Mermaid Too

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I sat with her for about 20 minutes, and sensed that there was both feelings of anxiety and excitement. While it took a while to drag the concern out, it was worth it.

"It wasn't just me in my fantasy, you see, Robert was involved in it, and from everything you've told me, I wonder whether he'll have been changed as well..."

I had no idea. I had established that he wasn't wearing any costume clothing at all, from what I could tell he was in cord trousers, a blue open necked shirt and trainers, and while she didn't know what he'd 'popped out' for, there was no reason to think that he had anything on his mind but whatever it was he was doing.

"Well, what do you think, it's your fantasy? This does all hinge on one thing. When you were thinking about your fantasy, did you grant your full time naked, part time mermaid any magical powers?"

"Oh my! I did. It wasn't very often, but there were times when I imagined that he was able to transform like me".

"So what I know about what has happened, it's a bit likely that he is currently running around naked. How old did you imagine him to be?"

She thought for a moment, and in the silence I could hear the occasional drip of water from her mane.

"I think he was about 18." and then for a reason I could not get from her, she blushed, and was not drawn on the subject any further.

The silence was broken by a shout from the corridor, sounds of a scuffle, and then a room door closing. It made me think that this room was no longer secure - having broken my way in there was no longer an effective way of holding the door closed against some of the larger and more aggressive changed. I proposed that we move to my room directly below. She observed that then Robert would never find her, so we resolved to wait for another 20 minutes, then if he hadn't returned we'd go to my room.

My mind began to wander to my own predicament. What I was certain of was that my own, somewhat innocent fantasy was coming true, and in the spirit of my fantasy (which was terribly practical) I'd imagined six weeks for the change to occur. Six weeks, fourty two days, a gradual change. It was my fantasy, I'm entitled to it, I just wish I'd thought up something way more glamorous. Now six hours had elapsed since the change event occurred, and apart from the sudden change to my feet at the time, I could begin to feel a strangeness below my waist - nothing specific at this time, just a feeling of being not quite right.

At the time that everyone else changed I hadn't noticed any changes occurring to me. The chaos immediately following the change was intense, and how quickly I moved role from mildly interested hired stall holder to life saver. Some of the smaller children would have been crushed had I not lifted them over and behind my stall, and given that some of the parents were changed beyond all physical and mental recognition we did our best to comfort the kids, distract them and generally provide a bit of sanity until the initial crush and rush were over. Fortunately our stall was a bit tucked away, which sucked from a stall-holder viewpoint but was a blessing for us in the melee. As soon as law enforcement came by I handed the kids over to the officials. The stall owner, who had been dressed from neck to heel in brown suede leather, boots and a stetson and looked every bit the trendy rugged cowboy, seemed to suddenly shrink smaller at the change moment and I'll spare you the detail but I was completely unaware and somewhat shocked to discover that he habitually dressed in silky women's underwear under his leather. He became younger, shapely and very distracted by his new exterior shape. The leather clothing seemed to fit more snugly to his now female body and the cut was distinctly exotic. I think that while his voice was very changed, his mind was unchanged, and he hustled off to the bathroom as soon as he had a chance.

My cowboy boots had become part of me. Rather than wearing boots, I now had boot shaped feet. I could feel the outside of the boots as if they were skin. I could feel whatever surface was beneath the soles as if I were in bare feet. I realised with some sadness that in order to get my trousers off I was going to need to cut them. I liked my trousers, they were comfortable. The merge at the top of the boot with the skin of my leg was seamless, and where there had been a zip there was just mock stitching. Above the boot was a furry kind of brown fuzz from the top of the boot to the knee. The first bit of the transformation had completed, and while it was minor in comparison, it represented the first departure from humanity.

She watched me with interest as I examined myself, and once I'd turned my trousers back down to my ankles she pointed out to me that I should take a look at my face in the mirror. A feeling of dread filled my torso, and I frantically felt over my face as I reached for the mirror, the panic shortlived - I was a discheveled and dirty human being, some grime was smeared into the swaet on my forehead, but no changes yet, and frankly none expected, this was a ride below the waistline.

We sat in silence for a while, listening to the sounds in the hotel, the dripping of water elsewhere, the sobbing from along the corridor. I wasn't sure that I hadn't had enough of today...

"I don't even know your name" I admitted.

