the-” Vincent fell silent as he turned around and saw no portal. That was expected, but the absence of Cassandra was more worrying. “Cassandra? Hello?”
A rumbling alerted Vincent that he wasn't alone after all. A small green mound started to move. Then he could make out arms and legs. At last, a face with tusks in the corners of the mouth.
“Who dares wake up Bokborsch? Chieftain of the black river tribe! Show yourself!” And then, Bokborsch looked down on Vincent, who was easily two heads smaller. “Pretty little elf lady. Bokborsch doesn't mind being woken by you. You heard of Bokborsch?”
The orc - Vincent was pretty sure it was one - started to flex muscles. And what muscles they were. Huge and defined. Just the way Princess Mesyndia liked it.
Vincent shook his head. What was wrong with him? He wasn't into dudes. Especially big green ones. And for a moment he had slipped too easily into the role of Princess Mesyndia. That was worrying.
“Cassandra?” Vincent tried again. It wasn't even a shout. More a desperate whisper of a plea.
“Is that your name, little one?” Bokborsch inquired, while not even stopping to flex his muscles.
For a moment, Princess Mesyndia was mesmerized again. But Vincent snapped out of it. Was it a real or maybe one of the LARPers? And what was wrong with Vincent, that he was pinning for some stupid orc?
Vincent decided to play it safe for now. “No, my name is Princess Mesyndia.”
“A princess? I am a chieftain. That fits!” Bokborsch shouted out. It made nearby bushes shiver in fear. “Want to be my wife? We have lots of babies. Strong like me. Beautiful like you.”
Princess Mesyndia could already imagine it. Her belly big and round. Children - half-orc and half-elf - playing in the fields. A longing sigh escaped her lips. This time, it was harder for Vincent to come back to himself again.
That simple fantasy was worrying. He didn't want to be a woman. Or pregnant. Sure, he had a little pregnancy fetish. But on others! Maybe it was a prank by Cassandra? She had determined the stereotype the modified auto-closets had to enforce. But Vincent couldn't help himself and added a little mental twist. The need to procreate. The same need he now felt.
Vincent was about to give a nervous laugh when something else dawned on him. Quickly, he grabbed for his back. There was no seam. The body suit should have one, but he couldn't feel his. Either the body-suit had sealed permanently or this world didn't support the existence of magical body-suits. This meant Vincent was stuck in this ridiculous body and these nefarious urges!
He didn't need to ask why. The reason was quite obvious. Vincent was a loose end. Hadn't Cassandra admitted she couldn't let him fall into the hands of BetterU Incorporated? He was betrayed. The irony of it all wasn't lost on him.
“Princess sad?” Bokborsch asked. His voice was surprisingly soft. “I can make Princess happy. Make wife. Have lots of children!”
And then a new part of Bokborsch rose to the occasion. Lifting his loincloth and soon revealed itself in all its glory. It was the most magnificent dick Princess Mesyndia had ever seen. At once, she felt a fire in her own loins. Arousal flooded her. Thoughts about Cassandra or being Vincent escaped her. There was simply no space. Just a burning need.
Five minutes later, Mesyndia had been carried to the chieftain's hut and was busy getting the brains fucked out. Their lovemaking lasted for hours and as they parted, it was dark outside.
“Fuck you, Cassandra,” Mesyndia whispered as she snuggled against her new husband. But there was no fire behind it. Cassandra would have called it a happy ending. Vincent would have called it a betrayal and tying up loose ends. But both weren't there. Only Princess Mesyndia. And she already dreamt of the large family she would have.
The End
A word by the author.
Hello Readers.
In the last few years, I have been asked by quite a few people to do commissions. Now you know why I don't do that anymore. Past trauma. Burned fingers. Whatever analogy fits.
I hope this stops the many companies requesting collaborations. No, Bikini Beach, I am not going to write about your special upcoming Easter Egg hunt or the many wet t-shirt contests. No matter the offered sum or other ... benefits
And please, all of you who try to get me to advertise your Medallion of Zulo distribution. Cheap fakes with shoddy altered enchantments. And wasn't the purpose of the original Medallion of Zulo to be discovered randomly. So, don't try to bring me into your scams.
And for the love of the goddess, stop trying to hire me as a ghostwriter for memoirs. I am looking at you, SRU Wizard. Besides, didn't you already have someone who did it? Never mind. I don't wanna hear the answer.
So, yeah. I am not up for commissions. Oh, and another thing I probably have to include for legal reasons:
Disclaimer: Cassy_Bee is totally not traveling to different dimensions to retell real stories of people getting gender-bend without giving them royalties. I mean, multiversal travel is not a real thing. Totally.
Anyway. That's everything this time. Thanks for reading.
AND FUCK YOU BETTERU INCORPERATED!!!
Hugs and kisses,
Cassy
PS.:
This story was voted for by my readers on my discord.
If you want to influence what I write next join my discord server here: Cassy's Library
Chapter 1 - Setting Up
“And I am out,” Caden announced after the last few drops hit his tongue. “What about you?”
Nathan gave him an annoyed look. “I get it. Midnight shift. We both were drafted with barely any warning. Now we are out of coffee and the irony is that there are three coffee shops close by, but all are closed.”
Caden pointed behind him. “You know, I could-”
“Run to the break room at the other end of the mall?” Nathan let his hammer hit the floor with a solid thud and looked at his younger co-worker. What a difference five years could make. “Let me guess, the little coffee run would take about half an hour? Enough time for me to finish up. No skirting work. You volunteered for this extra shift. Now you have to deliver. And we are nearly finished anyway. So grab your stuff and get to it.”
“Yeah. Yeah.” Caden turned away so Nathan couldn't see his pout. Five years older and Nathan acted like he was his supervisor. Granted, Caden was new to the mall and pretty green behind his ears. Maybe that's why Nathan had easily seen through Caden's attempt to slack off.
The work itself wasn't hard. No matter how much Caden murmured to the contrary. It was some last-minute shipment arriving from BetterU Incorporated. He still couldn't believe it. Parallel universes were real. Even stranger, companies existed that opened up subsidiaries in new worlds. BetterU Incorporated was one of those and they recently announced their first product to be rolled out on Caden's world. Some kind of auto-closet that dresses one automatically with the press of a few buttons.
Eventually, these auto-closets would be in every home. So, they promised. But for now, they rolled out in malls and shopping arcades. Caden had thought it would take a few more months, but then a shipment arrived here. Hence the need to set up one auto-closet overnight.
“I need box thirteen and-” Nathan squinted at the instruction manual. “Privacy panel ten and eleven.”
Still grumbling, Caden fetched the indicated pieces. “Have you thought about using one?” he asked as he held up a panel for Nathan to screw onto the rest of the contraption. “An auto-closet, I mean. They do sound like they could save time.”
Nathan snorted. “The youth of today. I got two hands, don't I? Why would I need such a fancy device?”
“I am not lazy.” Caden ignored the pointed look by his co-worker. “And it isn't for daily use. At least, those first ones in the mall. Just imagine. Jump into one and five minutes later, you are suited up and ready for the opera. A tux that is measured to your body and cheaper than going to a tailor.”
“You? The opera?” Nathan bellowed a laugh. “That's rich.”
Caden rolled his eyes. “It's just an example. Not that I want to go to such a posh event. But I remember my prom night. How my mother fussed around. I would rather have jumped into one of these and get it done quickly.”
Nathan gave a playful slap and squeeze of Caden's shoulder. “Well, looks like you are now able to. I think that was the last piece connected. It's booting up and it looks ready to go.”
Indeed, they had finished up the last few tasks while ribbing each other. The auto-closet took up the whole space where a small boutique used to be. Instead of the storefront, there was now a large sleek display and the entrance to the auto-closet. All the magic happened inside. How exactly was beyond both of them. They had stacked and connected boxes, but most of the functions of each eluded them. There was only one way to find out.
“Well, I don't mind getting out of my overalls,” Caden remarked before stepping to the display. Browsing through it in search of inspiration. “Damn, there are a lot of options. Even Cosplay. Get this, I heard that the thing cleans one up too. No need to shower later. Hey, don't roll your eyes. I am just saying. It would be gross to be still sweaty when getting into new clothes.”
“Whatever you say, guinea pig.” Nathan looked at his watch. “I kinda want to get going. It is late enough. Now, do you really want to go through with this? Either make up your mind or let's tidy up and go.”
“It's these options. There are a lot. How about some casual wear. Uhh, look at those premium features.” Caden pointed at the body modification section. One could cheat with material and science and fake an altered physique. Or they could utilize what BetterU Inc. called “magic” and actually reshape the body. “I wouldn't mind some more pounds of muscles. But there is no way I can afford that price tag. Even with the forty percent they have off as a promotion.” The impatient tapping of Nathan's foot clued Caden in that he was running out of time. “Alright. Cool your horses. I am going.”
A last tap and the program was finalized. The door opened and Caden stepped in. Despite having just built the damn thing, the inside looked different. Boxes had opened hidden compartments and hinted at robotic appendages. Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea after all.
Caden was just about to step back out when the lights dimmed, the door closed, and a soft female voice spoke up. “Welcome to the auto-closet. An exclusive product by BetterU Incorporated. You have selected casual clothing. Evening. Calculating the best appropriate outfit.” A hologram flickered to life before Caden. Showing him in sensible garments for the current season. They looked good too. Even better, they made him look good. “Please confirm the outfit and purchase.”
“In for a penny-” Caden took a deep breath and stepped forward. “I confirm.”
“Acknowledged. Now applying-” The soft voice abruptly cut off into static and glitches. A few syllables repeated like a broken record. Then the hologram before him changed. The new preview made Caden's eyes go wide and the return of the voice didn't help one bit. “Acknowledged. Now applying: Housewife. Era: the sixties. Figure enhancement: selected. Please hold still. Commencing. Step one: undressing.”
“Oh, no. Fuck that! That's not what I wanted.” Caden turned around and banged against the door. “Nathan! Nathan, help! This damn thing is malfunctioning.” No matter how hard he hammered, his shouts remained unanswered. In the back of his mind, he knew of the superb noise insulation. But as panic took over, Caden gave a shit about facts and explanations. He just wanted out.
“Resistance detected,” the computer voice patiently continued. “Initiating rowdy children protocol.”
Metal arms snaked out of compartments. To Caleb, they appeared as animate as snakes. Within seconds, they had coiled around his wrists and ankles. Then lifting him off the ground. Despite fighting, he was dragged to the middle of the chamber.
