Yuri Worlds [Story and Arc]

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[Yuri Worlds]

This is the first chapter of the fifth narrative and was initially written just last week. No elements from the choose your own adventure concepts I started previously. Despite that, I encourage, as always, readers to offer feedback and poll responses. I have a handful of reveals and plans for the story, but I always welcome ideas that can enrich those foundations.

For this installment, I am experimenting with naming each chapter. Typically the story has a particular name for its length and then an Arc name for this set of characters, but I like the title of Yuri Worlds so much that I’m just gonna use it for the whole thing. This doesn’t preclude a sequel or any other form of follow up. The formatting will be similar to A Rock & Family Vacation/Close Encounters of the Bus Kind. The title and major elements are inspired by my friend, Ninian, and her works.

This installment is especially geared towards being understandable on its own. As with the series as a whole, there are mature adult elements, language, nudity, sexual content, and violence.

Worlds await. With life, love, and possibilities. Light and darkness also follow…

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Yuri Worlds

[1] Preparation

“Thank you, sir. Now, if you download our companion app, you can create, upload, and update the custom girl you will be for your vacation experience. We just ask that you finalize your form at least 24 hours before departure. There are a number of presets to assist in the creation process but, so long as the details are physically possible, we should be able to accommodate any form you prefer. Do keep in mind that whatever alter ego you decide on will be you for your entire trip.”

Franklin Fowler listened intently, bent forward, and tried not to blush. The woman seated on the other side of the frosted glass table was officially called an Experience Coordinator, even though he couldn’t help but think of her as a travel agent. He suspected that job probably had a different name as well now. He was just a little kid the last time he actually saw a travel agent.

They arrived at the Transit Office a little over an hour ago. The expectation was that they would have everything scheduled and completed in fifteen minutes or less. Pre-registration was already done with proof of identity, medical clearance, and transit insurance. The line to be seen laced around the building, and Franklin neglected to use the restroom beforehand.

If Dwight and Guy hadn’t been with him in line, he would’ve crashed and burned within minutes. The amount of digital paperwork they needed to complete rivaled the DMV. At least most of the stuff he needed to do just involved initials and signatures. Not helping was the fact that the Experience Coordinator was quite attractive. A shimmering, holographic band that appeared to float above her lapel gave her name as Sheila. If Dwight was nearby, Franklin knew he wouldn’t be able to resist putting on an exaggerated Australian accent.

Sheila had light brown hair shaped into a dome around her head with a neat bun at the back. Unlike everyone else he’d so far encountered here, she deeply intimidated him. No matter how many articles were written online about the process of multiverse travel and fitting in, speaking the idea out loud of going to a world only of anime girls and posing as one for the duration made him feel so embarrassed. Sheila was professional about it but, on top of the digestive chaos, he had so much trouble figuring out where to comfortably rest his eyes. Her eyes were too piercing. And the rest of her instilled a flush, out of control heat in Franklin.

It wasn’t so much his hormones, although they lurked around, but a thought-destroying fear that she was judging him. What a total perv, he assumed she had to be thinking behind her smile. Not only did he want to go to a place where only girls existed, but he was going to take on the appearance of one too.

Franklin found a way to breathe and answered, “Understood. Yeah.“

Sheila replenished her professional smile and continued, “Your appointment is on Monday at 7:45 AM. As you can see with how busy we are today, it’s recommended that you arrive an hour to ninety minutes before your departure. Less than an airport, but that will ensure that our technicians will be able to prepare your trip. The process is instantaneous. You may experience some side effects afterward, commonly ranging from disorientation to brief nausea, vertigo, transitory body dysphoria, and blurry vision. A couple documents I’ll give you will elaborate. There are copies on our website. At the waypoint in your journey, you’ll be checked out, placed with your tour group, and then allowed to proceed. Your host or hosts shall greet you soon after. That’s all. At the end of your trip, make sure you return here within 24 hours of your scheduled time to avoid reversion.”

