Walk Rose through Jane's Cleansing

Reaching the lab, you return to operate the Juicer Max with Rose hovering over your shoulder, taking notes. Meanwhile, Cleansed Jane uses the empty side of the lab to practice tame skateboarding tricks.

“Is she retarded now?” asks Rose, watching Jane’s unimpressive routine.

“I think the Cleanser washes all individuality out of a person,” you say. “Frankly, Jane still skateboarding at all is impressive.”

“Did I look that dumb after I had a can?”

“You were still you,” you say, queuing up two more cans of Cleanser from the Juicer Max. “Just… less so.”

The machine hums and produces two more sealed cans of paint remover.

You and Rose both take one can each. She holds hers at arm’s length, like it’s part of an atomic bomb. “It’s seriously messed up you made me drink more than one of these.”

“Hey, I didn’t know what to do, you were pink.”

Rose frowns. “Fair point. So?” She motions to Jane. “She drinks two of these, she’s ready to go?”

You're not sure if it's strictly necessary, but... you picture Rose, naked, after you accidentally cleansed her of everything. If you’re really doing to Jane on purpose what you did to Pearl on accident, she’ll need to be broken down to the same base state of nothingness.

“Yep.”

The two of you form up and approach Jane. You stop her mid-wheely. The colorless girl halts, kicks up her board, and gives you and Rose an even look. “What’s up?” It’s like she forgot why you brought her here in the first place.

“We want you to drink this,” says Rose, popping her can of Cleanser and handing it to over.

The skater tucks her board under an arm, quietly takes the can, and examines its labeling. “Didn’t I already try this?”

“And you liked it, right?”

“I don’t remember,” says Jane, frowning slightly.

“Well then try it again,” says Rose, grinning as and pushes the can, and Jane’s hand, up to her mouth.

“Hey,” complains Jane, starting to put up resistance, but too late. A bit of Cleanser finds its way into her mouth, and like a suckling babe, she automatically closes her eyes and drinks deeply from the can.

Rose watches, fascinated. “Woah.”

You watch Jane, too. “I know, right?”

This new wave neutralization sweeps over Jane more quickly than last time. Her outer layers fades away entirely - shirt, shorts, shoes - leaving her in a pair of flesh-toned boy shorts, sports bra, and little liner socks. Her short hair desaturates from gray to pure white, her previously grey eyes turning the same shade.

Lastly, Jane's skateboard disintegrates out from under her shoulder - the arm holding it drops limp to her side.

Rose jumps back. “Woah!”

You step back with her. “I know!”

“It’s not contagious, is it?”

“It’s a soda, not a disease,” you say.

“Her skateboard didn’t drink the Cleanser,” counters Rose.

That is… true. But not relevant. Still, when you move back in to inspect your Cleansed friend, you do so with caution.

Jane barely acknowledges your presence, turning slightly to face you, but nothing more. Her lithe, athletic figure is left on total display. Abs, toned arms, legs, and Jane’s slender, streamlined chest, encapsulated only by the thin, stretchy fabric her bra.

So much skin. So close. You’ve dreamed of this moment, but never in your wildest imagination did you picture getting Jane in her underwear via transformational sodas. With your childhood crush so close, and so maddeningly passive, it requires great effort not to simply start feeling her up on the spot and running your hands all over her athletic body.

If Rose wasn’t watching, you know exactly what you’d be doing right now.

Instead, you ask Jane, “How was the drink?” You’re still checking her out as much as you can.

“Good,” says the reduced, stripped Jane. Her voice is quiet and even now, devoid of its usual lackadaisical charm.

Then, observing it’s safe to do so, Rose steps forward and feels up one of Jane’s boobs. “Hmm.”

Jane takes a slight breath, and looks down at what Rose is doing, but says and does nothing about it.

You slap Rose’s hand a way. “What are you doing?”

“Copping a feel,” says Rose, frowning at you. “Surprised it wasn’t the first thing you did.”