“Commencing disrobing.”
Lasers danced over Caden's form. For a moment he thought they were just to measure him. But then his work uniform rained to the floor as tiny scraps. Yet no harm had come to him. Not even a scratch.
“Applying figure modifying prosthetics.”
Something was pushed against his butt. It appeared to squeeze it and push from all sides. Yet as the pressure subsided, something remained. A jiggling flesh-like substance that made his butt more pronounced. But the auto-closet wasn't finished. Two more prosthetics were applied. Enhancing his hips. They definitely looked womanly to him now.
Caden had barely stomached the latest development when a flesh-colored band was wrapped around his torso. It appeared to fuse in his back and slowly started to constrict his waist. Just like a corset, Caden reasoned.
“Oh, no, no, no, no!” All protests helped little as two big globes came closer. Despite struggles, they were pushed onto his chest. Sticking there a moment later as if nature had intended for Caden to have big breasts.
“This can't get any worse,” Caden cried out. Only to regret it a moment later. A robot arm aimed the next prosthesis directly at his face. “Get that thing away from me!”
Then he was muffled as the artificial flesh was pressed against his skin. A moment later, he could see and breathe again. But he could also feel the thin material of whatever mask they had stuck to his face. How did he look now? Would he even recognize himself in a mirror?
“This is a nightmare,” Caden whispered and then his eyes went wide. He hadn't spoken in his own voice. What came out from his throat had been higher and feminine. “Some kind of voice changer.”
Caden had been so distracted that the next prosthesis caught him off guard. Something big was pressed against his groin. He dreaded the look down, but couldn't help as the robot withdrew. The area around his groin looked nearly completely flat. He was glad that he could still feel his member under the prosthesis, but it was uncomfortably compressed. His discomfort melted away as the feeling diminished. Maybe the prosthesis had some numbing cream applied to it beforehand.
“What now, you bastard child of Skynet?” Caden asked in his new high-pitched voice as the robot arms lifted him higher. A large ring was placed below him with a thin membrane clinging to it. Whatever the flesh-colored material was, Caden was lowered to it. As his feet dipped into the membrane, it started to coat his feet. Clinging to and slightly compressing them.
Step by step, Caden was lowered further. Ankles, calves, and then up to his hips. For the procedure, the robot arms holding his legs had to let go, but Caden's hope was squashed as the next robotic appendages were already in place to grab onto him again. Now the ring was up to his waist. Then went over his chest and newly acquired breasts. As they neared his face, Caden took as a precaution a gulp of air. Head and arms followed. Then, he could see the aftermath. The membrane now clung to him from head to toe and had taken on the texture of skin. It didn't even look like he was wearing prostheses anymore. All he could see was unblemished skin. The gentle compression of the membrane made him look slimmer. More youthful too.
The only spot spared by the membrane was his scalp as Caden found out when some kind of mechanical hood descended upon it. For a minute or two, he felt tugging on his hair. Caden was unsure what the machine had done until the hood rose again. Electrostatic made his hair cling to the hood for a moment. That shouldn't have been possible, as Caden wore his hair short. Yet now, luscious locks of hair tumbled down.
Caden knew now his body would look perfectly feminine. The next step he both anticipated and dreaded. He didn't want to be dressed, but once he was clothed, he would escape this infernal machine. Then, he could figure out how to undo this madness. But Caden was wrong.
The machine concentrated on his feet next. His nails remained exposed and now, they were attacked. Granted, they were a bit long and he had meant to cut them soon. But the auto-closet had other plans. They were filled down and buffed until even they looked feminine. Caden didn't even know that was a possibility. Just to underline it more, nail polish was applied. A subtle pastel pink. Followed by a clear coat.
“Not my hands too,” Caden whined as a small army of robot appendages homed in on his hands. Here, the auto-closet determined that Caden's nails were too short. After a little prep, fake nails were glued on that added to the apparent length by half an inch. They got a generous coating of pastel pink nail polish. As an accent, Caden got white French tips. Despite that he didn't want them or any of this. Of course, last came a clear coat.
The robots allowed him to examine his hands. As if they were proud to show Caden what they had produced. Or maybe as a distraction. It was fast. Caden suddenly felt his earlobes gripped. Two piercing pains at the same time a split second later. Something was inserted into the tiny holes Caden now sported. Then, the machine released his ears. It was irrational, but Caden tried to look at his ears. Not that it was possible. But his struggle told him that nothing was dangling from his ears. So, they probably had inserted studs into his nearly pierced ears.
“Figure enhancement complete,” the soft computer voice announced. It did so calmly as if the machine hadn't just tortured Caden into a new physical appearance. “Applying selected wardrobe.”
Caden hung limply within the grasp of the robots. He had fought and he had lost. Now, he just wanted it to be over. “Come on. Hurry up you malfunctioning piece of tin-can.”
Panties and a brasserie were first. Caden was no expert, but they looked old-fashioned to him. White with a pearly silken sheen. The straps were wide. Not a modern - or sexy - cut at all. Of course, the garments fit perfectly. Caden refused to be grateful as the brassiere closed and the cups gave his large fake breasts proper support. And the panties only reminded him how trapped his genitals were. Could he even go to the restroom like this?
His pedicured and painted feet were slowly inserted into a sheer nude pantyhose. This might have actually felt nice, Caden reasoned. But this wasn't his skin the pantyhose glided upward over. It was the membrane that squeezed his legs. He couldn't see his encased legs for long as a loose white skirt was pulled out of a compartment and brought in his direction. As it came closer, he noticed the many red roses stitched onto the skirt. It was a simple motif, but one that elevated the skirt even more into the realm of femininity.
Getting him into the top was a nightmare. The chosen one was dark blue with long sleeves and a wide red trim at the neckline. The machine - and the rowdy kids' protocol- didn't trust Caden with dressing himself. Granted, if he would have spotted an opportunity to escape, Caden would have taken it. Hence his arms were guided by a small army of robotic tentacles. All without nicking the soft material of the top.
Caden wondered what torturous garment would be next. Maybe a cardigan or a sweater? Instead, the machine squeezed his legs into ankle boots with a small kitten heel, before announcing: “Applying makeup and styling hair.”
A groan escaped him. Hadn't he endured enough? Wasn't he feminized to perfection? Apparently not, as the machine arrested his head so it could work on his face and hair without Caden interfering. Brushes worked to apply powders to his face, while different brushes and combs tamed his now longer hair. He repeatedly heard the hiss of hairspray while red lipstick was applied. The whole procedure didn't take long, but Caden felt even further humiliated. Each minute he spent inside this machine, he departed further and further from his usual self.
“Styling completed.”
Caden's head was released. Without a mirror, he didn't know what had been done to him. But his hair had been styled into something elaborate. He felt it shift around his neck when he looked around. It must have been pinned up, he reasoned. And then cascading down over his ears and neck. What a strange feeling. A single strand got free - or was supposed to be separate - and came into Caden's view. It was blond, pretty much straight, and transitioned into a big curl near his chin.
“Can I get out now?” Caden asked. His voice was close to a whine. An errant thought rattled through his brain. If he cried, would the makeup run?
“Thank you for choosing the auto-closet by BetterU Incorporated-” For a moment, hope filled Caden. Then the computer voice crushed it in a merciless chipper tone. “And opting into the premium features.”
Premium features? Magic? Caden resumed his fight. Digging deep into his core to find the energy. Throwing every inch of strength he had against the robotic appendages that held him. This was bad news. Prosthetics came off. But if what he knew of the premium features was true, magic would go a step further. The prosthesis wouldn't just fuse to him. They would become part of his flesh and blood. He would become what he appeared to be: a full-blooded woman!
He strained. Fought. Flexed. Nothing helped. Worse. He felt a tingling feeling flooding his body. Followed by warmth. And then, he felt it. The pantyhose glided sensually over his skin. The bra cupping his breasts and the breasts that were being cupped. The fabric of the skirt shifting over his legs. What he didn't feel anymore was his member tightly compacted by the membrane. He felt different down there. Altered. And Caden knew. He had become a she.
Caden barely noticed that the robot arms set her down on the floor. The chipper voice thanking her further for using the services of the auto-closet was a murmur in the background. Caden was shocked. Stunned. The realization of what happened flooded her and drowned out every other thought. The door opened and she stumbled out on wooden legs without really registering it.
“Caden? Is that you?” Strong hands gripped her by the shoulder. Steadying her as she swayed slightly on her feet. Nathan looked as concerned at her as she felt panicked and overwhelmed. “I saw the machine glitch and tried to get you out, but it didn't budge.”
For a moment, Caden hesitated. She wanted to tell Nathan everything. All the machine has done. What it had taken from her. Instead, she buried her face in Nathan's muscular chest and started to cry. It felt good doing so, she had to admit. Somehow, she felt safe.
As Caden calmed down, she noticed that Nathan towered over her. He hadn't always been so tall. Did he grow taller? No, the machine had taken even more from her. It must have happened at the last moment. When magic had swept over her. Yet another thing they had robbed of her.
“Sorry.” Caden pushed away from Nathan. Even though part of her didn't want to. She was a man. Deep down, she still was a man, right? Man didn't break down like this. Revealed how much they are hurt. “I am okay now.” Caden tried to muster up a brave face. “Everything was just overwhelming, you know?”
“Okay?” Nathan sounded angry, but not at Caden. To her relief. “Piece of garbage. What had BetterU built us here? This is unacceptable. Don't worry. We will get you back to your usual self.”
Right then and there, Caden felt a strong impulse to kiss him. But that was wrong. Caden had always been into women. Now, she had doubts this was still the case. It shouldn't be right that they not just dictated his physical gender, but her sexual orientation too. Had they screwed with her mind?
“They better fix me!” Caden said after finding some fighting spirit again. It was slightly ruined by a pout, but she didn't let that deter her. She walked over to a box of flyers. The very same one she had installed not an hour ago. “Please leave a review,” she read aloud and showed Nathan the flier. “They want a review? I'll get them a review they won't forget. And I may get a lawyer. See if they like that.”
While Caden was on fire, Nathan kept his cool. “I don't think we will reach someone in the middle of the night. Maybe we should go home. Get some sleep and in the morning, try to get someone from BetterU on the line. Maybe they can fix it. Must have been a glitch, right? Maybe they can find the error and patch it out.”