Franklin nodded throughout. That was one of the most important things in the documentation. In bold with red letters: Don’t overstay your visit. If you do, then you will be banned from ever traveling again. The illusion of fitting in with the other universe will vanish, and you will be left as an alarming abnormality. How people from here looked was not a big secret. But there were some sort of cultural agreements he didn’t really understand, along with the dangers of being exposed to the physics, particles, and natural laws of another universe. People online called it the Melting, and that’s all he desired to know.

The only other important point that Sheila expressed was that time moved eight percent slower in this universe. That meant even though the trip was scheduled to last two weeks, it would actually be slightly over a day shorter. Before Franklin could get lost in his brain trying to do the math on that, she passed him a small, black synchronization watch. This wasn’t the special wristband they would be receiving at the waypoint. It was already set to the local time. A little before five in the afternoon. The time in the other world was after six. Sheila advised him that on Monday the times would match closely. He trusted that this was correct.

Receiving a fancy, thick blue folder with the Travel Anywhere logo emblazoned across the front, Franklin managed to get a quick, painful, but non-bleeding paper cut when fumbling for it. Sheila offered him a space-themed bandage, but he just tucked it in his pocket. He reached out a hand to shake hers but accidentally timed it as she was turning away to check on something. Darting his hand back, he asked an unnecessary question about billing paperwork and fees, which she already answered. He shuffled away quietly after thanking her.

Dwight and Guy were waiting for him at the front. Franklin stared pathetically at the occupied restroom and sighed. Hopping up from the generic metal and plastic chair, Dwight firmly pressed Franklin on the shoulder, his bright blue eyes shimmering in the afternoon light, and declared, “Let’s go eat and talk tits! Sunroom Cafe. Can you make it?” Guy drifted over and beamed, “I hope they have something spicy!”

Just being around his friends lowered Franklin‘s gurgling anxiety and made his heart settle in his chest. He smiled and nodded to Dwight’s question. A surge of energy encouraged him to want to lead the three of them, but Dwight more naturally settled into that role.

The parking lot outside was stuffed to the edge, at least as far as the clothing shops and the wellness spa on the side. A boxy paint store and a sporting goods chain flanked the other end. The next street over had a swap meet, a supermarket repurposed into a gym, and an auto mall.

Guy’s car, which they took here and Dwight drove, was far on the edge towards the street, flanked by unnaturally bright islands of grass. The gurgles surged back and methodically assaulted Franklin’s guts as he did slow breathing and listened to Guy sing a recent pop song to himself. He couldn’t resist smiling despite his discomfort. Not because Guy was a good singer. Far from it. His voice warbled, squawked at points, and had far more exuberance than control.

In contrast to that harsh sound, Guy Horner was easy on the eye. He had sleek, brown irises; sculpted feathery eyebrows; soft, pert lips traced with subtle pink; and a smattering of freckles. Small golden earrings dangled from his lobes with his curly, light brown hair tugged back into a loose bun across his shoulder. He was clad all in his usual bright pink but lacking the fluttering skirt from earlier. Despite the fact he wasn’t wearing a bra, stuffed or otherwise, a faint, suggestive dent settled in his blouse. None of his attire was different from any other day. At odds with all that was his starkly masculine speech.

Dwight burst out in a measured, soft, bright voice. It emerged, angelically, from his beard-encircled lips. Franklin appreciated the distraction and struggled to add a few bars of his own as they passed the gym and a gratuitously overpriced sandwich shop. Fortunately, Sunroom Cafe had a prominently featured restroom right at the front. But it was currently occupied.

A young woman with several menus under her arm greeted them and asked, “Where would you all like to be seated?”

Guy wore a mischievous grin as he boldly responded in his deepest voice, “In the sun!”

“Nice and bright,” Dwight chirped softly.

In just seconds, the woman looked like she’d gained several mental years and desperately wished she was paid more. She didn’t drift into a scowl but quietly directed them to a table basking in the late-day sun. Franklin considered joining in but couldn’t think of anything worthwhile or clever to say. Mercifully, the men’s restroom soon opened up.

