[Notes: for the author and audience]
Bob: a petite, sexy young woman.
Sal: unchanged, slightly overweigh redhead.
Diane: blond with model-grade looks. Physically unchanged, but now finds she swing both ways.
Bryce (narrator): Fogetting who he was before finding himself in a CYOC story. Now a tall, skinny emo kid with piercings and tattoos. And a strong cannabis habit.
Dean: An ostrich dressed as a maid. Mute.
Steve: Currently a humanoid vegtable-being.
Bob took her time rolling the dice, holding them in her delicate (slender, petite, pretty, with their carefully painted nails and-- I shook my head, trying to get my attention back on what was happening) hands, shaking and shaking them, as if doing so would improve the roll.
I noticed her (lovely gray-blue) eyes were studying the board. She was counting how many more spaces until the end. Looking down, I saw the end was at least a few more turns away. In this game that was practically forever.
At last the dice hit the table, clattering clear across the board. A three was the result.
"Damn!" she swore, setting back in her seat as her piece advanced. It stopped by mine. The space still said to draw two cards. She angrily snatched them off of the top of the deck.
"Talk about unfair, your head is full of air!" her voice rose at the end as she shot out of her chair. A distracted look came across her face. She looked, puzzled, around the table.
"What? Oh, it's my turn?"
"You have a second card to read," Sal answered, eyes wide.
"Oh, yeah!" Bob added with a laugh. "Talk about unfa--"
"You've read that one!" three of us-- me, Sal, and Steve-- interrupted. I noted that she had been sounding out the words as she read them.
"Ooopsy!" she giggled, switching cards. "Hungry, hungry, hippo? Oh!"
Her hands shot to her mouth-- which shot outward to meet her hands, forming a long, broad snout. All her hair fell out while her head flattened, ears moving to the top. Her skin was darkening, turning brown, with a lighter brown in front. And her stomach...
Her stomach sagged down, down, absorbing most of her legs. Without warning, all her clothes suddenly contracted, meeting about halfway down her body where they formed into a clear, white tutu. Beneath that, a broad, flabby descended, with a short, fat tail at the bottom.
Shifting my eyes back up, realizing that I now found Bob anything but attractive, I noticed she now had only three fingers and a thumb on each hand. On her feet were ballet shoes. She was a hippo from Fantasia. Maybe the Spells 'R' Us Old Man had been having a movie night...
Bob the hippo ballerina sat back in her chain which, with an impressive "Crash!" collapsed to the floor.
"Ooops!" Bob said with a giggle, a paw-like had going to her mouth. She remained seated on the floor. Apparently she had gained height, too, since the table was at just about the right height for her now.
Sal was clearly shocked.
Maybe the mental changes were more scarier-- NO! "more scary!" to her than the physical ones? Maybe she had a point. What had I looked like before I came in here? I recalled clearly entering here from my p.o.s. car parked in the street as well as coming into here from some sort of long hall of doors... I shivered, and noticed Sal had thrown the dice.
Her counter moved ahead. I had trouble counting how many spaces. That weed had been, like, STRONG! I squirmed in my chair, while Sal took a card.
"That cannabis was not for, so now you are Velma from Scooby-Doo!"
"Velma?!!" she shouted. "Jinkies! I can't be Velma!"
Her hands shot to her mouth.
"I, I tried to say f-f-JINKIES! I can't swear!"
"It wasn't that kind of show," spoke Steve. His breathless voice showed no emotion. "Although, on the Venture Brothers, it was said she was the one you really wanted to get in bed."
Somehow I doubted Sal was listening. Sal had been wearing a large t-shirt. It was now turning brown, becoming more shapeless as her stomach sucked in, and her breasts firmed up. A large, turtleneck like collar formed and the material went from cotton to some fuzzy, probably synthetic, material. Her hair slowly became brown, and sucked itself back into her skin partway, leaving at just below ear length around the sides and back. Her hair in front had already been the correct length. Sal's blue jeans went next, legs merging, then shrinking up her legs, while becoming baggy and developing pleats. For a moment the blue color of her jeans became purple, before turning red. Although the material seemed to remain cotton, it thinned out to a soft material.
