A dream (TG, IRL route)

I get home via the bus, brush my teeth, and collapse into bed in my apartment. Yeah, it's only about seven thirty or eight, but that drink packed quite the wallop… I feel like I've had a dozen shots of whiskey.

I'm asleep as soon as my head hits the pillow, and find myself in dreamland… as vivid as last time. Tonight it's a dense fog, and I'm still feeling sloshed. I hear an old man's voice speaking, “Form your body…..” and see a lump of what looks like fleshy clay in front of me in the rough shape of a man.

“Oh, a lucid dream, eh?” I grin, and get to work. Let's see… I always like the wet variety of dreams, and get to it making a partner I'd never be able to score with in real life.

“A woman…” I touch the clay, and it forms a blank female mannequin, “...with a lot on top…” I touch her chest bumps, and they grow huge under my hands, larger than her head, “...sensitive and milky…” I pull on her milk taps, and they elongate, feeling slightly wet under my hands, “...green eyes, a tiny nose, pillowy sensitive lips, skin so dark it's almost black…” I wipe my hand over her face, and it is as I just said, "No gag reflex, and a willingness to take it in any of her holes," I stick my finger deep in her mouth, “...long black hair…” I touch her head, and her hair changes color, extending down to her ankles, “...and it's always better when she's into it; she should be at least a little horny full time and always wet and ready to take a baby batter baster…” I touch her lower lips, and they spread, moistening, “...and she should orgasm easily, often, and loudly; it's much less fun for me if she isn't having any herself…” I stick a finger into her baby bakery, and she makes a nice “O” face for me. I reach around and grab her rear, “...she should have wide hips and quite the backside, I want to see her jiggle from any direction…” her rear cheeks expand until they're nearly the size of her nursing sacks, her hips expanding to match “...and a tiny waistline…” I bring my hands to her waist, and it shrinks until I have my fingers close. “Long nails…” I tug on hers, and they extend for me. “Tiny feet…” I squeeze hers in until they're quite petite. “She should be tall…” I lift lightly on her head until she's taller than I am: I should be able to bury my face in her chest while hilting in her, and grin - might as well indulge my kinks, this is just a fantasy: “...oh, and a second pair of nursing sacks…” I walk around behind her, reach under her two large milk makers, and plant my hands on her lower rib cage, which produces two more mammary glands, identical to the first pair, covering her stomach. “No body hair below her neckline…” I wipe her crotch, legs, and armpits, leaving all of them smooth. I smile, and rub her back, “Oh, and I don't want her to ever complain, so her back should be strong enough to carry those udders well without support, sag, or pain.” I feel a bit of muscle form under my hands.

I stand back and look at her for a moment, “There, perfect. Now to…”

The voice of the old man chuckles, “So be it. Awaken…”

…and then the dream fades out as I hear my alarm clock going off.

I find I'm staring at my ceiling… no hangover, I don't feel tired… perfectly clear headed. I'm feeling ‘excited’... so I reach down for my morning wood… frown a bit as I work past something squishy… feels really nice… moan when my fingers find themselves slipping into something warm, wet, soft, and responsive where I was expecting a rocky rod. That's really odd, though… I pull my fingers out, and look… and don't see my own hand.

I look down… I can see a hollow in the covers where I should be. I scream: It comes out very high pitched and girly.

A moment later there's a pounding on my wall, and I hear, “Are you okay in there miss?”

I blink a bit and gather my wits, “I'm fine,” I shout back in a rich, feminine voice that doesn't sound like mine, “I just turned on the TV, I didn't know I had the volume up so high. It's fixed now, sorry.”

“Ah, it's fine… I've done worse.” The voice of my neighbor pauses, “So Dan the duck finally got himself a girl, eh?”

I feel offended… just because it's been a year since I broke up with that cheating… “Yeah, he's a dream in bed,” is what I actually say, “But we should probably stop shouting, or we're going to get complaints from the other neighbors.”

“Right,” the man agrees, and goes silent.

I reach for my phone, finding my kinesthetic sense apparently works just fine; nice that the body knows where it is at all times… pick it up, and tap my finger on the sonic sensor. It unlocks for me, and I find I have several texts… but my phone starts fading out of sight as I hold it. I set it down and it quickly fades back in. I purse my lips, frown at the sensation, and touch them… soft pillows that want to suck my finger in. Huh… withdrawing my finger, I go back to the phone, and check my messages… ah, the group text chat we use to coordinate schedules for gaming blew up.

