Under The General's Command (Complete)

[Rubilax]

Originally Posted by frice2000

Remains pretty interesting. Could have done a bit more with her psychology changing here as well as the body but overall you're showing a nice portrait. Thanks very much for sharing.

No problem. The reason why the focus has shifted away from her psychology is that she's accepted the changes. Before, she was actively resisting them or just trying to cope with what was happening. But now Ferris has decided that this is the person that she wants to be, hence why the changes are nowhere near as painful as they were at the start.

[Rubilax]

---UPDATE! GO!----

Lara moaned softly as Will kissed her neck, his hands fumbling as he undid the last of her coat's buttons. She wasn't entirely sure what had caused the couch they were caressing each other on to suddenly pop out from one of the walls, but that didn't really matter. She was just happy being there, alone with one of the most handsome men she'd ever met. Her excitement grew as Will slowly probed his way over to the lapels of her coat and pulled them back to expose the flesh that lay below. He pulled his head away from the embrace to look at what laid beneath the blue folds, and gave a low whistle of approval.

"You like it?" She said dreamily, pushing her chest out to show off the red push-up bra she'd put on just for the occasion.

Will responded by wrapping his arms around her and locking his lips with hers. As there tongues wrestled lovingly, Lara closed her eyes, letting her sense of touch guide her as she expertly undid her partner's belt buckle. There was absolutely nothing in that could spoil this moment for her, nothing except for

A loud thump resounded from behind them, startling them out of their pre-coitus ritual.

"Goddammit Ferris," Will snapped, his head whipping around in an instant, "Don't you know how to..."

Will froze, the anger draining away from his face to give way to surprise.

"Knock?" A mature female voice growled. Lara bolted upright at that, her eyes wide with shock. Her mouth opened and closed uselessly as she tried to process this latest development.

"F-ferris?" Will stammered.

"Sup," The woman replied tersely as she vaulted out of the hatch with surprising limberness. Will tried to give her a one-over, but failed to make it past the vast expanse that was her chest. There was something hypnotic about the way her breasts shook with even the slightest of movements, which was not at all helped by the sheer amount of cleavage that was on display.

"Y-You changed," Lara said, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. Ferris frowned at her.

"And just who are you?" Ferris said tersely, her steel eyes boring into the young woman

"Lara," she squeaked in response.

Confusion flickered across Ferris's face, followed shortly there after by realization which in turn hardened into a cold, unreadable expression. Lara felt a chill run up her spine as Ferris clenched her fists.

"Tell me Lara," Ferris's said all to evenly as she walked towards the young woman cowering on the couch, the floor creaking and her chest quaking with each heavily step, "How much did it hurt?"

Now it was Lara's turn to be confused.

"What?"

Ferris slapped Lara across the face, hard.

"Hey!" Will exclaimed, reaching out to pull Ferris away from his girlfriend. Ferris blocked the arm and drove her elbow into his sternum with such force that it drove him halfway across the room and left him sprawled on the floor. She then stooped down, grabbing Lara's chin and forcing the shorter girl to meet her steely gaze.

"I said, how much did it hurt when you changed, Larry?" Ferris snarled

"W-who's Larry?" She stammered. Lara cried out as Ferris tightened her grip.

The girl in front of her wasn't the self-absorbed Neanderthal. Sure, there were similarities, but they were subtle, like those between two cousins. The fact that the petite woman with rounded curves in front of her had once been the bane of her existence wasn't the reason why Ferris's temper was beginning to rise. No, what enraged Ferris was the fact that Lara hadn't shown even the smallest hint of recognition at the sound of her old name.

"Hey Bitch!"

Ferris instinctively turned her head towards the sound of the irate voice. She didn't notice the fist coming at her face until it was too late.

----

Entering the home stretch now. I might just make my goal of finishing this story by the end of the month.

[frice2000]

Remains pretty interesting. Will be fun to see the conclusion.

[Rubilax]

Thanks!

And it's funny you should mention the conclusion, because lookey what I got here:

----ADDITION FINALE - FINAL UPDATE----

Will was expecting several things to happen after he punched Ferris in the face. First, she would stagger back from the blow, opening her up for a knee to the chin. If she was still moving after that, he could easily pin her to the ground at which point it would be fairly easy to subdue her while Lara found something to restrain this terror of a woman.

In short, he was expecting Ferris to take the punch like a normal person, and like not concrete wall.

Will froze as the woman glared at him with the eye that did not currently a fist jammed into it, her face twisting into a grimace that showed off all of her long, shark-like teeth.

"Oh sh-"

He didn't get a chance to finish his exclamation when Ferris made her move. Her hand lashed out, gripping his arm tightly as her face contorted in rage. Will cried out as she wrenched his fist out of her face, a red bruise already forming around her left eye. She then grabbed his head with her other hand and slammed it against the table, locking his arm behind him to keep him firmly fixed against the metal surface. She tightened her grip on Will's arm as he thrashed about beneath her in a futile attempt to escape.

"Wrong move, " Ferris hissed as she leaned up against him. Normally, the sensation of breasts pressing up against his back would have aroused him, especially when they were as large as hers. That wasn't the case in this situation. In fact, he felt a strange dullness settling in all over his body.

"Let me guess," Ferris said, "you don't remember being a lanky son of bitch named Wilson, do you?"

"I have no idea what the fuck you're talking about." Wilson said. He was finding it a lot easier to focus on the face of the woman pinning him to the table than her mountainous cleavage. He noted off hand that, while the bruise he’d given her was still expanding, her left eye didn’t appear to be swollen in the slightest.

"Typical," Ferris sneered, twisting her head back at the young woman cowering on the couch, her knees drawn up against her chest as she silently wept in fear. "You don't remember being the poster boy for frat life," she shifted her focus back onto the man she had pinned against the table, "and you don't remember being an insufferable slacker. There was no pain as you changed, no fear when you're body turned against itself. As far as you two idiots can tell, you've always been this way."

"Are you going somewhere with this?" Will said, "My arm's starting to go numb."

"The point," She continued, her voice slowly rising "is that you didn't suffer while I did. In fact, you look like you got the best deal out of all of us, and I can't tell you just how much that pissed me off!"

Ferris punctuated her tirade by squeezing the appendage she'd latched onto with all of her might. She was expecting Will to cry out, for his fingers to twitch against his will as the nerves in his wrist reached their breaking point. She wasn't expecting for his wrist to give out a loud crunching sound as it hardened in her grip.

A single word resounded in the minds of the room’s three inhabitants.

What.

Will used his captor’s momentary confusion as a chance to slip out from underneath her. It wasn't too hard, seeing as she was now clutching her own hand. Will quickly examined his arm, and had to fight the urge to gasp in shock at what he saw.

The indents on his wrist where Ferris had been squeezing him were the least of his worries. The skin around the area was now hard and had a metallic sheen. Sparks of purple energy danced up and down his arm as the rest of his lower arm began to shift from flesh into bronze.

He turned to Lara, who’d raised a hand up to her mouth as she gazed on in slack jawed horror, and then to Ferris, who was caught somewhere between shock and satisfaction.

“What did you do to me?” Will said, his voice cracking in fear. His lower arm resembled a bronze gauntlet now, and his upper arm was thinning out drastically as it compacted into a pair of black metal rods that curved into his torso. The definition that he’d gained not moments before was atrophying at an astonishing rate, giving him a terrifyingly gaunt appearance.

Ferris didn’t reply, as she was busy dealing with a sudden and splitting headache. She could feel it as something began to sift through her jumbled mess of memories once more. Complex military tactics poured into her head as new memories were spliced in to override the old ones, memories of growing up in an domed city that wished to be an empire, of a young girl’s burning desire to see that empire rise from the waves that had buried it centuries long ago.

She remembered her excitement when she’d been the first woman to be accepted into the ranks of the Steamflex corps and the countless hours that had followed as she mastered the art of piloting the famed exoskeletons. But most of all, she remembered the pride that had swelled within her sizable chest when she’d was named general in recognition for the critical roll she’d played in quelling the Foggernaut uprising. She didn’t notice herself growing a decade older as her body aged to match the new timeline, let alone the fact that the mark around her eye was turning a crimson red as it continued to spread out across her left brow.

The changes had reached Will’s shoulder now, transforming it into an immaculately polished bronze pauldrons. His waist imploded in on itself as skin and bone gave way to metal rods similar to those that had taken the place of his upper arms and lower legs. Bronze plates curved outwards in the semblance of thighs as his lower torso became a complex mechanism surrounding a tube of purple energy. His screams were cut off as his mouth fused shut into a small grill and his lungs were replaced by gears. Plates similar to those that had replaced his knees and thighs enveloped his upper body, curving out in a manner similar to a popped collar around the metal contraption that had once been his neck. Glowing purple portholes appeared on the various plates that now made up the bulk of his body as his head was reduced to a polished skull of iron and bronze. It was then, and only then, did his changes finally come to a close.

