Why run?
The key turned right.
As if a samurai had vertically swiped down her body in order to cut her in two, a deep line appeared from between her clavicles and unzipped downwards, below the cleavage-v on her button up pink pyjama top.
Then, with unrealistic speed, like a child's balloon when popped, deflated and flopped on the floor as if rubber, nylon or leather.
But it wasn't.
It was skin and cotton pyjamas. You place an hand on her cheek and push through, feeling no bone or muscle in the way. It was a weird kind of cold. Your hand went completely numb momentarily, until you withdrew your hand.
The cotton was completely unchanged and, eager to see the effects of your decision, unbuttoned the cotton to reveal that the wound stretched below the waist of her bottoms.
You pull down the bottoms, careful not to touch the suit, but feeling numb from proximity alone. Yes, the bottom of the line was obscured by pubic hair...
Oh well, you couldn't wear the suit anyway, going near it would make you so numb that you would be paralysed. You bend over the mess on the bed and reach for the key. The key. as soon as you pull it from Jenna's neck, the tingling sensations vanish.
After doing this, you realise what had happened. You strip completely naked, with a mild erection beginning to form. How annoying. Jenna didn't have to deal with anything like that. You stand up and hold the suit out in front of you, seeing uncovered nipples and pussy for the first time.
You begin by placing your legs into Jenna's hollowed out limbs... It is loose fitting and weightless, not in any way convincing, like baggy polyester trousers. Whatever, the experience was fascinating on its own anyway. You lead your arms through as if into a one-z and tug at the end. Your hands didn't even reach the end of her fore-arms - and your arms were longer than hers as a fact. Maybe without that fat she had from lunch everyday, she'd fit.
Sweating, you close the deal and pull the mask over your head. It rests there, like a hood, obscuring everything, even your vision.
You sit down on the bed, nearly tripping in the process, disappointed and feel a sharp prick on your butt. The key. Oh well. It was worth a shot.
Yanking the neck part of Jenna's mask far down over your head until it lined up with your own neck with your left hand, you stab the key in horizontally, in line with her old cut from the key, with your right.
Suddenly, the numbness intensifies, spreads to your head and almost makes you black out. You look down and see the fault in the suit mend itself, stitching itself together with infinite tiny teeth, as though the jaws of a terrible beast.
Slowly, the total body numbness and paralysis fades and sensations return.
Your mouth is forced shut by a powerful clamping force, a headgear attached to your jaw, yet exerted over small, flabby cheeks. You breathe sharply and swiftly through tightened, constricted nostrils. Your mouth aches and slowly, agonisingly, opens, your swollen tongue slipping out along with a stream of drool.
Your heart pounds in your chest. Your large, heavy chest. Large balloons had been inflated there, it seemed. You felt rough glandular tissue expanding to fill the vibrating cavity. Bouncy jiggly fat forms around it as you glance down in horror to rapidly puffing up boobs. Those small round, flaccid nipples that were on the original skin-suit erected and stood up like diamonds. The illusion was intensified by sight and feeling of shrinking shoulders and torso.
You wiggle your toes, then your small feet the ankles resting on the floor.
Your tiny hands clench into tiny fists as your mind struggles to adapt to new nerve endings.
Then a tiny shard of bone snaps into existence at your wrists and your arms twist violently at the shoulders in reply.
Your legs go into spasm, kicking and writhing against the freezing cold floor and you nearly faint.
Your eyes rapidly blink as they adjust to a sudden influx of blinding light.
Somehow, flopping in the manner of a fish, you roll over and feel the pleasure of freezing cold against where your genitals were before. Weirded out, you roll over onto your ass.
Your tongue slithers back into the mouth, your mouth closes around it, you shake your head and raise it up, your chin pointing down as you admire a new body. You place your hands onto your breasts and cup them, diamond-hard nipples poking into your softened palms. You try to sit up, but your body, dizzy, slams itself back forward into the cool floor. The coolness drifts up your bum crack, along with your awareness of its magnitude and pertness.
To reduce breeze between your legs, you close your thighs together, acutely aware of a missing element. At the same time, you swivel your calves and lower legs at the knee to either side of your upper legs, creating an 'm' shape.
You sit up and your hand dashes towards your new vagina.
"Hello!"
Instinctively, you try to answer, but cough stray strands of hair out of your mouth. Jenna's long blond hair. Jenna's credited characteristic. Oh how you marveled at the beauty of it, you wanted to stroke it...
but...
...
"Sorry for the wait. Jenna, are you there."
A girl's voice. From the phone on Jenna's bed.
"I needed the loo," this girl says.
You're on speaker.
Jenna wouldn't masturbate in these conditions, with one of her friends listening.
"Please say you're not upset. I didn't mean to make you angry. Your brother just creeps me out."
A tear falls from your eye.
"That's all."
Then another.
"Look, I'm gonna hang up now."
Then another tear.
"I'll see you tomorrow."
Listening to this girls voice made you cry.
You cried, then you sobbed, then you cried some more. Such grace in her voice. You appreciated it. You loved it.
You.
Felt.
Love.
You were human. Jenna. Human.
You killed Jenna.
Regret.
Guilt.
Recompense.
You loved Jenna.
Her body appealed to you.
You really did want to use it...
You let go of her. Killed off who she was. But not how she was.
You didn't wear Jenna, you were Jenna.
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