“I’m not gonna be what my daddy wants me to be / I wanna be what my body wants me to be”

At the very least, having his body suddenly and rapidly changed didn’t hurt. It didn’t feel like much at all, actually. That wasn’t to say Isaac was aware of what was even happening to him in the moment. The light emanating from the pendant he’d been given was blinding, quickly encasing him completely in an ethereal cocoon; he almost instantly lost nearly any and all awareness of the world around him for the briefest of fleeting, bewildered moments. Then, as soon as it had appeared, the glow vanished, the light receded. Isaac could see again, and it was very, very strange. His point of view seemed higher up, as though he’d grown taller. Beyond that he felt generally more poised. His posture felt naturally better, his weight more evenly distributed, his shoulders, back and muscles simultaneously relaxed, but always ready to react. 

It was unfamiliar, to say the least. Far beyond the physical changes, which Isaac was growing more and more certain each moment had indeed occurred. Everything just felt implacably different; without even bothering to move, Isaac could just feel that he was far more flexible, far more coordinated, faster, stronger. There was something else, though, something even more abstract; Isaac just felt more comfortable. He didn’t know what was different and how, but he felt this absence of tension, tension which Isaac hadn’t even known was there until after it had disappeared.

Standing stock still in the middle of Sybil’s home, Isaac internally processed all the new feelings the light had brought him in a matter of seconds, seconds which felt quite a bit longer to him. After managing to fully compose himself, his gaze fell on Sybil, who was staring at him with wide eyed surprise and interest, mouth slightly agape. 

“Um, is something wrong?” At the sound of his own voice, Isaac chalked up another oddity. It  was softer, huskier, maybe a little higher too, though not particularly high. If anything it mostly just sounded androgynous, and oddly, Isaac didn’t mind that at all. For her own part, Sybil seemed to take that change in stride, giving a thoughtful nod, as though it somehow fit with whatever preconceived notions she held toward the figure she saw standing before her. 

“I wouldn’t say wrong, just, shall I say unexpected? If I’m being honest, I didn’t entirely know what that pendant would do to you other than change you in some way to make you more useful. I’d say it seemed to work though. Have a look.” Sybil gestured to Isaac’s right, and as his gaze followed the hand, he realized that a mirror hung mere feet away. In other circumstances, he might have taken a moment to consider whether or not said mirror had always been there. Instead, Isaac was far too busy being transfixed by what he saw before him.

He didn’t exactly have any expectations coming in; there hadn’t really been time to actually get a feel for just how, exactly, his body had been changed, but one thing was for certain, Isaac was most definitely surprised by what he saw before him. He had definitely gotten taller—maybe around 6’2”?—and clearly stronger, his bare arms and legs now sporting toned, taut muscles. That was another thing; whereas before he’d been wearing a simple jean and t-shirt combo with a thin hoodie, his clothing had become a sort of light tunic, which did well to highlight the many changes to his form. 

And it really had changed. The height and muscles were one thing, but all over his skin seemed smoother, springier; much of his body hair had disappeared. Though he’d grown larger, he actually appeared to be quite a bit slighter, at least proportionally. His shoulders looked undeniably strong and sturdy, but had an unfamiliar narrowness to them, his waist felt slim, and his hips seemed slightly wider than he’d otherwise expect. It had an odd effect, making him look slender, flexible and nimble, but simultaneously sturdier than he’d ever felt. 

Then there was his face; it had been odd seeing changes to his body, but when Isaac’s eyes roamed the contours of his new face, that was perhaps the most surreal moment of all. He barely recognized himself, seeming more a distant relative than the person he’d come to know as himself. His face was smoother, cheeks rounder, jaw more angular, eyes bigger and more expressive. Any traces of facial hair had vanished, leaving him ambiguously boyish, the sort of face a person might see on the street and be perplexed as to whether they were looking at a fourteen-year-old boy or a twenty-five-year-old lesbian. The shock of thick, dark, voluminous hair styled in an ambiguous mid-jaw length pixie cut did little to fix that.

