This choice: "I want to hang out with the Goths at my school. I'm gonna change my look." • Go Back...Chapter #5The Gothic Jenny by: Unknown “I wanna hang out with the Goths at my school,” says Jenny. “I’m gonna change my look.”
Before your eyes, her body alters its shape, her breasts and hips enlarging and her waist shrinking. Her workout wear ripples and reforms into a black corset top and a short black ruffled skirt, her athletic socks turning into black thigh-high fishnet stockings and her shoes becoming black leather ankle boots with high heels.
Her skin lightens to an almost alabaster hue, her hair darkening to become black, restyling itself into pigtails. Dark makeup fades into existence on her face, her lips plumping as they become a glossy maroon.
A black collar with silver studs appears around her neck as large silver hoops appear dangling from her earlobes. Several smaller earrings also appear in each ear, and a similar small ring pops into existence piercing her left nostril.
She looks down into the cleavage being pushed up by her corset, and then sees that her fingernails are long, manicured, and painted the same dark red color as her lips.
“This is awesome,” she says. “In the back of my mind, I kinda fantasized about looking and dressing like this. And I guess my sister and Cody will think this is how I normally am, right?”
“They should, unless you want them to see you as different,” you answer. “So I guess we can say that my formula was a success, obviously.”
You reach to pick up the jug of formula from the counter, but it disappears.
You turn back to the newly Gothic Jenny. “Sorry, but why would I want anyone else to have the same powers?” she asks rhetorically.
“Ha, I guess you’re right,” you say noncommittally, already thinking about just going back to the lab to mix up more of the formula.
“In fact --“ Jenny snaps her fingers -- “I’ve just made it so no more of that formula can possibly be made in this universe. And let me see what to do about you.”
You gulp.
“I know,” she says. She points to the refrigerator, and it changes from a white to a completely reflective finish, the various magnets and pieces of paper disappearing. You’re looking at the side, and it’s just like a full-length mirror.
You realize you can’t move just as you see, and feel, your skin crawling. Your body quickly reshapes itself into a near-duplicate of Jenny’s very feminine hourglass figure. Yours goes a bit further, though, as your breasts push outward until they’re nearly the size of volleyballs.
Your skin lightens as your clothes begin to shift, but you’re distracted by the feeling of your manhood receding into you. Your stomach churns a bit at the sensation of some of your internal structures altering. By the time you notice your new clothing, it consists of merely a black latex bikini top, a matching micro skirt, and thigh-high black latex boots with high platform heels. Now as nearly white as Jenny’s, your skin appears perfectly hairless, your veins visible as faint blue lines beneath.
You notice your facial features softening a bit, your cheekbones becoming more prominent, eyelashes lengthening, the color of your eyes changing to an icy blue. Your hair suddenly recedes into your skull, but new hair almost immediately pushes itself out in a strip down the middle of your skull, growing longer but stubbornly sticking straight up -- it’s an incredible black Mohawk with purple tips, about a foot high.
Dark makeup begins to appear on the face you see in the mirrored surface, but you also see colorful blobs growing on many places on your exposed skin, which quickly come into focus, resolving themselves into a variety of tattoos. Jewelry appears, your new piercings announcing themselves with a brief twinge; within seconds, you have multiple earrings encircling both ears, a barbell through the bridge of your nose, a tongue stud, two small loops through your lower lip, a charm dangling from your navel, plus you felt twinges in your nipples and several in newly sensitive spots between your legs.
The changes seem to have finished. You realize you can move now, but you’re still stunned by your transformation.
“Why did you do this to me?” you ask. “I don’t -- I don’t think anyone will take me seriously now.”
“Well, yeah, that’s kind of the point,” says Jenny. “You’re not the same person who made the God Formula. I don’t think they’d let you into the lab, maybe not even on campus -- of course, this version of you barely graduated high school. But there are plenty of people who take you seriously -- plenty of men and women with a Goth fetish who would be more than happy to pay for companionship from a specimen such as you.”
“You made me a whore?”
“I made you a high-priced specialty escort,” Jenny assures you. “And I’ve given you lots of extras. You’re completely bisexual, with an extra-high sex drive. You don’t have to worry about sunburns or suntans marring that beautiful skin. You don’t have to worry about STDs, or any diseases, for that matter. You don’t have to worry about body hair. You don’t have to worry about doing your makeup. Now, you can get pregnant, so I’ll make sure you have some birth control pills at your place -- they’ll do a good job of suppressing your period.”
“But I do have a life outside the lab,” you protest. “I mean, I even have a girlfriend --“
“You still do,” says Jenny. “Don’t worry, I’ll make her a lesbian who’s attracted to you in this form. Maybe make a few other changes to her, too.”
“But --“
“Enjoy your new life,” she orders.
Things go black for a brief instant, and you find yourself back in your small house, in the bedroom. The bed is in its usual place, but it’s now covered with red satin sheets. Instead of your sleek computer desk with the 3-monitor setup, there’s instead an old-fashioned roll-top desk with no computer in sight. Also missing are all the science books on your bookshelf -- in fact, it appears it’s nearly full of porn magazines and DVDs. There’s also a TV and DVD player on a cart next to it.
The dresser appears to be the same, but you open one drawer to find a large selection of bras instead of T-shirts. You check the label on the black lacy model on top, and see the number 36J.
You close the drawer, shaking your head, and go to the closet. You open the door to find nothing familiar, just a bunch of incredibly sexy Gothic outfits in leather, latex, and lace, with nothing but high-heeled shoes and boots on the floor.
A little shaken, you walk back over to the desk and plop down in the desk chair, your enlarged ass cushioning you. You reach into the pack of cigarettes on the desk, pull one out and put it in your mouth, then light it with the nearby silver lighter. You draw the smoke into your lungs, holding it for several seconds, and then exhale. You feel calmer already, despite a small part of you trying to tell you that you don’t smoke; you realize that since Jenny made you immune to disease, you don’t have to worry about most of the drawbacks of smoking.
You can see yourself, you realize, reflected in the TV. You look at the beautiful female face, heavily covered in magically-permanent makeup, that, as far as you know, is now yours forever.   indicates the next chapter needs to be written. |
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