“You are right.” Caden deflated a little. More as she realized that if they went home, she would be alone. To face whatever lay in front of her on her own. “This sounds silly but, can I stay with you? I don't think I want to be alone right now.”
There was hesitation on Nathan's part. But when he spoke up, he was strong and reassuring. “Of course. My apartment isn't far. I can take the couch. No worries. But, first-” Nathan grabbed a sheet of paper and wrote that the machine was defective. Pinning it to the auto-closet with duct tape. “We don't want to have others stumble into the same mess.”
Caden gave a nod. She might have been a bit lazy in her job before, but she knew Nathan was dependable. Always thinking of others. It was something she could appreciate. But only now, she really valued it. Nathan was a great guy. And he looked good too. The last thought brought a blush to her face.
Together, they tidied up. Loading their toolboxes and stuff on a small trolley. Caden wondered if her tools had always been this heavy, but Nathan was there as she struggled. Then, they walked out. Neither saw that the auto-closet came alive. It detected “vandalism” and deployed microscopic robots to clean it up. They ate away at the adhesive of the tape and seconds later, Nathan's written note fell to the floor.
Halfway to the exit, a glimpse of a sight made Caden stop. It was her reflection in one of the shop windows. A little hesitant, but curious, she stepped closer. This was the first time she saw what the machine had done to her. It was still her face from before. But noticeably more feminine. With understated make-up. Her outfit looked modest but very womanly. Especially the white flowing skirt with roses.
She spied small pearl earrings on herself. Caden had already forgotten the fact that her ears had been pierced too. In the turbulent events, such a small detail had slipped between the cracks of attention. Or did it already feel natural to her? The hair was a sight too. Piled up on her head and then fell down at the side and back. A classical bouffant hairstyle. That she knew what it was called worried Caden. The hairstyle - and her clothes - looked like from an era long before she was born. This shouldn't be knowledge she'd possessed. Yet, it was there. In the back of her mind. How much had the machine added or altered? At least, she looked cute, Caden decided. Then she immediately felt ashamed at the thought.
Nathan had waited patiently when Caden returned. “Everything alright?”
Caden gave a brave smile. “In a few hours, it will be. Hopefully.”
Chapter 2 - An Angry Letter
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Review by Caden99 |
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These so-called BetterU guys are charlatans! Just yesterday, I had been a man. Not so anymore. I tried one of these gosh-darn auto-closets. It worked just fine at the beginning. I selected my outfit and stepped in. And then, the strangest thing occurred. It glitched! It must have selected some preset of theirs. One moment I am a lad of twenty-three. Next, it has me dressed up as a housewife of the last century. I look ridiculous. Well, actually, I do look good. Young, fit woman with some allure. But that is my point! I am supposed to be a man. Now, I am not. Because that darn machine used premium features. An option I hadn't even selected. And tell you what. I think that infernal device tinkered with more than my body. I can't trust my own mind anymore. Stumbling out, I found myself attracted to my male co-worker. At first, I tried to deny it. But found myself seeking his comfort all the same. And then, late at night, I seduced him. Did the little devil dance, did I. Like some common hussy. Even now, I do not know what came over me. Like some kind of infernal heat burning within me. These BetterU perps better hurry up and fix that darn machine. And get a landline, you savages. Only a review site? How is one to complain in privacy? |
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Chapter 3 - Party Pooper
Ranjeet schooled his face. He wanted to appear somber. A last check. His lab coat sat well and his necktie was straight. A deep breath and he pushed through the double doors.
Over forty co-workers waited for him. Their looks were intense. It was eerily quiet as he made his way into the middle of the room. There, he cleared his throat and addressed his subordinates.
“I met with the board.” That in itself was superfluous. Everyone knew where Ranjeet had been the last two hours. “We reviewed the progress of the last few months together. There had been questions, yes. We all know that adjusting patented pre-existing technologies of BetterU Incorporated for new dimensions is always tricky. Not just the physical constants might be different, but the magical constants too. As such, the board has reviewed our progress over the last months and-”
Ranjeet paused. The room was filled with nervous anticipation. Finally, he allowed himself to smile. “We have to go ahead to start production on the auto-closet. Effective immediately. Congratulations to everyone. We are the department of this BetterU subsidiary that managed first to get a product approved. I hear they might even throw a few bonuses around.”
Halfway through his reveal, Ranjeet had to start shouting. Cheers erupted. There was a bang of two champagne bottles opened. The forty-something highly trained technician transformed from propper workers to party animals in bare seconds. A small snowstorm of confetti erupted around him. The glimmer of lights clued him in that they were probably made with magic. Or at least, transported into the air with magic.
They had worked hard the last few months and it was time to celebrate. Ranjeet loosened his tie, before slipping it off and throwing it into the dancing crowd. He took an offered champagne glass and slurped at it while co-workers congratulated him. Of course, this hadn't been a single-person effort and Ranjeet made sure to return every cheer and congratulation.
Celebrations of BetterU employees were always something to behold. Normally, all kinds of magical and technological knickknacks would be used to get the fun starting. But BetterU was new in this dimension. This subsidiary was still finding its footing. As such, the body suit department was the only group able to contribute to the gadget fun. They had been the strongest rival of the auto-closet team. But they were good sports. Sending three of their members over in body suits that were sure to start an orgy.
Ranjeet sighed. Working for BetterU Inc. sure was something. Good pay and great benefits. As long as one didn't screw up, everything was good.
As if the very thought had jinxed it, Ranjeet heard his name shouted. “Doctor Pusapati! Doctor Pusapati! I need to speak with you!” A few took up his last name as a chant, but Ranjeet wasn't wasted enough to not hear the urgency in the voice. He fought through the crowd and arrived at a small man who nervously looked around.
“I am Doctor Ranjeed Pusapati,” he introduced himself. Shouted really to be heard over the cacophony of the party. He eyed the party crasher. This wasn't a lackey from the board. But he had the laminate of BetterU. “What is it? Can't it wait? We are celebrating.”
“Earnest Connard,” the man introduced himself. “Media department. We have reviews!”
“Reviews?” Ranjeet frowned. “What do you mean reviews? We haven't released anything yet. We didn't even manufacture a single product.”
“That's why I am here!” Earnest looked deeply uncomfortable. He probably knew he would ruin the celebration. “There are reviews for the auto-closet. Real ones. I know it shouldn't be possible, but there is evidence.”
This shouted discussion was ridiculous. Ranjeet grabbed the man by the sleeve and steered him to his office. Closing the door, he could at least talk without shouting.
“This better not be a prank.” Ranjeet walked to his computer and woke it up. “Show me.”
“About twelve hours ago, a review site for the auto-closet popped up,” Earnest explained while taking over from Ranjeet and typing in a website address. “We only noticed now as the first reviews arrived. The site itself is not by us, but it uses our web technology. Down to the T. And the reviews. They are legit. They claim BetterU released early promotional booths. Booths that are now malfunctioning.”
Ranjeet browsed through the few reviews that were already posted. One stood out. Someone named Caden had provided before and after pictures. In the latter one, the feminized Caden looked surprisingly chipper. Especially since the review was very negative. If even half of it was true, BetterU was in big trouble. Even more so Ranjeet and his team.
“What's described should be impossible.” Before Earnest protested, Ranjeet explained. “First, the changing of the target outcome. We have multiple safety measures to check for this very possibility. There was never a problem with them in our prototypes. And we triple-checked. Again and again. Every time we added a feature, we made sure the basic safety functions were not compromised. And this-” Ranjeet pointed at the second half of the review. “That sounds like mental changes. A feature we haven't included yet. Even in the prototypes.”
“It's sabotage,” Earnest concluded. “Or fake booths that they just say it is ours.”
While they talked, more reviews arrived. All complaining about the same topics. Ranjeet knew what to do. Even though he loathed the very thought of it. With determined steps, he exited his office. Not bothering to check if the guy from the media department followed. His target was close by. A big red button. One that Ranjeet pressed without hesitation.
A blaring alarm cut through the party. Dancing scientists stopped on the spot. The music cut off only a few seconds later. Even the three orgies disentangled within a minute. Once Ranjeet had everyone's attention, he pulled out the button and the alarm stopped.
“I hate to ruin the mood,” Ranjeet spoke up before anyone stupid enough could restart the party. “We have an emergency. It appears that several auto-closet booths have been installed in various parts of the North American continent. According to witnesses, they are ours. I know. I know.” He held up his hands before anyone could protest. “We haven't even begun production. Yet these auto-closets are out there and they are malfunctioning. We need to get on top of it. Before the situation worsens.”
Ranjeet waved forward and thankfully Earnest got the hint. “This is Mister Earnest Connard. Media department. They found a website that resembles ours where people can post reviews to these auto-closets. At first glance, the site appears to be ours. Even I can't spot anything wrong with it. This means at least a leak in our internal network.”
“Sinclair!” Ranjeet pointed at the co-worker who might look the least disheveled. “Run to security. Get them involved. We probably need an internal audit and-” A collective groan made Ranjeet wince. “I know. I know. No one wants an internal witch-hunt. But the facts remain. Chances are someone from BetterU Inc. is involved.”
He consciously avoided looking at the three volunteers from the body-suit department. Yes, they had been the strongest rival of Ranjeet's own group. But everyone with half a brain cell would know that this would impact them all negatively. And while BetterU didn't hesitate to hire people with less than stellar personal moral codes, they didn't hire fools either.
“McDaniels!” Ranjeet turned to an older woman. She was one of his right-hand men. Or right-hand gal in this case. “Grab your team and comb those reviews. I already spotted a few features of these auto-closets that don't match ours. Compile a feature list based on the reviews. Then evaluate if it could be ours with modifications or if those auto-closets are externally built. If they are from a competitor, we might pin down the most likely suspects.”
“Woodworth!” A young man stepped forward. Ready to hear orders from Ranjeet. “Get down to manufacturing. See if anyone did some midnight tinkering. Check if parts are missing and so on. Everyone else, get busy.”
Suddenly, Ranjeet felt like in the middle of a brewing storm. Not just his subordinates who broke into activity around him. This was bigger than his department. Someone had targeted BetterU Inc. itself. And he had a feeling that this was just the beginning.