The occupants of the room were all silent for a long moment. Lara was practically catatonic as this stage, while Will held his eyes firmly shut, trying to convince himself that this was all some sort of nightmare. Ferris, on the other hand, was clutching her head as the last fragments of her old life painfully vanished from her mind, taking with it her old name. Any fit of panic she may have had was tempered by years of military experience, the same experience that helped her subdue her volatile anger, and the same experience that was chastising her for wearing so little in front of her men, figuratively speaking.

“Will?” Lara said pitifully, breaking the silence. She suppressed a gasp as the construct that had once been flesh turned and looked at her, its mechanical eyes twisting as they fixed on her.

That broke the taller woman out of her reverie. She looked at the two figures staring mournfully at each other, and fought the urge to gag.

Now, most people would need to shout in order to break others other of their thoughts, but not this woman. All she had to do was cough.

Lara and Will’s heads whipped around so quickly that they may as well have gotten whiplash, or at that would have been the case for the former. The latter would probably need to get their neck tightened.

“At attention,” the woman said dryly. Her voice was huskier than before, and carried a certain weight that came with years of ordering others around.

The room’s other occupants immediately jumped to attention, their eyes filled with worry and fear.

“Remind me Engineer Lara,” the woman began, “what is official policy regarding fraternization within the ranks?”

“Interpersonal relationships are strictly forbidden between ranking male and female officers,” Lara responded instinctively, her mind supplying her with knowledge she didn’t know she had.

“Very good, Lara,” the taller woman said before turning her attention to the construct standing in front of her. The fact that she could look down upon it appealed to her for some reason.

“And what is the first rule aboard my vessel,” She paused for a second to fish out a name, “Ensign Wallonia”

“You’re the boss” the newly named Wallonia replied in a bubbly, if heavily filtered, voice. The design of her bronze face shifted shifted every so slightly, becoming more feminine.

“Correct,” the woman smirked casually before grabbing the two soldiers standing before her by their collars and hefting them off the ground.
“Now listen to me very carefully,” She snarled, “I don’t care about whatever twisted fetishes or suck kinks you’re into, so long as you indulge in them when you’re not supposed to be doing your job. When you are on duty on my ship, you are turned off. Am I Clear?”

The two soldiers nodded vigorously.

“Say it,” the woman hissed

“Yes General,” They said synchronously.

The General twisted her ear. The question when unasked, but was answered immediately nonetheless.

“Yes General Mofette” They repeated at the top of their lungs.

“Good.”

And with that, General Frida Mofette of New Sufokia dropped the soldier and the ensign to the ground. The mark surrounding her eye coalesced into a crimson wing, the meaning of which had been the subject of just about as many discussions as her cup size.

“How much longer until the repairs are done?” Frida asked, her hands crossed behind her back.

“It’ll probably take another day, ma’am,” Lara replied, “Maybe two. ”

“You have until tomorrow morning,” Frida said calmly

“But…” Lara started.

The General glared.

“Yes ma’am” she replied hurriedly as she all but sprinted towards the hatch, buttoning up her jacket along the way.

“And take Wallonia with you,” Frida added, “Use her for spare parts if you need to. You don’t mind, do you Foggernaut?”

“Not at all ma’am,” Wallonia responded quickly, bolting after the young engineer.

Frida watched in amusement as they tried to beat the other in a mad dash to get to the engine room. Once they were out of sight, she walked over to the table, allowing her buxom body to sway underneath her instead of actively suppressing is movements as she normally did. There were pros and cons to having curves like hers, and constant swaying was one of them. She grabbed the six-pack she’d spotted earlier, then made her way over to the couch, taking a moment to wipe it down with the coat that the two deviants downstairs must have been using in their foreplay.

“Technophiles,” she muttered, tossing the coat onto one of the chairs before settling down on the couch she’d had installed. After all, if the Commander of New Sufokia’s armed forces wanted to spend a month personally overseeing a Stasili reconnaissance mission, then she could also search for the precious mineral in comfortably.

She smiled as she heard the sounds of the soldiers below shouting as they frantically worked on getting the disguised ship’s engines back up and running. A tiny, infinitesimal part of her was strangely ecstatic at this, but she dismissed it as part of the usual buzz that came with a job well done.

And by the King, did she love her job.

---FIN---

Final length rests at 25 pages, 12,800 words. Not bad, if I do say so myself. I'll be posting a complete version as a final post shortly.

[Rubilax]

Under The General's Command

Ferris had a hard time saying no. By the end of high school, he had written reports for nearly all of his classmates, gone to all of the fundraiser events, and had even participated in an ill-fated marathon that had gone viral for its use of feathers and grease. Despite making a resolution to not let it get the better of him, this tendency had followed him right into university. 'Just ask Ferris' had become something a meme on his campus.

'Need a ride home? Just ask Ferris.'

'Need some money for a few beers? Just ask Ferris.'

'Want to buy a party boat, but don't have the money or know how to actually take care of one? You know who to ask..'

The last one was the reason why he was at an old harbor in the middle of a downpour with soaking duffel bags and the irritated duo who had convinced him help them in their endeavor.

"So where's our boat again?" Wilson asked. He was a grubby looking 19 year old with blonde dreadlocks and a wiry frame made him seem taller than he actually was.

"Lot 12," Ferris replied, consulting the drenched piece of paper he held in one hand, "Which should be right over..."

He turned to his left.

"...Here," he finished, unable to mask his disappointment.

"Are you fucking kidding me," said Larry, an enormously tall, shaven headed 20 year old with biceps the size of bowling balls, "I spent two grand on that piece of crap?"

The 'piece of crap' in question was derelict that vaguely resembled a small fish trawler. Its windows were grey with dust and whatever paint that had decorated had been eaten by the weather long ago. The bow of the boat was a misshapen lump of rubber, while the railing that encircle the stern was rusted to the point of disintegration.

"What did you expect, a powerboat?" Ferris said.

"Something that didn't look it was ready for the scrap yard," Larry said, "Seriously, how is this thing still floating?"

"It ain't," Wilson answered as he pointed to the keel of the boat. Sure enough, the boat sat heavily on the sandbank.

Ferris rubbed his temples. He knew should have had a look at it first before buying it, but the sleazy old Shriner who had sold it to him had managed to convince him otherwise.

"Well, " he said, fishing a key out of his pocket, "Let's go have a look."

"You're joking right?" Larry scoffed, "That thing probably full of rats and shit."

"I didn't think that you were scared of rats," Wilson smirked.

"I ain't afraid of rats," Larry shot back, "I just don't want to walk into a nest of them is all."

"We came all the way out here on a friday night," Wilson replied, "We might as well check it out and dry off before we get our money."

Ferris wanted to say that the previous owner had a strict no refunds policy, but decided to keep that bit of info to himself. It was his fault, in a way, that they were in this situation. Now he would probably have to pay them back even though he had dumped nearly all of his money into this endeavor at their behest.

You could have just said no, Ferris mentally chided himself as he gingerly set foot on the deck.

----

The door was rusted shut, so it took Ferris a few minutes to pry it open. When the hinges eventually gave way to the scrawny 19 year old's unimpressive strength, he was shoved to the side as Wilson and Larry rushed in, desperate to get out of the rain.

The inside of the trawler was surprisingly tidy. The walls were still white and the wooden floor wasn't rotten like the outside deck. A map was neatly laid out nearly on the table next to a half-eaten sandwich that had more mold than bread and a boating manual that was outdated fifty years ago. The yellow glow that filled the room when Ferris flicked the switch confirmed that, despite their immense age, the light bulbs were still functional. It was as if they had just walked into a naval crypt, or at least an abandoned set for a maritime horror movie.

"Holy shit, It smells worse than your bathroom!" Larry said, gagging on the stagnant air, "When was the last time someone opened a window in here?"

"Forget the window," Wilson said, shaking the water out of his hair, "How long do you think that sandwich has been there?"

"Too long," Ferris muttered as he wedged his duffel bag through narrow door frame, "So do you..."

"Dude, check out these coats!" Wilson exclaimed, opening one of the closets that lined the room, "They must be ancient!"

"Older than that fossilized sandwich?" Larry asked, searching the cupboards for a trashcan.

"Guys..." Ferris tried to interject, but his comment went unnoticed.

"Who fuckin' knows," Wilson continued as he donned one of the brown coats, "I'm surprised they don't have holes in them.

Ferris sighed. This wasn't going anywhere.

"I'm going to check out the hull," he said, taking out a small flashlight from his pocket as he opened the hatch to the ladder that led down into the heart of the ship, "I'll be downstairs if you need me."

His words went unnoticed as the two frat boys continued to explore the cabin. Hoping to drown out their loud idle chatter, he closed the hatch behind him.

----

The hull of the boat was a mess, just as Ferris had expected. It took him a moment to realize that the structure that dominated the room was all the remained of the engine. The walls and surfaces had been turned black by grease and age. The air was humid, stale and smelt vaguely of old gasoline while the metal floor was pocketed with small puddles of what he hoped was water.

