Mental Mixups

Becky watched the votes roll in with something that resembled relief. The one she was most worried about going to one of her family members would be hers instead.

"Well, the results are in," Jack narrated. "And you will be receiving our Inherit the Earth alteration."

There was a buzz in Becky's head as her personality rewrote itself. Her independence fizzled, and willpower diminished. She would be more accepting of what others told her to do, and afraid to step up to do anything for herself. She'd also be a great deal quieter, preferring to speak only after first spoken to. And that strong, exuberant side of her personality that had frankly gotten her and her family into this mess was erased completely.

"And how are you feeling, Becky?"

She bit her lip nervously.

"Okay. I guess. A little worried about the others." She said in a voice much less ringing than she'd spoken in earlier.

"As well you should be. I suspect your husband and children are going through some interesting changes right now."

*****

"Oh god...they can fuck with our minds too?" Amanda said, still taken aback by her age deepened voice.

"Language!" Her father scolded her in an equally bewildering feminine one. "Just because we got all weird here doesn't mean I'm gonna..."

Her words faded to a drone as a Amanda's mind warped. In a change contrasting her mothers', Amanda found her will hardening to steel. How dare this little mouse of a girl tell her what to do? She should be the one in charge. This new instinct would guide her life, as from now on, she would seek to be the master of every situation. Her natural shyness and meekness faded, replaced by a bit of a mean streak, and an urge to boss people around. It was exciting! Empowering! She felt she could be...no, should be the queen of the world.

She turned to Rob, sitting on her bed. She wasn't sitting spread legged anymore, but with her legs delicately drawn together. Her entire posture and shifted, straight backed in a way that emphasized her bosom with her hands neatly folded in her lap.

"You were saying, Dad?" She asked experimentally.

Rob turned to her politely, tilting her head in confusion. Then she remembered.

"Oh. Just that you shouldn't swear. It's very unladylike," She said. "But I guess it doesn't really matter."

Amanda let out a throaty chuckle.

"I'm guessing you got girly girl, then," She said. "Certainly suits your new look."

"That makes sense. I do feel kinda pretty now," Rob agreed with a girlish giggle. "I am so darn cute!"

Oh yeah, definitely girly girl. Still...something else felt off, too. She realized what it was at once.

"How are you so cool with this?" She said. "You were freaking out a minute a go."

"A lady doesn't lose her composure. Besides, I am a girl now, right? I might as well act like one."

Amanda supposed it was possible that becoming a girly girl made Rob accept the changes, but Rob seemed completely unperturbed about all of this. She spoke up to test further.

"I think I got HBIC. I'm feeling a lot more confident. Demanding. Maybe a little mean."

"Oh. Cool," Rob said. "I've always wanted you to stand up for yourself more, so that's great!"

She thought she understood what was happening.

"Scoot over. And change positions. Lay on your stomach."

"Sure!" Rob responded, making room for her by the laptop and dutifully turning over. She let her legs kick up in the air, resting her chin on her hand.

Amanda sat next to her and gave her upturned ass an experimental slap. It should have drawn a protest, both for the act itself and its wild inappropriateness, but Rob only giggled.

Now she was certain that Rob had picked up Down for Whatever as well. Why else would she be so suddenly carefree?

In truth, a part of her felt a little disappointed. It took all the fun out of pushing her around.

*****

Eric watched her Mom change on screen with a pang of sadness. Even from the time she was little, she remembered her mother being full of enthusiasm for everything. Whether it was her kids' school achievements, their latest crushes, her husband's work triumphs and failures, Becky brought an excitement and energy to life that made family trips as routine as a mall visit feel like something grand. As she'd gotten older and adopted her patented 'don't give a shit' attitude, she'd found that irritating. But watching Becky reduced from the Mom she'd grown up with to the meek and mild woman on stage almost made her want to cry.

It must have shown on her face, because, Travis was staring. He'd been side eying her for a while, attempting to watching the screen, but sneaking glances at her new body every few seconds. Now he was taking a long, lingering look.

"Yeah," Eric said, her voice holding mostly steady. "It's just hard watching Mom go through that."