"Gerty, my friends call me Gerty"

"Gerty, I can hear some sobbing in a room near here, why don't you either stay here or come with me, given that the door is broken you might be better off coming with me - I can hear sobbing and I just wonder if I can provide some help for others along here"

Gerty agreed and we left her hotel room, knowing that we'd be able to hear if Robert returned.

The sobbing was coming from opposite Gertys door. I knocked. The sobbing stifled itself. I heard someone move to the door.

"Simon, is that you?" said a young female voice - clearly upset but not very clear - as if she had a pencil in her mouth.

I whispered to Gerty "You try, she sounds upset"

"Hi Honey, I'm Gerty, are you OK?"

"No, not really, and I can't open the door" the voice said.

"Why ever not dear"

"I can't reach the door handle any more" - my mind was racing - I was thinking she's was too small to reach.

"What's your name?"

"I'm Sharon"

"OK Sharon, do you need help before Simon comes back?"

"I think so, can you open the door?"

"Stand back from the door, go over to the bed and we'll open the door"

Meanwhile I'd fetched the fire extinguisher and prepared to break down a second door.

Standing by the bed was a girl of about 20 years old, short wavey hair and would originally I guess have been dressed as a traditional ponygirl in black latex catsuit, head and body harness, hoof boots and matching armbinder. The change had had a profound effect on her; her skin from the neck down was covered in the black short and glossy hair of a pony, her feet from the thighs down were pony back legs complete with black glossy hooves and steel shoes and backward facing knees. How she was able to stand with such a different configuration of joints I was unable to imagine, but I guessed that if this body was now reconfigured, enough of her mind was also reconfigured to allow her to walk. From the base of her spine was a floor length tail, and under her body harness her breasts were unnaturally large and being held high as if by an invisible bra. Her waist showed a reduction as if by corset, holding her torso erect. Her neck had a leather collar attached to her ponygirl headpiece which included a rubber bit. Pony ears swivelled on either side of her head. Her arms were held behind her by a matching armbider.

"Are you OK"

She took a double take of the very beautiful, tall and naked Gerty and me as we stepped into her room.

"No" she sobbed and as if that question has broken her, she stumbled onto the bed face down and began to cry and cry.

Gerty and I did our best to comfort her, it felt odd cuddling and rubbing a human being who was at the same time the feel and smell of a pony. She sobbed and sobbed until she had cried herself out, and eventually she pulled herself together and began to tell her story.

She and her husband were in the Conference Centre, the change happened, and from that moment on her beloved husband had treated her as if she were a real horse - he got her out of the Conference Centre and back to the hotel room, but did not treat her with any kindness above that of a pet, and did not seem to be able to understand what she said. While we could clearly hear her words, he was acting as if he heard her human speach as a whinnying horse. He had gone out to see if he could arrange a horsebox to take her back home, as if the horsebox that she had arrived in had been stolen. She had attempted again and again to explain that they had a perfectly good station wagon in the parking lot, he seemed to hear only whinnying. Firstly the loss of her husband, then worse, because she could no longer feel her hands.

We explored the armbinder, and undid the laces and buckles holding her arms pinned behind her. We had to undo the armbinder completely - I saw what had happened though the fabric before we tugged really hard to release the end where her hands had been. Her arms had reconfigured through the change as well, and as she swung her arms forward a terrible cry of anguish filled the room - her arms were covered in the same hair as the rest of her - the front legs of a pony with the length of her human arms, complete with steel shod hooves. She looked upon them in horror, as if not believing her eyes, and tore at one hoof with another in a fruitless attempt to take the hooves off, then collapsed face first on the bed and sobbed a lot more.

She still had the body harness and head harness on, so we found the harness buckles and removed them while she sobbed. I was worried that he harnesses might have been considered a vital part of being a ponygirl, but they seemed not to be, and she seemed grateful to get the bit out of her mouth as she worked her jaw and licked her lips whilst still sobbing. Looking carefully I could see that her lips looked different from himan lips, firstly they were pink, but also there were bristles around her mouth and chin - new additions to her face, which had been otherwise unchanged.

Eventually she stopped sobbing and rolled over onto her back, but only briefly as her tail got in the way. Sitting on a chair with reversed knees is impossible, and sitting on a bed with legs out straight can't be done as the tail is in the way, so she compromised by lying on her side.

"What am I going to do?" she asked the impossible question that I was waiting for.