"Well, let's see the damage," Ferris muttered, scratching the stubble on his chin as he checked over the remains of the trawler's engine.

A few minutes of investigation revealed that there weren't any holes in the hull, which meant that the boat was technically seaworthy. The engine, on the other hand, was another matter entirely. The parts that hasn't been reduced to a rusty web of scrap were outdated by at least 40 years. Needless to say, the entire machine needed to be replaced if this ship was to move again, which meant spending even more of his own money on something was only his on paper. After all, the whole boat idea wasn't his own, but rather that of the two frat boys who were currently enjoying themselves one floor above him. They'd just dragged him into their venture because they needed his money. Thinking back, he couldn't even remember why he agreed to help them with their plan in the first place.

At that moment something caught his eye. It was a splotch of purple amongst the sea of black that covered the wall. He wasn't sure whether it was the lighting or the color of the paint, but it almost seemed to glow in the darkness. Curious, Ferris walked up to it and brushed away the grime surrounding it with his sleeve.

Underneath the grease was a strange purple painting. Though it was faded in some part, the stylized squid was still perfectly visible. The single eye in the center of the painting was its most interesting feature; Despite having spent who knows how many years covered in grime, it seemed as if it had been painted only hours before.

"What's this doing here," Ferris muttered under his breath, running his free hand over the design.

Click.

----

"What happened to Ferris?" Larry asked. He had one of the coats Wilson had found draped over his broad shoulders like a cape.

"I dunno," Wilson replied, opening up his backpack and pulling out a six pack of cheap beer. He too was wearing one of the jackets, one that had apparently been tailor fitted for someone as tall and slender as he was. "And I don't care. Want a drink?"

"Hell yeah!" Larry smiled. He easily caught the can that his friend tossed him as sat down in one of the three plastic chairs that encircled the central table. The manual, map and plate clattered to the floor with a single swipe of his thick hands.

----

"The hell?" Ferris said as he investigated the panel that had just popped out of the wall to reveal a hidden chamber in the bowels of the vessel. He cast his flashlight into the space, and gaped when he saw what it contained. The room was something out a steampunk fantasy, with gleaming brass walls and hard wood floors. A queen sized bed adorned with bronze accents took up a good chunk of the room, leaving just enough room for the rest of the furniture.

It was the exact opposite of what he was expecting to find in a derelict tugboat.

Ferris stepped into this strange room, running his index finger over the wooden desk that just off to the side of the door.

"No dust," he muttered, rubbing his index and thumb together. He quickly flipped through the paper piled on the desk, but found that they were empty. The books weren't of much use either as they were written in what Ferris could only guess was a bastard child of French and Arabic. The inkwell was empty, as was the fountain pen that lay next to it. Directly across from the desk sat the bed, and next to that stood a tall wooden cabinet. There wasn't anything special about it that set it apart from the rest of the objects in the room, and yet Ferris found himself inexplicably drawn towards it.

Just a quick peak, the student told himself as he reached for the brass handle, then I'll go back up.

----

Somewhere in the depths of the trawler, a bright light sputtered on, bathing the hull of the ship in a bright, purple glow. Without so much as a sound, the ancient metal began to twist and bend as if it was being molded by some unseen force. Flakes of rust rained down from the machinery as the murky water was slowly drained from the trawler's hull.

----

The inside of the cabinet was, like the rest of the cabin, simple and orderly. Half a dozen identical pairs of knee-high black boots sat patiently underneath just as many pairs of black parachute pants and navy blue coats with billowing sleeves that hung from the top of the cabinet. Thick, white stripes delineated the collar and hem of the shirt and a simple badge consisting of two upward-pointing arrows rested on the right breast. Brass buttons held the entire thing together, though Ferris could also make out the outlines of smaller ones hidden in neckline and collar. A brass belt as wide as his palm and a long, black cape hung from hooks imbedded into the cabinet's doors. The ensemble of clothes reminded Ferris of a naval officer's uniform, all prim and proper. But what really stood out to him was how well preserved it all was. Each and every one of the articles of clothing looked as if it had been pressed and cleaned that very morning.

Ferris was too caught up in his investigation to notice the tiny sparks of purple energy that were crackling their way towards the glass oval embedded in the ceiling. A second later, the oval flashed on, blinding the college student as it bathed the room in light.

"Gah!" He exclaimed, nearly jumping out of his skin as pins and needles erupted across it. The sparse coating of body hair that he had spent the past six years cultivating sizzled into nothing under the light's blinding gaze.

A pressure built up behind eyes as they tried to adjust to the light. Ferris dropped his flashlight, shielding his eyes they pushed against their sockets, forcing them to grow in size and shift in slant to match the changing orbs. His irises contracted painfully as melanin was drained out of them, replacing chocolate brown with blue steel.

"Jeezus," Ferris hissed as he opened his new eyes, "What was that about?"

----

"That was weird" Wilson said as he sat down at the table beside his bald friend.

"What's the matter?" Larry asked, rubbing a speck of dirt out of his darkening eyes.

"The lights," Wilson answered, "did they just get a bit brighter?"

"Maybe," Larry replied, taking a swig of his beer, "Why, is there something wrong?"

"Not really," Wilson sighed, "It's just that... I could of sworn that you were hairy a minute ago."

"Naw man" Larry chuckled, "I like my body to match my head."

"Speaking of which, you should probably shave it again," Wilson said, "You've got quite the buzz cut going on there."

"Actually, I've been thinking that I should grow it out," Larry said, rubbing the straight, brown fuzz that crowned his head, "You know, for the ladies."

"Chicks dig long hair," Wilson smirked, motioning to the slowly receding blonde mop that sat on his head.

----

Ferris's new eyes had barely adjusted to the light before a strand of light brown hair fell upon them. He brushed it away, only for several more to take its place.

Wait a sec, he thought as he recognized the locks of hair. Slowly, he reached up to the top of his head and pulled. Without so much as a snag, a handful of hair came out. His eyes widened as he shakily stared at the fuzzy bushel. Ferris let go of the hair and frantically searched his pockets, causing more hair to fall from his head.

"Fuck!" He spat as his search proved fruitless, "I must've left it in the car." Scowling, he scanned the room as his hair continued to decorate the floor. It only took him couple of second to find what he was looking for, tucked away just out of sight. Ferris leaped toward the full-length mirror in a flash, leaving a trail of hair behind him. About midway through his jump, he realized that he had forgotten about the chair that sat in between him and his destination. His foot caught the seat of the chair. Ferris flailed as he flipped forwards and hit the hardwood floor face first.

----

"Did you hear that?" Larry asked, flicking a lock of light brown hair off of his face.

"The thud, right?" Wilson replied as scratched at his military-style buzz cut.

"Yeah," Larry said, turning his head towards the door that led to the tugboat's engine room.

"Hey Ferris," He shouted, "What's going on down there?"

The long-haired man waited a moment for a response, but there was none.

"He probably can't hear you from all the way over here," Wilson suggested.

"I think you're right," Larry sighed, putting his beer down as he pushed himself off the chair, "Might need to get a little closer."

"You do that," Wilson said, settling a little further back into his chair. As his friend made his over to the ladder, Wilson noticed that there was something off about the way Larry was walking, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. It was as if there was a certain sway to his step that hadn't been there before.

Must be the beer, Wilson thought as sipped from his can.

----

"Son of a bitch," Ferris moaned. He slowly got up, nursing his jaw in one hand as he used the offending chair as a support. It didn't feel like he'd fractured anything, but it was sore nonetheless. He hadn't split his lip or broken his nose, so that was a plus.

And it looks like my hair's stopped falling out, he thought as he carefully tugged at a few strands of hair to find that them securely fixed to his scalp. Had he been paying closer attention, Ferris may have found it strange that his hair was trickling past his ears like black licorice.

A new development distracted Ferris before he could notice that his hair was now darker and longer than it had ever been. He hissed as an unbearable pressure suddenly built up behind his front teeth. They felt inflamed and strained, as if some demented dentist was assaulting his mouth with a set of industrial-grade pliers. Ferris opened his mouth and was about to reach in to find the source of the pain when the pressure peaked and released four sharp things into his hand. His expression turned into one of horror when he realized what the bloody objects that had popped out of his mouth were.

Ferris squeaked, letting his teeth fall to the floor. His mind raced to find an explanation, any explanation, for what was happening to him.

Radiation, he thought as he began to hyperventilate, this whole room must be irradiated. That's why I'm losing hair and teeth. That must be why this boat was so cheap. I have to get out of here. I have to get out now!

But before he could so much as make a step towards the exit, the reverberation in his face intensified. Ferris fell to the floor, crying out in pain as his bones began to shift under his skin. He was too busy screaming to notice that the door as it slammed itself shut.

