The Magic Box

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The Magic Box

A Short New Year’s Eve Story

 

By Shorngirl

 

         I stared over at the innocuous black box that sat in the corner of the room. It seemed harmless enough. Almost everyone had gone in, save for a few stragglers, myself included. It changed everyone who went in, and that scared the shit out of me.

One girl went in with jeans and t shirt and emerged wearing a frilly pink dress adorned with ribbons and bows, her long straight hair curled and put up in pigtails. She seemed horrified at first but quickly laughed it off as the party prank it seemed to be.

         One of the boys, who played for the football team went in sporting his high school colors and a neatly trimmed crewcut, but emerged a few minutes later wearing rainbow spandex, his manly beard and crewcut shaved to the skin. I didn’t see him after that.

         One after another had gone into the telephone booth-sized box, and come out changed in one way or another. Some found the changes agreeable, while others were less than pleased.

         It was New Year’s Eve, and the mood was electric. Mallory Winger always hosted the best parties, but she was known for her New Year’s bash, and everyone was there.

         “How does it work?” I’d asked her in between cocktails, as she flitted from one reveler to the next.

         “I haven’t a clue, but the guy at the magic shop swore to me that it would be a hit. So far, so good, yeah?” She smiled. She had been one of the first ones in and had emerged with her long blonde hair braided into cornrows and looking as though she’d spent a few weeks tanning in the keys. “You are going in, right?” She pressed.

         “I’ll get around to it,” I promised, with which, she simply shook her head and walked away.

         Mark, my boyfriend of a few years had emerged looking a bit hunkier and sporting a skintight outfit. He seemed a bit weirded out by it, but I certainly found the changes pleasing, to say the least. I couldn’t wait to get him home and explore what else had changed.

         “What’s it like?” I asked him, as he leaned against a wall, nursing his beer.

         “It’s a bit hard to describe, really. As soon as I was in there, everything went black and I started to feel, like, tingly all over.” He laughed, as if to shake off the next part. “Suddenly, I knew I was naked, you know. It was weird.” He shook his head. “Next thing I knew, the door opened and I walked out… like this.”

         “Wow, that’s so weird.” I managed as I ran my fingers over his newly expanded pecks and shoulders. “I like it.”

         “Well, I’m not sure if this shit is permanent, or anything, so don’t get too used to it.” He mused, flexing his bicep, which tested the fabric of this shirt. “You are going in, right?” He insisted. He inched me closer to the box.

         Just then, Susan Knox emerged from the thing. I’d always been jealous of her looks. She had to be the sexiest girl in school, and she knew it. Her boyfriend had had his hands full fending off advances all through their senior year, and to be honest, I don’t know how he put up with it.

Susan’s look of shock as she saw herself in the strategically placed mirror, was absolutely priceless. If toning down one’s appearance was a thing, she was the poster child. It was the ultimate make-under.

Her once flawless complexion was dotted with acne, her makeup non-existent. Where her chestnut hair was once long, thick, and flowing, it was bobbed short and hung lank and thin around her face. Even her buxom chest had been pared down to two points that barely showed under her understated smock of a dress. Of all the changes, her’s had been the most drastic, and shocking.

With a scream and a muted yelp, she ran out of the party, her boyfriend chasing after her. I wasn’t sure, but I swear I saw the slightest hint of a smile on his face as he turned back to look one last time at the box.

“That was some fucked up shit,” I said to no one. The mostly altered crowd milled about, drinks in hand, obviously thankful that the box had spared them anything so drastic. Midnight had come and gone, and sooner or later, I knew I was going to have to succumb.

“What about you, Sherry? We haven’t seen you go in yet.” Terry Wild said from behind me as I kept my distance from the strange box. I’d known Terry since middle school, and we were more adversarial than friends. She and I often traded boys and it seemed to be almost a competition for her, and for me, to be honest. I’m sure she was hoping I’d go in and come out something like Susan had.

“Come on, babe. In you go.” Mark urged from behind. Soon, everyone was chanting my name, as my boyfriend pushed me towards the door to the now ominous booth. Knowing I had little chance of escaping this fate, I relaxed, allowing him to open the door and nudge me ever so slightly inside.

“I hope we both don’t regret this, Mark.” I spat, more frightened than angry. He smiled, a strange knowing smile as the darkness enveloped me.

There was that first moment when you can’t really comprehend anything being that dark. If I’d held my hand up in front of my face, I doubt I could have seen it.

There was a strange smell, almost sickeningly sweet, and something seemed to envelop me. Then there was the tingling, much as Mark had described. I was thankful for the secretive enclosure because the next part was almost a turn-on. I felt fingerlike pressure all over my body, and I knew I was stark naked. Something was pushing, prodding, and pulling at my breasts, sex, and, well… everything else too. It was so weird. At the same time, a sharp tugging at my hair became almost painful. Then, as suddenly as it all started, it stopped.

I should have known something was wrong because I still felt naked. ‘Shouldn’t I at least feel something covering me?’ There was a sliver of light that invaded the darkness, widening, until the door was obviously open. I could feel the coolness of the outside invading that strange space, against my legs, arms, and torso.