Chapter 4 - A Midnight Stroll
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Review by WatchfulOwl |
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Should have read the reviews. It's too late now. I am a night guard at a mall and there was this fancy new thing. An auto-closet they called it. I am not good with those fancy newfangled devices, but this one, I gave it a try. Had a tear in my uniform and that machine said it could fix it. And suddenly it went all haywire when I went inside. Did a lot more than fix a tear, mind you. But I don't know why everyone is so negative about it. Before, I had trouble seeing my own feet past my guts. Now? Slim and trim belly. It made me a woman, alright. First, I was very upset. But once I returned to the guard station and my co-worker saw me- Well, I tell you what, quite a few stars aligned. Never was much into guys, but now things are different. Kinda handsome, my Derek. Fellow guard. Was all chevalier and such. Even when I was in the mood to jump his bones and have him put a baby in my oven. Maybe that auto-closet knew more things about me than I did myself. Have been getting lonely lately. Getting a family would definitely change that. Could imagine Derek makes a good father too. Just have to convince him. Again. I think I now look the part to give him plenty of reasons. What was I saying? Right. Don't be too hard on those BetterU guys. I turned out alright. Not what I wanted, but I hardly am complaining now. |
Chapter 5 - Mind Your Worries
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Review by ConcernedFriend |
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How to start? Well, I haven't been a victim of these auto-closets, but my co-worker was. I think she called herself Caden99 back then. Now she goes by Candice. Yes, I know that sounds like coping with what happened to her, but it is messed up. She shouldn't adjust to it. BetterU should give her her old body back. What is BetterU Inc. doing anyway? It's nearly two weeks since they rolled out these auto-closets. Have they made a statement? No. Their malfunctioning pieces of crap still are available for anyone to stumble into. Granted, most have been cordoned off. But not by BetterU. It was up to us concerned citizens. And there is still no hotline or anything. Just this stupid review site. Well, let's review. You will see that it is much worse than my co-worker originally posted. Not that she is concerned by it. Why? Because she was brainwashed. That's why. It all started on the first night. Shouldn't have let her sleep over. There was something wrong with her. I cannot describe it better than being in heat. Yes, I shouldn't have given in to her advances. I will blame myself for the rest of my life. It has been wrong. I shouldn't have taken advantage of her altered state of being. No matter how much she said she wanted it. Since then, I refused to bed her again. Which didn't stop Candice from going out and looking to fill her needs with anyone else available. I don't know how many she fucked. It ultimately resulted in her becoming pregnant. Probably the logical conclusion. Since then- Her horniness is gone. Instead, she is playing a homemaker. Practically moved in with me. She rather keep cooking and cleaning rather than go to work. She even talks about quitting. Staying at home so she can take care of our baby. It isn't even mine. Well, there is a slim chance it is. I swear, I expect her every day now to start talking about getting married! This is so wrong. I hardly knew Candice when she had been Caden and my co-worker. Now, I practically gained a wife with a personality that has to be fake. Made up. Programmed into her by that cursed machine. Don't do it. Stay away from those auto-closets. And BetterU, if you are reading this, clean up your mess. |
Chapter 6 - A Meeting About Cheating
Kayode let his gaze roam over the board members. Vultures. All of them. Spies for the movers and shakers of the home office. Why had he accepted this position? Becoming the CEO of a BetterU subsidiary had sounded good. That's why. Even when the subsidiary was in a backwater dimension with high physical and medium-low magical constants. Now, he had a cluster-fuck of epic proportions on his hand.
His migraine throbbed and he doubted the two men before him would help get rid of it. It would probably only worsen. To the right was Ranjeet Pusapati. The lead developer for the auto-closet project. As much as Kayode wanted to blame the man, he wasn't at fault here. In fact, he had been quick to react and tried to get the situation under control.
The same couldn't be said for Arnold Burnett. The security chief of this subsidiary. It had been his responsibility to prevent exactly what had happened. The burly man - usually very self-assured - kept shifting nervously from one foot to the next. It had been his security plan that had failed. Granted, Kayode had signed off on the said plan. But if push came to shove, Kayode would make sure the security chief took the fall.
The CEO eyed them both before giving them both his best office-appropriate growl. “Two weeks since the incident. Where are we? Do we know if it is an internal or external threat?”
“Internal,” both men said immediately. The security chief a little later and made up for it by being louder.
Unfazed, Ranjeet calmly continued before Arnold could spin the whole mess to pin it on him. “The machines in question are the twenty-five internal prototypes we used for testing. As it is protocol, each prototype was transferred to a secure warehouse. Pending destruction upon completion of a finalized design. However, it appears the transfer was intercepted, rerouted, and the prototypes were upgraded.”
Kayode fixed his gaze upon Arnold and stated the obvious. “This should not have been possible. How was it?”
Surprisingly, the security chief straightened up. For once, Arnold appeared to grow a spine. “Internal sabotage. However, the fault lies not with our established security protocols. We traced the rerouting back to an audit account belonging to the home office of BetterU. We just received confirmation from home that this account is fraudulent. There is a spy and rather than infiltrating us locally, it happened at the home office.”
That was awfully convenient, Kayode thought, but kept it to himself. Compromised authentication from the home office could indicate internal strife. Maybe a move for power in the upper ranks. However, Kayode doubted it. He also wasn't willing to let Arnold simply slip from the hook.
“The authorization codes are from back home. But they were applied locally? Is there still a spy among us?”
“Yes.” The answer came promptly. Giving the security chief a little more credibility despite the bad news. “They were used recently. Five days ago to be exact. We monitored our employees discreetly. No leaves of absence or altered behavior since then. The conclusion is that whoever is behind the sabotage still hides among our staff.”
Kayode started tapping his pen on the desk. Not the fast tapping that betrayed nervousness. Slow and deliberate. Like the small impacts of a hammer. “Can you at least narrow down the window of infiltration? A month ago? Two? Recruited locally or from the home office?” On purpose, Kayode added a tinge of annoyance to his voice. Just to keep the security chief off kilter. It was obvious that most of these questions couldn't be answered until the spy was caught, but the CEO had to add pressure. Instead of faltering, Arnold surprised him again.
“After reviewing the findings of Doctor Pusapati, we believe this plan - and the spy - were in play even before this subsidiary was established.” Arnold indicated for the doctor to take over.
“The machines we retrieved display features we haven't implemented yet. Worse, features we haven't even started on yet.” The good doctor lifted a clipboard and appeared to be reading aloud while continuing. “Most prevalent is the ability to alter the mind and add compulsions. As well as behavior. Users of these machines display behavior in line with traditional housewives of the mid-last century. In addition, they have a strong urge to settle down and procreate. The time frame of adjusting these features to the local constants of this dimension suggests that there had been research done before we even arrived in this dimension.”
“Coming here. It's been a trap?” The very thought left an ashen taste in Kayode's mouth. This incident kept getting worse and worse. Now, it appears to be a targeted attack on BetterU with extensive insider information. The perpetrators either knew BetterU was coming to this dimension or even more horrifying, they manufactured it. “Speaking of the machines. Have they now all been retrieved? We are bleeding credibility as long as they are out here.
Finally, a question struck home and Arnold visibly grew nervous again. “We managed to retrieve half. Various local groups appear to have taken the opportunity to snatch a machine or two. Most appeared to be absconded by criminal enterprises, but one might be acquired by the local government. The matter isn't helped by the fact that none of these machines have their trackers active. The silver lining is that they are out of the reach of the general public.”
Kayode kept tapping his pen. When Arnold tried to add something, the CEO told him to remain quiet with a simple gesture. This was a fiasco and he needed time to think. Kayode didn't need to turn around to know the board members were staring at him. Vultures. Ready to pounce if he slipped up.
Having made up his mind, Kayode addressed Ranjeet. “Doctor Pusapati. Your highest priority now is to examine those retrieved prototypes. Every step of goodwill we will try to make will fail if we can't fix their altered minds. Even if we return their bodies to normal, their minds will tell them differently. In short, we would create a whole bunch of trans-women. Let me remind you, BetterU Incorporated was founded in part to end the plight of trans-men and trans-women by fulfilling their dream. We won't go back. Throw your team at the problem. You may even request personnel from other projects if they might prove useful. Dismissed.”
Ranjeet gave a bow. “Of course, Mister Odili”
Kayode waited until Ranjeet had left before addressing Arnold again. “Mister Burnett, I take it the ongoing trouble we have with our communications is part of our troubles with the spy? We appear to be unable to send messages that aren't deleted or altered. We really need to give a statement that goes beyond ‘no comments at this time’. It is just throwing kindling onto the fire. Select a few trusted people. Coordinate with the media department and get couriers out with a gosh darn press release.”
Arnold eagerly nodded. Probably because orders meant that he wasn't axed from his position. At least, not yet.
“As for the spy,” Kayode continued. “We keep their existence on the down low. Revealing this information might raise confusion among the staff. Worse yet, the spy might cover their tracks better. Keep doing the security audit, but let's hope our spy messes up and reveals themselves by accident.”
“Yes, sir. Mister Odili, sir.”
Kayode waved the security chief away. Now, it was up to his staff. A thought that didn't sit well with him. Kayode needed a backup plan if everything else fell apart. But not right now. There was still time.
With a heavy sigh, he leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He was alone in the room, save for his secretary, Cherry Suckton. He heard the slight clicking of her high heels as she walked around. Instead of asking stupid questions or pestering him with additional troubles, he heard her sliding down to her knees. A moment later, he felt the zipper of his pants being undone.
Even in times like these, it was good to work for BetterU Incorporated. And Cherry was fantastic giving a little oral encouragement.
Chapter 7 - Out-Gothed
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Review by MidnightBlossom |
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This sucks! For months I had waited for these auto-closets to be released. Not really for myself. I had this boyfriend - Dustin - who liked having a goth girlfriend. But he wasn't really into the scene, you know? Just pretending a little to mollify me, but not going all the way. Saying it was too big of a commitment. And then the auto-closets from BetterU were released early. Yes, by now, we have read the press statement. But we didn't know these were fakes scattered by a rival of BetterU. And we did make the mistake of using them. Well, Dustin did on my prodding. I thought it would be enlightening to him. Going all out goth. At least the esthetic. After all, it was supposed to be temporary. But these accursed machines twisted my input. Somehow, they made Dustin into an unholy mix of goth and mid-last century housewife. And not the unholy kind that is good. W.T.F. came out of that thing? I barely recognize Dustin in her. She goes by Denise now. What kind of name is Denise for a goth? And she is so chipper. Ugh, I hate it. From one moment I went from having a boyfriend to a new female roommate. One who wants to be my B.F.F. Yeah, save to say our relationship is over. I am not into girls. Apparently, Denise isn't either. She already hooked up with quite a few guys in the last month. Worse, she now is aiming for double dates. As if she wants to make up for the fact that I lost my boyfriend. What sucks is that she kinda has great taste in men and is good at hooking them. But this is still wrong. No one asked me if I wanted to exchange my boyfriend for a preppy goth sister. Even if she does all the housework, sews us new clothes, and lands us hunks of new boyfriends. I want my old one back. Give me back Dustin. And yes, I know now that this review site isn't from BetterU. But I need somewhere to vent. And whoever is responsible, you better not come too close to me. |
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Reviewer: MidnightBlossom
Chapter 8 - An Old-Fashioned Is Still Best
This was not the kind of neighborhood Landon usually frequented. Neither was the bar he aimed for. The entrance was flanked by two bouncers with broad shoulders and bulging muscles. Their very silhouette told everyone it was better to not mess with them. Barely concealed firearms told anyone perceptive enough that they weren't ordinary bouncers. Same for the bar. Everyone knew this establishment was run by the mob.