----

The rusted machinery that sat in the hull of the boat was gone, and in its place sat something that was out of steampunk fantasy. Faint beams of light filtered in through the portholes that had materialized in the front and sides of the ship. Tubes snaked their way around brass gears and pistons, which appeared to be ready to move at a moments notice. At the heart of the engine sat a strange, reactor-like furnace that burned with untapped power. The interior of the hull had changed to match the engines, as what had once been dark, damp and rusted was now illuminated, dry and gleaming. The secret panel Ferris had found was been replaced by a hatch, and the grimy emblem was now pristine and proudly displayed in the dead center of the metal door. Even the ladder appeared new and freshly painted

Purple sparks danced around the edges of the room, putting the finishing touches to the brass trimming as they began to repair the other broken, rusted, and otherwise rotted portions of the vessel.

----

If Larry had been paying close enough attention, he may have been able to make out the cries for help before they were shut out by the thickening hull of the ship. Unfortunately for Ferris, the over-muscular frat boy hadn't been listening , so the irony of his efforts were lost on him.

As he reached down towards the hatch, he paused push back his long, wavy hair back over his shoulders. I should cut it someday soon, He thought to himself, it might stop all those weird looks I keep on getting at the gym. There was a slight ripple across his body at this thought, but it went unnoticed.

"Need a hand?" Wilson offered.

"Nah man," Larry replied, stretching his arms out to the side. He ignored the faint sensations that were sinking into his expansive muscles as he grasped the hatch's handle in both hands. Just as he was about to rip the hatch open, he was overcome by a sudden weakness, as if all the strength in his body was being sapped out by some unknown force. If he had been paying more attention to his body, he may have noticed that his rock hard abs and bowling-ball biceps were melting away into smooth flab. His legs and back lost almost all of their definition and his neck thinned dramatically. Within seconds the evidence of countless afternoons spent in the gym were wiped from his body and his mind. Wilson's eyes glazed over for a moment, which was just enough time to prevent him from seeing his friend suddenly swell up in size before deflating. Larry lost new-found fat at a rate that would make dieticians foam at the mouth. His clothes, which had been struggling mere moments ago to contain his girth, shrunk down just as quickly to accommodate Larry's new build.

Of course, neither of the two young men in the room noticed this. After all, what was there to notice? Larry had always been the sort of person who refused to go the gym no matter how much his friends and family tried to coax him otherwise. Any "unnecessary exercise" was, in his opinion, to be avoided like the plague. Plus, it took away from time he could be spending getting plastered.

Ignorant of the fact that he had lost well over half of his body weight, Larry pulled on the hatch. When it refused to budge, he pulled harder, straining his increasingly scrawny arms. After a few, fruitless seconds, he gave up.

"It's not moving," a red-faced Larry said, "Ferris must've locked it on his way down."

"Or maybe you're just too weak to open it?" Wilson asked smugly.

"What, you don't believe me?" Larry huffed as he stepped away from the hatch, "be my guest."

"Relax dude," Wilson chuckled, "I'll take your word for it. 'Sides, if Ferris wants to be left alone, so be it."

----

Ferris cringed as his cheekbones popped outwards. He would be gritting his teeth to cope with the unbearable pain of his skull being crushed inwards if they weren't currently strewn across the hardwood floor. His nose broke several times over as it crunched in on itself while his ears yanked themselves into a small pair of points. He could feel his skin growing taut as it struggled to keep up with the widening of his jaw. His chin narrowed dramatically, sending him reeling back into a corner as if some invisible foe had given Ferris the uppercut of his life. The young man's gums were sliced as a new set of teeth that erupted with volcanic furor, filling his mouth with the taste of blood and calcium.

The bone rending pain burned his throat as it shot through his spine and into the rest of his body. His rib cage tightened like a claw around his organs, squishing them together while his shoulders cracked inwards to match. His hands and feet fractured in a thousand different places as they folded in on themselves. His legs were ripped out from beneath him and savagely stretched to new lengths. Ferris screamed as his spine was reeled inwards, stripping him of any height that his reformed legs had given him. He wanted to pass out from the pain, to sleep until it was all over, but the force that was reshaping his bones refused to give him that mercy. Pressure began to build in his pelvis, filling it with an unbearable tightness. Just when it seemed as if his pelvis would shatter itself, his hips snapped outwards with such force that he thought they would rip through the skin.

Then, just as suddenly as it had started, the pain stopped. Ferris slowly unfurled from fetal position, still sobbing from the pain. When he managed to collect his sense, he pulled himself back up using the wall as a support. As he wiped the tears from his cheeks with a quivering hand, he realized that the contours of his face were all wrong. Ever so slowly, he turned to look at himself in the mirror that was now an arms length away. The fearful, tear-stained face that looked back at him was as round as it was wide. The cheekbones were almost imperceptible as they blended right into full cheeks and a soft jawline that ended in a small, triangular chin. A narrow upturned nose sat above a pair of thick, pert lips. The steel blue orbs that dominated the visage were topped with a pair of thin eyebrows that curved upwards into a look of perpetual disinterest. A bob cut brushed to the right surrounded the face like jagged ebony, concealing the ever-so slight point of his ears. It was a pretty, albeit stern, face, the sort that Ferris might have asked out if it wasn't his own.

On top of no longer being able to recognize his own face in the mirror, there was something off about his body. His clothing, which had once fit him perfectly, now appeared ill-proportioned. His simple, white t-shirt looked strange on him, as if he had borrowed them off of a larger, fatter friend. His jeans seemed at once too big and too small for him, as they clung tightly to his hips but hung loosely off his legs. His hands were barely visible in the folds of his now-oversized hoodie, and his shoes and socks were far too big for his feet.

"What the hell," he whispered, before grabbing his flat(!) throat with his now feminine hands. They may have his words, but the voice that had spoken them was too high pitched, too husky to have been his own.

"Hello, Hello," Ferris said, testing his new vocal cords, "My name is Ferris and I have a huge cock." He shuddered at that last sentence. The words sounded wrong coming out of his mouth, but they only confirmed that this mature, feminine voice was now his.

As he continued to examine his new features, he noticed that something off about teeth. He flashed them at the mirror and recoiled in shock. His canines and incisors had been replaced by massive, pointed things that would have been more at home in the jaws of a great white shark than those of a human. On a whim, Ferris ran his tongue over them, and the warm taste of blood filled his mouth.

"Well shit" He grumbled bitterly as he spat a small glob of saliva and blood, "Wasn't that a surprise."

----

As he was walking back to his chair, Larry was overcome with vertigo. He stumbled for a moment, but managed to catch himself before he could fall over

"What's wrong?" Wilson asked, leaving his can of beer behind as he came to his friend's aid.

"It's nothing man," Larry quickly replied, before coughing into his sleeve. "I'm just feeling a... a little lightheaded is all." Neither of the two men in the cabin found it strange that Larry's deep and husky voice had become soft and sweet, after all, why should they? Larry had always been a soprano rather than a baritone.

"Are you sure about that?" Wilson asked, tapping one of his friend's now-narrow shoulders.

For the first time in his life, Larry had to look up, way up, instead of down to see Wilson's face. As he did, Wilson was struck by the softness of his friend's face. How had he never noticed those warm eyes, or the those round cheekbones?

"Y-yes," Larry replied, his cheeks flush as he suddenly noticed just how tall his friend was. It seemed a bit odd at first, after all, he was 6'4". He should have had towered over Wilson, not the other way around. But no, that wasn't right. Larry had been a lowly 5'2" ever since the 5th grade, which meant that there was nothing weird about having to crane his neck just to see his friend's face. Looking at Wilson that stirred something inside of Larry, as if he was looking at his friend for the first time. A warmth began to build up in his groin, one that was at once familiar and radically different. It was like an inverted erection, going down and in instead of up and out. Larry shuddered for a moment as a sudden rush of ecstasy flowed through him, rewiring his body and his mind. He hardly felt it as the source of his masculine pride was drawn into his body, leaving a pair of fleshy folds in its wake.

As this was happening, Wilson was struck by the memory of the moment when he and Larry had first met; It was Frosh week. Wilson, fresh out of high school and having been abandoned by his friends, decided to go to one of the many frat parties taking place on campus. Right outside one of the Frat houses, he had accidentally bumped into a veritable mountain of muscle who later introduced himself as...

That last scene replayed itself in Wilson's mind, only this time the mountain was gone, replaced by a petite figure who had introduced himself, no, herself, as...

"Wilson?" a melodic voice inquired, interrupting his flashback. Something clicked at the back of his mind when he looked at the adorable face in front of him.

"What is it?" He replied.

"You zoned out there," the woman asked, "is everything alright?"

"Just a little headache is all," Wilson said, rubbing his temples as tried to find the missing piece of his memory. He didn't notice that the woman next to him was facing a similar dilemma, but was doing a much better job of hiding it from her... friend was it?

How had they met again exactly? She remembered a night, just over a year ago, at Phi Kappa house. She'd been there with her brot-sisters looking for recruits for their Fr-Sororiety when she'd spotted an aimless Frosh trying to get in... But then her mind went blank. What else had happened that night? Or ones that followed it?

