Shifting the Sci-Fi Guy

[8]

A message for us? Was that why Connor scrutinized the document so much? What did it say?

She again checked everywhere around the room and then peeked out the front door to make sure that we had privacy. Plenty of people were strolling, sulking, dragging their feet, and sprinting down the hall. But Simon and Kuni were still away somewhere. This wasn’t enough for Connor, who led me over to the bathroom and locked the door.

Once we were inside, she waved her arms around in all directions, from the floor to the ceiling, and then carefully wielded the broom out of the closet to double-check. I understood caution, but I was a bit puzzled by what she was up to.

“I was thinking back to earlier and then just now when that scroll dropped. I got this weird sense during our game that someone was standing nearby who wasn’t the four of us. Originally, I didn’t think much of it. But when that thing appeared, I got the exact same feeling, like a nervous tickle on the back of my neck. Didn’t seem like a coincidence. I’m thinking whoever wrote that note and changed up the school might have some sort of Predator ability to cloak themselves. This space is small enough that I don’t think they can fit in here without being completely intangible or making themselves tiny. But I don’t feel like we’re being watched right this moment.”

I mentioned to Connor that my sense of it was more like a twinkle of light, both when I changed and when the parchment appeared. Hi… her sense of it was closer to an unseen presence than illumination. She noted that as though taking down analysis in an invisible journal.

That was enough preamble, though as she took a breath, splashed her face, and relayed the message she saw. It was situated off to the side, but in an obvious spot to be noticed.

She reported to me that the text precisely read, “This is for you and the one who you love. I have been watching, but not from above. I find you both sweet. And am offering a rare treat. Would you like a choice? Express with your pen or your voice.” Connor noted that she appreciated the intentional but awkward rhyming scheme because it assisted her recall.

I ran through the words a few times. Not watching from above. Found us sweet. It unsettled me that the same entity who wrote that ominous note for the entire dorm was specifically aware of the two of us. How closely might he or she be watching us? Had they seen us in bed earlier? Now I wanted to swing the broom in all directions myself to clear away some overwhelming, imaginary spider from another realm lurking with a thousand eyes just over my shoulder. I shook the feeling off as best I could with a jiggling shudder.

I wondered to Connor if the message might be seen by others who read the document. She had to shrug but suspected that they might come to the same conclusions she did. Perhaps a large portion of the dorm would be writing or speaking to this mysterious figure. That could even be their intent. Although, I couldn’t imagine for what purpose. If they truly wanted to communicate, there had to be better ways.

So, they were offering us a choice? What kind of choice? Was it a binary choice? Do we say yes or no or relay the specifics? The clear ambiguity felt frustrating. If we demanded something in particular, could that represent a mark against us in the ephemeral log this being maintained? Or were being forthright and ambitious admirable qualities? Connor squinted and easily recognized that I was already sinking into my usual, thought-saturated quagmire.

She asked me simply, “Yes or no?” But we didn’t know for certain if that was the criteria we had to follow! She pressed her question again. God, I loved and lamented this lady. She couldn’t comprehend the pace and the caution that I operated on with my thought processes. It wasn’t a deal-breaker though and it was barely worth complaining about anymore because we each had our ways of assessing the world. I needed her to push me forward, but she also needed to try the brakes occasionally. I conveyed this with a serious look, and she took a breath and sat on a clear portion of the counter.

And we talked. Familiar stuff but also the outlines of uncertainty to be expressed, highlighted, and colored in with matching tones. Talking to one another is the single most powerful thing in any relationship. I knew to never be afraid to talk, even though I had so much trouble remembering to assert it. I just didn’t want to bring up anything that felt like nitpicking or getting caught up on the little things. But it was important enough for me to think about it and my thoughts were valid. I fumbled my way through this process of awkward communication. Talking about fun stuff was better, but this work also needed to be done.

I shakily expressed my uncertainty about whether they wanted us to say yes or no or something else. Connor attentively listened to my reasoning and appreciated my thoughtfulness. She further acknowledged that this being or person expressed a significant amount in their communication and might find value in a detailed answer. Unfortunately, then fell to me to come up with this elaboration of what we wanted to answer.

I turned over the initial rhyme with more scrutiny than a final paper rubric or precisely worded exam prompt. It slowly dawned on me that the most appropriate answer to the way it was phrased was indeed a simple yes or no. I was painfully overthinking this. Connor pull me close in a comfortable hug from behind and told me that she appreciated that I made us both think it through even though we eventually arrived at her original answer. It was hard not to feel useless despite contributing to the process.

Connor had me watch the door with the broom, which would’ve looked ridiculous on any other day, as she retrieved blank printer paper and used her heaviest pen to clearly write out the word YES as large as possible. After that, we glanced around and affixed this note to the bathroom door with a loop of scotch tape before slipping inside again.

We couldn’t camp out in the bathroom forever, and it wasn’t fair to our roommates to monopolize the space, but I appreciated the temporary privacy. Waiting several minutes made me intimately aware of all the ominous rumbles that filtered through the thin walls from machinery, pipes, and the central air. I did my best to blot them out with Connor snuggles and careful kisses. Sitting on the counter was practically a scream-inducing blast of frigid numbing in a skirt that left so much bare thigh. It was absolutely ridiculous, but Connor still managed to make me feel good.

At some point, we heard an indistinct noise settle against the door. It was almost lost in all the other things we were doing, but I recognized it several moments later as Connor began gently but persistently pressing my body. We unfurled from one another and crept towards the door. Carefully opening it, we both looked down to see the most mundane but unusual thing resting on the carpet in front of the door: a simple, white light switch with the switch in the center position. What…?

