Novels2Search
Interactive TG Fiction
[6] Shifting the Sci-Fi Guy 6 [Transform the Dorm]

[6] Shifting the Sci-Fi Guy 6 [Transform the Dorm]

Shifting the Sci-Fi Guy

[6]

The effusive, bubbly feeling of Connor’s proposal and the moments after had no equal. The emotion that flowed through me was both deliriously harmonious and scary. All sorts of analogies traced part of the sentiment. Looking back at the Cathedral, I could even strain to say there was a numinous quality to it. Like someone injected me with liquid sunbeams and starlight and my bloodstream had no idea how to process them. And I had this unshakable sense like the racing vision of my life had finally come into focus. I probably sounded like some version of drunk and high at the same time. The neurotransmitter combo in my skull had been vigorously shaken and stirred like a cocktail. Definitely, an altered state.

This delirium lingered as we walked, and all thought of anything else around us fell away to focus solely on Connor. I had no idea that we were walking next to the ivy-covered library. I couldn’t have told you a single thing about it moments later, along with the gym workout area and weight room. Only the vaguest notion crossed my mind that it still existed. Instead, my mind was filled with Connor.

It might seem silly to say that she had become my world, but that was the simplest explanation. My brain was obsessed. Connor Connor Connor Connor Connor Connor Connor Connor Connor Connor… absolutely everything had to do with Connor. And when it got tired of that, it switched over to Riona. Riona Riona Riona Riona Riona Riona Riona Riona Riona Riona… was something inside me broken? I felt stuck in place like a disc scratched through to the label layer. Something missing I was searching for and yet something had overflowed through me.

Could I blame this on being a girl or on being in love? The weirdest quality was feeling like I had no object permanence. Any moment I looked away from Riona, my mind was gripped with fear that she had vanished from my life and I had to look back and assuage my panic that I was still touching her and she was still with me and we were still walking together to get a burger. Usually, when I walked with a friend or just someone around the dorm to go get some food, we would typically shoot the shit with a loosely connected variety of topics relating to music, recent shows, what assignments we had, or what we hoped they were serving despite all that information clearly and exhaustively posted on the university website.

In this moment, my brain was leaking a thousand channels of things that I desperately needed to ask and say to Connor but each of them sounded screamingly ridiculous to say aloud. Simultaneously, the moment needed nothing else but the whisper of the wind, the patter of distant feet, and the sound of our motions. I should’ve been overwhelmed by the persistent jiggling and sway of my unfamiliar body, but all that fell away against the radiance of Riona. And the weirdest thing was I wasn’t locked onto any particular quality of her being or physical attributes. The shimmers of her overflowing, crinkly hair didn’t invite me to render sonnets and songs. The slim shape of her arms didn’t dance for me in the waning afternoon. I had seen all of her and so much more in her bed, but the saucy secret now concealed didn’t invite a naughty smile or a blissful reminiscence.

The suggestion of her hips and waist fell into familiar territory. Zach would’ve enjoyed the view on any day, and Trisha didn’t complain. The reminder that I was Trisha and I had a decent amount of slim waist, prominent hips, and a fair ass briefly startled me as much as one of Connor’s surprise embraces, even though I was intimately conscious of all those details. Hers were different though. It was again like sharing something that slid in through my consciousness and melted deep inside before the next dose appeared and overwhelmed me. I had really freaking long hair too and the warmth of it bordered on a makeshift jacket or a fur coat sweating across my neck and back. Seeing and observing Riona was also seeing and absorbing myself.

Was I even really here? This had to be some sort of waking dream or virtual reality. I couldn’t be walking persistently with girly legs stretching out of an impossible skirt I would never wear in my life, along with cute shoes, and a subtly shifted swing to my hips. Childbearing hips? I don’t know. They felt big and foreign and yet just right for me. And then I couldn’t get beyond my tits. I could barely see beyond them like this. They were big enough to part and settle as comfortably as possible when in bed but my bra restricted them in place and also invoked a magic spell to make them both feel bigger and larger and smaller and lighter and yet make them seem like a more natural part of my body. I was rambling internally as much as I often did when presented with a five-page essay for some English course.

Riona‘s thighs. It felt especially naughty to linger there. The way her yoga pants clung to her body brought an echoing shudder through mine. I should’ve gotten hard, although my vision-consuming pillows were making a firm effort in that direction. The remnants of earlier reawakened, and still seemed rather gross, but there was a spinning, whirling chaotic engine energy seeking to twist my inner being in all directions. Empty and yet as far from empty as I could ever imagine. The two of us had never been like this and I should’ve been scared and panicking that so many touchstones of how I defined myself were lost and softly submerged. But I was keen for it, to melt in a dozen different ways.