----

As his two 'friends' were rediscovering themselves, Ferris was trying to come to terms with his own changes. He tried to leave the room, only to find that the door was locked shut. Panic seized his face as he pushed and pulled on handle, but to no avail. He raised his fist and was about to start banging on the door and cry out for help when he stopped. The fist came unclenched as his arms fells to his sides. His shoulders slumped over as Ferris's fear gave way to resignation. With a loud sigh, the altered student walked over to the bed, and collapsed onto the soft sheets. He spread out his arms and legs, listening to the sound of his heart pumping blood into his ears as he stared blankly up at the bronze ceiling.

Ever since he'd been woken up that morning to the sound of Larry leaving dents in his door, his entire day had just gone from bad to worse. It wasn't enough that he hadn't gotten to bed until four in the morning waiting for the man who had sold him the boat to drop off the keys, that his parent's had just cut off his funding, or the fact that he had received a call from a lawyer on the way over here claiming that he'd pirated over four dozen movies in three days, and that he was expected in court in a week. No, apparently Ferris also needed to get locked up in the hull of a derelict ship to have his skeleton and face re-arranged.

"What did I do to deserve this?" Ferris mumbled,

An oppressive silence answered his question.

"Is this what I get for being generous? For being a nice person?" He said, a bit louder this time.

"All I've done, all I've ever done is help people. Charities, loans, projects, essays... When someone asks me to do something, I just do it. I don't ask for a reward or payment, because good people do things because its the nice thing to do. But instead of being treated nicely, I get shit on. People just take and take and take and I just give." The last word wasn't so much spoken as it was spat.

"What's a nice guy like me gotta do to have something go his way for once? huh? Because I've spent my entire life doing everything for anyone who asks, and somehow I'm the one who has to deal with this shit. I let a friend use my computer for the weekend, and I get slapped with the lawsuits. I help a drunk girl home, and suddenly I'm a the perverted rapist. I buy a goddamned boat for two guys I barely know, and I lose my freaking face. How is that fair? Just how the fuck is any of this fair?" Ferris shouted, squeezing the folds of the sheets so tightly that his knuckles turned white. He lay there for a moment, letting the silent wash over him as he fumed over every single moment in his life where he'd been taken advantage of, where he'd been punished for some one else crime.

"You know what? I'm done," He snarled, "If this is how good people get treated, then I'm through with being nice and friendly. And most importantly, I'm done with you, so why don't you go and fu-uuh!"

Ferris's tirade was cut off as a wave of erotic pleasure rippled across his body. A slight tinge of pain marred the feeling slightly as his rising cock struggled against the front of his jeans. He reached down, his hands trembling as he fumbled with the button that held the crotch together. The moment he managed to undo the button and unzip the pants was one of agonizing bliss as the raging erection, freed from its denim confines, rocket up and out of his boxers. He closed his eyes in rapture, imagining that the moans were not his own, but rather those of an unbearably sexy woman, the kind that he'd never been able to get his hands on.

It crossed his mind for a moment that this had been the closest he'd ever gotten to a woman, but he shrugged that thought off as it made no sense whatsoever. Aside for the voice and face, Ferris was a man, anatomically speaking. To think, even for a second, that this was the closest thing to sex that he'd ever experienced was complete lunacy.

Ferris's train of thought came screeching to a halt as his ball sack suddenly tightened around its contents. He screamed in agony as his balls twisted themselves closer and closer to his body. He reached down to untangle them as they continued to pressed against his pelvis, the pressure mounting higher and higher until...

Schrop

With a hollow, wet sound, Ferris's testicles tore their way into his body. He ground his teeth together as he felt his ballsack split open, allowing the errant genitals to drill their way deeper and deeper into his pelvis. He felt them split from one another and curve outwards, leaving fleshy tunnels behind them before they finally came to a rest somewhere deep in his core. A warm flash interrupted his agony, giving the student a chance to feel his testicles shift inside of him, changing into something was wholly different before vanishing from his senses all together. But Before he could muse on what had just happened, his attention was drawn by the developments occurring outside of his body.

His cock flailed painfully from side to side as muscles formed in the slit that now sat beneath it, a slit that was growing wider and fleshier by the second. He tried to steady the wild organ, only for his hand to spasm at the last possible moment, causing him to squeeze it with all the strength in his feminine hands. Ferris screamed as his cock compressed under the stress. The tense muscles that had been keeping his cock from joining its comrades melted as the last bastion of his masculinity slipped from his grasp and was drawn into the feminine folds below.

----

The more Lara tried to make sense of her jumbled memories, the clearer her thoughts became. Her mind felt sharper, making more connections at a faster rate than she'd ever been able to. The reading that she'd been struggling with yesterday was making a lot more sense, and she was feeling a lot more confidant about the project she'd handed in just a week ago. What class had that been for again? It couldn't have been for that remedial calculus class she was only taking to fulfill her requirements, Right?

A light bulb went off, and Lara just barely resisted the urge to slap her forehead at the preposterous idea that she'd been in such a low-level course. Remedial calculus? Please. She could solve differential equations in her sleep. No, that project had been for her advanced dluid dynamics course to make up for having missed her mid terms on the account of recovering from a three day bender with her... Sorority? But that didn't make sense. She hadn't gotten into the sorority. She'd never even tried to get in, and the thought hadn't even crossed her mind until her floor mates had proposed the idea to her, even if she didn't have the right figure for it.

Lara's shoulders slumped slightly as the brash spark of arrogance that had once defined her was extinguished. She looked down at her practically flat chest and sighed. Curves just weren't in her genes. That's why she'd never kissed a boy before coming to university. Heck, she'd never been remotely close to anyone of the opposite sex until she'd met Wil-l. She unconsciously shifted a bit closer to the tall, rugged figure next to her as she thought back to that chance encounter a little over a year ago.

The library! Will exclaimed mentally as he remembered where he'd first met Lara. He'd been struggling with some calc work when he'd accidentally bumped into the petite woman beside him. She'd had her head down in a book filled with enough equations to make his head spin she tripped over backpack that he'd left sticking a bit too far out from underneath the table. He wasn't exactly sure how the conversation had gone from apologies to her helping him through his homework, let alone how one and a half semesters of impromptu tutor sessions had culminated so , but he frankly didn't care. Lara may have not been the sort of girl he'd have expected himself to go out with, but was infinitely more interesting than any of the girls that had practically thrown themselves at him throughout high school and the first year of university. He looked back at petite woman who, as always, seemed to be lost in her own thoughts.

A devious idea popped into Will's mind, one that he'd had many time before. He slowly reached down across her back, being careful not to alert her of his intentions until it was too late. In a single, fluid motion, Will wrapped his arm around the woman's waist and pulled. Lara jumped a bit as she was pulled from her reverie and into the arms of her lover.

"Will you ever stop doing that?" asked the flustered engineering student.

"I dunno," the rugby player replied with a playful grin, "Will you ever stop looking so cute when you're surprised?"

"You can be so immature sometimes," Lara said as she gave Will a light slap on the arm.

"That doesn't mean it isn't true," Will answered with a tap on the nose.

"You're hopeless," Lara drawled, wrapping her arms around her boyfriend as she pressed herself up against his well defined core. It almost seemed to good to be true; a flat chested, workaholic gear head like her with a cut rugby player like him? It sounded like something out of the bad romance novels that she kept hidden under her mattress. As much as she was happy just enjoying the time she had with him, there was always a nagging doubt at the back of her mind that this was just a brief fling. And though Will had told her that her lack of assets never bugged him, she felt that he wasn't telling the whole true. After all, she'd seen some of his ex-girlfriends during their study sessions, who were adventurous and perky in more ways than one. The fact that she'd managed to be with him for several months longer than any of them was a bit of a surprise, not only to herself, but also to his friends and her own.

Warmth swelled in her chest as Will's hand slid down her waist to caress her hips. She unconsciously rolled them as her lower back snapped inwards, which would have pressed her deeper into her lover's embrace had something not begun to push back. The metabolism that her previous life had given her slowed to a crawl as fatty tissue began to flow down her legs. Her pants split at the calf, revealing increasingly soft flesh that lay beneath it. The bottom half fused her shoes and turned black as they tightened around her sculpted thighs. The seat of her pants seemed to vanish underneath of folds of the blue coat she'd was wearing before they wrapped themselves around her expanding bottom. Lara rolled her hips, causing Will's hand to slip a few inches lower and onto the curves of her perky ass. She offhandedly noted that their embrace felt a lot softer than before. For a moment, it felt as if her chest was straining against her lover's core, so she shifted her posture to the side, allowing the bountiful folds of her chest to flow outwards. She didn't notice it as her center of gravity shifted outwards, let alone notice the increased support as her undershirt wrapped itself around the ever-increasing curves of her bosom. She did, however, feel Will's little friend stiffen up against her pelvis.

