Lindsey returned to the nearest common area of the Play Box, slightly disappointed.  The particular show she had attended was not to her taste, and she regretted the time wasted.

Although, she didn't remember the line of boxes up against the wall.  That was new.  She looked it over from across the way, noting that some people were also interested, while others were not.  There were stacks of them, five high, and about ten across.  They were of various sizes, and as she watched, a woman talked with the man leaning up against the boxes, then stepped into the only person sized one.  She did not come out.

Curious, she strolled over and approached the bored looking man. "So, what's this?" she asked.

"Hey there, girlie," the man replied with a thick drawl. "This here is something I wanna call my Slot Machine, except it's got no moving parts." He pointed at the far box into which the woman had vanished.  "You step in there, and then the magic happens."  He retracted his hand to poke it against Lindsey's neck. "First, yer head gets chopped off.  Then her arms," he pointed at her shoulders.  "Then yer chest," he made it clear what that meant, "Then yer hips.  And then yer body gets scattered through the boxes at random." He made a sweeping gesture along the row of boxes. "Then, some handsome young feller comes along and goes, 'I wanna that, and that and that, and he picks up the parts he wants, and they go off and do whatever they want."

"And the men?"

"Oh, that's next week," he replied. "My sister will be here to run it then, keep things fair, you know."

"Is your sister in there?" she asked.

"Parts of her, catchen' my drift?"

"I do," Lindsey agreed. "So, I just step in?"

"Yep.  Oh, it's gonna wreck your clothes, dressed like that," the man indicated her bikini that draped down over her chest. "Wanna take it off first?"

Lindsey did just that, pulling the top of the bikini over her head, and letting it all fall to the floor, where she kicked it to one side. "Any idea how long I'll wait?" she asked as she opened the door.

"Not long," the man assured her. "You will be asleep until someone opens your box."

"Cool," Lindsey said as she stepped in, letting the door close behind her.  Before she had a chance to wonder what would happen next, there was a sharp pain in her neck, then nothing.

It was a series of confusing sensations as she came back to reality.  She knew that she was in one piece again, she knew that everything was going to be alright even as the young man in her sights pulled back, hands dropping away from her head. "Hey," he said.

"Hello," she replied. "Am I everything you wanted?"

"You are," he said as he stepped back, allowing Lindsey to examine her new body.  Her arms were olive, perhaps from some Mediterranean woman, the fingers thin and more flexible than she was used to. The replacement chest was larger as well, the rounded globes barely constrained by the white silk bra. Her hips now were dark, very African. She gave her thin hips a wiggle, noting to herself that she was far more used to her own wide hips and inviting gap.  The slim skirt did little to hide anything of importance. Finally, her new legs were unfamiliar, but at least close to her native skin colour. A red ribbon around one thigh was the only indication that they were someone else.

"So," she said as she finished her self-inspection. "I think I have everything in place.  Do you want to inspect me more completely?"

He didn't need to be asked twice.  His inspection was very probing, and very deep of her new body, and Lindsey enjoyed it all, her borrowed body parts almost having a mind of their own - or at least muscle memory if her hips were anything to go by.

When at last they were done, Lindsey kept herself pressed against him. "So," she said through deep breaths, "Do you have anything else planned for me?"

"Should I have?" he asked.

Lindsey frowned.

"Sorry," he said without a hint of apology. "I just wanted a good lay, and you provided," he finished. "If you want to leave, go right ahead."

Disappointed, Lindsey did just that, walking out and found herself near the man room.  With no where else to go, she returned to the man with the strange accent and his boxes. "Hello again," he said.

"Any limits to the number of times I can go in?" she asked.

"Only your patience," the man replied. "And truth be told, yer not the first lady to come back looking for more."

"Good," she replied as she stepped in. "Maybe this time I'll hit the jackpot."