Beyond that he just looked younger, healthier. Perhaps more accurately, he started to look more like someone his actual age. It wasn’t at all uncommon for acquaintances to assume he was in his early to mid thirties instead of his early to mid twenties. Life had been a bit of a burden on him, simply existing how he had been existing put a burden on him, and it showed. Not anymore, though; Isaac looked young, energetic, with an almost aloof, alluring calmness. It was certainly an improvement over his old harsh features and tired eyes. 

Taken as a whole, the entire ensemble that was this new shape he’d been granted gave the impression of a strong, but graceful looking fighter type. He sort of looked like the kind of “tough-girl” archetype one might see in a modern day action movie. The kind that buzzed her hair and wore tank tops and swore like a sailor. He looked like that, except less decidedly a woman, definitely more ambiguous, and a lot less mean. The sort of person who could give and take a punch, but also sweet talk his way past a guard with a charming smile and a wink, probably leave said guard a little confused about his sexuality along the way, regardless of which way he might swing—assuming it wasn’t both. 

There didn’t seem to be an easy explanation why, but as Isaac took himself in, he felt one feeling more than any other: joy. For the first time in he couldn’t remember how long, he actually kind of liked the way he looked. Sure, there were a few things here and there he wouldn’t mind changing—he couldn’t say what, off the top of his head—but this was a vast improvement. Isaac felt strong, confident, charismatic, simultaneously handsome and pretty. He just felt comfortable. It was odd, almost unsettling, he really hadn’t realized just how much he’d hated looking the way he did without whatever little gift Sybil had bestowed upon him. 

In the back of his mind, Isaac had always known there were things he didn’t like about himself. Like how he always felt so squat and clumsy, or how ugly and square his face had been, the way his genes had fucked him over and given him a noticeable receding hairline by the age of twenty-one. He’d always dreaded getting older, because it always just meant more of that. It meant getting worse to look at, more repulsive in the mirror as his skin lost its healthy sheen, as his eyes grew baggy, as his hair became more sparse in the places he wanted it, and ever thicker in the places he didn’t. This though, this was just better in every discernable way. 

With effort, Isaac pried his gaze from the mirror to give Sybil his attention, and realized there were tears welling up in his eyes, that he was trembling. The entire feeling was so surreal, it had been so long since he was able to just feel emotion like that. Before, the day-to-day demands of his life had worn him down til he was just numb. He didn’t care about anything. But he was free from that now, and free from the pain that existing in his old body had been. There was really only one thing Isaac could think to do in light of all that. 

“Thank you.” His words were nearly caught in his throat as he choked on his own emotions, the words trembling and sad and happy and scared and relieved. For her part though, Sybil simply looked shocked. Apparently someone getting a sudden magical transformation was just an interesting little happenstance to study, but said person showing real emotion at receiving it was akin to being held at an interpersonal knife-point. She chewed her lower lip thoughtfully, narrowing her eyes as she mulled the situation over. 

After several seconds of Isaac awkwardly staring at her, having a moment in the middle of her living-room, Sybil did manage some sort of reply. “I’m not sure I fully understand.” She probably could have done better. Though, confronted with the reality of the situation, Isaac quickly came to a realization.

“I’m not sure I do either. Not fully anyway. I just feel liberated, I guess? I was trapped before in so many ways. Trapped by an uncaring world, by dwindling options and nothing to look forward to but just more of the same thing, only steadily getting worse and worse as I got older and more pathetic.” He shuddered as another round of tears came. “All this, though, it’s like a fresh start. And this body, well, it’s a new me to go along with that fresh start. A new me that doesn’t have all those things wrong with it.” He trailed off toward the end, vaguely gesturing and grasping at air as though trying to come up with something concrete. Despite the ambiguity, he couldn’t help but feel the corners of his lips curl into a wide smile. That seemed to partially put Sybil at ease as well, though she still looked uncertain.

