Closer Than You Know, Love Each Other So Androgynous
“Perhaps we could say then, that justice is monstrous, that it is a shape-shifting, a haunting, that not only disturbs humanist logic, but also simultaneously, and necessarily, generates an opening onto alterity, to différance, to a future, or futures, yet to come.”
Sullivan, Nikki. (2006). “Transmogrification: (Un)Becoming Other(s).” The Transgender Studies Reader. Ed. Susan Stryker and Stephen Whittle. Routledge.
It wasn't fair, thought Jacob as his fist tightly clenched the verdigris-tainted ring of magical metal. Life should be more fair. Life should be happier. He should be the one with Emily. He deserved her. He deserved to be happy, confident, attractive. She deserved to be the one with him. They deserved each other – not what they'd gotten thus far in life. Why couldn't she see this wasn't right? Why was Jacob the only one inflicted with an unquenching sense of malaise and existential angst over the cards fate at dealt this neighborhood?
And then it happened … everything Jacob did not want nor had he wished for … all of it came true with a demonic sense of wish perversion.
Faster than Jacob could keep track of, a wave of physical transformation swept across both he and Emily simultaneously.
From Jacob's perspective, he could see Emily sprout up at least a full head in height. Her crop top became suddenly stretched thin, to the point of seams bursting as Emily's formerly slim arms and lithe shoulders bunched up in a mass of broad, masculine muscle. Her skirt began to resemble more a loincloth as her legs lengthened and broadened out as well. A shadow of facial hair crept across her rough, rugged jaw, and a conspicuous Adam's apple suddenly bulged out from the center of her throat.
She looked like herself, Emily Johnson, had she been a big, muscular, athletic, male version of her adolescent self. Although still dressed like a girl, Emily now had the appearance of a star, high school athlete.
At the same time, an equal-but-opposite reaction was transforming Jacob with a thaumaturgical perversion of Newton's third law.
Jacob didn't become taller, or stronger, or thinner … he became shorter.
It wasn't a lot, but it proved enough to be noticeable to Jacob – at least two or three inches had dissipated from his body. And, unlikely though it seemed, his already chubby body was becoming fatter. In particular, he felt his chest, his hips, and his ass swell outward, far in excess of the proportions of the rest of his body.
He was becoming female!
Not just female, but a short, fat girl.
Just as Emily had become a big, strong, male version of her successful teenage self, so too was Jacob becoming a short, fat, nerd girl version of his loser self.
“Jay, what's happening to us?” Emily asked in a rich baritone.
The sound of her manly voice made Jacob blush and feel all squishy inside. He fluttered his eyelashes involuntarily and stared at his shoes, now at least two sizes too big for his girlish feet.
“I dunno,” he shyly mumbled in a barely audible whisper.
“We look like freaks!” Emily declared. “Whatever's happened, I'm sure that stupid copper doughnut of Kaitlyn is responsible. But we've got to go and change clothes, ASAP. We both look positively ridiculous.”
Jacob nodded in quiet agreement, his chubby double-chins jiggling with accord.
“Let's sneak inside your house,” Emily commanded, grabbing the magic, metal ring from Jacob. “I can probably wear some of your old clothes, and maybe you can squeeze into something of your mom's. I know she's not a big woman, but at least she's an adult. Maybe she has something baggy that can fit you. Sheesh, Jay – your clothes look way too tight on you right now. That can't be comfortable?”
Always a bit shy, Jacob now found his social anxiety positively crippling and could do nothing to verbalize his thoughts in the presence of this magnificent Adonis he'd so long harbored a secret crush on. It was a good idea, he had to admit to himself though. His shirt was bunched about around his massive, bulbous breasts and now exposed a thick roll of pasty, white feminine belly fat. And his pants were simultaneously too long (cuffs dragging about his heels) and too tight (waistband cutting painfully into his hips).
“Into the house, quick!” ordered Emily.
No one seemed to be home at the moment, so the two teens easily navigated their way to the bedrooms without incident. Jacob gestured to his own bedroom. Emily swiftly stomped inside and slammed the door. Jacob then timidly crept to his parent's bedroom and set about stripping off his clothes.
It felt good to be naked and free … but it felt wrong to be standing about in the nude in his parent's room. And worse yet, it felt intensely embarrassing to see himself in the mirror now: a greasy-haired, morbidly obese, adolescent girl. His face was “cute,” but his breasts were almost comically large. His belly was enormous, his ass and thighs were massive, and in all he presented the image of a shy, socially awkward girl with a serious weight problem.
In all, he presented the image of himself as a female.
That crazy toroid of Kaitlyn's nightmares hadn't really changed anything for him. He'd just switched polarities in terms of gender, and then remained the same pathetic loser he'd always been. He was worse off now than before.
“You ready yet?” came Emily's strong, bass voice. She banged twice on the bedroom door.
Jacob giggled and blushed against his better judgment.
“Not yet,” he said meekly.
“Hurry up!” said Emily. “Your family probably won't recognize us when they come back. We need to get dressed, get back outside, and then maybe we'll have breathing room to figure out what the hell happened and what we need to do.”
Good old Emily, thought Jacob. She's so strong and confident. She always knows just what to do.
Springing into action as fast as his flabby, out-of-shape body could muster, Jacob rummaged through his mom's dresser and closet and finally found clothes. He had to settle for some of her old maternity clothes, buried deep and forgotten. But when he was done, Jacob was wearing his mom's old cotton, flower-print patterned, high-waisted maternity panties (with matching bra); a sleeveless, sky blue sundress that hung in a shapelessly unflattering manner on Jacob's squat, rotund form; and a pair of wedge-heeled sandals that, truth be told, made him feel pretty.
He winced in surprise as the thought crossed his mind that he hoped Emily would notice his cute shoes and maybe pay him a compliment.
Of course she paid him no praise, instead grabbing him roughly by his chubby pink hand and dragging him quickly from the house.
Outside in the safety of an anonymous part of neighborhood boulevard, the two paused for breath. Jacob noted Emily had chosen to wear his favorite “Battlestar Galactica” t-shirt. Did that mean she really liked him? And it made him feel all mushy inside thinking she was almost certainly wearing his underwear right now. It made him feel yummy to think of the two of them, so practically almost intimate.
Crap! He knew deep down he was becoming hopelessly immersed in a sea of effusive, mawkish schoolgirl emotions. Was this part of the magic, metal ring's power? Or was this really the sort of sappy, maudlin, sentimental idiot he'd have been all along as a girl?
Try as he could, Jacob couldn't stop blushing, giggling, and staring at his feet whenever his eyes happened to meet with those dreamy, sweet windows of the soul on his beloved Emily's face. He just knew they were destined to be soulmates, just like in romance novels. And … and … and then what? Would Jacob be some fat, blushing bride walking down the aisle someday, eager to become Mrs. Emily Johnson?
He had to snap out of this and take control of himself.
“It's okay, Jay. I'm in control,” said Emily.
Jacob nodded in happy agreement.
“I've got Kaitlyn's stupid dingus here,” grumbled Emily, holding up the tarnished, bronze doughnut. “We just have to figure out how it works and then … um … make it work.”
“Anything you say, Emily,” whispered Jacob breathlessly, batting his eyes and trying hard to look thin.