Okay, if I was going clubbing - and apparently I was - then I needed to get a few things right, first. The first part was easy enough - figuring out a form to go clubbing with. I was tempted to just use the same form I’d been in when I was walking around - partly because any theoretical observers might find it a bit suspicious if a hot redhead entered my room and never left, but also because it was just plain hot. Flowing red hair, legs for days, wide hips, bubble butt, and deliciously huge boobs. In fact, there was no real reason to even think about it! With a simple thought, I’d shifted my body - or maybe it would be better to call it my avatar? So I didn’t get confused, and think it was my body? Whatever. I shifted it back with a basic thought.

The more important thing to figure out was what I was going to dress my form in. Again, it didn’t take much thought. I’d daydreamed about being a girl plenty of times, after all, and you’d better believe those daydreams had come with some glorious outfits! The stuff guys could wear was so boring compared to what the woman’s section could offer, after all. Hell, half the reason why I always imagined myself as a girl was just so that I could imagine myself in some of the nicer looking outfits I’d seen around town!

For tonight? I was going to go slutty. High heeled shoes, a red halter top that stopped short so suddenly it barely kept my breasts contained, and a skirt so tiny that it just barely covered more than my panties. It was daring - way more daring than even I’d normally dare to go! - but I had a super power that kept me from worrying about it! It was called ‘treating it like a video game character and not my real body!’ It took away most of my shame, and doubled as a way to keep me from getting too attached to the female form! Wouldn’t do to want what wasn’t mine, you know?

It also helped that my outfit was made of goo. Y’know, the hyper responsive substance that obeyed my every command? It might look like nothing but plain cloth, but that didn’t mean it was going to flutter in the wind like the real thing. Similarly, there was no chance of my breasts actually slipping free of my shirt, or the material pulling that last inch up and over my nipples, to flash the crowd. Not unless I wanted to, anyways, but I couldn’t see myself going that route.

“So?” I called out, walking out the bathroom door to show off my change in clothing. With a hand on my hip, and a happy wink, I asked, “What do you think? On a scale of ten to eleven, I mean.”

Clarissa didn’t reply right away. She just sort of stared at me, eyes wide, like she was taking in my whole form. Then, after a moment of silence, a goofy grin broke across her face. “Hellooooo, hottie. You wanna go get a coffee, or something? I know this great place, right outside-”

“Uh, Clarissa?” I interrupted. “It’s me, Olivi… I mean, uh… Max? Your childhood friend? Hello?” 

For some reason, my old name felt bitter on my tongue. Because I’d been forced to break character, maybe? Either way, it worked. Clarissa blinked, then blushed, shaking her head from right to left. 

“Right, right… sorry… hot girl routine kinda kicked in before I knew it.”

“In her defense,” Chrys chimed in, “you weren’t exactly sounding like yourself. Since when have you had such a high opinion of your looks?”

“Uh, since I earned the right to hand-pick them, maybe?” I countered, putting a hand on my hip.

“No, she’s right,” Clarissa repeated. “You’re acting… different. Like you’re really getting into the role of a hot girl, or something!”

“Yeah?” I frowned, taking a moment to think it over. “Maybe it’s ‘cause it just feels natural acting like this in this body? Like… this is how I imagine a super fun and slutty party girl might act, y’know?”

“So what?” Chrys asked. “You’re suddenly a wonderful actor?”

“Well, she has been acting like a guy all her life,” Clarissa threw in. “Though I wouldn’t say she’s been very good at it. Maybe you’re changing your brain along with your body?”

“Pretty sure I’d know if this one’s brain was getting messed with,” Chrys argued.

“Pretty sure that’s not as reassuring as you think it is,” I sniped back.

…Maybe I was acting a bit different than I normally did? Though I still felt like myself. It was just… I don’t know. I was just finding it really natural to fall into the body’s role. Whenever I imagined myself looking anything like I currently did, I’d always be thinking of a slutty, confident, maybe ever so slightly bitchy girl who’d shut down all opponents with a smirk and a casual clever retort. Now, it was easy to slip into those shoes. Comfortable, even. More comfy than anything my own body had to offer, anyways… Probably because I didn’t feel like I needed to deal with the consequences of anything that happened to this temporary form.