I didn’t want to go out there. I knew whatever had happened had left me very different. To my horror, I saw a set of fingers appear at the edge of the door, and judging by the polish, women’s fingers. My body felt numb as she peered around the door, a look of shock and muted delight crossing her face. “Holy Shit! You’re fucking ‘X’ rated, Sherry. You guys have to see this.” She mused, swinging the door wide and grabbing my tingling wrist.

The light was almost too bright, but looking down I could see that I was naked. No, not naked, but the red leather body harness that I wore covered nothing at all. Before I got to the mirror, the gasps and titters from the crowd told me everything I needed to know, or so I thought. The only one who seemed the least bit composed was Mark, who looked almost pleased with what had happened to me.

The mirror was waiting before me, but my eyes were glued shut, not wanting to see what everyone was now laughing about.

“Come on, Sherry, open up.” Terry chortled, as I screwed them even tighter.

“No, I don’t want to see.” I whimpered. I felt something pull at my neck, and I realized that I must have been fitted with a collar. Giving in, finally, I allowed my eyes to open, taking in the damage that the dastardly box had wrought.

Naked would have been a blessing, the red leather straps of the body harness only accentuating my newly enlarged breasts and my suddenly hairless pussy. Each nipple was now adorned with a gold ring that glinted in the overhead lights, and a row of the same seemed to disappear between my legs, sealing my labia tightly together. The word “SLAVE” had magically appeared across my hairless mons, adding insult to injury.

I was indeed wearing a collar, from which a leash led right into the hands of Terry, my apparent tormentor. At first, I thought my hair had been drawn back tightly into a ponytail behind my back. On closer inspection, and much to my absolute horror, it had been shaved completely off.

“Look at you.” Terry mused, as she pushed my face closer to the mirror. “I love this.” She ran her fingernails over my exposed scalp, eliciting an unexpected response. I actually pressed into her petting. “Ooh, I think she likes it, everybody.”

“Okay, that’s enough fun.” Mark interrupted, wresting the leash from Terry’s hands and tugging me backward away from the mirror. Losing my balance, I fell to my hands and knees, which was right where he wanted me, apparently.

“You stay just like that, lover.” Mark insisted, his hand pressing down on my shaved head as I tried to stand. As he led me to the door, still crawling and much to the amusement of our friends, it suddenly dawned on me just what that damned box was.

Just before Mark had gone in, I’d imagined him just as he came out. Was this what Mark was imagining for me as he pushed me into that infernal box? Had Susan’s boyfriend, tired of fending off admirers, imagined her homely, but entirely his? And, what of the football player? Jesus.

The leather of the car seat was frigid against my naked body, and I couldn’t wait for the heater to start working. “Is this what you wanted?” I asked, rubbing my head, still not believing that my precious blonde mane was no more. He didn’t answer, perhaps afraid of what my reaction might be, were he to admit to it.

There was no hint of hair on my head, as I examined it more closely in the bathroom mirror. I ran my hand over it, wincing at the shiver of arousal that coursed through me. If all this was permanent, I wondered if that was too. Another caress of the silky-smooth skin and I wondered if that might not be so horrible a fate. I liked how it felt, more than how it looked, though. My stark hairless appearance would take a bit of getting used to.

For the time being, I maintained my lowly status, crawling here and there in our apartment, getting used to the feeling and where it put my head. The harness was tight, and form-fitted, and I wondered just how it might come off. The collar too seemed to have no way to unfasten it. The idea was both daunting and enticing in equal measure.

As I watched Mark strip, my arousal began to seep between the rings that held my sex closed so efficiently. My nipples too began to know the effects of the rings as their weight pulled down on them. He was an Adonis, a perfect body, his skin drawn taught over his freshly hewn frame.

He was my Greek god, and I, his dutiful slave, I toyed. As he approached the bed, his cock was larger and more erect than I ever remembered it. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” I insisted.

“Would you be angry if it was?” He asked, pulling me down to the bottom of the bed and opening my legs. His cock was inches from me, as he pulled on my leash.

“Only if you can’t figure out how to remove these rings.” I mused, a hint of frustration in my tone. I ran my fingers over the cold metal loops that sealed me closed from top to bottom, moisture slick on their surface.

“You know, I never even thought about that.” He grinned, pulling my mouth over his engorged member, his fingers wrapped tightly around my hairless head. I’d never been used like that before, and I realized I was nothing but a tool for his pleasure. I felt myself getting closer to coming as he used me, my mouth a living cock sleeve as he emptied himself deep inside me.

My orgasm was overwhelming as I felt his warm liquid invade my throat; obviously, the catalyst that had pushed me over the precipice. He ran his hands over my sweat-soaked skull, admiring what he had created. “Did you come?” He asked.

I nodded, as he explored my new nakedness with his fingertips. “Yes. It was amazing.” My tongue almost lolling out of my mouth.

“I guess we don’t have to worry about the rings, then, do we?” He mused.

I ran my fingers, achingly over my swollen labia and the rings that bound them together. My new reality hit home, as another orgasm sliced through my center like a sword. “I suppose not.”

4 responses to “The Magic Box

  1. Thank you for your comments. This was a quick ‘shortie’ for the holidays, so the idea was almost a bit half-baked. I promise the next one will be a full length story with a bit more plot. I have a notion about the next storyline, and it’s different from what I’ve written in the past. Thanks again!
    Claire

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