Travis hesitated, as if unsure of whether he should comfort her or not. He began to stammer pleasantries.

"I'm sorry, man. It's gotta be rough watching your own Mom go through that."

Then, Eric grew distant, her own mind shifting. She was still aware of the cautious way Travis was dancing around her; how he wanted to comfort her, but didn't quite trust himself to touch her. She'd become his dream girl after all. He was a really sweet guy, but_ _unlike Eric, _was _still a guy, with all the urges to ogle and fondle and probably fuck her that inevitably came along with that.

She'd been denying that fact all this time, or at least choosing not to think about it, but now it made her a little excited. She wasn't anymore interested in him than she had been a moment ago, of course, but the fact that he wanted her was...well, it was more than a little alluring.

Without warning, Eric slipped beneath Travis' half raised arm, pulling it down over her. It was more comforting than she had anticipated. But more importantly, she actually felt his heart quicken and his body tense. She drew her legs up against her chest, entirely aware of the way it pressed her dress against her curves; of the appealing way it made her new tits come together. She'd also positioned herself just right, so that his hand draped over her shoulder, resting near her ass as she snuggled against him.

"Thanks," She said in the most sincere voice she could. "This isn't easy so like...thanks for being there for me."

She looked up at him, and found a boy with his hand in the cookie jar; clearly aware he was doing something wrong, but not quite able to stop himself from doing it anyway. His eyes drank in the sight of her, but seemed vaguely mortified by the sudden come on. Without looking at it, she was keenly aware of his hand, which hovered over her curvy (and at this point, nearly exposed) rear, torn between his desire to touch and the better angels of his nature.

"Wait, shit," He finally said, pulling fully away from her. He retreated across the couch, "The game! It's fucking with you!"

Eric sat up, suddenly angry and irritated with him for reasons she didn't fully understand.

"Yeah, no shit it's fucking with me," She said, brushing a strand of red hair back from her face, "Look at me."

"No, no..." Travis said, shaking his head. "That last box. The personality thing. Take it to the Limit. That's you!"

It took a minute for meaning to emerge from the word soup, but her eyes widened when it did.

"Oh my god...am I teasing you?"

Her skin went a fine shade of crimson. Suddenly she was aware of how she must look. Her skirt had ridden up so much that her new hoo ha was nearly flashing to the world, and Travis noticed it just as much as she did. That was exciting but, she decided, unacceptable. She sat up straight and pulled the hem of her dress down, flattening it against her curves until her cleavage strained against its neckline and her nipples stood stark against he fabric. That was almost worse...or better, depending of which of her conflicting instincts she listened to.

Oh yeah...she was _definitely _teasing him. And it had been such a thrill that it had almost taken her mind off of the game.

"I'm sorry," She said, feeling both intense embarrassment and unique pride at what she was able to do to him.

"Maybe I better go..." Travis said.

"No, please!" She responded quickly, leaning over to place a hand on his thigh to stop him.

Travis hesitated, looking at the hand as though it were some giant insect he was afraid of agitating.

"I promise I'll try to behave myself, but please don't go," She begged, immediately making herself a liar by brushing against his stiff cock as she pulled away "Brent already ran off on me and...just please don't make me go through this alone."

She pulled back entirely, giving him the most innocent look she could while also allowing him a generous view of her cleavage. She watched as the good man in him warred against its competing urges to comfort her and get away before he did something they both regretted.

Apparently his chivalry won out.

"Okay," He said, "But maybe give me some space, you know?"

Eric nodded and did as he requested, letting the middle couch cushion stand between them like some kind of phantom chaperone. But she also drew her legs up beneath her until she felt part of her ass expose itself, and stared back at the screen.

And although she pretended not to notice the way his eyes drifted to it as she **** herself to stare at the screen, she enjoyed every second of it.

