Perchance to Dream - Part 1 :: BigCloset Classic :: BigCloset TG Stories <br /> June 2001 to November 2004

It could be a dream come true...

Perchance to Dream
Part 1

written by D. D. Weldons

I really hate breaking a nail when I'm not even able to afford to get a manicure now and then. I grimaced and shook my hand then looked. Darn. No wonder it hurt. I had broken it back up into "the quick", as my mom has always called it.

I sighed and rolled my eyes, then decided it would majorly suck the life out of me to let the nail fragment and the associated jagged edges go untreated for one more second. Not having any nail clippers handy, I picked up a large pair of sissors and trimmed the worst then took a coarse emory board from my pocket and buffed away the worst of the edges until I had time to make all things (as) right (as possible wit my nails).

I checked the clock as I went back to work and noticed I only had part of an hour left until my shift was over and smiled. At least that much was good. I hadn't been sleeping well, lately. I had been crying a lot, also. I mildly cursed some of the fiction I'd been reading, then cursed myself for being soft-headed enough to read it when I knew what it did to my emotional state, then cursed myself again, just on general principle. I briefly wondered if my friends would growl at me for the disregard for I showed for my self-esteem, if they had known.

My shift ended with only minor life suckage and I went home to the *major* life suckage in my life. Oh well. No good deed goes unpunished. I cursed myself again, but proceeded out to my car and drove home. My son was enthralled with an episode of Robot Wars on the sattellite receiver in his room. I managed to leap several feet, coming to a thunderous landing beside his bed as a I shouted "HELLOOO!!". Of course, as I'd predicted, he was completely consumed with his show and never heard me coming. He levitated about 18 inches off of his bed then landed and bounced gently.

"DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAD!!! grrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!!," he screamed. "You know I _hate_ that! Why do you keep doing it?"

I fell on top of him and started smothering his cheek in kisses. I said, "Because I loves ya and I wanted you to know I was home!" I didn't miss too many chances to use every movement of my lips to keep kissing him as I spoke.

He finally tired of the kisses and began struggling. And giggling. I'm glad he was giggling. He's my height and in better shape than I am, though I still have enough of a weight advantage that I can always win at (mostly) fair wrestling matches. I eventually pinned his arms around him in a bear hug and sat up, taking him with me, and kissed him one more time and told him, "I jes loves ya so MUCH!" and set him back on his bed.

"DAVE!!!" I heard, and managed to stifle my groans. That didn't keep me from pouting. I stopped a moment, then wandered in the kitchen to find something cold and wet to quench my thirst.

"Ya?"

"What were you doing to him?"

"He's my love lump and I'z kissin him silly! I gave him 50 kisses!"

"Well, if anyone ever heard him, they'd call the police 'cuz it sounded like you were killing him. Especially after you shook the house doing whatever it was that you were doing." She kept up her lecture, but I simply tightened my diaphram and projected in a good stage voice, "WhatEVEr! He knows I love him, and so does anyone else that spends any time around us."

"Well, I just worry, that's all. What are you doing in there, anyway?

"Looking for some iced tea or something. Looks like we're fresh out. Fudge bunnies. I guess I'll have some ice water, instead."

I heard her muttering and remembered why I called her the spousal abuser. I shrugged and went next door and let myself in and disarmed the alarm. I filled a 44 oz sports cup with ice and rearmed and relocked. I filled the cup to the cap and wandered in the living room and plopped down in my recliner and pulled up the organ bench with my computer monitor on it. I ignored some more mutterings from the spousal abuser and put my keyboard across my lap and logged in to my session. I suddenly realized I should have brought a snack, then realized that it didn't matter because I'm too fat and shouldn't waste food, anyway. I shrugged mentally and called up my various messengers: Yahoo, MSN, AOL... but I'd stopped using ICQ because of it's security issues. No one really on so I checked my email. I dumped a total of 187 spam messages from 4 different accounts, and answered a few surveys. (only 800 more points from one company and I can get the complete Friends, the 5th Season on DVD!)

