Chapter XIV

     

    Thanks to a system of strong, camouflaged stalks, Cecelia was able to melt herself against the driver’s chair of her work truck and arrive to the jobsite invisible to anyone peering through the windows. Sure, if someone were to open the door, the tentacles would be exposed, but doors are thankfully opaque and lockable.

    Shriveling up into a dull lump, she phased through the driver door and onto the driveway in the same manner she boarded. Once on the ground Cecelia carefully rolled closer to the truck bed, checking to make sure nobody could see her as she traveled, even though the risk of being seen was tantalizing. Eventually, she passed the back of her Sierra entirely, the focus on her duties as an HVAC tech dashed from her mind as she eyed the placid mailbox standing steadfast beside the driveway. Climbing up the curb and into the grass, she nestled against its post and congealed into an unremarkable gray stone.

    The rock shuddered. In flashes, an eye would open on her sides every few seconds, only exposing itself for blinks of time. She yearned for someone, anyone, to come outside and see her, peer at her, at least have her in their field of vision, but alas, nothing. Yet.

    Allowing a soft moan to resonate across her elongating form, she loosened up and clung hard to the mailbox’s post, unraveling her stone form to become many strands of ivy. Leaves bloomed like flowers all over her and the way the physics of her shape interacted with the mailbox, Cecelia could hold herself in place with very little effort. Please notice me...

    The young technician felt a pang of guilt staying out here; she didn’t want to inconvenience her boss, plus, she knew she was on a worsening procrastination streak. On top of that, it was one of her closest friends who hired her company. After another minute disguised as a plant, she took another look around before melting off the mailbox into a sticky green taffy all over the surrounding grass. The taffy drew in, shrinking to a meager ladybug, which took flight and <klak>ed into the bed of Cecelia’s GMC as a red pony bead.

    “Ahhh...” the bead sighed as it swelled into the curvaceous Daboville, who collected her tools and crawled back, only to be stopped by the tailgate. Her boots, subject to her abilities just like anything else, melted with her feet and ankles into sharp-tipped tendrils that fiddled open the obstructing latch. Returning to normal, Cecelia climbed out of her truck and into the house ahead.

    Cecelia entered via the back door, landing in the aged sun room adjacent to the dining room, from where a hanging odor sat in the air. Not wanting to make herself obvious to Mike and Silver, she crept up next to the doorframe and took a whiff. “Cheese?” she whispered to herself. The smell had never been here before...

    Keeping her place, she eavesdropped on the conversation ahead:

    “Your pilot might be out, could be a bad thermostat, hell, might just be the circuitry. That shit’s old. How old is this place again? 60 years?”

    “About that,” Silver replied.

    “Yeah probably aged components. Igniter, too. That’s a common culprit.”

    “How much money am I looking at spending here?”

    “Pshhh... I don’t know yet. Maybe a few hundred, maybe a little more depending on the size and scope of the problem.”

    “That’s about what I thought.”

    Mike then sniffed the air. “What... what’s that smell?”

    “Um... I’m sorry, uh, Quinn and I made fondue last night...”

    Cecelia’s hands beamed to her left breast and right thigh. They nearly slapped her skin they landed so quickly. She squeezed and bent a little at the knees, the idea of taking on Quinn’s shapely physique suddenly very attractive. And not to mention... fondue... thinking about becoming such a thick, warm, delicious liquid threatened to reduce her to just that.

    “Ah, I assume it went well?”

    “Very... I love Swiss cheese. It’s so versatile.”

    Cecelia’s revving mind deafened her to the conversation. A wedge of Swiss, a full round of Swiss, a supersized wheel of authentic Swiss cheese... that’s what I wanna be, oh, cheese, I want to be chee— Conscious of the speeding voice in her head, she snapped herself out of it, but not without a pinch of longing to shirk her work. She knew she’d have to can those kinds of thoughts for now, but damn, a few quick morphs would be heavenly.

    “Hi!” chimed a flushed Cecelia after slipping out of cover. The heads of Mike and Silver turned to face her.

    “You’re a little late,” said Mike, tapping his watch. “Anything going on?”

    “Yeah, uh I’m sorry I was just really sluggish getting out of the house this morning... my bad.”