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

Relief came in uncomfortable stages rather than a spontaneous release, with him hunched over his cell phone and considering whether to open up the app and fiddle with the details of his female alter ego for the trip. After wavering for several minutes, he ultimately decided to use his limited mobile data to instead re-download a puzzle game distraction.

After washing up, he looked at himself in the mirror. Anything probably would’ve been better, he told himself. So many people he talked to asserted that he was a good-looking man. Like a young William H. Macy. It took him a long time to even figure out who that was supposed to be. His head had a narrow verticality that he wasn’t particularly comfortable with. Muted brown hair swept across his head with a curved swoop above his left ear. Despite not yet being gray, it felt like someone had sprinkled salt and pepper across his head.

His eyes were lined, like his features were a pale bedsheet not quite pulled straight. Broad, puffy, faint eyebrows spread above his eyes. In too many ways, he thought he looked sickly. One feature people often noted were his absolutely massive hands. He appreciated the suggestions that came with them, even though they were wrong.

Back at the table, Dwight and Guy pointed out which items on the menu they thought Franklin might enjoy. Dwight had settled on the tri-tip, while Guy wanted Cajun chicken. It took Franklin a while to figure out which salad he really wanted.

Once the waitress took their orders and a certain stillness had settled over their section of the restaurant, Dwight declared, “I’m going with M-cups. The big honkers.” He held his hands out in a cupping motion many inches away from his body. This surprised neither Guy nor Franklin.

Guy leaned forward with his hands folded under his chin and questioned, “Are you sure you can handle massive tits for two weeks?” Franklin felt a little sweaty, glancing around curiously. No one was in the vicinity, and no one appeared to be looking in their direction with curiosity or confusion, even though the cooks in the kitchen were close enough that they might be able to hear something.

Dwight nodded. “I figure a kimono can easily wrap up my mega puppies. Haven’t you seen chicks online wearing something simple, they lift up their tops, and there’s practically watermelons hidden underneath? They’re sending us with plenty of custom clothes. It’ll be fine. But it’s not just the tits. I got a bunch of special settings in mind for girl me.”

Counting off on his fingers, he explained, “Slightly over 5 feet. Yeah, still figuring out metric. Small bladder. Relatively weak. Needs big glasses. Wide hips. Of course, they can’t really do anything mental, but I might roleplay her as submissive.”

Guy leaned back with his slight eyebrows raised. “Bro, are you sure you want to mess with your bladder? We’re going to be sightseeing, and that means long bus rides, ancient shrines without modern plumbing, and hills and stuff. And you want to go all Betsy Wetsy?”

That did lead Dwight to briefly hesitate before he responded, “I see your point, but I am steering clear of incontinence. I also understand that it’s not a great idea, but this may be the only time I take a vacation quite like this, and I have some things I need on my list.”

Guy listened diligently and wiggled his head. “I’m not gonna try to dissuade you from your kinks. I just don’t want us to be several days deep as anime girls and you’re moping on a futon not having a good time because you got some super colorful UTI.”

Anime girls… yep. Travel Anywhere skirted around that exact terminology. Instead, painterly persons. Artistic beings. Drawn life. And the entire world… The entire universe… As far as anyone could tell… Was female. It wasn’t their most popular travel destination, but it had a decent following. And, because of Guy’s connections, it was relatively cheap to charter a trip. Way cheaper than traveling across this world.

Picking up his phone, Dwight accessed his Photos App and showed off a digital artwork. The background was simple, with what looked like pink flowers and leaves completely out of focus. The figure in the center had pastel pink hair swooped back, partly like Sheila‘s style. The rest of it sprawled across her shoulders. Round glasses covered her shut eyes, and she had a white sliver representing her teeth with a pink blob of a tongue in her open mouth. Her tiny arms held the hem of her pleated red skirt as though it were a more substantial dress. Nothing naughty was revealed, but her thighs were thick, and her butt was especially prominent in that skirt. Her most obvious trait were the massive breasts contained within a text-covered white top. Each dwarfed her head. Franklin had to admit that, rendered like that, she didn’t appear grotesque, but he honestly had no interest in inhabiting a body like that.