As the blue jeans legs(?) rose, it was revealed that Sal now had thick socks the same color as her sweater/shirt. On her feet were red shoes of the kind I thought maybe were called "pumps."
She stood up, now shorter than before, holding her hands out in front of her.
"Oh no! Not again!" she exclaimed, clumsily moving in my direction, squinting.
As she came in my direction, I stood up. Apparently she couldn't see where she was going and could run into something, I reasoned.
She ran into me.
"Shaggy? Have you seen my glasses?' she asked, squinting into my face. "Oh, sorry! I thought you were Shaggy. You smell just like him!"
I could not come up with a reply.
"Your glasses are on the table," Dianne announced, picking them up. Sal turned and Diane placed them on her face.
"Thanks," Sal replied, adjusting the squarish, large, black plastic frames. Blinking, she looked around. "Who are you guys?"
"And why is that hippo wearing a skirt? And, uh," she stopped, staring at Steve. Steve moved a boneless vine arm and waved.
"Let me guess," Steve began, his voice still holding no trace of emotion. "Your name is Velma and you are wondering where your friends are?"
"Yes, we were on our way to examine a haunted house," she explained. "We'd just picked up this large, bearded guy and his skinny, long haired friend."
Everyone stared.
"'Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back'!" I announced. It had just popped into my head, and bypassed my brain. I'd have to watch that. "In 'Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back' they hitch a ride in the Mystery Machine. I can't recall if it was in the movie or the out takes."
"Yes, those were their names!" replied Bob/Velma. She saw the bag of pot, picked it up, looked around and settled on me. "Is this yours?"
Silently, I took the bag. I'd forgotten Velma had freckles.
"Er, thanks," I added belatedly. Uncomfortably, I looked around. "We were playing a game..."
"We were playing this game in this house which is supposed to be haunted. Somehow the game seems to have become magical. She became a hippopotamus, he a plant-man, and you appeared," Diane interrupted, explaining quickly, if not accurately. "Someone needs to win the game in order for everything to go back to normal. We need to get this over with as quickly as possible. Please sit down and hand me the dice!"
"Oh, I think I saw that in a movie once," Velma answered, sitting down and handing the dice over. The explanation hadn't phased her a bit.
"Are you that upset about being bisexual?" I asked Diane, again before my brain had actually processed what I was saying. Damn it!
Diane glared at me, tossing the dice on the table without looking. One dropped over the edge landing by my foot.
Reaching down I picked it up.
"It's a--" I began.
"It doesn't matter, the game moves our pieces!" she snapped. "I CAN'T like girls! My parents' religion disallows homosexuality, they would disown me and say I am going straight to HELL!"
"..." was all I could get out.
Meanwhile, I saw her piece move out of the corner of my eye.
Without looking, she grabbed a card off of the stack.
"'Actually, that was a free space, but your enthusiasm I embrace'," she read, snapping her head to look at the board. Her piece was on a blank square, well ahead of the rest. "Shit!"
She turned her head back to the card. Her eyes widened. "OH shit and damn!"
"What--?" I asked. Then stopped.
Ridges were growing along Diane's spine, tearing holes through her top. Then, as if blown by a breeze coming straight from the floor, her top flew off, vanishing in mid-air. She had been wearing a skirt, but I had no idea where it had gone.
Underneath was..., not a woman. Or human. Diane's skin was now green and scaled, softer looking in the front, dark and rougher in the back. There were no breast or other genitalia to interrupt Diane's smooth, segmented front. The ridges, which were now a nearly black green, darker than Diane's back, seemed to begin between her?/his?/its? shoulders, were now a few inches, maybe four or six, from her back. Diane's shoulders had narrowed, but her hips narrowed even more. She was now tall and thin. Thinner than me, and her shoulders barely had a V-taper at all. In fact, she/he/it was now about the same width from shoulders to hips. I heard something scrape the floor.
A tail, thick and long, was dropping out of her backside-- WAS her/his/its backside! If it weren't for her/whatever barely more than pipe-stem arms and legs (three fingers and a thumb and three toes, light green pads, white, thick nails, or, more correctly, claws) "she"would have looked like a serpent. I returned to "her" head.