Both bouncers glanced at Landon but didn't stop him from entering. He had the genetics and the height to rival them. If only he would spend a modicum of effort on his physique. But that was the last thing Landon wanted. Apparently, this was evident enough and bought him entrance.
The bar itself could have been a cut-out of an Irish bar from any Hollywood movie, but it was surprisingly clean and well-maintained. Landon made a point not to look at the other patrons or their dealings. Aiming straight for the bar counter instead.
The barkeeper looked wrong in this establishment. The twenty-something might have fit in more at a trendy bar downtown with his roguish charm and boyish looks. He gave a nod as Landon sat down on a stool. “Let me guess,” he opened before Landon could say anything. “I am good at guessing the perfect drinks. For you? How does an old-fashioned sound?”
Now, this was what Landon had expected. “A very old-fashioned,” he corrected. “Something around fifty to sixty years old.”
“Gotcha.” The barkeep casually threw a towel over his shoulder and turned towards the passage deeper into the pub. “Follow me. The boss had been expecting you.”
That caught Landon by surprise. “I was?”
Mister young and handsome chuckled without turning around. “Our old-fashioned is quite famous, you know. Many envy our secret ingredient. So, those who had an old-fashioned give us a heads up if someone asks for a referral. That's why we knew you were coming, Landon Everett. And that you ain't police.” He knocked on a door and after a short shout from inside, he let Landon in.
“Here for an old-fashioned, eh?” This was the mob boss, Landon guessed. He looked like one. The rhetorical question was immediately followed by one that wasn't. “You have the money?”
A little hesitant, Landon pulled out the small stack of bills. Placing it on the table. “Five thousand. In twenties. As requested.” It had been a pain in the ass to gather as many bills without raising suspicion.
“Alright.” The boss stood up and indicated for Landon to follow. They left the bar through underground passages and Landon was quickly lost. The mafioso used the time to explain a few things. “If anyone asks, you used the machine on the first day at the Mall De Palma in East Miami. We have arranged for witnesses to have seen you. As you know, the result will be something along the lines of a housewife from the nineteen-sixties. But you can influence the outcome. The prompt you give to the machine. The closer it is to its supposed glitched state, the better it works. You know it will screw with your head?”
“I heard,” Landon confirmed while having trouble keeping up. With his long legs, he should be faster. But because of the low ceiling, he had to hunch over to follow. “Some is kind of iffy, but I've made my peace with it. Could be worse.”
“Good. So far, we haven't had any complaints.” Then the mafioso chuckled. “Well, at least not after.”
They arrived in a large underground room. It would have been spacious if it wasn't for the auto-closet set up in the middle. With it, the room felt cramped.
“Over there is the panel for the options. You got fifteen minutes to set it up and jump in.” While explaining, the boss took out a cigar and cut off the head. He lit it up and took a few puffs before adding: “What are you waiting for? I ain't got all day.”
Landon didn't need a second invitation. He squeezed past the man and tapped the panel of the auto-closet awake. Fifteen minutes was not a lot. Landon could spend hours customizing his new avatars in role-playing games. For what it was worth, the menu was very intuitive and streamlined. It barely took Landon ten minutes before he gave a satisfying nod. All was set. There was only one thing to do. The last step was to first step inside. With a racing heart, Landon entered the auto-closet.
A soft female voice greeted him. “Welcome to the auto-closet. An exclusive product by BetterU Incorporated. You have selected a casual female outfit for a walk in the park. Midday. Calculating the best appropriate outfit. Requested extra: premium features and height reduction.”
Landon nearly giggled. The machine is still proclaiming to be by BetterU Incorporated. Maybe. Maybe not. Landon didn't care. Instead, he followed the instructions. First, he undressed. The machine helped to clean him up. Then, prosthetics were applied. Landon was a little disappointed that the chosen breast forms and hip pads weren't very large. With his tall build, it would look like the endowments of a pubescent girl. But he had to trust the process, right? He had to admit, that the prosthesis for his crotch was uncomfortable, but hopefully that wouldn't matter for long.
At the behest of the machine, he stepped into a hop with a thin membrane of some liquid in it. Being coated with the material felt strange, but Landon vowed to endure.
“Now applying premium features.”
He felt the magic wash over him and suddenly, everything changed. Was the room growing? No, the machine shrank him. That wasn't right either. Shrank her. Landon was no more. Finally, she was Emma. In reality. Not just in her games.
The result wasn't what she had expected. Her “assets” were modest. And she was bald. Maybe she had chosen something wrong at the start? This couldn't be it.
“Applying prosthetics,” the machine announced for a second time. Startling Emma who nearly jumped back as new enhancements for her descended from the ceiling.
Her small pubescent breasts fit perfectly inside a chest shield that was three times the size. Now, this was more like it. Emma approved. While distracted, the machine went ham on her tights and hips. Looking down, she guessed she would have the perfect childbearing hips and a butt to die for. Not what she would have chosen herself, but now that she saw it, she kind of liked it. Maybe that was already the machine influencing her mind. Not that Emma cared. She knew it would happen before stepping into it.
The last step was a corset that squeezed her waist to waspish proportions. It was tight, but Emma knew she wouldn't have to endure it for long. The hoop descended again with the film of artificial skin. Without hesitation, she stepped into it and got coated once more. A wig came next. Long brown hair. Not unlike she had as Landon. But it never had been this long. Or luxurious. She couldn't wait for it to become part of her.
Just on cue, the machine announced: “Now applying premium features.”
Again, the room grew around her. Making Emma feel small. A first in her life. It elicited a giddy feeling within her. But this wasn't the only change. She admired her new body. Sure, the proportions were a bit exaggerated, but that would only help her, she decided.
“Please remain still for the application to proceed.”
Chastised, Emma stopped fidgeting around like a high-schooler on too many energy drinks. She quite enjoyed the pedicure and manicure the machine gave her. For the first time, she would be able to wear painted nails outside of her home. Without worrying about negative comments. She was looking forward to it.
It was a bit scary as many appendages started to crowd her face and hair. Makeup was applied. Not that Emma could see what the machine had chosen for her yet. To her surprise, her hair remained in a loose open style. Not the styled bouffant so many others reported. It was layered and a bit feathery.
Then she was clothed. Emma would have preferred dressing herself, but the machine was surprisingly efficient in applying white underwear. The bra was badly needed, Emma decided. She really had a lot up top. Her feet were guided into strappy sandals with a medium heel. Hopefully she could make them work without falling too often. Then, a dress descended down on her. It was white too with red dots. Those turned out to be red roses. It was a playful, yet innocent design. Perfect for a summer outing.
“Program complete. Thank you for choosing the auto-closet by BetterU Incorporated. Have a nice day.”
“I bet I will,” Emma replied to the disembodied voice. She was giddy with excitement. Finally! She was a real woman. Part of her wanted to strip off this dress and marvel at her new body. But she was a lady now. Such behavior wouldn't do.
Stepping out, Emma got an appreciative whistle from the mafiosi. “Someone turned out fine. And not the usual fair either. Good for you.”
Emma blushed at the compliments that followed as she was led back to the bar. Slipping out of the back rooms, the bar looked the same. Yet she was different. A fact underlined that she was openly checked out by the patrons. The only one who was a bit more covert in doing so was the barkeeper. Emma looked out to the darkness of the evening and had to admit that a light summer dress might not have been the best choice. Maybe she needed something else to warm her up first.
With surprising ease, she walked over to the bar and took a seat again. “Hello again. I think I'll have another drink.”
The barkeep raised an eyebrow. “Another old-fashioned?”
“Ah, no.” Emma gave him a mischievous smile as she straightened up. Giving the barkeep a good view of her new bosom. “The last one sits very well with me, don't you think? I was thinking of something lighter. More fruity.”
“A cocktail perhaps?”
Emma nodded. Surprisingly, for a mafioso bar, she did get a very decent cocktail. “My name is Emma, by the way,” she said as her drink slid over to her.
“Sean,” the bartender replied. Emma could see that he tried to remain neutral, but she could see his interest. “You know,” Sean continued after a few seconds. “You aren't the first customer after an old-fashioned to hit on me. Part of the programming, I guess. I am not really husband material.”
Emma hid a smirk by taking a sip of her drink. “How about boyfriend material?” The rest, she could change later, Emma decided. Sean was hers. She knew it in her bones. What woman didn't like a bad boy in their bed? And while she smiled at him, she idly wondered what their children would look like.
Scene 9 - Riding On
“Big Mike! Big Mike! Big Mike!”
Michael “Big Mike” Winston tried his hardest not to appear nervous as he exited the biker saloon while the gang chanted his name. There were quite a few new voices he could hear. And even some of the old ones sounded different. Big Mike's biker gang used to be smaller. A tight little outfit that sometimes dipped into the illegal.
He stopped in the middle of the street. Not that there was much traffic on the remote road. Now it was utterly blocked as the crowd closed in around Big Mike and his chosen opponent. Devon was a newcomer and had barely more than half of Mike's muscle mass. This should be an easy fight. Still, he was worried.
He glanced past the crowd to the small compound where they had hidden an auto-closet stolen from the mall a few months ago. That cursed thing had shattered Mike's peaceful life as a biker. They knew about the malfunction and it netted them some bucks as hopeful fools paid for the privilege to use it. Mike didn't mind as trans-women marched through that thing. But then, Chad had to dare Don to an arm-wrestling match. Loser would use the auto-closet. Chad might have regretted the bet. Charlene didn't. And Don? He got a wife out of it. Big Mike could see them among the crowd. Arm in arm. Rumor was that Charlene was pregnant.
