Whomever invented coffee was a far greater scientist than he was, James had decided after placing the empty cup down and returned to the screen for the last inputs. Since time should be malleable within The Chamber and had no physical needs within, he set the transformation to take a full seven days so he could experience it in full. Then, he stepped inside and let the lock close behind him.
James didn’t feel time stop outside, although he also wasn’t sure what exactly it should feel like, but he had placed a Newton’s Cradle in view of The Chamber door’s window. One of the iron balls at the ends was in mid-descent. After counting a several dozen seconds, it remained there, confirming that time had indeed ceased to exist for this single week-long moment. With another confirmed success of The Chamber’s operation, James took the seat at the lone chair in the middle of the empty and clinical white room.
The absolute dullness of it offended his sense of aesthetic.
James caught the thought as something new and intrusive. Yet even as he tried to repeat his original reasons for the design didn’t find them particularly convincing. Not anymore. He clapped his hands together, nearly laughing and let his mind spin with ideas of how to redecorate before the resort opened. With no sense of tiredness, rather, the scientist felt a steady and continuous buzz of caffeine, or any other change in his physical needs keeping track of the seconds, minutes, and hours that seemed to blur together with nothing to punctuate them was becoming impossible.
Around the time he started to feel uncomfortable in his clothes, both for the reasons that he disliked the interior decorations and something much more personal, James guessed around a day had passed. Jacquelyn was settling in, every moment, her identity pressed harder on James’ mind and as much as he tried to accept it and hurry the transformation along, she couldn’t. A wave of disgust, that either lasted somewhere between a few minutes to an hour washed over her as she inspected her sex and body.
Her throbbing manhood felt rough and hard as she began stroking it with the same caution someone might handle a foreign and potentially dangerous object. While feeling the arousal building despite her sense of wrongness about having it attached to her, Jackie tried her best to remain dispassionate as she inspected it with her fingers, eyes, and other senses. She was, or would become, an hermaphrodite, but this cock still felt like it didn’t belong to her. Like it was someone else's. It was James’, a man. And Jackie was no longer one.
The observation eased her discomfort and as she felt it change underneath her fingers, becoming slender and possessing a graceful and fluid curve and with a dainty and adorably pink glans that peeked out of her silken, lustrous, and smooth foreskin. Her cute hermaphrodite cock was attached to her hairless crotch. Although hairless implied it ever had or could have hair there instead of always being a bare and velvety expanse. Exploring further, she ran her fingers over the slight bump of her tesitcles that lay between her cock and pussy. Jackie didn’t pause and immediately pushed a finger inside. Each curling motion of her fingertip seemed to open up more of the wet interior and allow her to probe more deeply until she hit the wall of her womb.
Jackie hardly noticed how the interior of The Chamber had changed. White still dominated the walls, the floors were a warm wood. The wall opposite of the door was now taken up by a digital screen that displayed a serene and natural environment with such high definition it felt like you were looking into another world. A table, with smoking incense and statuettes of exotic feminine and what felt like vaguely spiritually forms, sat on one side. Their scent mixed with that of the plants carefully dotted around the room into a calming aroma. And the chair was replaced with a meditation mat. This was partially because she was focused on her pleasure, without being able to cum, an unintended feature she hadn’t known about when stepping into The Chamber, but also because she remembered it always being the way it was now. Or at least since the construction workers had finished.
As Lyn’s and James’ memories co-mingled, the former were taking an increasing prominence inside of her mind. At times, she had to forcefully and consciously remind herself of the alternate and dream-like life of being a brilliant physicist. It’d always be there, she had made sure of it before stepping into The Chamber, but that life no longer belonged to Lyn. On the first of December decades earlier, when James had asked out his first love on a date, Lyn had spent that day pining after another girl entirely and watching when she went out with her boyfriend. Only it had been a single decade ago, not three and a few years.
She was a GenZ girl, with the world-wide-web easily available at her fingertips. Her parents were the GenXers. Lyn had spent her life growing up there as much as she spent the time with her friends in the real world. Migrating social media sites and phenomena with a preternatural alacrity until she was an influencer with millions listening to her advice about fashion and makeup, or simply to hear stories about her life like a trip to the beach with friends. At times, heavier subjects. Lyn the socialite had spun that popularity into a steady revenue stream by the age of fourteen. It had been fun, if somewhat stressful, few years of her life.
Yet in The Meditation Chamber, there was no stress. A much better name for her purposes, Lyn decided instead of just The Chamber. Only calm and peaceful thoughts as Jacquelyn let herself fall deeper into the trance, not focusing on the memories but letting them flow and fill things in as the program wished.
Her body had changed further during the time she had spent inside. Her bronzed and evenly tanned skin shone with an inner golden light and reflected her perfect health. She was unmarred by any deleterious sign of age or wear, as if time hadn’t touched her besides making her athletic body voluptuous with an hourglass figure matched with a heart-shaped ass and long supple legs that millions dreamed to either have or to hold close to them. Even the scars underneath her artificially firm globes were almost invisible and becoming fainter by the day. Jacquelyn loved how they added an element of nearly scandalous tightness to whatever dress outfit she wore. As did her feminine cock. While the injections in her luscious nude and full lips looked like they belonged to her sculpted and soft face far more than her thin lips she had been born with. And her large, intensely blue eyes were framed by spun locks of vibrant and metallic golds and platinum with every single strand seemingly falling into place no matter the circumstances.
Jacquelyn’s detractors called her a bimbo, sneering at the tramp stamp and other tattoos decorating her skin or the studded piercings in her lips, nose, eyebrows, tongue, bellybutton. Even those in her clit and breasts, which they insisted had absolutely never had looked at. And saying her permissive and sexually liberated personality and example were corrupting everyone who listened to her.
In their way, they weren’t wrong. Oh, the bimbo stuff was absolutely slanderous and false. She was an icon of femininity, a certain kind of it at least. And whatever her original goal of experimenting and fine tuning The (Meditation) Chamber, Lyn was now instead seeking to influence and spread her idea of beauty. Still, she was intending to have fun and enjoy herself, with her resort as her playground.
She heard the door, a tasteful mahogany instead of an industrial metal, click open as the program ended. It hardly felt like a week had passed.
With a practiced and radiant smile, Jacquelyn found the smartphone in her discarded clothes, clutching it with her long and manicured nails, and then carefully covered up her stiff nipples with her arm before taking a selfie. No reason to give the prudes an opportunity to complain more than they already did. ‘First session in The Meditation Chamber. Feeling refreshed and like a new woman. See you guys at the Spa Resort soon! Unleash your inner beauty!’ She added the text, slogan and then the correct hashtags to the post before sending it out to her social media followers.
In the corridor with several other rooms like the one she had just left, Lyn found a Newton’s Cradle sitting on a table. Rhythmically clicking back and forth. She had a sense that she had put it there alongside the coffee cup, but didn’t dwell on searching out the memory of it as she left.