The Image

"My Lord!" Wisdom's voice cut the silence as the abandoned Tim, gliding across the floor to end up kneeling down before her Husband.

"That didn't take long," Justice chuckled, elbowing Tim in the ribs.

Still naked, it didn’t take Tim long to do an inventory of his hairless body. Huge breasts? Check. Round ass? Check. Erect penis? Check. As far as he could tell, nothing had changed. Even his hair, which had transformed into a fuchsia pixie cut just before the trade, was exactly the same.

Destiny, also completely naked, was standing near her Father, a look of pure exhaustion on her face, as if she had just finished running a marathon.

"Did it work?" Tim's feminine voice asked.

"Oh sweetie," Justice croaked, patting his cheek with a tree-bark cracked hand, "Did it ever."

"The chaos is..." Destiny panted.

"Gone," Justice announced, "All of it. Had to spread it around a bit, but it's done."

"But what did you trade?" Tim asked, his tiny voice slipping out of his painted lips.

"Your work," the impossibly deep voice of Justice's Father spoke, causing Tim's teeth to clench, "is satisfactory, daughter.”

The old man reached out his hand, touched Wisdom’s cheek, and drew her up to his face, kissing her gently on the lips. At his touch, Wisdom moaned, as if she had just experienced a small orgasm.

“Satisfactory?” Destiny said in a weak voice, “the mortal’s station has grown too high! It is our duty to trim weeds that threaten to…”

“He had brought to me that which I have long desired,” the creator said, Tim’s eyes aching with each syllable, “And for that he shall have my blessing.”

The last word echoed in the space for a long time, followed by a deep silence. Finally, when Tim could no longer handle it, he spoke.

“But what?!” He squeaked, “I can’t tell what’s changed!”

“Oh, I doubt you’d be able to see it, my little dumpling,” Justice said through yellow teeth, “the change is out there, in the world.”

“What do you mean?”

“What I mean, sugar-tits, is that you gave Daddy dearest back his wife, and he gave you his image. Or rather, what his image was used for.”

“I don’t get it.”

“Of course you don’t, darling,” Justice said patronizingly, “Daddy’s image was a template, something for all men to grow into, to be created like. Men still have a template, but now it’s you.”

“You mean…”

“There’s going to be some changes back home. Want to go see?”