Trust Machines - Support Group
"Hello everyone.  I'm Karen."

The circle of people in the room echoed back, "Hello, Karen."

"And I'm a transformaholic."  Karen was a little taken aback at the reaction from the group - many of the supportive looks had turned frosty.  Still, she plowed ahead.  "I love turning people into clothing, and wearing them for a few hours, or a day, however long they're willing to be changed."

An older woman harrumphed, and stood up.  "Young lady, this is a support group for victims of the Venn Machines, not for those who get their jollies from them."

"Victims?" Karen asked, puzzled.  "But everyone knows how the machines work.  You can be turned into anything, and can turn the other person into anything...  What?"

"Everyone knows that now, yes.  But many of the people here were first changed before they knew just how radical the changes could be.  Harold, why don't you share your experience?"

A fortyish man with greying temples and a crumpled demeanor stood up as the others took their seats.  "Hi, I'm Harold."

"Hello, Harold," echoed the others.

"I was in the mall shortly after the first of those damn boxes appeared here, and ran into my ex-wife.  For once she was kind and chatty, and we had a nice lunch together.  Then she suggested we try to rekindle our relationship by changing ourselves to the age we'd been when we met.  It sounded like a good idea, so I agreed.  The next thing I knew, I was lying on the floor of the booth, wondering what had happened.  It wasn't until she'd picked me up and started eating me that I realized that she'd turned me into a chocolate bar."

Karen gasped in shock, as did a few others in the room.  Murmurings of support came from all around, and Harold sat back down.  The woman next to him touched his arm sympathetically.

"What was it like, being eaten?" Karen asked, drawing stares and glares from around the room.

"Terrifying.  I thought it would kill me."

"You look OK now, though.  So obviously you survived."

Harold nodded reluctantly.  "I still can't look at a chocolate bar, and seeing someone else eating one gives me the shivers.  I used to love chocolate," he grumbled.

"Did it hurt?"

"Well... no.  You would think being bitten in two would, wouldn't you?  I could feel all of it, the breaking, the grinding, the melting.  It wasn't painful, but it was incredibly confusing at first.  I could taste myself as I melted, and that's when I knew what she had done.  As I dissolved in her stomach, I could taste her lunch, too.  My mind faded away around then, I thought I was dying."

"Then what happened?"  Karen leaned forward in her chair, fascinated.

Harold shrugged.  "A day later I appeared next to my ex-wife, while she was trying on a new dress.  Right inside the changing room with her.  Oh, how she yelled.  I got tossed out of the store, and I don't think I'm welcome back there any time soon."

Karen laughed.  "Oh, I bet she was embarrassed."

Harold managed a weak chuckle.  "I think it was the surprise.  I had seen it all before, after all.  That, and disappointment that I was still around."  He sighed.

"Sounds like she was a prizewinning bitch," offered Karen.

"Something like that, yeah."

"What if..." mused Karen, feeling out the idea, "What if someone offered to do the same to you again, but to make it as sensual as possible?  Turn a terrifying experience into a positive one?"

The harridan who'd interrupted Karen before was livid.  "What are you suggesting?  That's a horrible thing to say to someone who's in pain!  You should apologize at once!"

Harold shook his head.  "No, Lucy, it's OK.  I've been coming here for months and it hasn't really made much difference.  As much as the idea scares me, it... well, if a horse throws you, the thing to do is get back on, right?"

"We're not talking about horses here, we're talking about demonic machines that can twist your body into unnatural forms!"  Lucy was very agitated.

A young woman in rumpled clothing stood up, stopping Lucy's impending rant and drawing everyone's attention.  She looked barely out of her teens, and if she'd had a chance to clean up, she might actually be pretty.  "Hello, I'm Danielle."  

"Hello, Danielle," echoed the group.

She held her hands out to similar-aged women to either side of her.  "And these are my new friends Tracy and Stephanie.  We met earlier today at the landfill."

"The landfill?" asked Karen, puzzled.