“Ooooh!” Clarissa shouted, holding up her hand. “Why don’t you try turning into a bimbo? Then we can see if your brain’s actually changing or not!”

“What? No! What if I couldn’t turn back?” I snapped, horrified.

“Worse comes to worst, she’d just have to knock you unconscious to restore your normal form… in all likelihood,” Chrys told me, in what was totally for sure a reassuring voice, and not… I don’t know, the exact opposite of that? 

“Yeah!” Clarissa agreed, nodding. “Worse comes to worst, I just fuck you until you pass out!”

“Uh, pretty sure that’s not what she said!” I protested, glaring at my bestie. “And what happened to seeing me like a sibling, anyways?”

“I said sister. Though I guess that proves it’s still you in there, which is good, ‘cause you’re acting more and more like some random bitch by the second. Also? You’re more like a… step-sister, I guess? I mean, we’re not related by blood - or, y’know, at all - and you’re… not exactly yourself right about now, either, so you know…”

“Yeah?” I asked, arching an eyebrow. I couldn’t wait to hear how she was gonna dig herself out of this one.

“I guess you’re more like… a friend of a sister, when you’re in this form? But sorta the opposite, maybe? You know how you can’t just go fuck your sister’s bestie, but you can theoretically get into a relationship with them and then fuck them if nothing goes to shit? It’s kinda like that, except in reverse - dating you feels wrong, but fucking you is fine, y’know? Especially when you’re not even acting like yourself, anyways.”

“...So you like my body, not my mind?” I summarized, thoroughly unimpressed.

Clarissa just nodded eagerly though, shooting me a grin and giving me a thumb’s up. “Exactly, dude! Knew you’d get it.”

I just sighed. I couldn’t believe I’d found it sweet - even if only for a moment - when Clarissa called me like family… I wanted my emotional investment back, dammit! Why the hell was I even friends with this horny bimbo?

“Okay, but seriously dude,” Clarissa suddenly said, putting on a serious face, “have you ever even been to a club before? Because if you’re going for the first time as a hot chick, we’re going to need to cover some serious ground rules. Like making sure you’re never outside of my sight, alright? I don’t care if you have to bonk me over the head and send me to horny jail, just to keep me from chasing after some pretty skirt - do it. Or, even better, just rub your own honkers in my face - I’ll be too blissed out to wander away for a good minute, after that, and I’ll sure as hell notice if anyone tries to snatch you away from me in the meantime. I get crazy possessive when a girl actually gives me attention, you know?”

“You are a pain in the ass,” I grumbled. At the same time, I couldn’t help the tiny smile tugging at the corner of my lip. Clarissa was… sweet…? For some definition of the word, anyways. “Aren’t you going to advise me not to drink anything anyone offers me, either?”

“Dude, you’re made of violet ooze! Does it matter?”

“...Good point. Chrys?”

“Nope! I can use your magic pool to detect and neutralize any toxins… so go ahead and make as many bad decisions as you want! You won’t even have a hangover when it ends!”

“Lucky,” Clarissa muttered, crossing her arms and glaring at me.

I just rolled my eyes, choosing not to dignify it with a public response. Which was maybe the wrong move, as it only annoyed her into throwing her burrito wrapper at the back of my head.

“What the hell!?”

“What?” Clarissa asked, putting a hand against her chest and giving me her best ‘who me?’ impression. “I just wanted to let you know that you’ve still got a little problem.”

“And what problem is that?” I demanded. For a moment, I actually considered shrinking my bust, just so that I could more easily cross my arms in front of my chest… but I couldn’t go through with it, so my hands were back on my hips instead.

“Your eyes? I know colored contacts are a thing, but a lot of people are gonna find violet a turn off, even on a chick gorgeous enough to make straight girls go gaga.”

“My eyes?” I echoed, curiously, before turning towards the bathroom. Moving back into the stall, I took a good look at myself for the first time - at the cute faced hottie in the mirror. She had puffed out lips, a rounded jaw, smooth cheeks, and… violet eyes. They were supposed to be green. “What the hell…”

Eyes are the windows to the soul, Chrys said in my head, suddenly. And your soul’s been bonded to the ooze, Olivia. You’ll never escape it, no matter how long you live… So take advantage of it and have some fun, alright? 