"Getting a bit excited are we?" Lara said, reaching up to unbutton his collar.

"Can you blame me?" Will replied coyly, "You make that uniform look good."

A slight frown marred Will's handsome features as he mulled over that last sentence. Uniform? He thought, That can't be right. We're not in uni- the academy any more. Why would Lara be wearing in her uniform? Why should I be wearing my uniform? Aren't we off duty right now?

----

Ferris shot up, spreading her legs apart as the pain faded away once more. Her mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out as she gazed in horror upon her new sex. She grabbed the bed frame to steady herself as she tried to process the latest in the string of changes that had been attacking her for the last dozen or so minutes.

What was happening to her was fairly obvious by this point, the real questions lay in the details. Why, for instance, was this happening? Was the boat the cause behind this, or was there some other force at play. If the former was true, then that opened a whole can of worms about the old man who'd sold her the boat in the first place. Had he been aware of what would happen to her when she entered the cabin? He was a shriner, so was this some perverse ritual?

A muffled thud from above redirected her attention towards the ceiling.

Those two idiots must've knocked something over, She thought bitterly, Now where was I? Oh yes, secret gender-bending conspiracy run by senile old men in fe- Wait.

Ferris stiffened.

I heard that.

Her knuckles turned white as she tightened her grip on the bed frame. The implications of the sound echoed in her mind, conjuring up the specters of memories. One memory in particular stood out.

It was 3rd grade, back when she was still he. Ferris had transferred to new school late in the year due to his dad's promotion, and in three days he'd been there he'd yet to make any friend. He was grabbing his lunch from his locker when he'd been cornered by three older boys. Their faces and names had been blurred by time, but he remembered them asking him to help them out, to share his lunch with them because they didn't have any. Even then Ferris had known it was a lie, but what could he have done about it? As they loomed over him and Ferris sunk deeper and deeper into his locker, the lead boy said something that had resonated in Ferris.

You're a good boy aren't ya?

It was an utterly innocuous phrase, and yet it devastated the younger Ferris because it echoed what his mother and father had always told him to be. Good boys do the right thing. Good boys help others out. Good boys share.

So Ferris did what good boys did, and gave his lunch away. Looking back now, Ferris suddenly saw how that single moment of selflessness, of weakness, had altered his life. Because those three boys had told their friends, who had in turn told their friends and so on, about the new kid who was always willing to give away his lunch, because that was the right thing to do. Over time Ferris's 'generousness' branched out. Giving away his lunch turned to doing homework for others, and lending a few follars here and there led to spending his entire life's savings on a boat. All because he was a good person.

Ferris's head throbbed painfully, and for a moment she felt as if she'd been transported back to that fateful decision. The tall boy loomed over her, wavering in and out of existence as he posed the question.

You're a good boy aren't ya? The boy's voice was as distorted and twisted as the smug grin on his face.

The air around Ferris's right hand seemed to waver as it tightened into a fist.

No.

The taller boy reeled back as he was smacked upside the head. The two other boys were frozen in place as Ferris lunged at their leader, wielding the lunchbox like a multicolored club.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as the lunchbox made contact with the boy's face, pulling Ferris out of the moment and back into the present. Her head throbbed as she tried to make sense of the two different sets of memories pertaining to the same day. In the first, she'd gone home hungry and miserable, but in the second she'd been dragged off the boy's body and to the principal's office. She vividly remembered the spitting match that ensued between her father and the boy's parents as the former was accused of letting his psychopath of a daughter beat up their sweet, innocent bo-.
Hang on a second. Daughter?

Ferris's head throbbed as new memories began to trickle in. She could remember the apprehension that hung in the air on the day she got back from her suspension, and the fearful whispers that followed her every step. Needless to say, the only people who'd dared to cross her after that incident were newcomers to the school, looking to make a name for themselves by taking on the crazy girl who broke a boy's jaw with her lunch box. Her nose shuddered, contorting ever so subtly as the numerous fights she'd gotten into throughout elementary school took their toll.

"This... Isn't... Right..." Ferris said through clenched teeth. A multitude of tiny, practically invisible scars cut their way across her knuckles as she grasped her head in her hands. She could feel her old memories being scrubbed out as the new ones continued to hammer their way into her mind.

Ferris didn't recognize herself in those memories. She saw a thuggish girl who didn't so much lash out at the world as constantly dare it to fight her. That girl wasn't a meek boy who let everyone walk all over him in his attempts at being nice. No, the girl was feared. The girl was respected. The girl was everything Ferris hadn't been, everything he could have been if he hadn't been such an utterly pathetic coward.

Ferris lowered her hands. The throbbing hadn't gone away, if anything, it was worsening by the second. But that didn't bother her any more. No, the more glimpses she got of the girl's life, the angrier she became at the boy she'd been. The old Ferris just coasted through middle school, always trying to please everyone, from his parents to his teachers to his so-called friends. high school hadn't been much better, when he suddenly found himself being pulled in a thousand different directions, to go to this event and that fundraiser and oh, could you also help me with me essay, and by help I mean write the whole damned thing? On top of that he'd been an absolute loner, unable to get a date as he'd been too busy helping everyone with everything to even notice a girl's attention, if any attention was being paid to him at all besides Hey Ferris, did you get my project done?

The girl hadn't been like that. Even when she'd been forced to reign in her violent impulses to avoid getting carted off to a Youth Detention Center, the girl remained a force to be reckoned with. She'd taken up and boxing in middle school, and discovered that her relentless brutality translated well, making her a terrifying hybrid of a slugger and swarmer. Her dedication and success at the combat sport, along with the numerous trophies she'd managed to acquire in a very short span of time, only served to heighten her status as the most dangerous girl to ever stalk the halls. This reputation stuck with her even as she entered high school in all of its tumultuous, hormonal glory. It kept away most of unwanted attention, at least for the first year or so. And then...

Ferris doubled over as she suddenly became aware of the stiff pain jabbing at her stomach. She was all but ripped from her reverie as she slipped off the bed frame and onto to floor.

"Not again," she hissed bitterly, struggling to keep herself from crying out as the stiffness spread downwards, enveloping her legs in its grasp. She hated this feeling, this sensation of not being in control of her own body. It reminded her of when she'd first hit puberty. She'd been significantly later than the other girls, a fact that hadn't gone unnoticed and had been whispered whenever Ferris's back was turned. She chastised her past self for letting those short-sighted bitches get to her with their incessant commentary to the point that she slipped and introduced them to the right hook that had won her the state championships two years running.

She'd been suspended for that, something that she only later realized had been the lead girl's goal; to instigate her, the tempt the shark-toothed maniac. It's been a stupid mistake, one that the old her wouldn't have-.

She slammed the errant thoughts away. The old Ferris had been weak coward, always willing to let other step all over get what they wanted with almost no thoughts as to his own well being. He'd ruined her life by being utterly complacent in everything he did. To think even for a second that a puny excuse for a human being like him, had been better than the girl in any way was madness. He was the one who'd gotten her into this mess in the first place by letting those two brain-dead idiots upstairs push him into spending his entire life savings on a pathetic excuse for a boat that they'd probably wouldn't even use for a month before selling it for booze money. If he'd had even the semblance of backbone, he would have declined, and she wouldn't be stuck down in this damned room having her body warped by who knows what into...

A pair of memories flashed in front of her eyes. In one, a blonde boy smiles smugly as he walked down the hall with his friends, leaving another, smaller boy stranded with an empty lunchbox. In the other, a girl is grinding the smug grin off his face with lunchbox as she delivers a beating that will break him in more ways than one.

... Everything she could have been...

Ferris ground her teeth together, her hands curling into tight fists.

Another flash. In one, A teenaged boy with deep bags under his downcast eyes is jostled down a crowded hallway. In the other, the crowd parts slightly to make way for the teenaged girl striding down it, her steely glare cutting down anyone who would dare to meet her gaze.

...Everything she should have been.

With a herculean effort, she pried her aching body off the ground.

Flash. A young man is hunched over his laptop at 3 am, frantically typing a research paper for a course he's not even taking and won't even be credited for while a party rages just outside his door. A young woman's mouth curls into a predatory grin as prepares to drive her knee into the crotch of the man trying to start a conversation with her chest.

A part of her wanted to cry out in pain. It was pleading with the forces assailing her to stop, to undo what they had done to her body and mind. It wanted to go back to the way thing were, to once again be the Ferris it once was, the selfless young man who'd go out of his way to help anyone who asked out of the kindness of his heart, the boy who'd just wanted to be good.

The rest of her had two words to say about that boy.

Fuck him

And with that, her pituitary gland released a potent mixture of hormones. It only took a heartbeat for the mutagenic cocktail to spread throughout her body, where it promptly sank into her stiff flesh. Her arms and legs grew taut they bulked up with the powerful muscles that came with years of training. Her once flabby abs flared outward for the first time in her life as her back and bottom hardened accordingly. She cracked her neck from side to side as her shoulders rippled with their new found strength, strength that was necessary to support what was soon to come.