Two short fangs pointed to the floor. Like Sal, "she" was growing a snout, with nostrils on top. But, where Sal's snout was broad and thick, Diane's was long and narrow. And lead up the large eyes with red pupils.
For some reason a small red cap with a long, purple feather.
I happened to glance at the card. It read "The player two seats to your left needs a dance partner."
Fantasia, again. The crocodiles which danced with the hippos. Which probably also meant Diane was now a "he."
Diane turned his head toward Bob, her batted her improbably long lashes at him. Together they got up, moved into the middle of the living room, ...and began dancing. Reality twisted, and the rest of the living room seemed to fade out. fading back in as broad, flat patio-type area, with Roman columns on the sides, a small fountain.
Uhm...
A loud rap came from the table. The ostrich was staring at me. My turn.
I swallowed hard and took the dice. Eleven. And a card.
Numbly, I took a card.
"BLAST! I got the ostrich wrong! They were ballerinas, too!" it read.
"What's it say?!" asked Velma.
I blinked, and the writing changed.
"Sorry about that. Hey, don't read this out loud!" I began.
The ostrich next to me made an odd noise.
"Oh!" I said as the words changed again. "Gay or straight, all teen boys masturbate."
"What's that me-e-AN?" I asked. My voice felt weird, and broke near the end. I tried to open my mouth and continue speaking, but my voice refused to cooperate, and nothing came out. My body was vibrating, tingling, or something. The room seemed to be receding... Then it stopped.
I knew what had happened. I was now younger..., and--
I sprinted for the bathroom. I'd never felt this aroused, this horny before!
Slamming the door, I headed over to the toilet. My did was so erect I couldn't force it out of the fly of my skinny jeans. Fumbling the belts (belts? Whatever!) and the button I finally got them and the Spiderman(?!) briefs, reached out and grab--
It went off a the barest touch, and my cum hit the wall right above the toilet. Thankfully, there was almost none. Panting I leaned against the wall.
Wow.
I suspected a few years worth of horniness had shot out of me. Looking down, I noticed the my "equipment" was barely more than a child's. I couldn't even tell if my balls had dropped or not.
I cleaned the wall, then looked in the mirror. A boy, still with emo hair, piercings, but no tattoos or pizza delivery shirt, looked back. I pulled out my wallet. I was still Bryce, but I only had a school i.d. No driver's license. And I was barely 13, and now 4' 8". I had one heck of a growth spurt coming!
I got my pants back up and on, and returned to the table.
The hippo and crocodile were still dancing, but a sumo wrestler had replaced the ostrich.
"It returned me to an athlete, but changed my nationality," Dean explained in heavily accented English.
"And sport," I observed. Then my hand went to my throat. My voice was an alto! Barely a teen... "teen boys" the card had said. More boy than man. My parents were going to be pissed! Or, did I have...?
Steve-the-plant snaked out his vine-arms, vine fingers enveloping the dice. It was the most unnatural thing I had ever seen....
The dice hit the table and Steve's piece moved ahead. He was now in last place.
"Although you look good in, return to a human being," he read from a card. His skin turned from green back to a much more normal skin color. The vine-hair fell from his. His arms and legs dropped off...!
Then his flesh began moving around...
Different faces came and went. His stomach expanded, then contracted, then repeated but in a different way. Breast grew, became "man-boobs" then vanished. Hair grew out, pulled in, changed colors, developed male pattern baldness, only to fill it in.
Then a skinny, older man, white hair, a bald patch which left only a tuft of hair in the very front, a white goatee, pale, wrinkled skin, white eyebrows. He was wearing a worn looking denim shirt.
"Thank God! I'm--" he stopped, feeling his face. "Crap. I'm not me, am I?"
"Not if you were a different human," Velma/Sal informed him. "I take it you were younger?"
"Great. Now I'm old," Steve griped.
"At least you're a human," advised Velma/Sal.
"And an adult," Dean added, looking at me.
"And in the country legally," I shot back, glaring at Dean-the-Sumo-Wrestler.