What could I have possibly said to Connor if she asked what I was thinking? Anything short of a novel or a term paper would’ve felt like glossing over it. I braced myself against one of her stray, playful glances, but she didn’t pursue me. Was this simply being in love? No casual infatuation in my life had sunk so deeply into my soul. Even those impossible girls I had an earnest crush on couldn’t compare. Perhaps it was the strangeness of events along with fervent and reciprocated affection. Connor… Liked me too. She loved me. She proposed marriage. He had the hots for me before any of this. Was that the secret ingredient? Twu wuv.

That broke me even more. I had to slow down and dissolve in a relentless spasm of uncontrollable, maniacal giggles. I probably presented the weirdest sight for poor Connor and anyone in earshot. Maybe something akin to Harley Quinn losing her last trace of sanity. Lock me up.

The spasm continued past any level of enjoyment to reach the stage of painful hiccups or a leg spasm. With my blurry eyes and roiling body, I feared I might lose all bladder control next. What seemed to feed into the giggles was hearing my own giggles. They were higher pitched than I was ever used to and the absurdity of such feminine tittering coming out of me had to be the funniest thing of all. It took a cough and a throat-clearing breath to finally free me from their enchantment. Once it was done, I honestly didn’t feel like laughing again for days from the exhaustion of my diaphragm.

Connor genuinely scrutinized me with her lovely, narrowed eyes as I adjusted my clothes and tried to bring everything back in order. Of course, she asked me if I was all right and what that was. After a few breaths, I conveyed my amusement at remembering a scene from the Princess Bride. Connor smirked at the memory but didn’t have even close to the same reaction as me. I forced out a few, careful artificial giggles just to make my point. Reflecting, I concluded, “Things have been crazy, and I just needed a laugh because it’s all felt like too much to keep inside.”

She frowned and admonished me for keeping things inside. I heavily downplayed the scope of the things I was holding back. I marked them as random stresses about the insecurity of reality, what might’ve happened to our families, the looming biological elements that came with the female sex, and just being out in the world. Her answer was to give me a hug like a slowly crashing, consuming wave. I was lost at sea and it was fine.

I drifted atop her energy as we approached the main walkway connecting the north and south ends of the campus and made it to the front with the freshman dormitories, the cafeteria, the bookstore, and all the other food options that lay before us. A local burger chain now occupied the circular café which I had traded out with so many different businesses in the history of the university. Starbucks used to be there along with a Jamba Juice, but Starbucks got its own location while Jamba Juice moved over to the Humanities area. I liked the burger place because they had massive steak fries as an option and over a dozen varieties of sauce.

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

Unlike most days, the line wasn’t too bad. Typically, it might extend into the loop around the nearest building but there were just a handful of girls scattered by the door. Everyone’s eyes got a little bit bigger when we showed up. I could tell exactly where they were looking. One girl to the left with chestnut reddish hair down to her shoulders had her blue top stretched forward as she looked down at and adjusted her bra. That didn’t necessarily mean that she was a boy turned into a girl. The girl next to her had a brushed plume of streaked blonde hair and a strapless white top. An Asian girl in front of them had on what looked like a purple bathrobe over a black and white bikini. I wondered if that counted as a shirt for the shirt and shoes service requirement. If only she brought along her towel in case of Vogons.

The girl next to her wore clear-frame, round glasses and had a dark orange top on with a lot of midriff and black pants loosely around her waist. And the one in front of her actually looked really cute with a soft pixie cut. Hard to tell why some people wound up with more and less hair or more and less to their figure. Genetics? We already prodded it with science and found ginormous holes even though I took after my aunt with ginormous… other things.

I knew Connor’s family though and none of the female members tipped the scales in the personal pillows department. And I met several of Kuni‘s relatives and only his grandparents were that short. And vice versa with Simon and a single uncle who was over six feet. Again, it seemed desperately futile to try to rationalize what seemed to clearly be a fantastical transformation of the entire campus. But I sensed rules existed.

Our roommates remembered who we were before. And we remembered Taylor. Perhaps if you saw someone altered and you were altered as well, then you remembered your original version of reality. Contacting our families would definitely be more evidence in that direction or away from it. But that wasn’t something I wanted to do unless I had to. Eventually… Especially with the churning truth and possibilities Connor infused me with. How would my parents react to me dating …and more… my childhood best friend? Did the same-sex angle enter into it?