The dares hadn't stopped. His original gang had lost a third of their members to womanhood when they started to expand to other gangs. The current members belonged originally to three gangs and they still had newcomers joining in. Like that Devon and his smirk.
Big Mike had enough. For months now, the gang had urged him to start a match. To claim a wife. He was the odd one out. By now, there weren't a lot of singles left. He was surrounded by happy couples. Big Mike didn't want to settle down. He liked the bachelor life. But if he didn't challenge someone to a match, he might lose all respect inside the gang. That, he couldn't have either.
A table with two pegs on top was carried out and placed between Big Mike and Devon. What the hell was Devon for a name anyway? That lad needed a proper bikername. That's what. Then again, it wouldn't matter in a moment.
Big Mike pumped his arms to get blood flowing and warm them up. The crowd cheered for him. Clearly, he was the favorite. But Devon was calm as he stepped to the table. “Ready?”
A snarl nearly escaped Big Mike. That pup needed to learn manners. He stepped to the table and got ready. Devon's smaller hand nearly vanished inside Mike's paw. Who won was a foregone conclusion.
Samantha stepped forward and laid her hands on the closed fists of the participants. Once, she had been just Sam. And the leader of Big Mike's gang. Now she was the arm candy of the new leader. But by tradition, it was she who counted down. “Three. Two. One. Fight.”
Big Mike was ready. Throwing his muscles into the match. Pushing steadily his opponent's arm down. But not down to the table. That ass was stronger than he looked. Giving nearly as good as Mike gave. It was a fight, alright. Mike nearly managed to push Devon down a few times, but the lad always recovered and pushed back until they were nearly neutral.
“You know the secret to a good arm wrestle?” Devon suddenly spoke up.
“Shut up,” Mike pushed out. His breath was short and he could feel the burn in his arm.
“Strength is important,” Devon casually continued. “But so are stamina and endurance.”
Big Mike couldn't believe it. This half-pint was pushing back. Mike was losing ground. Fatigue had set in. With horror, he realized that this was what his opponent had waited for. Steadily, he lost ground. His last stand was valiant and lasted all but ten seconds. And then Big Mike's arm slammed into the table.
The crowd was silent for a moment and then broke out in cheers. Devon was all smirks again. How Mike wished to wipe it off his face. But punching him would be bad. Worthy of being kicked out. As was chickening out of what was expected next. Big Mike really wanted to call it off. To walk away. But he would lose his face and all respect. Not to mention his membership in the gang. Today was not the day he would hand over his vest.
“Let's do this,” he grumbled as he took off for the auto-closet. The gang split in his wake but cheered louder. To them, it didn't matter who won.
Impatient, Big Mike waited at the entrance of the auto-closet. Pointedly not looking at the panel and what Devon typed in. Whatever it was, Mike knew he would exit as a woman. Styled and behaving approximately how a housewife from the sixties of the last century would do. By now, there was some knowledge of how to bend away from the enforced result of the glitch. But Mike wasn't too keen on what awaited him.
“After you,” Devon eventually said and pointed to the door of the auto-closet that had just opened.
“Why? You want to take a turn after me?” Big Mike didn't wait for that lad to find a fitting reply. At least, he had wiped that smirk off Devon's face.
Mike's transformation came in four parts. The first three were punctured by an application of “premium features”. Probably needed because of his large starting stature. The first part was the hardest. Uncomfortable and bordering on horror. The second was easier and Mike calmed down. Probably due to the fact that the point of no return was behind him. Well, her. The features weren't very womanly yet, but it was getting there. After the second application, Mike started to feel different. Suddenly looking forward to the final result. She hoped she would turn out fine. But what would she call herself? The former Mike thought long about it and it was only in the last phase that she decided. Linda. A classical name. Fitting for a woman of class.
Linda couldn't tell how long she had been inside. Judging by her mental state - and how happy she was with the outcome - her original mind had been twisted into a pretzel. But she had to admit, Devon had taste. She wasn't wearing some wifish dress like so many that had stumbled out of this machine. She wore sturdy boots, jeans overall, and a leather jacket. Not to mention a kerchief wrapped around her head. Less sixties housewife and more Rosie the Riveter. Not to mention that she was built like Rosie too. Not all muscles were stripped from her. In fact, she might be the strongest woman in the gang now. With that, Linda could live.
Stepping out, she pointed behind her. “Booth is empty if you want to take a spin.”
Devon gave her a smirk. No, smile. One quite fitting for someone this handsome. For the life of her, Linda couldn't remember why she had hated it before. She wouldn't mind seeing it more often.
“I am fine. Thanks.” Devon mimed tipping his hat. “You look fabulous. How may I address you?”
Linda was aware of how quiet the crowd around them was. It wasn't a fixed rule that those who had a match ended up together. But the majority did. They all wanted to know if she and Devon meshed.
“You can call me Linda.”
“I see. Very old fashioned, but nice.” That smile by Devon again. She could avoid a blush, but her legs felt a bit weak. “But as we are part of a biker gang, how about we shorten it a bit. How about it, little Lyn?”
“Fine, except-” Linda cuffed him good on the shoulder. “I am not so little.”
“Sure, lil’ Lyn. Sure.” Devon barely evaded the next punch. “And strong too. But strength isn't everything. Wanna wrestle again? See if you hold up better now?”
“Stamina and endurance, eh?” Quite quick, Linda grabbed Devon by the collar. Dragging him towards her chopper. “Sure, but how about we do some different kind of wrestling. In private. Then you can show me how long you last.”
“Yes, Mam’,” Devon dutifully replied. A smirk once again on his face.
Chapter 10 - Catching On
The alarm, that echoed throughout the BetterU compound, was deafening. Annoyed, Cherry hurried after her CEO, Mister Odili. This better not be a fire alarm practice. Though the sound blaring was wrong. Didn't matter. It interrupted Cherry while she had an important one-on-one meeting with Kayode. She didn't even have time to fix her lipstick. One look might clue everyone in that she had been sucking off her boss. Well, the thought of being found out actually got Cherry a little aroused. Not that now was the right time for it.
It was a minor miracle that Cherry could keep up with her boss as he stormed down the hallway. At least, to onlookers. Clutching a clipboard against her generous bosom, each step of her was punctured by the click of her long stiletto heels. And despite prim and proper office wardrobe - smudged lipstick aside - the first word anyone had on their mind when they saw Cherry was Bimbo. Granted, the short tight skirt and half-see-through blouse didn't help dissuade that notion.
“What is going on?” Kayode demanded to know as they came up to a security checkpoint. Arnold Burnett was there. The subsidiary's chief security officer.
How Cherry loved it when her boss was all no-nonsense. Dominating. Powerful. It nearly made her distracted enough to miss the reply.
“The mole fucked up. But it is a mixed success.” Arnold produced a tablet PC and showed it to Odili. Thanks to Cherry's towering heels, she could see it too over the shoulder of her boss. “That's Vincent McNeil. IT department. Unusual high-security clearance. We tracked some suspicious things back to his workstation. But we had to be sure. McNeil seems to be a plant. Local guy, but was hired directly by the main branch. Or so we believed. Took a few months to sync and verify our employment roster with the main office. They don't even have McNeil on file.”
“Good news.” The praise by Odili didn't sound very genuine. He pointed at the improvised security checkpoint. “What's this then and can you shut that damn alarm off?”
“Sorry, Sir, I can't.” The security chief looked uncomfortable, but stood his ground. “Someone tipped McNeil off or we stepped on a tripwire. He is in the wind, but we don't think he has left the building yet. With unknown resources at hand and given what we work on, he can't take anyone or any identity for granted. Hence we have to check everyone while we evacuate the building. Meanwhile, my teams are sweeping the floors. It is only a matter of time until we have him.”
As Arnold explained, Cherry studied the many researchers who went through the checkpoint. She recognized Rylee Stokes - a fellow secretary, but of a different department - as she walked through the checkpoint. It wasn't just a scan of her employee badge. Her retina was scanned. As were her fingerprints. Even her finger was pricked to get a blood sample.
“Do we know if McNeil worked alone?”
The question by her boss drew Cherry's attention back to the conversation.
“He was the only mismatch, but that doesn't rule out collaborators. McNeil could have hired someone locally or bribed his way through the company. Not to mention that there are ways to force compliance. Either by technology or magic. The saboteur already has displayed an aptitude in both.”
“Nail that bastard down and-”
“Let go of me!” The female shout made Cherry's boss stop and turn. So did she. A woman was dragged by security guards closer. It didn't take Cherry long to identify her. “I swear, I am the real me. My name is Rylee Stokes and I work in-”
“Shut up!” One of the security guards yelled before turning to Arnold. “Chief, we found her in one of the offices. She appeared to be unconscious but woke up when we entered. No ID on her and she refused a blood test.”
Before anyone could speak up, Cherry's giggle cut through the dense atmosphere. “Deja Vu. I could swear I saw Rylee just now. Getting through the checkpoint here.”
Cherry had to give kudos to the security chief. Arnold was quick on the uptake. Immediately speaking into his radio. “This is Burnett. Possible inner perimeter breach. The suspect might have assumed the identity of one Rylee Stokes. Stop her for questioning.” The call ended without any pleasantries and he turned to one of the guards that had escorted the secretary to them. “Get a soul scanner. Make sure this is the real Miss Stokes. We can probably rule out a magical transformation. That would have left a large magical afterimage. Our scanners would have picked that up. Given the time frame, probably a bodysuit. That would explain passing the other tests.”
Cherry wasn't sure who the explanation was for. Maybe to appear competent in front of the CEO? She didn't give a rat's ass. All she wanted was to get out and away from the still-blaring alarm. And maybe finish sucking off her boss Kayode.
Arnold listened to his earpiece for a few seconds and then cursed like a catholic schoolgirl. Well, it was pretty profane, but compared to what Cherry had heard before it was pretty tame.
“One Rylee Stokes had just left the compound. We missed her by seconds.” Another few curses followed. Probably just for good measure. “I am going after her, but I am low on manpower and there still might be collaborators.” The security chief went for his radio again. “I am going out with a hunting party. While I am gone, Miss Cherry Suckton is in charge. I repeat, Cherry Suckton of plan B is in charge.”
Cherry's vapid expression vanished and made way for anger. “Bastard!” The target of her ire had already left. It was doubtful he had heard her. That idiot just had blown her cover.
