Hotel Musings

Through the frame of the hotel mirror, Tim stared at a face that he did not know. Of all the trades so far, that one had hit him the hardest. Not that being **** to wear makeup hadn't been difficult, nor that the growth of his huge breasts hadn't shaken him, but the loss of his face was profoundly difficult to accept. Even while he dressed like a slut, even while he acted like a flirt, at least Tim had still looked like himself. Now that, too, was gone. He was beginning to wonder who he was anymore, who he was becoming.

"I don't know what you're moping around for," Justice said, sitting on the corner of the bed, pulling a taco from a fast food restaurant bag, "I think you're cute. Looks much more in line with..." she waved the taco in his direction, "... your whole thing, now."

"My whole thing?!" Tim's normally sing-song voice sounded shrill as he rounded on the immortal, "This isn't my whole thing! This is your whole thing!"

"Need I remind you that everything in your whole thing was given to you fair and square, all traded, weighed, and overseen by none other than yours truly," she paused to take a bite of the taco, spilling lettuce over her lap, then continued with a full mouth, "And if it wasn't for those trades, you'd be up Shit Creek without a paddle. Try to focus on the positives for a change."

Turning back to the mirror, he reached up and touched his now tiny nose. It was a cute, button nose, not unlike the noses on women he'd always admired. In face, his whole face was cute, Justice hadn't been lying about that. It just wasn't his face.

Well... technically, Tim supposed, it was his face. From the perpective of the rest of the world, Tim had always looked like that. Soft jawline, high cheekbones, tiny nose, all of it his from birth. When he returned home, all of his family photos will have changed, his ID will have changed, the only thing that won't have changed would be his memory, his sense of self. That would be more difficult.

But it had saved his life. Giving away all the masculinity in Tim's visage, as Justice had explained it, had been just enough weight to take every ounce of respect Rick Santos was able to carry in his being. With no respect, Rick had lost his place as head of the organization, and was easily able to be disarmed by his former lieutenant. After all, why kill Tim? Tim held the respect of every person in that bar, killing him would be absurd. But Rick? Everyone hated Rick. Rick didn't even respect himself. Being told to take the fall by someone like Tim, backed up by T-Bar, would at a minimum give Rick a purpose, distract him from the miserable life he was living. He probably felt that going to jail, even facing the **** penalty, was what he deserved.

And from what Tim knew about Rick Santos' former life, it was.

"Besides," Justice continued, picking up pieces of taco shell that had fallen and shoving them into her mouth, "You did it. That cop lady will take Santos in, make sure he's booked, and Martina will be free by morning. You're a hero!"

He couldn't help it. A smile crept onto his painted lips, an unfamiliar smile, but a smile nonetheless. Martina would be free. What kind of life would she have now, walking away from such an accusation? Would her job still be there for her? Would her family believe her? She would avoid incarceration (or worse), but there was no way she could ever go back to the life she had before.

Tim reached behind him and began to unzip his sexy red dress. He had stared at his reflection long enough, and decided that since he was powerless to change his face, he would learn to live with it. It would take time, but eventually he would begin to recognize the reflection as his own. His sense of self felt like it was in a state of upheaval, a feeling that grew with every trade that Justice gave him. When it was all over, if it ever ended, would he be in any way recognizable as the man he once had been?

The dress fell to the floor, leaving Tim standing in nothing but a pair of black high-heeled shoes and a pair of red panties that were custom designed to hold his penis snugly inside. His nipples grew erect in the cool air of the hotel room, and the thought of holding them in his small hands, even just to warm them, made his penis twitch. Despite all the changes he had experienced, Tim still felt arouse by the notion of touching a pair of breasts, even his own.

"What's going to happen to her now?" Tim asked, leaving the mirror and moving toward the dresser to find a nightie to sleep in.

"Martina?" Justice asked, mouth full of taco, "Same as ever I guess. My sister wouldn't be so generous as to allow a future of plenty for someone associated with you. Probably will end up working a dead-end job, getting together with another loser. But she won't die in jail, so that's something."

Tim slipped the red satin nightie over his head and made his way to sit next to the immortal.

"Should we..." he mused, "I don't know. Do you think that I should help her a bit more? Like, take her home and give her a fresh start?"

"Tim! You dog!" Justice guffawed, bits of taco spraying out of her mouth, "You just excaped **** and now you want to add the waitress to your sugar-train?"

"I mean, I didn't mean..." Tim stopped himself. Yes he did. That was a result of one of his trades. He couldn't help it. When there was something that he wanted, he went for it. Even in her distraught state, black eye, messy hair, handcuffs, Martina had been a sight of beauty for him, one of the sexiest women he'd seen in a long time. And that was saying something, considering the group of women back home who were waiting for him, "Yes. At least I think I should get to know her, give her the choice. If she wants to go back to her old life, she can, but if she wants to come with me, then maybe we can see where things take us."

"Oh, I've got a pretty good idea where things'll take you, sweet-cheeks," Justice said with a knowing look on her deeply lined face, "But listen, I can't just transport people here and there around the universe. You're a special case, as you and I have a deal, but I think if I zapped the waitress to your place, I might just break her brain."

"That's okay," Tim smiled, "I think I can get someone to take her home. Maybe Raven can help her out."

"Now there's a woman with possibilities," Justice said with a lecherous tone, "I'm surprised you didn't make a move on her yet."

"I think she has a boyfriend," Tim said, "Or fiance or something. She's wearing a ring. When we were together I couldn't help myself from flirting, but maybe I shouldn't. Maybe she's happy with him."

"I don't think that's your decision to make," Justice said, "You could use the gifts you got from Lust and Desire to manipulate things, but something tells me that you're the kind of man who likes to let a woman make up her own mind."

Tim thought it over and realized that the old woman was right. He could make up her mind for her, turn up the lust so high that she never thought of whoever was waiting for her back home again, but he would never be able to live with himself. Still, there was no denying that he wanted both Martina and Raven. When would it be enough? When would Tim have enough women to feel satisfied?

Pushing the worry from his mind, Tim lay back on the bed, feeling his unhindered breasts flop to the sides. His new body was small, and even with his high heels on, his feel dangled off the end of the bed, not touching the ground. The bedding felt soft against his hairless skin, and it was tempting to close his eyes and fall asleep right then and there, but he had one more task ahead of him.

Reaching for the night stand, he unplugged his phone from the charger. There were messages from his girlfriends at home, all wondering where he was, wondering if he was okay. A particularily harsh one was from his mother, who alternated from a stern matronly tone to that of a needy lover. He would respond to each and every one in turn, giving them what information he could, hopefuly placating them with a loving words, attentive responses, and a dick pick or two. But that would have to wait. He had a more pressing text to send.

Hey sweetie, he couldn't stop himself from flirting, even on text, Thx for the help tonight. You looked hot in your civvies, and I'm sure you're driving the boys wild at the station!

Hitting send, Tim closed his eyes, trying to concentrate. He needed to focus!

When Martina gets out, could you bring her to see me? I'd love to have a visit before I go home.

The text was sent, there was no turning back. He was just going to talk, see if there was any chemistry there, see if he was barking up the wrong tree. At least that's what he told himself. His stiffening penis, barely held in his red panties, told him something else.

"Now that was a good taco," Justice said, emphasizing the sentiment with a burp, "Tell ya what I'll do. I'll give you tonight, payment for a good deed. I'll be back in the morning when you get done with the girls, then I'll take you home." She gave him a knowing look, then a wink, "Have fun, stud-muffin. Enjoy your reward."

Just then a text came in. It was from Raven.

I'll let you know when we're on our way.

When he looked up, Justice was gone.