    “Okay. Try to stay on time. Your client is a friend of yours here.”

    “Mhm...”

    “So I need you to head to the basement and check out the furnace once you got the gas turned off. The problem we got here is that it’s on for like a half an hour and then cuts out, only to turn back on again an hour later. Probably a timer issue but do the best you can. I got another job to take care of a little down the road, should be back within two-three hours or so.”

    “Alright.”

    “Ok, good. Be back soon.”

    Turns out it was both the fault of timing components and the igniter.

     

    Δ

     

    One goodbye to Silver, another job, six hours, and what felt like an eternity later, Cecelia arrived back at her abode. Her body glowed with pent-up energy. She rushed inside and sighed in relief, returned to her domain, the area of safety where she could shapeshift without fear of being caught in the act. Taking a deep breath with a wide, open-mouthed grin plastered on her face, she leaned onto the fridge and willed her every orifice to leak a creamy, white liquid. It started with just a few drips, but before long she was an array of flowing faucets. “AaAaAhhh, ohHh, aaauhhhgh...” Cecelia moaned, her human body finally giving way to the unyielding ecstasy and collapsing into the puddle below. Soon, the entire tile floor of the kitchen was covered beneath dairy milk.

    A few ripples slid across the lactic lake that was Cecelia, bouncing off the baseboard. A faint whine emanated from her surface, barely even detectable to anyone around. She was warming, her euphoria increasing with her temperature. But she couldn’t remain in one form for so long... she needed to... shift...

    The milk undulated and practically jumped off the floor as a pseudo-solid blanket. Puddles were squirted onto the tile from the parts of her that peeled into the air; her body had clustered its sensitivity in pods within itself, causing micro-orgasms whenever those spots moved. However, the milky mat was quick to condense into a white blob that proceeded to grow a triangular point, rounding off the area opposite that point and flattening the two facets between. The remaining two sides widened in angle as they roiled like boiling water, a pale yellow spreading across them as a few bubbles formed on the surface. Whenever a bubble popped it would invert into a crater and smooth itself out beyond any trace of unevenness.

    Her point widened to become more like a chisel tip to render Cecelia a wedge. Her body calmed, increasing its density and shuddering to inanimate stillness once her semi-hard firmness was achieved. Two tendrils then reached out, rocketing up to the oven handle to retrieve a dish towel. She wrapped the towel along her curved rear side and her two triangular surfaces, pressing it against her body from the inside out. The tendrils retracted as the towel finished converting into vivid yellow wax that fit perfectly on the newly christened Swiss cheese.

    “Mmmh, mmm, mmmhmmm!” Cecelia cried over the incomprehensible pleasure. She bent over herself and partially melted into her own domed holes, swirling within them, but when even that wasn’t enough to satiate her she let go of every strand binding her to solidity and splashed into a small puddle of fondue. The wax vanished into Cecelia’s viscous new form, but her astronomical elation granted the strength to peel up from the ground, only to squash herself back down in a rapidly moving cycle of self-kneading. She folded and squished, sometimes launching drops of melted cheese in unpredictable directions as climaxes, until she could continue no longer and painstakingly grew into a gooey, sticky, half-cheese-half-human mutant of herself, groaning as she laboriously unstuck herself from the quartz snare she’d ended up adhered to. “Ohhh fuuuccckkk...”

    Maintaining a solid state of matter had quickly become a tall order for Cecelia. With every motion, every alteration, seismic aftershocks of her sexual revelry impeded her recovery to her native form. The strings of cooling cheese restricted her movement, and dealing with this issue was now much tougher than normal.

    Cecelia’s head turned to read the oven’s clock. 3:35pm. Enough time to nap before dinner. Trudging to the armchair a few feet away in the living room, the exhausted young woman crashed onto its cushions, closing her eyes and resting her hands in her lap. Within minutes she was semiconscious, and she could barely feel herself changing. Replacing Cecelia on the plush seat was Quinn, the metamorphosis injecting the final drops of exhaustible arousal into her brain. After only seconds of fondling her breasts and teasing her thighs, her every muscle went limp, and her mind filled with light, ethereal haze.

     

 

     

    Cecelia doesn’t need to be morphing at work, especially because of how it cost Silver and Mike valuable time.