"I may be," replied Dean, folding massive, flabby arms against the bare skin of his sagged, be-boobed chest.
Why did sumo wrestlers have to dress in only a diaper-like thing? Yuck.
Even his hair, in a short braid, looked fat.
"Hey, uh, Bob?" called out Steve, age making his voice sound brittle. "It's your turn."
He continued to stare. The light in the patio like area was fading, and stars were coming out.
The hippo-Bob kissed the crocodile-Diane delicately and the cheek and daintily danced her way back to the table.
The crocodile followed, slithering on all fours, returning to his chair. I couldn't help but note he could probably swallow me in one bite.
I gulped, and found myself playing with my pipe, absentmindedly getting set to refill it. I hesitated, and then decided "What the heck?" and continued.
A large, fat hand enveloped mine.
"You not old enough for it," Dean informed me, his English worse than before.
"It's medicinal!" I insisted, unable to keep a pout from my face.
"Maybe later," replied Dean. The pipe, baggie, and lighter wound up in one of his huge hands. He set them on the opposite side of him from me.
I looked at the baggie and felt my mouth water. Swallowing, I turned to see what was happening with the game.
Apparently nothing. Hippo hands were fumbling with the dice. Finally Bob got them off of the table, and the drop apparently qualified as a roll. Bob's piece advanced. The space where is stopped was blank. The hippo looked up, and batted eyes at the crocodile. Or at least I hoped it was at the crocodile, and not me.
"Do I go now? Shouldn't I start at the beginning?" asked Velma/Sal, reaching for the dice.
"You are replacing a player," I informed her, cringing at the sound of my voice. "When you, like, appeared, she sort of disappeared."
What the heck was wrong with my speech pattern? "Like" and "sort of" inserted unnecessarily?
Velma seemed to buy it
.
"Okay then," she answered, preparing to roll the dice. "Here goes nothing!"
The dice hit the table, along with her glassed. The crocodile gallantly returned them.
"Thank you," replied Velma, looking up as her piece glided resolutely forward. A card space.
"Back three spaces?" she read. Her piece retreated. "Take a card" faded from the place on which it stopped.
She'd dodged a bullet. As long as she didn't mind being the nerdy girl from an older cartoon show, that is.
Green and scaled Diane took the dice and, with a fancy flip of his hand, tossed them on the table.
1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10. Diane was well in the lead.
The crocodile picked up a card, glanced at it, and dropped the card to the table.
Craning my neck, I caught a glimpse of the writing.
It read: "Feet to inches, inches to fractions."
I saw movement out of the corner of my eye, and turned toward Diane. Who was rapidly dwindling I guessed his starting height, as an crocodile man, at around six feet or so tall. The same height as his hippo dance partner. Already he was half of that, and growing, er, shrinking smaller.
He grabbed the edge of the table and held on as his body grew smaller. At about one foot he pulled himself up and stood on the table and the shrinking slowed. He stopped at about a half foot. Standing on the table, he examined himself, while I grabbed the dice.
I liked age regression fiction, but now I was worried about becoming a kid that was something other than human, and I still felt pretty sure this wasn't the world I came from.
About to roll the dice I blinked as a stray thought crossed my mind. If I was having trouble remembering where I had come from, and wasn't certain if my name really was "Bryce," what else had I forgotten. I used to know how to drive a car, hadn't I? Had I driven here? And why had I come here?
I shivered and threw the dice.
I automatically reached for the deck, pausing just short of touching it to check if I was supposed to draw. Of course I was.
"Get stoned for three turns!" the card advised and I read aloud.
"All right!" escaped my mouth with a swell of excitement. A part of me wondered "what's with all the pot?" but that part was ignored as I felt a strange sensation creeping into my feet.
"Your skin...," said the sumo wrestler next to me.
I held my hands up, and watched them grow paler, while the numbness increased the speed of its climb up my body. My hands looked like marble!
In a panic I dropped my hands to the table, preparing to bolt from the table to-- well, that I had no idea. I realized that as I realized my body, from just below the chest on down wouldn't respond to my orders. My chest felt stiff...
I stared helplessly at the wall opposite me as my flesh stiffened. Awareness dimmed then faded out.