*****

Lindsey had stopped paying attention to the game, now entirely absorbed by her own changes. She stood in front of the mirror in her walk in closet, dressed like some video game hussy, and tried to sort out what she'd been going through. She slipped the ridiculous blonde wig off, but was overwhelmed by how incomplete the outfit felt without it. Finally, she put it back on and resolved to just take the outfit off. But that hadn't been any more successful. She didn't mind slipping out of the suit into the lacy lingerie she'd apparently been wearing beneath it, but it just made her feel cold and exposed.

Finally, resolving that she would at least would change into something other than a bodysuit, she turned to her clothes to examine her options. She found they had all been replaced by dozens of tiny little outfits belonging to characters she didn't recognize. She picked one that looked reasonably normal from its hanger; a white, midriff baring crop top and tiny leather miniskirt with suspenders and work boots. She changed into it, relieved by the support the outfit's sports bra provided her huge new breasts. It apparently came with some absurd looking gloves, so she slid those on too, and she instinctually tied her hair into a ponytail at the spot where it draped over her ass.

She straightened, feeling somewhat normal, then stepped out of her closet.

"Oh. You changed." Her embarrassed boyfriend said.

Something came over her then. The humiliation she'd felt at her transformations disappeared, replaced by a certain pride in the way he was looking at her. The poor man was caught between arousal and shame. What did he have to be ashamed of? She was hot! For that matter, what had she been so embarrassed about? She had to body to pull off these characters. Why shouldn't she lean into it?

"You like?" She asked, leaning forward so he could see straight down the top. She twirled to the side, striking a cheesecake pose. "It's cute, but practical."

"Uh...yeah. I mean, you look great," Kevin said, unsure of himself. "But babe...are you...y'know, feeling okay?"

"Never better." She said, "Who am I dressed as anyway?"

Kevin seemed relieved that he had something to do but gawk at her.

"Uh, Tifa Lockheart. From Final Fantasy," He said. "She's a bartender, but also a resistance member. Badass martial artist. Kinda the main character's girlfriend."

"Oooh...lucky you," She said.

She certainly looked like a barmaid rather than a fighter, but started doing a series of aerobic stretches anyway. She smiled at the immediate effect they, and the skimpy outfit she was doing them in, had on her boyfriend.

"So...I think you're acting like this because of whatever thing you just got."

"Who cares?" She asked, stretching out her leg on her desk. The skirt rode up, showing off the athletic panties she wore beneath it, "This is way better than the freakout I was having."

"Yeah, I guess," He agreed, "I just know this isn't you."

She put on a showy pout.

"You don't want me to enjoy this?" She asked, affecting a tone of deep hurt.

"I...no. I just..." He stammered. "The game..."

She gave a soft giggle, sauntering toward the bed before sliding up to him, putting herself between Kevin and the laptop he kept trying to focus on.

"What about the game?" She said, pushing the laptop off the bed with a gentle kick. "I say we let it do what it's going to do and enjoy each other's company?"

With the computer gone, all his attention was directed on her. Just the way she wanted it.

"Okay," He agreed. "Fuck it."

"Good boy," She said, "Now, tell me more about this chick I'm dressed up as. I wanna put on a little show for you."

*****

"So, what's your next move, Becky?" Jack asked.

"I...I don't know," She admitted.

Becky had never felt less sure of herself in her life. She hated being in the spotlight. Hated having to make choices. This wasn't her; she knew that. But the academic understanding that she'd been brainwashed was, at least at present, flooded out by the bright lights in her face.

"You can quit now. Go home. Get out from under all this pressure." He suggested.

It was an appealing thought. Sure, she'd be leaving her family stranded, but at least she wouldn't be here, in front of everyone, **** to make all these sadistic choices.

"Then again," Jack continued mildly. "You wouldn't want to let everyone down, would you? Leave them stuck as they are? That would be really awful of you."

Becky winced. She didn't want to be awful either. He was toying with her, she realized; aggravating her new indecision by taunting her with both her choices.

"Please stop," She requested weakly, a blush forming on her face.

Jack laughed.

"Fair enough. I'm being awful," He said. "Go on then. Whether you stay or keep playing, you need to choose something."

She was deeply torn between her old desire to help her family, and her new one to get as far away from this situation as possible. Finally, she took a deep breath and made her decision.