It was evident by how Kayode gaped at her. Life a goldfish out of water. “Y-you are plan B?”
“Yeah, I am more than a nice rack and world-class blow jobs,” she admitted while patting Kayode patronizingly on the shoulder. “Don't take it personally. Nearly all new subsidiaries get a plan B complement. At least for the first few years.”
Plan B - often nicknamed Plan Bimbo - was a rumored subdivision of BetterU Inc.'s security branch. No one suspected a walking sex doll to be an internal corporate spy. BetterU was famous for supplying sexed-up airheads to their corporate holdings. What some people overlooked was that there were a few women who liked to play dumb and sexy, while being mental powerhouses. Women like Cherry, who probably earned twice as much as Kayode Odili. She had all the skills and knowledge a CEO needed. How else would she make sure her charge would stay on the straight and narrow. But her sexy figure and top-notch whoring skills made sure targets lowered their defenses.
“Chantal. Desiree. Meet me in the lobby.” Cherry didn't need some silly radio. Her body was stuffed with more than silicone. Namely high-powered implants.
Cherry had walked a few steps when she heard a weak “What about me?” behind her.
With a sigh, she stopped and turned around. “You? Just look pretty and don't mess anything up. As it stands, your carrier might survive this cluster-fuck. If not? Well, you do have a nice dick. One that I like to suck. Maybe you can become my boy toy. But now, shush. I've got work to do.”
Not sparring Kayode another glance, Cherry walked out. With regret, she reasoned she wouldn't finish that blow-job after all. Men's pride can be easily hurt and she doubted Kayode would forget that she wasn't just a slutty secretary. Which she was. Slutty that is. It took a special kind of gal to work for Plan B. “Stupid Arnold,” she muttered under her breath. “Blowing my cover like that. Just wait until I get my hands on you. BetterU can always use a good new Bimbo.”
Chapter 11 - Silver Linings
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Review by ConcernedFriend |
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I am not sure if anyone still checks this site. Maybe some do and need a little light in these trying times. Previously I reported how my co-worker was remade into Candice. How she became obsessed with getting pregnant and then a homemaker. I have to admit, I still hedged some anger towards BetterU in the last few months. Maybe they aren't at fault or maybe they did a fantastic cover job. But I don't think I can hold onto my anger much longer. Surprisingly, Candice and I grew closer. In the last few months, she explored what it means to be a woman in her own right. Beyond what that damn machine programmed into her. And I am not afraid to say I have fallen in love with her. Now, everything has changed. Last night, for the first time, I held my daughter Jessica in my arms. Yes, I know, Candice slept with a lot of guys in her first few days as a woman. But Jessica is my daughter no matter what. Candice is already talking about maybe going for another. I am not as opposed to it as I would have thought. But first, I have to make Candice my wife. She already accepted my proposal. A family of my own. Who would have thought that? Not me. At least, not nine months ago. But here we are. What I am trying to say is this: whoever you are who sabotaged these auto-closets, I think you failed. You wanted chaos, but I am pretty sure most of us got our happy end after all. |
Scene 12 - Too Late
Cherry tapped her pen on the table. There was a frown on her face and she worried it might leave wrinkles. That's why she preferred the role of Bimbo secretary over being an actual shaker and mover. Too much stress. It's been twenty-four hours since the saboteur escaped. Not much later, Arnold Burnett had gone radio silent. No one had heard or seen the security chief since then.
“At least, we caught him. Finally!”
Cherry turned to Kayode who sat nearby in one of the other boardroom chairs. He was fine as a CEO in peacetime and good as a lover. But throw a crisis his way and he falls apart.
Catching Vincent McNeil in the disguise of one Rylee Stokes hadn't been as hard as Cherry had feared. In fact, her hunting teams had located the traitor just hours after their escape. Cherry had delayed the apprehension. Hoping to see if McNeil made contact with anyone. No such luck.
Silently - over her implants - she messaged Chantal. Her second in command. “Any news on Arnold?”
“Still missing,” came as a reply seconds later.
Of course, there wasn't. Just asking betrayed how nervous Cherry was feeling herself. Something stank and she had a bad feeling. It slowly eroded her confidence.
Just then, Desiree returned with three BetterU security guards. In the middle of the quartet was one Rylee Stokes. She looked different. Gone was the secretary look and she wore nondescript casual clothes. Good for blending into crowds. But not good enough to evade Cherry's teams.
“Soul scan confirms it is not Rylee Stokes,” Desiree opened without preamble. “But something blocks a clear read.”
“Strip her,” Cherry ordered.
Of course, Rylee had plenty to say. How she was the real Rylee. That there had been a mistake. Her protest about being stripped fell on deaf ears.
“A seam,” Desiree remarked. “A body suit for sure.”
“Well, let's get Mister McNeil out of her,” Cherry ordered casually and calmly. Despite feeling like neither.
Except that, once the bodysuit’s seam was popped, not a Vincent McNeal was peeled out of it. Instead, a very confused-looking Arnold Burnett emerged. “Why am I a man? This isn't right. What did you do to me?”
“I don't understand,” Kayode spoke up. “When did McNeil switch with Burnett? Was he ambushed?”
“No. No. No.” It made perfect sense to Cherry, who groaned as she realized how badly they had been outplayed. “McNeil knew our security inside and out. Even the presence of Plan B operatives. In order to extract himself, he needed a decoy. One that knew our security protocols too in order to evade longer. Look at him. Burnett still thinks he is Rylee. No, NcNeil was one step ahead. Brainwashed Arnold to believe he was Miss Stokes and put him in a bodysuit. The real McNeil was in a bodysuit too. Of Arnold. No one screened him as he left the building in the hot pursuit of the supposed saboteur. Then it was easy to slip our grasp.”
“But I am Rylee!” Arnold insisted as Desiree led him away. It would take some time to deprogram him. Depending on the method, he might never be fully the Arnold Burnett they had known again.
“So, now that we know McNeil is in the bodysuit of Arnold-”
Cherry gave a hard humorless laugh as Kayode spoke up. “Don't bother. It's been a day. Who knows? McNeil might have more bodysuits. He is gone. I doubt we will be able to pick up his trail. We have to face the truth. This was a loss. All we can do is curtail any more damage to the image of BetterU. That and hope HQ will be merciful when this is all over.”
Yes, this was a shitshow. Whoever that McNeil was, he better run and hide in the deepest darkest corners of the multiverse. For Cherry wouldn't rest until she had him cowering at her feet.
Epilog - Tying Up Loose Ends
“Hello?” Vincent poked his head into the dusty warehouse. It was filled with junk and old furniture. Lazily covered with tarps. It looked like the last stop of ten attics that had been cleaned out.
“In here,” a female voice shouted from a far corner away.
Finally, Vincent would learn who hired him. For over two years, he had been deep undercover. Sabotaging the newest subsidiary of BetterU Inc. from the inside. He liked to think of himself as a professional, but whoever had hired him had a deeper insight into the company than he had thought possible. Codes and secrets that Vincent never would have gotten his hands on. Not to mention the warning about a secret task force called Plan B that disguised themselves by acting as dizzy bimbos.
Vincent saw the gate first. A trans-dimensional portal that was quite large. The sight relaxed him. If anything of the plan had really worried him then the fact that he hadn't known how he would escape this dimension. Portals could be detected and traced. Especially in a world like this with low trans-dimensional traffic. But this one looked chunky not by lack of sophistication, but by additions that would make it harder to track.
“Mister McNeil.” A woman in her late twenties greeted him. Offering her hand. Vincent needed a moment to take her in. The dark blue hair certainly was unusual. At least compared to the locals. She didn't look like he had imagined. Certainly not like the mastermind of industrial sabotage.
“A pleasure to meet you,” she continued. “My name is Cassandra. Excellent work, by the way. Well done.”
Vincent felt a little apprehensive at receiving the praise. “I am not sure it is warranted. BetterU is already doing damage control and smoothing things over with the local authorities. I hope you excuse me for saying so, but it feels like all we did was being a small speed bump.”
“On the contrary.” Cassandra gave him a bright smile that somehow reminded him of a shark. A very hungry one. “This battle here was never meant to be won. But for the first time in ages, someone drew blood from BetterU Incorporated. They are in a panic about how deep they have been penetrated. Paranoia is spreading. Accusations are being made. This will slow down their spreading to new dimensions. Now, they will triple-check everything before they commit to any new subsidiary.”
The malice in her voice surprised Vincent. “It may not be right to ask this - being a hired contractor - but it sounds like it is personal.”
“It is.” She brushed a few purple strands of hair out of her face. Hadn't it been blue just a moment ago? Before Vincent could dwell on it, Cassandra threw him a curveball. “What do you think, Mister McNeil? Would breasts that fill H-cups look good on me?”
Vincent frowned. Was this a trick question? Bigger was better in his opinion, but H-cups were large, right? Maybe too large. Especially for someone with a lean figure as Cassandra had. “No, I honestly think that would be a bit much.”
“A little? It's a recipe for back pain!” The ferocity made Vincent take a cautious step back. But Cassandra wasn't done. “You know what they did? Those assholes of BetterU?”
Vincent took a hesitant shake of his head. It seemed to calm her down a little.
“So, imagine this. You are a small-time author who writes short stories in a certain niche. Let's say of a certain transformative variety. But you aren't really good at world-building. One day, you find the means to travel dimensions. There are plenty of good stories out in the multiverse. One just has to find them and bear witness. Then, of course, write it down.”
There was an awkward pause as Cassandra took a few breaths. Vincent eyed the redhead carefully. “How does BetterU play into it?”
“How? How? I'll tell you how!” At once, Vincent knew he had made a mistake speaking up. Cassandra went full force again. “It was only a matter of time. I specialize in stories with a little transformative twist. BetterU Incorporated focuses on mental and bodily transformations. It was only a matter of time before we ran into each other. At first, the interactions were friendly. As friendly as it can get with an over-bloated company scattered over a few thousand dimensions. I pointed out a few worlds I visited that might wait for a company like them and they pointed me to a few worlds with the kind of magic in it conducive to my writing process. All good. Until they hired me.”
Before Vincent could even get a word in, his pacing employer rambled on. “They told me: hey, you are from that and that dimension. We want to expand there. Would you like to write a few stories that highlight the good work we do? Pave the way for the subsidiary they wanted to open. And I thought: why not? Granted, I think they overestimated how large my audience was, but that's beside the point. I did my work and I expected them to pay up.”
