Shift to Tabby

As the pimp raises his fist, you reach out in panic and focus your powers on Tabby. Immediately, you feel the indescribable sensation of seeing the world through two sets of eyes simultaneously. Your thoughts seem to overload with the sensations that are coming from TC’s body and Tabby’s. Your disembodied consciousness fights to retain mastery through the transition. For a few horrifying seconds, you also see the world through a third set of eyes, and you realize that it must be your own body, still back at the university.

It would be an exaggeration to say that you feel at all comfortable with your new powers or that any of the body jackings thus far have been “ordinary.” This one, however, is decidedly different. It feels as if you get half-way through the switch when you get stuck. It takes a monumental amount of emotional and mental energy to push your way all the way through to Tabby. When you finally find yourself occupying the hooker’s body, you feel so exhausted and disoriented that you almost fall over. You brace yourself against the wall, dropping your handbag as you do so.

The pimp is oblivious to your plight, however. His attention is on TC, who is also unsteady. On top of whatever physical toll the transition has taken, he has suddenly awakened to totally unexpected surroundings. The last thing he remembers is being with his girlfriend back at the cabin. Now he is in a totally unfamiliar place with some enraged guy screaming at him and threatening to pummel him.

TC is easily big enough to defend himself, but he is so overwhelmed by what is taking place that he does the sensible thing. He turns and runs. You see him disappear into the darkness and wonder why you didn’t think to do the same thing.

The pimp screams a few profanities at TC and then turns to look at you. “What the hell is wrong with you? Are you strung out again?” You are feeling a bit less shaky, but you are still not anywhere near normal. Something about that last change took something out of you. Maybe you are too tired or need some more time between changes. A frightening thought occurs to you: maybe your power is waning. Is it possible you could get stuck in someone’s body other than your own and never be able to shift back? You mentally curse yourself for allowing yourself to get distracted when you were so close to finding Dr. Burbank and possibly getting some help.

The pimp bends over and picks up your purse. “I can’t believe you not only offered to bang that John for half price, but you didn’t bother to see the money up front,” he mutters as he opens the purse and looks inside. “I just hope you made up for it with the rest of the night.” He pulls out a wad of currency and counts it. “$300? Is that it? I could have put my 80-year-old grandma on that street, and she would have turned more than $300 just by offering $2 handjobs! What the fuck, Tabs?”

You realize he’s wanting some kind of answer, but you honestly have no idea what to say. You stand there, slack-jawed, trying to come up with words. You are spared by the sound of a phone ringing in the office. Cursing under his breath, the pimp roughly hands you your purse while pocketing all of the cash. He steps into the office, leaving the door open, and answers the phone.

“Yeah? No, this is Marty. Jake is ‘interviewing’ a new girl. What do you want?” You look inside and see him standing at the counter, holding the phone and tapping his foot with impatience. His face clouds with mounting rage as he listens. He glances at you for a moment and then says into the phone, “Alright, I’ll take care of it. Just offer some free drinks to keep them there. I’ll send a girl down right away and I’ll see if I can find a couple of more. Yeah… OK.”

He slams the phone down and yells, “FUCK! What is it with you whores tonight, anyway? First you start giving it away for free. Now we’ve got a club full of horny guys, and half of the working girls don’t even show up. What’s going on? Are you trying to go union or something and get benefits?”

He scratches his balls and looks at you with irritation. “Well, I hope you didn’t think you were done for the night. Not after bringing me a miserable fucking $300. Out of the goodness of my heart, I had considered letting you work off the difference by fucking the hell out of you until I calmed down to my usual lovable self. Instead, I need you to get down to the club and work some tricks. And by ‘some tricks,’ I mean that you’d better make sure every pair of balls gets thoroughly drained before the night is over. You need to make up the difference from your shift, as well as keep our customers happy.”

Marty’s instructions echo around in your head. At one level, they make sense, but it feels as if you are in a dream. You still haven’t adjusted to the sensation of jumping from the body of an athletic African-American college boy to a Hispanic teenage hooker. On top of that, some emotionally-unstable creepy pimp seems to be ordering you to go service a bunch of strange men in a place you don’t even know. You stare at him and manage to say, “The club?”

Anger returns to Marty’s face. He points to a bulletin board on the office wall and says, “Yeah, the fucking club. What’s wrong with you tonight? I’d ask if one of your Johns punctured your brain by face-fucking you, but I can tell from your earnings that there wasn’t any of that going on. Unless you gave that away for free, too!” He points again to the bulletin board, and you see a poster for a “gentleman’s club.” The poster has pictures of naked and nearly-naked women dancing around poles and looking seductively toward the camera. The establishment’s name, “BITCHES” is plastered across the top of the page. At the bottom, just above the address, it promises, “Women! Nude! More!”

“Now get your skanky ass over there right now, and don’t even think of skipping out! You know what will happen if you do!”

Without waiting for an answer, Marty slams the door in your face.

You look around and realize that you are only a couple of blocks away from the club. You don’t know exactly what consequences the pimp was referring to if you fail to follow his instructions, but they certainly sounded ominous. Continuing in Tabby’s body definitely sounds like the most dangerous choice you could make tonight. Even so, you don’t know if you have it in you to make another switch. Even if you do, you’re worried about the prospect that your power may be fading. Suppose you can only switch bodies one more time? Wouldn’t it be best to wait until you can jump back into you own skin?