HOME | DD

Description

After being transported into the body of an older, rich woman who was attending a high society party, our hero is exhausted after making his best attempt at acting like he wasn't utterly bewildered by his situation all night. He caught people side-eyeing him and giggling as he stumbled around on his heels, constantly adjusted his dress (which he found very uncomfortable), and generally looking like he was completely out of his element. Which, of course, he was. He gritted his teeth and displayed a nervous smile as he felt the makeup on his wrinkled face begin to slowly drip with the beads of sweat. His face felt tight and lacked feeling in some places, but he didn't know why. Through the conversations he was thrust into, he figured out that in this new life, he was apparently married and had kids who were adults now. The whole experience had his head spinning, so he quickly tottered around the party in his tight dress until he found his apparent husband and convinced him to leave early, using whatever lame excuse he could come up with. For some reason, this new husband of his was completely oblivious to the strange behavior his wife was showing. They both headed for the exit after saying goodbye to the host. He took our protagonist's hand and threw his jacket over him as they walked outside of the mansion. He noticed his body was stiffer and didn't move as fast. A black Rolls-Royce pulled up at the foot of the stairs they stood on. His new husband held his waist and hand, keeping him steady as they went down the stairs. He felt strangely comforted by him, despite the foreignness of his body and the fact that he was a stranger... and a man. The chauffer got out of the car and opened the back seat door for them. "I hope you had a good time, Mr. and Mrs. Bachard," he said. Being the lady, Mrs. Bachard was ushered in first by her husband and sank into the cushioned seats, exhausted from such a crazy experience. She took off her opera gloves, revealing wrinkled, thin hands with manicured fingernails. She then took off her expensive designer heels and massaged her sore feet. "God, how do women wear these things..." she muttered under her breath. "What was that, my love?" her husband asked. "N-nothing, my uh, my dear!" She blurted. "He's supposed to be my husband, but I don't even know his name..." She thought. She turned to look out of the car window, trying to distract herself from the awkwardness she felt. In the reflection, she saw her face—her new face. Looking at herself. The tightness and numbness she felt earlier began making sense. The smoothness of her face contrasted with the rest of her more aged-looking body, making it obvious she had been using botox. Filler also seemed to have been used on her lips and cheeks. It seems whoever she was now was someone who was somewhat of a plastic surgery addict. She tried making various expressions but had difficulty with the stiffness of her muscles. Realizing she must look crazy to her husband and chaffeur, she stopped looking at herself, straightened up in her seat, and flattened her dress. "Um... dear? How long will it take to get home?" She asked apprehensively. "An hour and a half, like always!" He answered cheerfully. She took a deep breath. "Right, of course..." she said as her face went white and her stomach grumbled. "Grace? Are you alright?" Her husband asked. She pressed the button to roll down the window and tried responding, but felt herself gag, so she threw her head out of the window and puked on the road. She passed out shortly after.

She woke up in a queen-sized bed with silk bedcovers to the site of her new husband's sleeping face. She jumped in shock and felt the memories of the night before flood her mind. "Oh yeah, this is my life now..." She put her head in her hands and rubbed her eyes. "Why wasn't I more specific in my wish? I could've easily avoided this..." she murmured as she threw the bedcovers off her legs. She was dressed in satin purple pajamas. "Wait, I didn't dress myself, did he...? Ugh. She shuddered at the thought. "Guess I should get used to it," she thought, slipping her feet into the slippers beside the bed. She explored the house she found herself in. It was a very sleek modern house but still retained a homey feeling, which was nice. She saw photos of her and her new family on trips, her kids as babies, her wedding photos, and other life events she apparently has had. Feeling overwhelmed, she shifted her focus to making breakfast.

After breakfast and coffee, she went to her new, huge wardrobe to get dressed. A sea of very feminine and stylish outfits surrounded her. She sifted through them for a while, trying to find the most familiar-looking clothes she could find—something more gender-neutral to make this transition a little less jarring. She settled on a leopard-print cardigan, a maroon blouse, mom jeans, and pumps. While dressing herself, she succumbed to curiosity and examined her body in the mirror more closely. After that enlightening experience, she reclined on the couch and decided to watch some TV to pass the time. While she shifted through the channels, she heard footsteps behind her until she saw her husband, Jeremy (she found out his name earlier while looking through photos), sit down beside her and put his hand over her shoulder, pulling her in for a little kiss. "Good morning, Grace. How are you feeling? Do you think you need a doctor?"