“Except these-” Cassandra mimicked squeezing the air out of someone's throat. “Whiny little bastards. Suddenly the magic constant of my home dimension was too low and fickle and the physical constant was too high and unyielding. They blew the whole subsidiary off. And you know what they did instead of paying me? They gave me humongous tits. That's what they did. Except they never asked me if I wanted them. Instead, they tried to brainwash me into thinking that it was my desired payment. But they messed that up too. They made me think I always had H-cup puppies. So, I was confused. Why was I getting something as a payment that I already had? Took me a while to figure it out and reverse the brainwashing. And then? Then I got to planning my revenge! BetterU will rue the day they crossed me!”
Alright. Vincent decided that this little wannabe writer - who cheated to get her story ideas - was totally unhinged. Instead of taking the loss, Cassandra started a war against a powerful multidimensional cooperation that spanned thousands of subsidiaries. Not someone sane would do. Then again, her first strike had been a success of a kind. Speaking of, it was time for Vincent to get what he was owed.
“The lesson here is that for a job well done, one should be paid.” He hoped agreeing with her would keep the madness at bay. “I think we agreed on one hundred thousand trans-dimensional bucks for my efforts.”
“Right! Yes! Uhm.” Cassandra deflated a little. Looking around until her eyes fell on Vincent again. “I have the money ready. Not here, of course. You will get paid, but first I have to extract you to a world where they can't track you. Can't have you talking, you know.”
That sounded a little suspicious to Vincent, but there was some merit to it. He had no idea yet how to escape this dimension without BetterU snapping at his heels. The plan of a crazy person might be better than none at all. He pointed at the stealth portal. “I take it, that is our ride.”
“Yes, but there is more!” Cassandra looked around the scattered items before triumphantly holding up a flier. Handing it to Vincent.
“LARP World?” He asked after a cursory glance at the brochure.
“Yes! We use BetterU against BetterU. You see, LARP world is where they do real live-action role-playing. All save with illusion magic simulating the real thing. Set up to be accessed by mundane people. But here is the thing: you can be anyone! Bodysuits. Everyone is wearing one. From the participants to the hosts and hired actors. No one will bat an eye if we arrive in bodysuits and no one cares where we go after the event. Thousands of portals in and three days later thousands out. All anonymous and the best thing is: no one will notice if we take a different portal out than we took to get there.”
“That's kind of smart,” Vincent had to admit. Not bad for a crazy person. Though he wouldn't go so far as to call her a mad genius. “Where are those body suits?”
“Right here!” Cassandra heaved up a large crowbar. For a moment, he feared her taking a swing at him. Instead, she pried open a large crate. Triumphantly, she withdrew two female bodysuits. Elven, from what Vincent could see. One with big tits and the other nearly flat-chested.
Vincent blanched. “Why didn't you get a male one for me? I prefer to avoid female bodies if I can help it.”
Cassandra looked annoyed. “Last week, I had two male bodies. This week I have two female ones. If one books at the last minute, you get what you get.”
He wasn't happy, but Vincent had to admit Cassandra had a point. “Fine. I guess I can stomach one weekend as a woman.”
As he reached for the body suit of the flat-chested elf, Cassandra swatted his hand away. “Didn't I just tell you that I have trauma based on past experience with big tits? Even writing a whole serial only helped a little. You take that one.”
Even biting in lemons would result in less of a frown as Vincent now displayed. “This is getting worse and worse,” he mumbled under his breath, but dutifully grabbed the body suit. After a weekend in this, he might have a trauma too.
Cassandra wasn't shy about stripping and climbing into her body suit. He caught a last glimpse of her pink mane and then she became an elf. Blond, blue-eyed, and not much up top to speak about.
Vincent's was the opposite. She had long legs, he noticed as he stepped into the body suit. The butt was quite a bit larger than his own. Pulling the suit up to his waist, he definitely noticed the wide childbearing hips. Getting the suit over his shoulders was a struggle. Courtesy of the large endowment up top. In went his head and soon he looked out of green eyes and past a curtain of black hair.
“Here.” Casandra - already dressed - handed him some skimpy clothes. “Your role is that of Princess Mesyndia. On her way to her betrothed. Don't look so gloomy. It is just a role. You won't have to do anything you don't want to do. Just act snotty. Let two and a half days pass in relative comfort and then we can portal out.”
“Where I will get my money,” Vincent concluded. Damn, he sounded strange. All womanly and husky.
“I am a sucker for happy ends,” Cassandra replied instead of giving a straight answer. She stepped to a console beside the portal. “Ready?” On her command, space-time ripped open and gave a peek into a different world. Vincent saw a bright and sunny meadow. And Cassandra who took a bow. “Ladies first, my princess.”
Rolling with his eyes, Vincent stepped through. The world for the LARP gathering really was a little paradise. It wasn't too warm or cold. The weather was perfect too. Not a cloud in the sky. He could see lots of trees too. But no other LARPers.
“Is it far to the-” Vincent fell silent as he turned around and saw no portal. That was expected, but the absence of Cassandra was more worrying. “Cassandra? Hello?”
A rumbling alerted Vincent that he wasn't alone after all. A small green mound started to move. Then he could make out arms and legs. At last, a face with tusks in the corners of the mouth.
“Who dares wake up Bokborsch? Chieftain of the black river tribe! Show yourself!” And then, Bokborsch looked down on Vincent, who was easily two heads smaller. “Pretty little elf lady. Bokborsch doesn't mind being woken by you. You heard of Bokborsch?”
The orc - Vincent was pretty sure it was one - started to flex muscles. And what muscles they were. Huge and defined. Just the way Princess Mesyndia liked it.
Vincent shook his head. What was wrong with him? He wasn't into dudes. Especially big green ones. And for a moment he had slipped too easily into the role of Princess Mesyndia. That was worrying.
“Cassandra?” Vincent tried again. It wasn't even a shout. More a desperate whisper of a plea.
“Is that your name, little one?” Bokborsch inquired, while not even stopping to flex his muscles.
For a moment, Princess Mesyndia was mesmerized again. But Vincent snapped out of it. Was it a real or maybe one of the LARPers? And what was wrong with Vincent, that he was pinning for some stupid orc?
Vincent decided to play it safe for now. “No, my name is Princess Mesyndia.”
“A princess? I am a chieftain. That fits!” Bokborsch shouted out. It made nearby bushes shiver in fear. “Want to be my wife? We have lots of babies. Strong like me. Beautiful like you.”
Princess Mesyndia could already imagine it. Her belly big and round. Children - half-orc and half-elf - playing in the fields. A longing sigh escaped her lips. This time, it was harder for Vincent to come back to himself again.
That simple fantasy was worrying. He didn't want to be a woman. Or pregnant. Sure, he had a little pregnancy fetish. But on others! Maybe it was a prank by Cassandra? She had determined the stereotype the modified auto-closets had to enforce. But Vincent couldn't help himself and added a little mental twist. The need to procreate. The same need he now felt.
Vincent was about to give a nervous laugh when something else dawned on him. Quickly, he grabbed for his back. There was no seam. The body suit should have one, but he couldn't feel his. Either the body-suit had sealed permanently or this world didn't support the existence of magical body-suits. This meant Vincent was stuck in this ridiculous body and these nefarious urges!
He didn't need to ask why. The reason was quite obvious. Vincent was a loose end. Hadn't Cassandra admitted she couldn't let him fall into the hands of BetterU Incorporated? He was betrayed. The irony of it all wasn't lost on him.
“Princess sad?” Bokborsch asked. His voice was surprisingly soft. “I can make Princess happy. Make wife. Have lots of children!”
And then a new part of Bokborsch rose to the occasion. Lifting his loincloth and soon revealed itself in all its glory. It was the most magnificent dick Princess Mesyndia had ever seen. At once, she felt a fire in her own loins. Arousal flooded her. Thoughts about Cassandra or being Vincent escaped her. There was simply no space. Just a burning need.
Five minutes later, Mesyndia had been carried to the chieftain's hut and was busy getting the brains fucked out. Their lovemaking lasted for hours and as they parted, it was dark outside.
“Fuck you, Cassandra,” Mesyndia whispered as she snuggled against her new husband. But there was no fire behind it. Cassandra would have called it a happy ending. Vincent would have called it a betrayal and tying up loose ends. But both weren't there. Only Princess Mesyndia. And she already dreamt of the large family she would have.
The End
A word by the author.
Hello Readers.
In the last few years, I have been asked by quite a few people to do commissions. Now you know why I don't do that anymore. Past trauma. Burned fingers. Whatever analogy fits.
I hope this stops the many companies requesting collaborations. No, Bikini Beach, I am not going to write about your special upcoming Easter Egg hunt or the many wet t-shirt contests. No matter the offered sum or other ... benefits
And please, all of you who try to get me to advertise your Medallion of Zulo distribution. Cheap fakes with shoddy altered enchantments. And wasn't the purpose of the original Medallion of Zulo to be discovered randomly. So, don't try to bring me into your scams.
And for the love of the goddess, stop trying to hire me as a ghostwriter for memoirs. I am looking at you, SRU Wizard. Besides, didn't you already have someone who did it? Never mind. I don't wanna hear the answer.
So, yeah. I am not up for commissions. Oh, and another thing I probably have to include for legal reasons:
Disclaimer: Cassy_Bee is totally not traveling to different dimensions to retell real stories of people getting gender-bend without giving them royalties. I mean, multiversal travel is not a real thing. Totally.
Anyway. That's everything this time. Thanks for reading.
AND FUCK YOU BETTERU INCORPERATED!!!
Hugs and kisses,
Cassy
PS.:
This story was voted for by my readers on my discord.
If you want to influence what I write next join my discord server here: Cassy's Library
Comments
An interesting story
Not sure about that last part, how common are requests for your work? Speaking for myself I enjoy your writing. I will take what you are willing to give.
Well, for all that they're working against BetterU... Happy ends
Masterful manipulation, and who knows how many layers the mastermind might be hiding under...
Probably this is the real them. Although, that hair color...
But everyone's, except BetterU, is basically happy in the end! Yay!
Totally whacked out
I love it!
If I can find it, I'll post a link to a picture of their future family.
Honor among...
... those who go undercover, lie, cheat, and backstab for a living -- doesn't exist, of course. Ultimately, Vincent was rewarded as a betrayer deserves.
There's also the second oldest con: "You're in on the con."
-- Daphne Xu (a page of contents)