If Ferris wasn't as riled up as she was, she may have taken the time to appreciate her new found musculature. But no, Ferris was angry, angrier than she'd ever been in her life. She was angry at the weakling she'd once been, the painful changes that had usurped her body, the room she was standing it for being the apparent cause of said changes. But most of all, she was angry at the two idiots upstairs. The ones who'd talked her into this mess in the first place, who'd have without a doubt heard her cries of anguish earlier, but for whatever reason hadn't thought to come down and see what was the matter.

Drawing upon her newfound power, Ferris stepped forward, her face contorted into grimace of pain and determination. Her steely eyes remained firmly locked on the door as she lurched towards it, dragging her errant body behind her as it continued to change against her will. As her new musculature finished asserting itself, the hormones set to work on her adipose tissue, stimulating the thin layer of fat that she'd acquired over the course of her former life. The tissue responded in short order, producing leptin and estrogen at an exponential rate.

Ferris's focus wavered as she felt her already stiff body become even heavier, as if there was more of her to carry around. She ignored it, even as her newly acquired abs all but disappeared behind a smooth layer of fat. She struggled to contained the urge to sway her hips as the flesh surrounding it became increasingly rounded. Her boxers seemed to grow tighter by the second as her firm ass steadily bloated outwards into a pair of hemispheres, stopping only once they'd stretched her once loose underwear to its breaking point. Miraculously, the boxers managed not to tear at the seams, even as the hard lines of her thighs and calves were lost under a tide of fatty tissue that rushed outwards to meet to seductive curves of her hips and complete the impressive hourglass.

Ferris dutifully resisted the urge to gawk in mortified horror at her backside's new-found roundness and instead altered her gait into a rigid march. It was a trick she'd learned back in high school to minimize the jiggling, and by extension the unwanted attention, that came with her curves as impressive as hers. A couple of girls and boys had accused her of being fat, but the swiftness and power with which she'd twisted their wrists when they tried to 'prove' their accusation were more than enough to show that she was far from out of shape.

Ferris's chest burned as she reached the door. She could feel the flesh in her chest churning as a new set of glands formed within, Her nipples and areola darkened, engorging to at least four times their original size as they brushed up against the fabric of her shirt, sending warm chills up and down her spine. Ferris clenched her teeth together to avoid moaning in pleasure as she twisted the door handle open.

The steampunk wonderland that awaited her on the other side was unexpected to say the least, but the new and increasingly dominant part of her psyche insisted that nothing had changed, that it had always been like this. But then why did she have memories of the hull resembling a set from a bad, maritime horror movie? She shelved this line of questioning for later and redirected her focus on the ladder that lead out of this strange brass chamber into the room above where her 'friends' awaited her. The pair of cones that now pushed against the front of her shirt became more prominent by the second as the throbbing in her chest continued to intensify with each passing step.

She'd made it to her goal when the pressure in her chest became too much to bare. She collapsed up against the ladder, using it as a support as she moaned in pain. Droplets of sweat trickled down her rounded features as the pressure continued to mount relentlessly.

"Oh for fuck's sake," Ferris snarled, "Get it over with already."

As if on cue, the metaphorical dam burst. Her mammary glands didn't so much swell as explode as the fat cells within them multiplied at a staggering rate. Ferris was driven up against the ladder by sheer force as her chest billowed outwards with the force of a tsunami, and had to catch herself from falling face first as her center of gravity skyrocketed. Her t-shirt would've been shredded in an instant had a lingering spark from the hull's metamorphosis not jumped into it, allowing it to just barely keep pace with the rising mountains of flesh. Her back muscles rippled even larger, bulking up to support the increasingly massive weights that now hung from her chest. A custom made bra with almost as many hooks as a small meat locker popped into existence as her bountiful breasts completed their growth.

For a pregnant moment, she just hovered there, staring in awe at her massive bosom as it rose and fell with each breath. Impressive didn't even begin to describe the bountiful cleavage. Though the memories of her old life were fading fast, she knew that the old Ferris had never seen breasts like these before, either in real life or in on the covers of grocery store tabloids. The same went for those of her new life, where from the 11th grade onwards she'd needed to start having her bras custom made. Stuttering accusations of implants and hormones aside, having breasts that were nearly the size of your own head weren't quite as useful as one would imagine. On the one hand, they'd been the reason why she ended up having to retire from competitive boxing, not just because they were a hindrance but also they were considered "too distracting". On the other hand, infinite free drinks and an excuse to squeeze wrists until grown men cried 'uncle'.

A small, nagging part of her wanted to fondle the massive pair of breasts whose only close comparison in terms of size were animated shows that you watched with the door locked and the windows drawn, but she mentally slapped it aside. There were more pressing matters at hand then pleasing the last remnants of her masculinity, most notably the two idiots upstairs.

With a quick twirl that ended in a hypnotic wobble, Ferris turned to face the ladder, and climbed.

----

Lara moaned softly as Will kissed her neck, his hands fumbling as he undid the last of her coat's buttons. She wasn't entirely sure what had caused the couch they were caressing each other on to suddenly pop out from one of the walls, but that didn't really matter. She was just happy being there, alone with one of the most handsome men she'd ever met. Her excitement grew as Will slowly probed his way over to the lapels of her coat and pulled them back to expose the flesh that lay below. He pulled his head away from the embrace to look at what laid beneath the blue folds, and gave a low whistle of approval.

"You like it?" She said dreamily, pushing her chest out to show off the red push-up bra she'd put on just for the occasion.

Will responded by wrapping his arms around her and locking his lips with hers. As there tongues wrestled lovingly, Lara closed her eyes, letting her sense of touch guide her as she expertly undid her partner's belt buckle. There was absolutely nothing in that could spoil this moment for her, nothing except for

A loud thump resounded from behind them, startling them out of their pre-coitus ritual.

"Goddammit Ferris," Will snapped, his head whipping around in an instant, "Don't you know how to..."

Will froze, the anger draining away from his face to give way to surprise.

"Knock?" A mature female voice growled. Lara bolted upright at that, her eyes wide with shock. Her mouth opened and closed uselessly as she tried to process this latest development.

"F-ferris?" Will stammered.

"Sup," The woman replied tersely as she vaulted out of the hatch with surprising limberness. Will tried to give her a one-over, but failed to make it past the vast expanse that was her chest. There was something hypnotic about the way her breasts shook with even the slightest of movements, which was not at all helped by the sheer amount of cleavage that was on display.

"Y-You changed," Lara said, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. Ferris frowned at her.

"And just who are you?" Ferris said tersely, her steel eyes boring into the young woman

"Lara," she squeaked in response.

Confusion flickered across Ferris's face, followed shortly there after by realization which in turn hardened into a cold, unreadable expression. Lara felt a chill run up her spine as Ferris clenched her fists.

"Tell me Lara," Ferris's said all to evenly as she walked towards the young woman cowering on the couch, the floor creaking and her chest quaking with each heavily step, "How much did it hurt?"

Now it was Lara's turn to be confused.

"What?"

Ferris slapped Lara across the face, hard.

"Hey!" Will exclaimed, reaching out to pull Ferris away from his girlfriend. Ferris blocked the arm and drove her elbow into his sternum with such force that it drove him halfway across the room and left him sprawled on the floor. She then stooped down, grabbing Lara's chin and forcing the shorter girl to meet her steely gaze.

"I said, how much did it hurt when you changed, Larry?" Ferris snarled

"W-who's Larry?" She stammered. Lara cried out as Ferris tightened her grip.

The girl in front of her wasn't the self-absorbed Neanderthal. Sure, there were similarities, but they were subtle, like those between two cousins. The fact that the petite woman with rounded curves in front of her had once been the bane of her existence wasn't the reason why Ferris's temper was beginning to rise. No, what enraged Ferris was the fact that Lara hadn't shown even the smallest hint of recognition at the sound of her old name.

"Hey Bitch!"

Ferris instinctively turned her head towards the sound of the irate voice. She didn't notice the fist coming at her face until it was too late.

Will was expecting several things to happen after he punched Ferris in the face. First, she would stagger back from the blow, opening her up for a knee to the chin. If she was still moving after that, he could easily pin her to the ground at which point it would be fairly easy to subdue her while Lara found something to restrain this terror of a woman.

In short, he was expecting Ferris to take the punch like a normal person, and like not concrete wall.

Will froze as the woman glared at him with the eye that did not currently a fist jammed into it, her face twisting into a grimace that showed off all of her long, shark-like teeth.

"Oh sh-"

He didn't get a chance to finish his exclamation when Ferris made her move. Her hand lashed out, gripping his arm tightly as her face contorted in rage. Will cried out as she wrenched his fist out of her face, a red bruise already forming around her left eye. She then grabbed his head with her other hand and slammed it against the table, locking his arm behind him to keep him firmly fixed against the metal surface. She tightened her grip on Will's arm as he thrashed about beneath her in a futile attempt to escape.

