The Intervention

 1/25

I already have a flashback cap planned out for this standalone

We’ve all got one of those friends – the kind that need saving. I don’t just mean once either – it’s again and again, and each time, despite how you think you have finally got through, you know they'll be needing another rescue sometime soon. Mine was Phillippa, and even as I sat in the small box room on the end of her bed waxing lyrical about how she would get past this and find something better, I didn’t quite believe my own words. Part of me knew this would be just the latest episode in a long line of fuck ups.

This time she had fallen in with a local gang. I suspected drugs were involved but I knew she was turning tricks for them, and even with her history, this shit seemed a little deeper than usual. She looked genuinely scared that I was here and kept glancing nervously to the large chest at the end of the bed – the only other furniture in the grotty one room apartment. Finally, I gave up and asked what was inside.

“It’s what they make me wear. For the clients…” She stammered. “It’s not clothing.” She explained seeing my confusion, “it’s like a kind of bodysuit. I put it on and I become their whore. It makes me feel things. It makes me want to do things. It’s how they make sure I service the clients properly.” Phillippa’s face glowed red with humiliation and a tear rolled down one cheek.

Suddenly, the intercom beeped and I saw panic enter Phillippa’s eyes. “It’s them!” She hissed. “You need to hide!” I surveyed the room around me – bare except for the bed and the chest. My friend threw open the lid and I saw what looked like the body of a young women wearing a night gown filling the inside space. “You need to put it on!” She shrieked. “If they find you in here, they will kill us both!” No time for a second thought, I stripped off my clothes and Phillippa stuffed them into a pillowcase. She then helped me into the bodysuit and folded me into the chest – finally closing the lid and consigning me to darkness.

Not seconds later, angry male voices filled the room outside my box – a muffled scream, more shouting, a crash of something hitting the wall, more shouting, and then finally the slam of a door. When I was sure the coast was clear, I pushed open the top of the test.

As I had pulled on the bodysuit, I had been operating on pure adrenaline. I hadn’t had time to look at it, but now in the empty room, I ran slender feminine hands over skin that felt as real as my own.. I caught sight of myself in the mirrored ceiling and a beautiful young woman in a negligee gazed back. No hint of my male self could be seen, and more importantly, no hint of a way to remove the suit.

Realising that if I wanted to remove it, I needed to find my friend, I stumbled out of the apartment and into the night. It was a sketchy neighbourhood and I saw men leering at me from street corners as cars whizzed past. I had walked about half a mile when I started to feel strange. A heat smouldered in my abdomen before spreading into my groin with a tingling warmth. As I tried to focus, Phillippa’s words pounded in my head.” It makes me feel things. It makes me want to do things.”