That wasn’t the only image Dwight had to show. A variety of artists depicted the same girl with a similar look. Some of the images in his collection were clearly generated by machine learning, but most were hand drawn. Guy smiled and asked, “Your Experience Coordinator really didn’t have any concerns?”

With a sly smile, Dwight turned up his hands and admitted, “Just a few. And some questions. But she didn’t say anything was wrong with her.”

Franklin looked between the artistically rendered busty woman on the screen and his friend in the seat across the table. The woman was amusingly accurate to all the details he had shared, but Franklin couldn’t escape the notion that it seemed like the two of them were from entirely different universes.

Dwight might take that the wrong way if he said it out loud though. He was balding slightly, with a sparse scrabble of dark hair high on his head and a barren patch in roughly the same spot that Franklin liked to part his locks. His crew cut had lost its sharpness over the last couple weeks, and the first traces of a mullet were beginning to assert themselves. Guy liked to hint that Dwight strongly resembled the character played by Riker on the old Gargoyles animated show. He thought that Dwight’s extensive beard made him look more like a proper post-season-two Riker. Dwight hated his eyebrows and how they naturally slanted in and made him look “nefarious”.

”Did you nail Misaki yet?” Without any sort of warning, Franklin felt attention turn to him. Dwight’s piercing eyes and Guy’s curious gaze were sharply concentrated on him. He bought himself some time by drinking the ice water placed in front of him by their waitress. Chewing on the tiny ice balls also helped.

He pressed Dwight about that particular phrasing, and he flashed him a knowing smirk. Franklin struggled with his response.

“It’s…still a work in progress. It’s frustrating. I had that one week set aside, and I was going to make this whole backstory and refine all her details. And everything. I’m not even a hundred percent sure of her last name. I’m still questioning whether I should go with Misaki. It means 'beautiful blossom' but also a bunch of other things, which I don’t know if the locals will interpret one way or another. I also know as a surname, Takano…it’s three blossoms, and you guys said you like that because it’s kind of symbolic of the three of us going on this trip.“

Franklin sighed and rubbed at his sparse hair as though he wanted to scratch it loose. Guy slowly but firmly laid a hand on Franklin‘s hands before proclaiming, “Bro…chill. It’s just a name. Takano Misaki… yeah, surname first. Japanese like even though they’re not really Japanese, but this other universe version of here which happens to be living art anime girls. It’s crazy… Just have fun with it. That’s what I do every stream with all my craziness. Make sense?”

All the encouragement, energy, and words that his friends were heaping on his uncertainty actually made things feel worse. He wanted to just give them a victory where they made him feel better and the crap that his brain dealt with shut up. But he was stuck.

With a long sigh, Guy drew back his hands and cleared his throat before declaring, “There’s just one resolution then. Drastic measures. I warned you. You would have to suffer the consequences if soul-enveloping happiness didn’t consume you at every step of our fun vacation together. You’re going to have to be my adorable, anime girl sister.”

Franklin’s eyes widened. “W-what?”

Pulling out his phone, Guy flashed an image of his own. It wasn’t the image that he had been showing them ever since they started working on their travel alter egos. What Guy wanted drifted primarily towards one-piece navy blue swimsuits with white trim, slim figures, and fancy twin tails. And especially stark shades of bright blue hair to lampshade his blue sentiment “femboy” nature despite all the changes.

This image was of a girl with his distinctively pink attire, wide hips, and slim shoulders, but her hair… it made him think of a grape Jolly Rancher set in the sun and stretched like fabric. Or like spun stained glass. Those were the clearest aspects, but little traces here and there appeared vividly inspired by his still-a-work-in-progress version of Misaki.

Guy giggled and pronounced, “You’re gonna be my big sister, onee-chan!”