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Rated: 18+ · Interactive · Erotica · #2163863

A family suffers car trouble and has to spend the night in a mysterious, abandoned house.

This choice: They become punk, juvenile delinquent, teenagers from a nearby town.  •  Go Back...
Chapter #5

Rebels With a Supernatural Cause

    by: Morphology Author IconMail Icon
(Originally added by Hilter Skilter)

With an accompanying chime sound, the surrounding mansion glowed a warm white and gave way to a downtown, suburban street. The transition was brief, startling. In place of the grand piano and dusty couches appeared a pancake house and railroad tracks, cutting through the empty plaza in which the family lay sprawled and wasted.

Steve was the first to break through the drug-induced haze, the sudden calm and inner peace. He rose to a sitting position and looked over his thin, fragile frame. The spirit had made him a punk rocker of a girl. Her hair was pink, blonde, black, and purple, the equivalent of a broom head in how it poofed downward into a collection of bristle-like spikes, near her neck. She wore a black "RAMONES" shirt beneath a denim jacket and a red-and-white plaid skirt (with matching stockings); combat boots and a choker. There were ear piercings, two bolts beneath her lips, a stud on her tongue, and Steve didn't want to think about the steely iciness brushing against his chest and crotch. The joint in her hand, halfway depleted, pressured Steve to fall into euphoria, but he fought back with sheer terror.

Megan was next. She had smoked the least of the group, or perhaps she now possessed the highest tolerance. She was a massive, broad-shouldered biker dude straight from the Hell's Angels. Her cruiser jacket was zipped halfway open to reveal a chest crawling with hair, tattoos and scars. Her jeans were ripped, restitched, and reripped all over. The bushy, brown beard, melon-sized muscles, and booming voice (when Megan eventually spoke) gave the impression she was now over thirty, even though the body was just creeping on eighteen. The supine forms of her family lay below her, as she sat higher on the sidewalk, leaning against a "STOP" sign.

Alan's new form had passed out before he slipped in, and a minute later he woke up. He stretched out, noticed his torso felt lighter and more open to the wind, as did his legs. Why was he paler? Why did his chest feel heavier and his crotch empty? And what was this black, unkempt hair falling over his face, he had always kept his hair close to a buzz cut! With further examination Alan discovered he had become the goth girl to his father's punk, stripped down to her Hot Topic-bought lingerie (all black, of course). An enormous angel wing tattoo spread out across his back, reaching along his arms and stomach to give an impression of being wrapped in feathers. A healthy layer of cosmetics made Alan's face feel smothered and sticky, and like Steve, he sensed his fair share of uncomfortably placed piercings. He tried getting up, only to fall back down again, the girl's ruffled, black hair falling across his face.

Janet came to her senses in a firmly-built, Asian body, dressed in a white wife beater and dragon-belted jeans. The wind blew across her bald head and she nearly yelped. In one hand, lying diagonal to her head on the pavement, she held an inhalant of sort. The other loosely gripped a crudely-made shank. Both arms bore lavish tattoos, green, blue, and black, their designs unclear but intimidating, nonetheless. The shock of youth, baldness, manhood, and fitness all crashed into Janet at once, and it took her a moment to put the pieces of her transformation together: intimidating tattoos, wife beater, and a shank? Janet had become a teenage thug!

What next?

You have the following choices:

*Pen*
1. The police show up

2. Return to the mansion, where the delinquents are now the family

*Pen*
3. Something else.

*Pen* indicates the next chapter needs to be written.
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