“What things were wrong with it?” At the very least any annoyance Sybil had been showing toward Isaac had all but evaporated, which was a relief. He could handle simple confusion, even if he still didn’t have a great grasp on the situation himself.

“It was just wrong, I mean, I can’t tell you why or how, and it was probably tied up with a lot of other things, but I’m just glad to be somewhere else now.” It wasn’t the most comprehensive answer, but it seemed to satisfy Sybil, who gave another quiet nod, then spoke again.

“Well, I suppose that will have to do. And, for what it’s worth, you’re welcome. I don’t know you, I didn’t want you here, but if bringing you here has unwittingly made your life better, then I’m happy to have done that for you. Back to the matter at hand though, that form, it’s stronger, more capable than how you used to be. Probably more courageous too. Fighting should come naturally now, which we can test out later, but I suggest we both take what remains of the day to rest and prepare. If you want to help me, then we’ve no time to waste.” The calculated, all-business expression Isaac had seen Sybil take on a few times since his arrival had returned. If nothing else, the witch was intimidating; she’d never slipped into full on cruelty with him, but something lurked behind her every action that Isaac could sense which gave him pause. 

Only minutes had passed since he'd first arrived in her home, but Isaac could already tell Sybil was teetering on an edge. He’d seen the pain in her eyes, heard the desperation in her voice. She was a good person, he felt, but she was also someone with so little left. He didn’t know what may have happened to her, but Sybil gave the impression of someone who was no stranger to trying times. And Isaac wasn’t naive, he knew what he represented to her. More importantly, he knew what he wasn’t to her. And the fact that he wasn’t had been crushing to her. Without a doubt, Sybil was strong and powerful. When he’d been desperate, he’d fallen apart in a little whimpering episode behind a dumpster. He highly doubted Sybil would take it the same way if things got bad enough to send her over the edge. And Isaac didn’t want to see what would happen if Sybil was brought that low. He didn’t take her for someone who would ever hurt him, but he knew the stability of his future depended on helping her. 

But he would help her, gladly, because beyond that pain he saw the other person. The person Sybil wanted to be, and she was worth it. When she’d shown him tenderness, when she’d spoken about the woman she loved, when she’d become some giddy, excited dork asking if cars were real. The way she’d taken the moment to consider his own feelings despite everything going on with her. That was a person he wanted to see more of, even if, somewhat disappointingly, he wasn’t the person she wanted him to be. Truthfully, Isaac was captivated by the mysterious, gorgeous witch. He saw himself in her darker thoughts, and saw the kind of person he wanted to be—or at least, the kind of person he wanted there to be more of—in her brighter ones. And as such, Isaac found himself more than happy following her down that path to wherever it took them.

And it was for those reasons that, despite finding himself in a strange new world, despite knowing nobody and next to nothing, he was glad. For the first time in so long he felt like there weren’t walls closing in on all sides of him, like there was a net to catch him if he fell. He gave Sybil a polite smile, and asked where he could settle in. 

SapphicSounds

Hello my lovely readers! I hope you're enjoying the story so far. If you're eager for more, you can currently read all ~66k words of this story over on my patreon for as little as $2 a month. If you become a patron you'll get early access to not only the rest of Once More to See You, but also to the work in progress of my next story which just so happens to be a sequel to Chick Before the Egg with twice the eggs and who knows how many times the density. Plus you'll get monthly exclusive posts, access to polls, an invite to my patron only discord, and exclusive audio readings of some of my more titillating  works (and pictures of my cat).

If you're interested in commissioning a work from me, I'm currently taking commission requests, for more info feel free to email me at [email protected]

And lastly, feel free to follow me on twitter if you like. I mostly just tweet nonsense, but I think it's fun nonsense.  

Anyway that's all my shilling done. Hope you all enjoyed the chapter!