I had slightly older but very calm parents. Dad loves Toastmasters and pointed pontification. A good old debate on the bridge of a starship. Kirk the geek. Mom appreciated him even more, Shatner having been her very first television crush. She even went as far as sending him affectionate fan letters. Dad keeps such things much closer to his chest. He liked Picard too but found him to be much more impetuous, especially with the whole bar fight and getting stabbed. Would they find their daughter and her best friend, Riona, hooking up to be romantic or concerning? I just didn’t have enough clear evidence to know.

Connor bumped me gently with a smile and that shook loose my general stupor of diving into quiet reflection. One thought lingered. The language of things felt different. Just thinking and reflecting on the girls around me. Something was different.

Unfortunately, that was as far as I could pick apart the feeling and translate it. The best I could grapple with was a disassociation with the frame of reference. We both really liked girls, especially as guys. We had ideas about them based on appearance and assumption.

I tried to look at the girls in front of me with a different sense. The chestnut one looked like she had a lot of different thought processes going on. She kept her top both loose and gripped it in her fingers. Her expression belied nerves. I sensed she was trying to keep her mouth on an even keel, avoiding a frown or a smile. And the others. I could see the fidgeting along with careful hair adjustment to avoid smudging fresh makeup. Others seemed quietly excited to either get out of here or to arrive. And there were so many little traits spread throughout the group that could tell me so much.

Don’t think me a caveman, but what struck me right then was the sense that these girls, no matter how they may have been in the morning, were… Human. I totally wanted to smack myself.

Of course, girls are human. Girls are people. But, with the chaotic energy of hormones, it can be painfully obvious how certain features and surface traits get drawn into focus far more than the whole picture. A fixation on sexual qualities. And I had no idea where this is coming from. Were my new, domineering sexual traits desensitizing me to them in general? My brain tousled with feminist aspects while trying not to denounce my male self that hard. If I grew up as a busty girl and hard, muscular men like I had a little slice of in my bedroom were the Other, then surely estrogen would’ve made me talk about how if only my best friend was a hot dude, and we could suck each other off. That was as far as I went with that thought because prying it open revealed sensations I wasn’t quite ready to deal with yet.

The menu and the layout of the burger joint were exactly the same as any other day on campus. No adjustments or alterations to appease the traditional, alleged appetites of an all-girl population. There were salads as well as meat alternatives but those had been there for years. The portions and pricing also remained the same. I hadn’t put any of my languid, wandering thoughts toward what I wanted to eat but Connor soon put that question to me. It didn’t take long for her to raise a pretty eyebrow at my immediate hesitancy in scanning the board. Make a choice.

“The tenderloin sandwich.”

Connor checked the board and squinted before looking back at me. “Without onions, right?”

Oh. Yeah of course but… Wait. So much had changed about me, perhaps I didn’t have a bad reaction to onions anymore? Did I really want to risk it? Aside from the onions, they had the calories posted and it was a pretty big number. I could usually put it away easily, but my size and biology were different. Then again, having a lot of protein was healthy and, aside from the dense ciabatta bread, there were a lot of really good vegetables mixed in there. Maybe I didn’t have to eat the whole thing all at once. Half here and maybe half to take home for a snack?

After a little bit of wavering, I nodded my head and resolved that was my order. Along with a small drink to try their newest mixed mango papaya limeade. I motioned to retrieve my wallet, but Connor slipped ahead and paid for everything. With my sandwich, she advised them to put the onions on the side and got the zesty mayo that I liked. Additionally, she included a large zucchini and onion ring mix to share and ordered herself the fried chicken sandwich.

I was left standing there with a mix of emotions combining feeling flattered and embarrassed and wanting to do something nice for Connor while totally flummoxed again and slightly flustered too. It didn’t help that I tried to press Connor for what I could do in return and she just swiveled slightly and smirked as she responded, “No need. You’re my date and I’m gonna take care of you.”

All possible answers wafted away from my brain as I blushed and went over to fill up my cup. And my nipples started to get hard, leaving me mortified that I didn’t have enough layers to hide all that.

Too many things happened all at once and I tried to tell myself that the hardening was because there was an air conditioner vent right in the middle of the room and it was doing a number on me. Fumbling with my top and my drink and all the other stuff I wanted to grab, like the little peppers and sauces, left me unsteady. I turned to walk to the table and the top of my drink popped off and splashed in front of me on the floor.

I just stood there and felt like everyone was staring at me over the big mess I made. I set my extra stuff back on the counter and tried to figure out what I could do.