A Brand New Goth Girl
[7]
And my path took me back upstairs. I ascended the steps gingerly so that the quakes and feelings which embarrassed me before were under control. The bra I wore was putting in work and what once felt weird was something I was slowly starting to adapt to.
The possibility that they might get bigger under the light of what my benefactor gifted me made me feel flush. It was interesting and crazy and alluring and totally impossible I would ever do that. But considering I could just immediately undo it, I was torn. Messing with Beatrice‘s body, even though it was also mine, felt like an affront. Plus, it wasn’t the worst thing to comfortably occupy a distant, vague awareness of breasts. If they were much more pronounced, would I ever be able to overlook them?
Beatrice‘s thing was being cutely gothic with a petite, slight presence. I had already been changed so much by slipping into her role. To change her from that essential form felt bizarre. But I told myself it was just messing around temporarily. Additionally, if I was going to transform other people in so many ways, especially very girly ones, then it was only right to test the extremes out on myself first.
By the time I made it back to the dorm room, I was resolute in what I was going to do with the flashlight. Norah and her boyfriend were still on the couch and Norah was braiding the mile of hair that flowed over her shoulders and to her butt. The poor former guy had a defeated expression. I waved to them and asked what was up.
Norah totally lamented that I had stepped out because they just watched the coolest videos, and they gave her lots of ideas for Luke. I couldn’t remember if I got his name before, but I didn’t worry about it. I found a spot next to the shimmering twinkles of lights strewn across the walls and diffused by drapes between them. It was like dousing me in stray rainbows.
Luke flicked some of her hair back and pointed out, “I wish you were as interested in finding a way to turn me back as doing all this stuff to my hair.”
I sat up and relayed the information, “There’s actually no way to turn back. It’s permanent. I ran into the entity or whatever that caused all this to happen. They left a note downstairs…uh..that vanished. Every student is a girl.”
Luke shifted and took a big swallow as she glanced down at herself and over at me. She huddled close to some ember of hope. Was I absolutely sure? Was it just a claim? What kind of entity?
Of course, I couldn’t be absolutely certain and I didn’t know much about my benefactor other than they could write letters. Luke looked a little woozy but steadied herself. Norah had a bit to say about transforming the entire campus. “Seems rather overzealous. There’s less than half boys anyway.”
Despite skirting and I’m securing some information, I truly wanted to segue into sharing what I was given. But not yet. Rather, I referenced the original proposal. What if you could change anything about your appearance which didn’t change your sex?
Luke lamented that she couldn’t just switch her sex. Norah alluded to all the fun the new girl could have with her sex. Luke dipped her head and kept quiet. Norah counted off plenty of things she would change, even though I considered her practically perfect as she was.
She thought her face looked bitchy and vaguely androgynous in a tomboy librarian way. She also wanted a much leaner belly, sexy thighs, and a more versatile voice. Perfect eyesight was a given, and she wasn’t certain about her boob size, but she definitely wanted to be bigger than Luke, because she found that annoying. Luke emphasized that he would gladly trade with her.
Working around the concepts, I slipped in a trial balloon of musing whether this mysterious entity made changes without anyone remembering, like Norah randomly speculated about if she had been changed before, I put forth the idea of if you could have changes without remembering them or if Luke was just made into a total girl, what would they think of that? All that was a very circuitous way of hinting.
Norah’s swift reaction was that that would be so boring because making Luke squirm and blush about all this gave her life. It seemed like I would be making prolific use of the AA option.
I joined in for some of the video-watching as Kasey came over to air-pop some popcorn for us. Rhea also lingered and took an affectionate shine to the new girl by adding several more little braids.
Eventually, I snuck out and went over to the sinks next to the shower for some privacy. Setting the option on the flashlight was the most challenging prospect because it felt embarrassing to just say boobs or bust or beauty. Femininity in particular seemed too vague. I wanted to do it right. As a faint joke, I offered up “peak Beatrice actualization”. It waited a moment but actually accepted it.
When I thought of that prospect, I imagined Beatrice with as much beauty realized as possible. As many innate Beatrice qualities exemplified and distilled. I set it specifically to “more” with as much light covering my entire… my… entire body as possible. I waited with my eyes squinted shut as weight, softening, and stretches flexed their way all over, as though providing a massage that burrowed deep inside, beyond merely my muscles.
This continued for quite some time until the vibration and feelings plateaued. I waited several seconds longer and then finally clicked off the flashlight. That done, all I needed to do was open my eyes and see the results. It took time to build up my resolve but, eventually, I did it and gazed at the reflection that greeted me.
My God… The woman before me, my reflection, had hair much like Beatrice but it dipped past her shoulders with a delicate shine. The same clothes I put on were still worn by her. In some places, it looked like they had modified to adjust to the new curves. In others, it looked like the clothing just endured. Beatrice’s narrow, dainty shoulders had a sculpted meat to them which emphasized their softness with a plush refinement. Her nails weren’t quite claws but had a solid and shiny extension with a delicate touch of acrylic.
Stolen novel; please report.
