I watched Tana’s beautiful naked ass sway as she walked away and closed the smaller door behind her, confused by her demeanor. She’d treated what we’d done like a – a joke. Could she not feel me? Didn’t my – well, the visitor – tell me that all we needed to do what we’d just done in order to-
Oh.
Pressure eased away from the edges of my perception as my field of vision sank without conscious thought. All manner of sensations I’d easily ignored before demanded my attention at once – light that stung my eyes, the wisp of breeze at my back, an odd feeling of being too cold. I drew myself up, immediately recognizing the strange, unsteady support from my shared dream with Tana. A glance down confirmed it – human hands turned back and forth under my curious new eyes. I widened my fingers in wonder and wiggled bare toes on the carpet below, raising a brow at the fleshy, though still very thick, tube of flesh that replaced my knob. A cough of alarm and rapid scuttling behind caused me to glance over my now-human shoulder.
“Oh! My goodness gracious. Come here, Christopher-Thomas – I don’t know what on earth possessed that girl to-to-” A quick look confirmed that a floral dress-decked Mrs. Scrimshaw had gathered up her mangy little chihuahua. I smirked as she scurried away as fast as her orthopedic sneakers could take her, tutting and scandalized.
The doorway around me was entirely empty now, my new form apparently taking shape in place of my old, sturdy wooden self. I dug my new fingers into the feathery brown mop at the top of my head, an instinctual gesture of frustration mimicked from what I’d watched in movies and shows. How could I possibly protect Tana now? Despite my hopes my change of form would make me a better protector, I felt so…fragile. I’d barely touched the door frame with an unexpected touch of wistfulness when a startled shriek snapped my attention back to the apartment’s interior hallway. A towel-wrapped Tana stared at me with a slack jawed expression and – was that a spatula? – clutched in her hand like a weapon.
“YOU! Get- Get OUT of here! I’ll call the fucking cops!” Both Tana and I glanced at where her cell lay on the coffee table, well outside her reach, before meeting again in our mid-apartment standoff. She huffed in annoyance and brandished the spatula threateningly at me again. “Also, where the fuck is my DOOR?
“I’m-” I coughed, clearing my throat as the scratchy syllables seemed to tumble out reluctantly. My voice sounded strange and deep to my newly-formed ears. All of this was going to take a lot of getting used to – everything was just so…fleshy. “I’m right here, Tana.”
She pointed with the spatula, her eyes darting between my body and the open rectangle of space behind me. “What? No. No. That’s impossible. Is this some kind of prank? Because it’s not fun-” Her gaze dropped to my waist and the spatula clattered to the hallway floor as she clapped a hand over her mouth. I followed her gaze down to find the strange sock from earlier hanging off of the thick, protruding rod of flesh between my thighs. I gently tugged the covering off of myself, raising the slick, translucent length up to eye level and squinting at it curiously.
Tana’s expression changed to alarm as she looked anxiously past me to the empty vestibule exterior corridor at his back. “Dude! I- listen, you need to get in here and – I don’t – oh my god. Oh my god. We need to cover the doorway and get you some clothes and oh my god I don’t even know how-” Tana’s voice had picked up speed and pitch and her eyes had gone wide, her breath coming in short huffs. I’d liked those gasps when my knob was inside of her, but found that they distressed me now.
“Tana, it will be okay. I can protect you now. Remember? I told you in your dream, and you did exactly what I asked of you.” I smiled, getting used to the sensation of baring my teeth now, the act feeling far less awkward than it had in Tana’s dream.
She cautiously moved towards me, clutching her towel tightly around her body while pulling the twisted one holding her hair off her head, thrusting it at me, all while looking pointedly in another direction. “Here – go uh, go sit on the couch. Put that under you. Over you, whatever. I’ll…see if I have some sweatpants or something.” I took the still-damp towel and walked, a little woodenly, over to the couch. Movement was certainly convenient, but the upright unsteadiness was off-putting. Humans certainly had good balance.
Tana was still looking at me like I might bite, so I sat down immediately, hoping to put her at ease. A shaky sigh sounded down the hallway, followed by the gentle taps of her bare feet headed down to her bedroom. A few minutes later, a length of cloth gently landed on my shoulder and chest from behind me – elastic-ended pant cuffs in a soft grey fabric.
“Put those on, please. If we’re going to talk I don’t want to do it staring at your cock. I think these will fit, my ex left them at my last place.” Tana’s voice was still strained; my chest ached to fix it. After I’d tugged on the sweats and unknotted the cord to fit them around my waist, I turned to her over the back of the couch.
“Tana, I’m sorry if I frightened you, I was surprised as well, but I hope you don’t regret what brought me here. You must understand, my only concern is protecting you.”
She swallowed audibly, retreating to the kitchen as she answered. “I don’t – I didn’t believe in…whatever the hell you are, but uh, clearly I need to start.” The clink of glass and metal, followed by a sharp pop echoed over the counter. “Today is definitely a mimosa day. I’m going to need like, two to even start dealing with this.”
“Tana NO!” I vaulted over the back of the couch, nearly getting tangled in my new human legs and borrowed sweatpants in the process. I rushed to the kitchen, banging a hip on the counter in my hurry to knock the orange juice container out of her hand.
She gasped, juice sloshing all over the counter and her fresh clothes, pinning me with an irritated glare. “What the fuck, dude! I’m sorry if you don’t approve of alcohol or something but I’m off work and who are you to jud-”
Panting with the effort of sprinting and dealing with my own terrified, hammering heart, I grabbed the sides of Tana’s arms too firmly, adjusting my grip when she winced. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m still getting used to…hands. Randall poisoned your juice, Tana. I genuinely don’t care what you drink, but please don’t drink that.”
“Poisoned? You’re crazy, I just bought this like two days ago, and the only time I’ve left my apartment was to go to the grocery-” She gasped, clapping a hand to her mouth for the second time that morning. “Oh my god that fucker. Mrs. Scrimshaw’s oven wasn’t broken, was it?” Her features went from irritated to furious as I shook my head.
She righted the clear plastic juice container from where it had fallen on the counter, holding it up to the kitchen light and scowling at some strange sediment at the bottom. “I swear to god, I’m going to murder him first.”
But as I watched, Tana’s look of fury melted into terror, her nose scrunching as she fought back tears. “I could have died if you didn’t stop me.” Again, she huffed those short little breaths that tugged at me like someone was trying to pry me open with my lock engaged. I held open his arms gingerly and, to my relief, Tana took the obvious invitation to comfort. She nuzzled her cheek against my bare chest, her fingers scrabbling around my lower back to hold herself close. I clutched her tightly, burying my nose in her damp hair, taking deep breaths of her soft floral shampoo scent.
“You’re safe now, Tana. He can’t hurt you while I’m here.” I hesitantly ran a palm down Tana’s back in what I hoped was a soothing motion. She sniffled against my skin, standing on tiptoe to look over my shoulder. “But if you’re here…what am I going to do about my door?”
I followed her gaze to the brightly-lit rectangle where I’d previously spent my entire existence. Raising a brow, I nodded at the empty space. “Well, uh, is there a place where people…buy doors?”