Brian: “Yo, dudes! I had this rocking dream last night, and now I look Amazing! Check it out”

The text comes with a picture that… looks like someone pasted Brian's head on a Mr. Universe pageant winner, then erased his acne, straightened his nose, and otherwise molded his face to perfection.

Charles: “...I'd say you're showing off a new photo editing app, except…”

His text comes with a picture of himself… minus the rolls of fat, plus reddish skin, and… huh, why does his shirt stick forward like that? It's almost like he has… eh, it's probably just the angle.

Brian: “Well isn't that the cat's meow? Anything on the news?”

Charles: “Nope. Hey, Adam, Dan, care to chime in?”

Adam: “You're pranking me, right? You came up with this stupid idea after the game?”

Brian: “No, dude, just… it's easy to prove. Meet up at the library?”

Charles: “Make it my place. I have three cats here, each with a shell of segmented plates, each looking like they're on the high side of a hundred pounds of muscle. They seem well behaved, but I don't think I should leave them alone, you know?”

Brian: “Wait… didn't you say something about your animal companions being from a supplement?”

Adam: “Yeah, he took three Warcats of Rull from Belkzen, Hold of the Orc Hordes pg. 55. Stronger, healthier, and better natural armor than a standard ‘Cat, Big’ animal companion, but a little less dexterity, wisdom, and charisma. They make good combat brutes, but that's it.”

Charles: “Yes, that's what I wanted. I mean… three animals each of which can individually keep pace with a basic Fighter at level one? Sixteen AC, three attacks, eventually pounce… times three. Saves us from needing to play meatshields ourselves, at least until we have enough levels under our belts that they go down in utility… at which point, Monstrous Mount gets the three to stack, and I'll have an Animal Companion as a Druid of three times my level, minus six. Given that it'll be fifth when I pick that up, I'll have a Gryphon of a Druid-9 with eight hit dice then, Druid-12 with ten hit dice at 6th, Druid 15 with twelve at 7th, and so on. Already cleared it with Adam.”

Adam: “You did. I wanted a high power campaign, and it's just a flying charger… a good one, but that's all.”

As I get the next typing notice, I add my own before anyone else responds, “I woke up invisible.”

The typing notices stop for a bit.

Brian breaks the “silence”: “We turned into our characters, didn't we? Anyone tried to cast a spell yet?”

I pause, focus… and find that yes, if I concentrate, I can indeed make a few balls of light float around the room: The cantrip, Dancing Lights, that I put on my sheet.

“Just did,” I send, “it works.”

Adam: “Okay, all three of you are in on this Iseaki nonsense, huh? Fine. Meet you at Charles' place. I'll have a big laugh at your expense, too, when it turns out it's all a big prank. Why'd you all go with something so easy to disprove?”

Brian: “We didn't. I'll meet you there as soon as I find something that fits well enough to go out in public.”

Charles: “My bathrobe fits well enough, I'm about the same height… most of mine fit well enough to avoid major embarrassment, but I will definitely need to go shopping before work on Monday. Ugh, no money… thrift store clothes, I suppose.”

I nod, not that this is a video chat, and send, “I'll meet you there. I have some complications, but will be there ASAP. And… will anyone believe we're us?”

Brian: “My phone likes my fingerprint, and I've woken up in the drunk tank a time or two. It's provable enough for me.”

Charles: “Yeah… I still mostly look like me… I could just find some base paint makeup to cover the red… or just say it's a sunburn.”

Yeah, I don't have that option. “See you soon.”

I leave my phone on the nightstand for the moment, and go looking for things to wear. My fuzzy bathrobe… I find myself shaking when I put it on… right, Forbidden Knowledge(Perpetual Discomfort), for the oath points from Spheres of Power. I'm going to be stuck being fearful all the time with anything bulky. Ugh. Okay… what else… I try a shirt, and find there's something squishy in the way: I can't get it down. Pants… I can't get them over my hips. The idea of wearing a sweater makes my skin crawl… ugh.

Oh. I'm invisible.

I frown… well, it'll work, technically. I've just been reminded that there's no nudity laws here, and nobody can see anyway. I put on some socks and ill-fitting shoes, grab a cloth shopping bag, toss my phone, wallet, and keys inside, watch it all slowly fade away as I wait the minute that Adam ruled it takes for things I attend to become invisible, then take a deep breath, and head out the door.