Her subtle shape, with a faint dip around her waist before the rise of her hips, was stretched, seemingly, to the limit. Her tiny waistline dipped in and then shot out with voluptuous hips emphasized by a truly pendulous behind that fluttered up and hinted through the skirt. Beatrice‘s legs didn’t feel or look fat but rather enthusiastically feminine, for lack of any other words I could think of.
Of course, I would be remiss to overlook the most blatant feature added. Beatrice now had breasts with a mile of cleavage expressed through the top and traced by the fabric. Beatrice could even make Brian jealous now, assuming that new girl wanted what she received from my benefactor. And her face. It had a sculpted precision and slope less roundedly cute and more strikingly flowing.
It was intense all around. Setting my legs together with the new shape wrapped my flesh around and against sensitive places and managed to play them like an extra pair of limbs. Just shifting in place, I felt like I could achieve the most intense results. It was all so perfect and breathtaking but… it was not Beatrice.
Far be it from me to judge the girl within me or the girl I could become on surface qualities, but Beatrice didn’t feel innately like a voluptuous, curvy busty Goth chick who needed custom bras. Not that I was complaining about the soft jiggly contours I could carefully manipulate on my chest. Perhaps that would change given several hours of sustained gravity or trying to sleep comfortably. But I liked everything I’d been originally given. The idea of ownership of the most basic qualities of Beatrice and her cuteness felt headier and more uncertain than all the crazy additions. These massive boobs were easier to swallow as something separate from my blended self-identity.
Yet, I set the light to magnify the inherent Beatrice qualities. This had to absolutely be Beatrice but through the filter of some funhouse mirror of extreme exaggeration. How could I even return to normal Beatrice shape? Did I really want to? This was peak Beatrice. Nervous tears streaked my face as I took a breath and struggled to work out how to undo this.
With frail hope and uncertainty, my brain told me it was obvious. If the flashlight recognized magnifying Beatrice qualities then it would understand what I meant when I asked it for the original Beatrice, the one only touched by my benefactor. Bracing myself, I put forth that thought and felt a rush of relief when it accepted it.
Moderating the output of pink illumination, I stretched this chaotic reflection back into order. The leggy curves fell away for something still scintillating but cute. I preserved a slight stretch of the hips to best emphasize the qualities of the skirt. A slightly thinner waist was little more than vanity. But I brought back Beatrice’s original face. Not because I feared that everyone would notice a difference but instead because it felt more like my face, and I desperately didn’t want to lose it. Beatrice‘s dainty arms returned but with a faint, added luster of the other girl’s skin. And call me what you like, but I saved an ever so slight addition to Beatrice’s bust.
The heightened curve, especially in this top, seemed almost imperceptible but I noticed the altered heft and shift with my footfalls. A slightly scarier jiggle for Beatrice’s bra to contain. But gradual enough that I suspected and hoped that no one would see anything more than a different bra put on to maximize what I had. It was a relief but also exhausting.
I had no idea that shining a light on Beatrice‘s body could sap so much energy. When I got blasted by my benefactor the first time, I felt energized, even though a shower helped. Perhaps this variety of alteration was different? Did it wear out my spirit and brain? Or was it just stress and drain of my own doing? That last possibility seemed like the safest bet.
I am Beatrice. Permanently. I am this goth girl from now on. This was home. I conducted some crazy, do-it/yourself remodeling which I then reversed for some minor tweaks. My essence freaked out for just an instant at such uncouth and forward claims of ownership. I was a boy, just a common boy. How dare I presume to have anything to do with Lady Beatrice! But that reaction seemed silly. Quite a shift.
The terror and uncertainty weren’t gone. I just fortified myself against its worst symptoms. Oh, you think you’re stuck with the guest appearance of a pretty girl? You are the girl. Remember how the girls you liked felt too close and yet too far away with mystery curves, alluring fragrances, and a presence that excited all the hormones within like water in a microwave? You are now everything mysterious and exciting from back then. Boys will sneak a peek at you, and you will get to reveal all those mysteries with just a little shine from a light.
It came and went in waves. The realization and prospects of being Beatrice overwhelmed, swamped, and tugged at every emotion I could feel. But leaving the mirror and returning to the dorm quieted the anxiety and left curiosity about how to tint it. Seeing the exaggeration brought the truth into focus. I wasn’t a big titty curvy goth, I was subtle but beautiful Beatrice. And every word that complemented her had to also apply to me, despite the wriggling uncertainty and doubt of accepting such playfully flowery sentiments as reality.
I still had a lot of work to do, but it was wonderful to recontextualize what it meant to be Beatrice. I was still freaking tired though.
Leaving the sink mirrors behind, I did a little quiet stretching and flexing in the hopes that all the movement might shake loose my lethargy. It didn’t. Well, instead of trying to fight it off, I resolved to just embrace being a sleepy slug. Popping over to the bedroom, I found a nice set of pajamas with black cats and silvery moons set against a deep purple landscape. The top made it faintly obvious that I’d given myself a little more to show, but I reassured myself it was still a subtle alteration.
Returning to the living room, all my roommates were present and accounted for in front of the screen enjoying silly videos. They had Luke boxed in and it appeared Norah was especially amused by that. I cuddled up in a blanket off to the side and giggled with them.