After a few minutes, I was done with all that and checked a few TGF websites, then logged into the Undernet. It was pretty dead and 2 of the 3 redneck haters were chatting a bit in my favorite channel so I did the mental shrug thing again and logged out of Undernet and switched to Dalnet. There were a few old friends in my favorite DALnet channel. I chatted a few minutes and realized none of them were really in a good chatting mood and the people who were didn't speak English natively. I wasn't in the mood to be an English professor tonight, so I logged out of there, too. I turned up my internet radio station and made a request to the DJ on duty and started playing freecell and dabbling with various poetry and lyric ideas.

I was off the next day, so I wasn't worried about when I went to bed. After it got late, I went back to bigcloset to see if there were any new postings. I read one or 2 and sighed. So many of them were based on magic or some other wonderful occurance that would almost have to be supernatural. I suspected that magic, or what we think of as magic, wasn't impossible, but we didn't have the secrets of it, yet. I also wasn't too impressed with the chances of it being nearly as powerful as imagination would have it, even if it was discovered. I was much more positive about various forms of psionics. I'd potentially manifested various effects of that, myself.

I went back to playing freecell and surfing and occassionally IMing DJs and friends until around 11PM and got up to make myself a snack. I came back, cleaned out the spam, again, then wrote a short poem. It was only a few lines, but it had a nice feel. I was feeling good, so I even posted it to my website instead of waiting the normal few months before doing it out of boredom.

By the time I had all the edits, beautification, and testing done, it was almost 1AM. I'd actually intended to stay up longer, maybe much longer, but my eyelids were getting droopy. I shrugged to myself, murmured "What the fudge blarging bunnies..." and thought to myself *There's no use being superfreak. I'll get some rest so I can better enjoy my day off*.

I wandered through the dark into the bathroom and did various bathroom things that are done before going to bed, taking extra time to make sure my teeth were extra clean, giggling at how well I functioned to even be able to brush my teeth in the dark, then rinsed my brush and wandered back into the bedroom. I actually managed to slip into bed without waking up the spousal abuser and curled up on my side and realized I was _wide_ awake. Blarg. I tried to be very still and let my mind wander. I thought some about the stories I'd read earlier and thought, "sheesh, there has to be a way to do some of those things. My mind can do so many things... why can it not make me less ugly and maybe make my life a little easier?"

I don't really remember too much after that. I guess I went from wide awake to wide asleep in very little time. The next thing I knew, I was running across a parking lot. I'm not sure why. I just knew I was really in a hurry. Something made me leap, and then I was flying. My speed increased until I was flying several times faster than I could run. I suddenly realized (a) I can't normally fly (b) flying is cool (c) this was probably a dream.

Just to check (c) I flew a few circles and then stopped and hovered in mid air. "Wow." I suddenly wondered if I could fly in space in my dream of if my subconcious would follow normal rules. +++WHOOSH+++. I was rocketing straight up like Neo from the Matrix. It felt _wild_. I was yearning to do this in real life. To be able to escape. To live for a change. I began chanting a mantra: "Escape... escape.... escape.... escape.... ". The fabric of the sky suddenly changed... and ripped....

I was disoriented for a moment and stopped and hovered. I shook my head and realized I was hovering over my bed. Another look yielded the fact that I was hovering over my own body. Erk? My own body? Yes, there it was, my own body, right next to the spousal abuser. Ohhhhhhh! I'm still dreaming! I shrugged, then decided to enjoy my dream. As I blinked, the sheet disappeared from over my body. No, it was still there, I could just see through it. I could also see through the shorts and Tshirt I had worn to bed. Oh my blessed fudge bunnies. I'm ugly as sin. I thought to myself *Sheesh, why is my darned body hair so dark and coarse? Why do I even HAVE body hair?* About that time, it all disappeared. I grinned VERY happily. My facial hair went the same route. Just to see if could create as well as destroy, I made my longish hair just plain _long_, filling my my hairline and as I did. Now, instead of hair just touching my back, I had long, beautiful, thick, glossy hair to my waist. YaY!!

