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The Mix-Tape

John leaned back on his couch with his headphones on his head. His head rocked slowly to a classic Linkin Park song. The music was so loud he barely heard a package slam against his front door. With a frown, he lifted up one side of his headphones and heard footsteps walking away from his house.

Hopping up from his bean bag chair, John set down his headphones and made his way over to the door. Peering through, he saw no one was there. There was, however, a big, pink package sitting on his front step. The shape was much bigger than the packages that CDs he ordered usually came in but wasn't quite large enough that it seemed like it might contain something unusual. Still, John smiled and picked it up.

The pink tone was all over the package. It looked like a girl had really gone to town on it. Finding the front, he saw his address handwritten in blue pen. There was no return address. Leaning back a moment, John pondered but couldn't remember purchasing anything lately, especially not anything which might be sent in so pink a box.

Since it did have his address on it, he pulled at one end and walked back inside, kicking his door closed behind him. He settled down on his bean bag chair and gave the box a few more good tugs. The glue was pretty tough but relented after a minute. Peering inside, he saw a great amount of packing chips. He pulled a trash can over and emptied them out. Most of the container was full of them. But at the end of the deluge shifted a small jewel case clinging to the back.

Inside of the case was a single CD with the words "Awesome Mix" written in pen. The back of the case was the generic type which came with writeable CDs. Opening it up, John examined the CD. It was a bland, gray color aside from the writing. Nothing special and no sign of who had sent it.

He tried to think. He had plenty of friends who were into music, but this was a strange way for them to send him something. Shrugging, he figured he might as well check it out. On his computer, he could see seven tracks all in a row. They had random letters and numbers for titles but checked out clean on a scan.

Quickly, John ripped the files to his player and settled onto his bean bag chair to check out the music. Getting comfortable, he clicked the button and played the first track.

It started fast and heavy with a tense beat. He didn't know the song, but it had him hooked with a smile. He listened carefully, trying to pick out some distinguishing bits. He figured he could upload it and ask around later. The singer was female with a haunting, smoky tone to her soft words. As he listened, he felt wrapped up in them, as though in a trance.

As John sat there, breathing slowly, energy through his headphones seeped into his body. At first, it just rushed over him like a slow pulse of light. Then, it got stronger, flowing with the beat. He shut his eyes, not noticing the light.

The first changes happened with his hair. It was black and cropped close over his ears. Rocking with the beat, the hair pulsed out bit by bit, pushing over his ears, dipping down his neck, and creeping over till it settled on his back. Once there, it flipped and shifted with his motions.

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His face vibrated next, as though the bass was pressing into his flesh. It pushed gently on his features with each beat, shrinking them subtly but significantly over time. While he didn't try to say the lyrics with the singer, if he had, he would've noticed the change had come to his voice, altering it so that it sounded much like the voice in his ears.

The soft cheeks he now possessed tensed up with a crescendo as the player moved to the next track on the list.

It was just as epic. It blasted into John and shook down his shoulders and tingled out to his arms. As his fingers tapped out the drumbeats, they became narrow and slender, like his now-soft arms.

Echoes of the music radiated to his chest, which trimmed down, smaller and smaller like the music was ebbing away at his shape.

For an instant, John felt his body instead of the overpowering bass. But he thought it was just an illusion caused by the rhythm and ignored it. He missed the beginning of his breasts with a rising section of the track.

The song became concentrated into a point which focused on his chest. Then it rose like something waking up, flowing out. With it, his chest pushed against the front of his dark shirt, distending it into an obvious, feminine shape.

The slow parts with heavy guitar fed a slopping, evocative curve into his waist and hips bit by bit.

Song flowed into song. John couldn't quite remember where one or the other began, but they all felt like one composition of the most monumental sort. He knew when he was done he would have to send this to all of his friends.

A long note pushed at her behind, filling it out before receding across her slender, smooth legs.

Feeling she was almost at the end of it, John anticipated the climax. It was intense and fast, building and flowing. It made him feel warm, almost like a blazing ember inside his clothes. It crashed and surged all over. He felt a quick rush of embarrassment at the strong feeling in his groin, not realizing he was no longer male in a most significant way.

As the last of the music ended, John leaned up, as though stirring from a trance. He casually slipped his headphones off, which triggered the first realization about his hair. Then looking and catching a glimpse of her womanly chest. Then squirming to sit up and feeling all the things that were suddenly wrong inside her clothes.

She darted to the restroom, trying her best to keep her clothes on with a wide look of shock. She took her time, fussing and shaking her head. And gawking. Then lingering. Then finally exploring what was new.

Sometime later, she ventured out with a satisfied expression. She checked the headphones and tried to play the music again. There was no effect this time. She searched the jewel case for some clues. While this condition was interesting, she wasn't sure she wanted to remain this way forever.

Her answer came in a previously unnoticed bit of paper wedged in the back of the case. It was handwritten as well and reassured her that she would return to normal after waking from a regular night of sleep.

With that sense of relief, John eyed her computer. She had to share this online immediately!