“She’s our friend,” you argue, hypocritically. But only because you’re mad you didn’t do it first.

“Yeah right, you’re just mad you didn’t do it first,” says Rose. “If her boundaries mattered to you, you wouldn’t have slipped her that can of Cleanser. You really didn’t think I’d notice when you used it on her out on the dance floor, huh?”

“You didn’t notice when it happened to you,” you argue.

“So she’ll have no memories of this,” says Rose, with a shrug. “What’s the harm? I just want to see what all the hype’s about. Jane’s cool, sure, but you’ve gotta have it pretty bad if I haven’t distracted you by now.”

“I… well, Jane’s special. Why are you so okay with this, anyway?”

“I should ask you the same question,” she says, with a snort. “It’s basically magic, right? Doesn’t feel like normal rules apply. Plus, apparently, this was me an hour ago, wasn’t it? And it turned out okay for me. So it should be fine for Jane too, otherwise your knee-jerk reaction would be to make sure I was okay, not do the same exact thing to somebody else.”

You’re unable to argue the point without revealing Rose is more different than you let on, and that you left her with far more than a love for video games.

“What happens when she drinks another?” she asks, nodding to the final can of Cleanser.

Your purpose again gains traction in your mind. This isn’t about Rose, or you, it’s about Jane. You’re filled with determination.

“See for yourself,” you say, cracking your can and passing it to the pacified tomboy. “Have another.”

Obediently this time, Jane sucks the can down.

“How many cans of this junk did I drink?” asks Rose, alarmed by the sight. “Where does it all go?”

“Maybe it all goes to the same place her skateboard did. Does it matter?”

“It doesn’t matter until it does,” Rose says.

Good point, but you’d rather not think about it.

Jane finishes the third can of Cleanser, and the final changes sweep through her. When you watched Pearl's final transformation, you were horrified. But with Jane? You’re brimming with excitement.

What’s left of her clothing fades away before your eyes. From her slight breasts, to her fuzzy sex, to her delicate toes, all of her’s totally bare, unhidden from view.

Your body surges with arousal.

Meanwhile, the flush of life recedes from the tomboy's body, her flesh taking on a grayish hue. Every hair on Jane’s head and body vanishes, leaving the young woman totally bald, from the crown of her head to the soles of her feet.

Deprived of mind and soul, the bare, athletic female body that was once Jane stands still as a statue. She stares straight ahead, arm bent at 90 degrees, with empty can clutched in hand. The only say you can tell you’re looking at a living woman, rather than a lifelike mannequin or wax sculpture, is her slow, even breathing.

Rose, flummoxed by the thoroughness of Jane’s cleansing, waves her hand in front of the naked woman’s face, trying to provoke a reaction. Jane - what was once Jane - doesn’t so much as blink.

“This is freaky,” says Rose. “And I was like this too? What if we just walked away?”

You wrinkle your nose. “She’d probably just stand there forever.”

“Would she collapse from exhaustion? Does she need to eat or drink like this?”

You’re not sure, but you don’t plan on testing it out. “I don’t know. Would you rather test it out, or would you rather help me do what we came here to do?”

Rose relents and steps away from Jane, hands up. “Cool your jets, geeze. I’m helping, I am. But I’m still wrapping my head around all this. So, boom, you made me a nothing-person. What did you do next?”

“Next?” you ask, rubbing your chin. Next, you fucked Rose up, both with your dick, and with some dirty talk. But you leave that part out. “I guess I just told you that you liked video games.”

“And viola, when you remixed me, retroactively, I did?” finishes Rose, amazed by the story. “Really that easy, huh?”

You shrug. “That’s how it worked with you.”

The two of you shift your attention back to the elephant in the room, Jane.

“So then,” says Rose, gesturing toward your blanked friend, “we tell her she wants to be your girlfriend, and we turn her back. Yeah?”