Schism of the Gods Among Men
I was watching Conan make an ass of himself when I got the call. Normally I’d answer it regardless: part of the job, and criminals don’t leave crime scenes at times that are convenient for me. Inconsiderate bastards.
This time I hesitated though. Technology isn’t my strongest skill, but I set that custom ringtone for a reason. It was them. They picked me up like any other, but when they found out I was defective, they were ready to discard me. So this call meant they needed me, and my night was about to get very strange.
It was Rand. He’s more or less my chaperon. It was about an Awakening. No wonder they needed me: Awakenings are a race to bolster one’s ranks: fail and your enemies grow stronger. What blew me away was that it was 3 of them. This was going to be a long night.
En route to the first location, Rand got a call and passed the phone to me so he could continue driving recklessly. Dennis, another acquaintance of mine, had been targeted by some mage, with one of their awakened conveniently in the building. Hey, if all goes like this, maybe I’ll get some sleep tonight after all!
After picking up the raw recruit, we had 2 options. Investigate a strip club under tape or dick around a reservation. I made my preference clear and we were off. I chuckled, making a lewd joke in my head nobody was privy to.
Getting behind the tape was as easy as being seen. Even though my previous position of chief investigator had been filled, I was still the brightest of my team in this new incarnation.
The current team working the case had since left, but I had other means of finding this rogue mage that fled the scene. I cast a lewd eye at the dancers drinking off the nights events before looking down at a discarded shoe my mind couldn’t comprehend walking in, let alone dance in. I had those thoughts because I knew what I had to do, even if the concept disgusted me. I’d have to become the owner of that shoe to find her before they did.
Gripping the platform shoe en route to a safe place to perform the switch, I looked back over my lives, realize that the body I was about to inhabit would be the first of its kind I’d have endured. “If she’s a mage, its only for a day” my mind repeated until we arrived. I sighed and performed my dark work.
In a mere ten minutes it happened. A stripper with a weak mind, what a strange twist. But my joke was only to ease my mind overwhelmed with new stimuli. Long hair blocking my peripheral vision. Small hands clutching a sheet covering two huge boobs. That alone stopped my gaze for a moment before moving down. Escaping the sheet were two small feet, sore from what I assume dancing in eight inch heels and running barefoot in hysteria. But I wasn’t running. My eyes rose to see sitting in front of me a man that made me feel fear for something I thought I’d never worry about again: I felt fear for my life.
I noted we were in a limo and in a nonchalant manner asked where I was being taken to, clearing my throat upon hearing my voice. This will take some getting used to. I couldn’t believe what I had done to myself, but resolved I’d be back to normal in a day. I didn’t suffer multiple lifetimes becoming one of the best investigative minds to trade down all the way to stripper.
After a battle of wits, almost irrationally arguing against him and threatening her life in the process, I escaped the limo clad only in the sheet I’d been given as well as a g-string I felt wedged in my ass. I was disgusted what I had done to myself. I was certain the others were in pursuit of me by now and collapsed on the cold deserted sidewalk and stared at my body in a mix of disgust and curiosity. I pulled the sheet away after a moment and was disappointed to find pasties “concealing” her breasts—at that moment headlights flooded the street and I covered myself back up quickly flusing red. I then feared what this shame meant. Was I going mad?
I thankfully didn’t have time to think as the others called from the vehicle and I quickly thrust my scandalous body into the car. Only to face myself. That was awkward. After telling “her” a premature switch back was impossible, the argue thankfully ended. In only a day we’d be free.
Last stop was an indian reservation. They don’t like authority figures, even investigators (since they don’t like others meddling in their affairs) so I was strangely at ease being a stripper at the moment. That is until we spotted a very familiar vehicle.
Attempting to tap into the mana and power of my new body, I managed to “see” magic: and that dark mage. More importantly I used it to find the third mage and leave so I could sleep off this foreign skin. The last mage was off into the woods though, and I revolted having to run barefoot with nothing supporting my pendulous chest. The first new mage lent me his jacket so I wouldn’t have to keep holding that sheet up. I didn’t quite cover my ass, but there was no time to feel shame.
After a mad dash to a cave, we found the last mage. Before heading off, I asked her for some clothes, but all she had on offer was a sarong for my waist. NO shoes yet for my aching feet. Upon turning to leave, the dark mage was there. The first mage, wanting to be called “crim” threw a knife as a preemptive strike. Useless as it appeared the dark mage already resolved victory would not be his. Thankfully he left and we made our way to a safe-house.
Exhausted, once in the privacy of one of the safe-house rooms, I stripped down to my g-string. HER g-string. I cursed at my starting to identify with this body. Staring momentarily at my semi-naked body, I resolved to remove the pasties as well, since the skin under them was starting to get irritated. Lastly I crawled into bed, trying to ignore so much more movement and tried to sleep. Before I dozed off, I remembered realizng I hadn’t even looked in a mirror yet.
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