"Wrong move, " Ferris hissed as she leaned up against him. Normally, the sensation of breasts pressing up against his back would have aroused him, especially when they were as large as hers. That wasn't the case in this situation. In fact, he felt a strange dullness settling in all over his body.

"Let me guess," Ferris said, "you don't remember being a lanky son of bitch named Wilson, do you?"

"I have no idea what the fuck you're talking about." Wilson said. He was finding it a lot easier to focus on the face of the woman pinning him to the table than her mountainous cleavage. He noted off hand that, while the bruise he’d given her was still expanding, her left eye didn’t appear to be swollen in the slightest.

"Typical," Ferris sneered, twisting her head back at the young woman cowering on the couch, her knees drawn up against her chest as she silently wept in fear. "You don't remember being the poster boy for frat life," she shifted her focus back onto the man she had pinned against the table, "and you don't remember being an insufferable slacker. There was no pain as you changed, no fear when you're body turned against itself. As far as you two idiots can tell, you've always been this way."

"Are you going somewhere with this?" Will said, "My arm's starting to go numb."

"The point," She continued, her voice slowly rising "is that you didn't suffer while I did. In fact, you look like you got the best deal out of all of us, and I can't tell you just how much that pissed me off!"

Ferris punctuated her tirade by squeezing the appendage she'd latched onto with all of her might. She was expecting Will to cry out, for his fingers to twitch against his will as the nerves in his wrist reached their breaking point. She wasn't expecting for his wrist to give out a loud crunching sound as it hardened in her grip.

A single word resounded in the minds of the room’s three inhabitants.

What.

Will used his captor’s momentary confusion as a chance to slip out from underneath her. It wasn't too hard, seeing as she was now clutching her own hand. Will quickly examined his arm, and had to fight the urge to gasp in shock at what he saw.

The indents on his wrist where Ferris had been squeezing him were the least of his worries. The skin around the area was now hard and had a metallic sheen. Sparks of purple energy danced up and down his arm as the rest of his lower arm began to shift from flesh into bronze.

He turned to Lara, who’d raised a hand up to her mouth as she gazed on in slack jawed horror, and then to Ferris, who was caught somewhere between shock and satisfaction.

“What did you do to me?” Will said, his voice cracking in fear. His lower arm resembled a bronze gauntlet now, and his upper arm was thinning out drastically as it compacted into a pair of black metal rods that curved into his torso. The definition that he’d gained not moments before was atrophying at an astonishing rate, giving him a terrifyingly gaunt appearance.

Ferris didn’t reply, as she was busy dealing with a sudden and splitting headache. She could feel it as something began to sift through her jumbled mess of memories once more. Complex military tactics poured into her head as new memories were spliced in to override the old ones, memories of growing up in an domed city that wished to be an empire, of a young girl’s burning desire to see that empire rise from the waves that had buried it centuries long ago.

She remembered her excitement when she’d been the first woman to be accepted into the ranks of the Steamflex corps and the countless hours that had followed as she mastered the art of piloting the famed exoskeletons. But most of all, she remembered the pride that had swelled within her sizable chest when she’d was named general in recognition for the critical roll she’d played in quelling the Foggernaut uprising. She didn’t notice herself growing a decade older as her body aged to match the new timeline, let alone the fact that the mark around her eye was turning a crimson red as it continued to spread out across her left brow.

The changes had reached Will’s shoulder now, transforming it into an immaculately polished bronze pauldrons. His waist imploded in on itself as skin and bone gave way to metal rods similar to those that had taken the place of his upper arms and lower legs. Bronze plates curved outwards in the semblance of thighs as his lower torso became a complex mechanism surrounding a tube of purple energy. His screams were cut off as his mouth fused shut into a small grill and his lungs were replaced by gears. Plates similar to those that had replaced his knees and thighs enveloped his upper body, curving out in a manner similar to a popped collar around the metal contraption that had once been his neck. Glowing purple portholes appeared on the various plates that now made up the bulk of his body as his head was reduced to a polished skull of iron and bronze. It was then, and only then, did his changes finally come to a close.

The occupants of the room were all silent for a long moment. Lara was practically catatonic as this stage, while Will held his eyes firmly shut, trying to convince himself that this was all some sort of nightmare. Ferris, on the other hand, was clutching her head as the last fragments of her old life painfully vanished from her mind, taking with it her old name. Any fit of panic she may have had was tempered by years of military experience, the same experience that helped her subdue her volatile anger, and the same experience that was chastising her for wearing so little in front of her men, figuratively speaking.

“Will?” Lara said pitifully, breaking the silence. She suppressed a gasp as the construct that had once been flesh turned and looked at her, its mechanical eyes twisting as they fixed on her.

That broke the taller woman out of her reverie. She looked at the two figures staring mournfully at each other, and fought the urge to gag.

Now, most people would need to shout in order to break others other of their thoughts, but not this woman. All she had to do was cough.

Lara and Will’s heads whipped around so quickly that they may as well have gotten whiplash, or at that would have been the case for the former. The latter would probably need to get their neck tightened.

“At attention,” the woman said dryly. Her voice was huskier than before, and carried a certain weight that came with years of ordering others around.

The room’s other occupants immediately jumped to attention, their eyes filled with worry and fear.

“Remind me Engineer Lara,” the woman began, “what is official policy regarding fraternization within the ranks?”

“Interpersonal relationships are strictly forbidden between ranking male and female officers,” Lara responded instinctively, her mind supplying her with knowledge she didn’t know she had.

“Very good, Lara,” the taller woman said before turning her attention to the construct standing in front of her. The fact that she could look down upon it appealed to her for some reason.

“And what is the first rule aboard my vessel,” She paused for a second to fish out a name, “Ensign Wallonia”

“You’re the boss” the newly named Wallonia replied in a bubbly, if heavily filtered, voice. The design of her bronze face shifted shifted every so slightly, becoming more feminine.

“Correct,” the woman smirked casually before grabbing the two soldiers standing before her by their collars and hefting them off the ground.
“Now listen to me very carefully,” She snarled, “I don’t care about whatever twisted fetishes or suck kinks you’re into, so long as you indulge in them when you’re not supposed to be doing your job. When you are on duty on my ship, you are turned off. Am I Clear?”

The two soldiers nodded vigorously.

“Say it,” the woman hissed

“Yes General,” They said synchronously.

The General twisted her ear. The question when unasked, but was answered immediately nonetheless.

“Yes General Mofette” They repeated at the top of their lungs.

“Good.”

And with that, General Frida Mofette of New Sufokia dropped the soldier and the ensign to the ground. The mark surrounding her eye coalesced into a crimson wing, the meaning of which had been the subject of just about as many discussions as her cup size.

“How much longer until the repairs are done?” Frida asked, her hands crossed behind her back.

“It’ll probably take another day, ma’am,” Lara replied, “Maybe two. ”

“You have until tomorrow morning,” Frida said calmly

“But…” Lara started.

The buxom General glared.

“Yes ma’am” she replied hurriedly as she all but sprinted towards the hatch, buttoning up her jacket along the way.

“And take Wallonia with you,” Frida added, “Use her for spare parts if you need to. You don’t mind, do you Foggernaut?”

“Not at all ma’am,” the soul-infused construct responded quickly, bolting after the young engineer.

Frida watched in amusement as they tried to beat the other in a mad dash to get to the engine room. Once they were out of sight, she walked over to the table, allowing her buxom body to sway underneath her instead of actively suppressing is movements as she normally did. There were pros and cons to having curves like hers, and constant swaying was one of them. She grabbed the six-pack she’d spotted earlier, then made her way over to the couch, taking a moment to wipe it down with the coat that the two deviants downstairs must have been using in their foreplay.

“Technophiles,” she muttered, tossing the coat onto one of the chairs before settling down on the couch she’d had installed. After all, if the Commander of New Sufokia’s armed forces wanted to spend a month personally overseeing a Stasili reconnaissance mission, then she could also search for the precious mineral in comfortably.

She smiled as she heard the sounds of the soldiers below shouting as they frantically worked on getting the disguised ship’s engines back up and running. A tiny, infinitesimal part of her was strangely ecstatic at this, but she dismissed it as part of the usual buzz that came with a job well done.

And by the King, did she love her job.

---FIN---

[Rubilax]

And as promised, pictures!!!

As it is now evident, Ferris was transforming into General Frida Mofette, a major side character form the season 2 finale of the French Animated Series, Wakfu (source gallery). The outfit she wears in this story was inspired by a fanart of her, which can be found Here.


Lara's final form was based off of the 'bridge babes' from the same episodes, of whom there are unfortunately very few good pictures of. I'll add a picture of them once I find a semi-decent quality one.

Will was somewhat based off of the soldiers from the same episodes as the two above, while Wallonia is a modified Foggernaut.

Once again, Thank you to everyone who read the story! Special thanks go to Apsm for correcting grammar mistakes, and Frice2000 for commenting on it and sticking with it until the end.