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

None of the regular switches on the wall were missing. This appeared casually similar to them, although several inches smaller. Furthermore, our regular light switches settled awkwardly or not at all into a specific middle position. This showed no signs of popping to the top or dipping to the bottom. Turning to look at our note on the door, some unknown pen and penmanship had written just below the YES, “Enjoy.” No elaboration.

Of course, Connor was the first to pick up the detached switch and inspect it. The backside was a single piece of plastic without any seams or openings. Literally, the whole thing was just a small rectangular off-white box with a simple switch poking out the top. We each knew the only thing there was to do.

Connor did the honors and flicked it to the top orientation, away from him. Instantly, a flicker passed through her body, as though a complicated film projection splice occurred right in front of me in the real world. Instead of Riona standing there with her cape of blonde hair, curvy shape, and playful eyes, actual Connor returned. Male Connor. The dude I had known all my life. And he was still wearing the clothes that Riona had on. Quite uncomfortably.

Holy shit. We had to get out of the hallway. I ushered Connor over into our bedroom and closed the door behind us. He still had the switch in his hands. The room was unchanged, despite boy Connor standing in it. None of his regular, male clothes had been restored to existence either. My body immediately latched onto the same sharp feeling and desire from before Connor was first transformed. I desperately wanted to pick up where we left off.

Before I could get further than a few frantic touches, he flipped the switch back to the center position. Just as swiftly as Connor appeared, he was once again replaced with Riona, retaining the same clothes, although slightly stretched and askew. She gave me a mischievous look as she set the switch down on her desk and used a single finger to push it in the direction that hadn’t been explored yet.

I probably should’ve expected what was coming, but it made my stomach lurch in all directions as everything around and on me flickered like a strobe light before settling into the shape and form I had known all my life. I was Zach again, back again. And Trisha’s clothes were excruciating to wear, the bra especially. The sweater and everything around it was more like a compression garment with random, distended areas drooping and swelling. That bra had the same problems but at least the skirt manage to make me look vaguely like my Scottish ancestors, though still inescapably ridiculous with the fit. The less said about what was going on around my crotch with my panties, the better. It felt like all the blood was being tourniqueted into a patch right above my descended nuts.

I just really hoped that Riona wasn’t about to start flicking the switch up and down to see what happened then. I could only imagine the worst for my stomach, balance, and sense of self. Mercifully, she left the switch alone and approached me. Seeing her like this was somehow reassuring and yet a uniquely intimidating experience. Here I was, the awkward geek boy, with a gorgeous blonde who had seductive eyes for me. And yet this was Connor. This slice of the experience passed me by. A reeling sense that your silly old promise to jump the bones of your best friend, if he randomly happened to turn into a girl, didn’t seem quite so far-fetched anymore.

We smooched hard, and I had to resist losing hold of everything thrown back to me as a man. Nothing down below was hiding the fact that I was achingly turned on. And Riona knew it. She had easy access through the open skirt to the whole of me as a guy. I anticipated that the switch would next reveal to be on a timer, and we only had a handful of minutes before it reset us back to women. It didn’t happen yet as Riona‘s adept hands freed me from my desperately tight underwear. And it continued to not happen as she licked her lips and gave me the most intimate kiss imaginable. She certainly wasn’t stopping there though.

I felt bad even while I felt amazing. Zach didn’t keep things groomed at all like Trisha did. It also felt smaller than she really deserved. Not that any of my regular hesitancy and fear mattered to her relentless efforts. We pressed into the bed, which still needed some cleanup, as I could barely form a rational thought amidst the blood flow rocketing down to get in on the action. This felt like a true threshold even though we had already each brought the other to climax. I wanted to hold back, feeling as though it was too much to release an absolute age of restrained sensations on Riona‘s body. The boy side fulfilling quaint and cozy little fantasies. She wanted this though and I wasn’t going to stop her.

To compare one way or the other was impossible. Each had its flavors, drawbacks, and virtues. This was intimately familiar though, while our time earlier was something brand new. She wrapped around me and enveloped the whole of my being. It wasn’t the fulfillment that left the most lingering impression, it was being with someone who desperately wanted this for me in the most enjoyable way. As such, it felt like an extension of everything we had done earlier. We had done it together.

Even though I felt depleted, I was still eager to see what else Riona wanted to share with me. And I wanted to share and complete everything with Connor. Would I be as practiced and as loving on my knees in her place? I had to know, and I had to show how far I could go.

She lingered with exuberant, teasing energy even as she grabbed some water for her mouth. Part of me desperately wanted to taste her lips. We might know each other in all ways and the prospect felt electrically exciting. Beneath the ringing pleasure though was the pressing realization of what this represented. The entity responsible for all of this had simply created, with just a word from us, a device to allow us to return to our previous forms. Didn’t others around us also deserve this? Was the implication that she would make this for whoever wanted it or just for her special pets who she found cute? I should’ve simply been grateful that I had a means of unhitching myself from the weight and constancy of H-cup breasts. However, there appeared to be no option to switch both of us off. Three options, three settings but still a certain, limited choice to it.

As I settled both my heart and my pounding arousal, I enjoyed the view of Riona from behind as she washed up in the sink. Many playful options bubbled up from my brain and hovered in the air. I rested my eyes on the switch, setting a plan in place to hop up and flick it back to center if I as much as heard the faintest hint of the front door opening with our returning roommates. Turning back to look at the woman I loved, I thought I caught a faint shimmer of tangled light in the air, that Predator presence that Connor alluded to. Instead of one ugly motherfucker with a cruel laugh though, I caught a shy face with a pair of glasses perched upon a nose.

That was all I could pick out before I blinked and all incongruent traces, illusion or not, were gone.