My grin was so big, my face was cramping and my teeth were getting cold. *Well, if I can do all that with hair, I don't have to be fat, anymore, either....* With that thought, I went from a plump size 18 to a nice slender shape that I was guessing would be a size 8. Wanting to stay in proportion, I was deciding what to do with my breasts, sizewise

And I woke up. Elton, my mutt, was leaned up on the foot of my bed with his paw on my foot and whining to go outside. *ARRRRRRRRRGHHHHHHHHHH! Darned dog.* I muttered and slipped my glasses back on to maximize the ambient light and walked with him to the back door. I connected the clip hook to his collar and released him outside. As I was stood up, I almost screamed. *OUCH! Why the blessed fudge bunnies does it feel like I'm pulling my own hair?* I starting running my hands through my hair and realized it was because I was kneeling on some of it. Erk? *My hair is long enough to kneel on it? Oh blarg, the dream worked!*

I took a deep breath and stealthily slipped back into the bathroom. I closed the door and turned on the light. Wow. The entire dream had worked. I took off my clothes and looked at my body. I had hair on my scalp. I had eyebrows (which I realized I'd arched as I'd stripped the hair from my mustache and beard shadow). I had long lovely curling eyelashes. But no whiskers. None. I felt my heart race with the thrill I felt. My body was simply completely bare of hair. I didn't even have any pubic hair. That caused me to realize, that while I had a very feminine waist, hips, buttocks, and legs, I was only about large A or small B cup, breastwise, just like I had been before the dream. Blarg. My hands and feet hadn't been affected, either. Not that my hands were a dead giveaway. But I'd certainly like something more feminine. I didn't like my jaw line, either. And I was still male. Blarg. But, I was probably 80 or 100 pounds lighter. Schaweeeet.

I slipped back into my sleeping clothes, turned off the light and stealthed my way back into bed. Wow. She still didn't wake up. Talk about a *ahem* dreamy night. I spanked my own hand for that, but softly, to not wake her up.

Then she was shaking me. "Dave, Dave, wake up... I'm too sleepy... Elton is barking. Can you go let him in, again, please?

I did the industrial strength sighing thing and staggered to the back door and let him back in the house. Why the blarg does she have to wake us _both_ up?

By that time, I was awake and my night vision was at 100% and I softly padded back into the bedroom and curled up with my back to the spousal abuser. She decided she want to cuddle (darned body heat thief!!!) and spooned into my back

And screamed in my ear.

Gawd, I hate when that happens.

I rolled onto my back and looked up at her as she almost killed herself leaping out of bed without untangling from the sheets, first. I stared up at her and said, "What the fudge blarging bunnies is your problem?" I even managed to sound miffed and stifle all giggles at her awkward landing.

She glared at me and said, "Who the fuck are you and what the hell have you done with my husband?!!?"

Oh gag.

I started peeling back sheets and getting back up. The third time that night. Blarg. She hopped over and turned on the light. Blarg. I blinked in pain. At least she did, too. I smoothed back my long hair and put on my glasses.

"What the FUCK have you DONE to yourself? I mean, your face is the same, but your hair... and your so damn _skinny_! You even have BOOBS!! You didn't look like that last night, What the FUUUUUUUCK did you do?!!?"

I cringed at the foul language. I've worked in prisons and don't use language like that. Why did she have to do it? I mean, like, she's a minister's daughter. He doesn't speak like that, either. Heh. I tossed my hair back, reminded myself how good it is that I always practice good posture because I didn't have to stand any straighter, and calmly replyed, "If you're through being a sailor, I'll let you answer your own question. I've been here allllll night long. With you. In bed. You know if I'd been doing anything to change my appearance this much, you'd have been awake and screaming at me. So, how do you think I did it?"

She gave me her standard 'Don't you _dare_ use logic on me' look. Schnicker. That never works. "I don't know. I don't guess you did. But _some_ damn thing happened. You didn't look like that last night."

Two points for the spousal abuser. She finally got something right. Even if she did have to have such a foul mouth. I decided to get it all over at once. I noticed it was 4:23 AM as I skinned out of my shorts, underwear, and Tshirt and let them fall to the floor. Ka-ching. Her eyes doubled in size. Ka-ching. She had an anxiety attack strong enough she fainted. I jumped forward and caught her. I artfully guided her fall into a fireman's carry and dumped her unceremoniously back into the bed. I aligned her body, fixed the sheets, turned off the light, and went back to bed. With any luck, I'd duplicate the dream conditions and have some more fun.

Note: TG transformation fantasy rated-M
Read Chapter 1.2.