Description

After being transported into the body of an older, rich woman who was attending a high society party, our hero is exhausted after making his best attempt at acting like he wasn't utterly bewildered by his situation all night. He caught people side-eyeing him and giggling as he stumbled around on his heels, constantly adjusted his dress (which he found very uncomfortable), and generally looking like he was completely out of his element. Which, of course, he was. He gritted his teeth and displayed a nervous smile as he felt the makeup on his wrinkled face begin to slowly drip with the beads of sweat. His face felt tight and lacked feeling in some places, but he didn't know why. Through the conversations he was thrust into, he figured out that in this new life, he was apparently married and had kids who were adults now. The whole experience had his head spinning, so he quickly tottered around the party in his tight dress until he found his apparent husband and convinced him to leave early, using whatever lame excuse he could come up with. For some reason, this new husband of his was completely oblivious to the strange behavior his wife was showing. They both headed for the exit after saying goodbye to the host. He took our protagonist's hand and threw his jacket over him as they walked outside of the mansion. He noticed his body was stiffer and didn't move as fast. A black Rolls-Royce pulled up at the foot of the stairs they stood on. His new husband held his waist and hand, keeping him steady as they went down the stairs. He felt strangely comforted by him, despite the foreignness of his body and the fact that he was a stranger... and a man. The chauffer got out of the car and opened the back seat door for them. "I hope you had a good time, Mr. and Mrs. Bachard," he said. Being the lady, Mrs. Bachard was ushered in first by her husband and sank into the cushioned seats, exhausted from such a crazy experience. She took off her opera gloves, revealing wrinkled, thin hands with manicured fingernails. She then took off her expensive designer heels and massaged her sore feet. "God, how do women wear these things..." she muttered under her breath. "What was that, my love?" her husband asked. "N-nothing, my uh, my dear!" She blurted. "He's supposed to be my husband, but I don't even know his name..." She thought. She turned to look out of the car window, trying to distract herself from the awkwardness she felt. In the reflection, she saw her face—her new face. Looking at herself. The tightness and numbness she felt earlier began making sense. The smoothness of her face contrasted with the rest of her more aged-looking body, making it obvious she had been using botox. Filler also seemed to have been used on her lips and cheeks. It seems whoever she was now was someone who was somewhat of a plastic surgery addict. She tried making various expressions but had difficulty with the stiffness of her muscles. Realizing she must look crazy to her husband and chaffeur, she stopped looking at herself, straightened up in her seat, and flattened her dress. "Um... dear? How long will it take to get home?" She asked apprehensively. "An hour and a half, like always!" He answered cheerfully. She took a deep breath. "Right, of course..." she said as her face went white and her stomach grumbled. "Grace? Are you alright?" Her husband asked. She pressed the button to roll down the window and tried responding, but felt herself gag, so she threw her head out of the window and puked on the road. She passed out shortly after.

She woke up in a queen-sized bed with silk bedcovers to the site of her new husband's sleeping face. She jumped in shock and felt the memories of the night before flood her mind. "Oh yeah, this is my life now..." She put her head in her hands and rubbed her eyes. "Why wasn't I more specific in my wish? I could've easily avoided this..." she murmured as she threw the bedcovers off her legs. She was dressed in satin purple pajamas. "Wait, I didn't dress myself, did he...? Ugh. She shuddered at the thought. "Guess I should get used to it," she thought, slipping her feet into the slippers beside the bed. She explored the house she found herself in. It was a very sleek modern house but still retained a homey feeling, which was nice. She saw photos of her and her new family on trips, her kids as babies, her wedding photos, and other life events she apparently has had. Feeling overwhelmed, she shifted her focus to making breakfast.

After breakfast and coffee, she went to her new, huge wardrobe to get dressed. A sea of very feminine and stylish outfits surrounded her. She sifted through them for a while, trying to find the most familiar-looking clothes she could find—something more gender-neutral to make this transition a little less jarring. She settled on a leopard-print cardigan, a maroon blouse, mom jeans, and pumps. While dressing herself, she succumbed to curiosity and examined her body in the mirror more closely. After that enlightening experience, she reclined on the couch and decided to watch some TV to pass the time. While she shifted through the channels, she heard footsteps behind her until she saw her husband, Jeremy (she found out his name earlier while looking through photos), sit down beside her and put his hand over her shoulder, pulling her in for a little kiss. "Good morning, Grace. How are you feeling? Do you think you need a doctor?"