I blinked, not having expected the sudden serious tone of Chrys’ message. Putting aside the whole creep factor of having her whisper that in my brain, I was a bit more scared of the implications of what she’d said. “So you’re saying I’m stuck with purple eyes forever, then? Isn’t that gonna give me away?”

“Seriously?” Clarissa asked, catching me off guard. I’d momentarily forgotten she was there. “Well shit… Where do people get colored contact lenses, anyways?”

“From optometrists, usually,” Chrys informed us. “You need a prescription.” 

“For contacts that don’t even work?” I asked, aghast. How was I supposed to explain purple eyes at an official appointment? “Can we use your deceit field, or whatever?”

“The deception-field? It could get you through the doctor’s appointment, but you’d leave a paper trail… why not try a more creative solution to your problem?”

“Meaning?” I pressed, tapping my heeled toes on the carpeted floor. 

“Use the goo! It can change its texture, its opacity, and its color, can’t it? Make your own contact lenses!”

“That sounds… complicated,” Clarissa declared. “Like, way too complicated. Isn’t this, like… putting a piece of glass in your eyes, or something?”

“It’s not glass,” Chrys said. “And it probably won’t be any form of plastic, or anything else artificial, either! More like a membrane! An artificial eyelid that never opens or closes but just stays stuck in place! A-”

“I get it already,” I interrupted, holding up a hand. “It’s, like, gotta be natural or whatever, right? Can’t I just let the goo handle it, or something? They’ve managed everything else I’ve asked.”

“Nothing else you asked was as delicate as an organic membrane around your eye,” Chrys pointed out.

“Well, we won’t know until we try,” I pointed out, putting a finger to my shirt. A thread detached from the hem, turning purple as it coiled up in my hand, then thinned itself down, turning transparent and curved until it looked like a contact lens. Then, a moment later, the green began to flow in a circle around the edges, forming an iris. Without hesitation - trusting the slime not to hurt me, no matter what - I stuck the substance in my eye. 

It was… gross. Slimy. The iris didn’t move properly with my eyes, either - parts of the world were suddenly painted green, and the world as a whole looked just a little off, as if I was viewing it through a screen. Which I guess I was? But I was pretty sure it wasn’t meant to feel like that.

“Maybe we just go with sunglasses?” Clarissa suggested.

“No way,” I replied, shaking my head. “I got this! We got this! I just need to keep trying…” And trying, and trying, and trying, as it turned out. I managed to iron out the texture, eventually, and even kept the world from looking green, but no matter what I did I couldn’t get through the weirdness of looking through them. Like staring at the world through a thick plane of glass.

Eventually, Chrys piped up with the bright idea of checking the web for images on how lenses actually worked, which helped immensely. It turned out magic worked best when you had a clear image in your brain.

Who knew?

“So… time to go clubbing?” I asked.

“Dude…” Clarissa groaned. “It’s 8 AM.”

“Is that a no?” I asked, my lips twisting up into a pout. I’d put so much hard work into getting this to work! And for what?

“Tonight,” Clarissa promised, laying herself down on the couch. “Right now, I just wanna catch some Zs. You… maybe wanna drop the party persona body for a bit, and go back to being Casual Olivia? It might do you some good.”

“Not as much good as a party,” I muttered, before reluctantly letting my transformation end. My skin turned purple again, and a moment later my hips and thighs began to swell, as my body slightly shortened and my boots turned into slippers. A tension I hadn’t been aware of eased out of me, and I slumped forward, barely able to keep from yawning. “Guess I’ll… go to bed…”

Strangely, as I walked back to my room, I thought I felt a little less disappointed about missing the party than I had a minute ago. In fact, if anything, I was once again a little scared of going to a club, in the first place.

Weird.

~~~

Author's Notes

I once again wrote this while incredibly sleep deprived. Not on purpose, or anything - I just struggled to fall asleep the night befor, and yet wanted to get a chapter to you all the same, so... Shrugs

Regardless, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! It's... not at all what I expected. In fact, I'm afraid I must vindicate anyone who's ever expected this story to go off the rails, because the whole body affecting her thing wasn't really planned either... It just happened.

I've written it, though, so there's no going back now! So say the vague rules of this "I'm not going to overthink this series" plan!