Danielle nodded.  "We all appeared there after three months as pairs of nylons.  We all got suckered in by the same woman, we think.  She offered to help make us look prettier, if we'd make her prettier in return."  She laughed sourly.  "We kept up our part of the bargain by looking sexy wrapped around her legs.  She wore us each once, then tossed us in the garbage."

Again, there were murmurings of sympathy and support around the room.

"That's terrible," said Karen.  "What are you going to do now?"

They looked at each other, and shrugged.  "We don't know.  Our jobs are gone, our apartments too.  That's why we came here, to get help getting started again."

"Oh, you poor dears," clucked Lucy.  "I'm sure we can help you with clothing and such, but I'm afraid our residential space is a bit full at the moment.  I think the soup kitchen down the street lets people sleep in the cafeteria at night..."

Danielle sniffed, and gripped the hands of her friends more tightly.  "If that's all we can get, it'd be better than sleeping on the street."

"I'm sure something will turn up."  Karen smiled at them sympathetically.

The meeting went on in much the same vein.  The others had been going to the same group for a while, though none quite as long as Harold.  Many of them admitted that their problems were rather smaller than those who had gone first, but each was still encouraged to share their tale and their progress if any.

Cary had spent a weekend stuck as a girl, not realizing that he could have changed back into himself at any time.  His 'friends' had dumped him off at a local brothel, and he still wasn't willing to talk about how that had worked out.

Quite a few of the others had spent brief stretches as clothing, and one as a purse.  Most of them said that their friends had done it by 'accident'.

After a few of those, and the looks they'd directed her way, Karen protested.  "I never did that, everyone I changed was told ahead of time what I'd change them into, how long I would wear them, and how I would care for them.  I've never put anyone in a washing machine, they all get hand-washed and dried flat on a towel, no wringing."

"You never changed anyone unwillingly?" asked Lucy, skeptically.

"Well..."

"AHA!"

"But it was just an accident!  We were trying out the Venn machine for the first time, and I tried to change her outfit, but turned her into a dress instead.  I didn't even realize what I'd done until I saw her there on the floor of the machine, and I changed her back right away!  Then she wondered what it would have been like to be worn, for just a little bit.  So of course we had to try, and I only wore her for like ten minutes at first, then changed her back.  But she decided she liked it, and I kind of did too, so one thing led to another and... well, she spent weekends in my wardrobe for a month.  But then she hooked up with this guy, and now they're together all the time...  My other friends think this is too weird.  Well, everyone except Jenny."  She patted her jacket affectionately.

"You're... wearing someone, right now?" choked Lucy.  "Out!  Out!  I should have chased you off at the start, to hell with what our guidelines say."

Karen sighed, and made her way out of the room.  She was sitting in one of the benches in the hallway feeling sad for herself when she felt someone sit beside her, and a hand slip into hers.  She looked up, and blinked away a few tears.  "Danielle?"

Danielle asked softly, "Do you really take such good care of your clothes?"

Karen nodded.  "I've never had any complaints.  Jenny says that my hand-washings feel better than a good massage."

"We talked about it after the group ended, and... we'd rather sleep in your wardrobe than on a soup kitchen floor."

Karen's face lit up.  "You would?  Oh, that would be lovely.  I'll take wonderful care of you, really I will."

"We'll want to be human some of the time, so we can find new jobs.  We just need somewhere to stay to get started."

Karen nodded.  "Of course.  If you decide you like the job of dress or purse, though...  I think I can find some space for you in my organization."

Danielle giggled.  "That depends on how good those hand-washings are."

Karen got up and hugged all three girls.  "Are you going to be OK with this?  You were stuck as pantyhose for a long time."

Tracy spoke up, "For all those months in darkness, I just had one regret.  That I wasn't being worn."

"Me too," added Stephanie.  "Can I be your nylons?  I promise I won't run."

"Oh!" Karen exclaimed.  "I was going to suggest anything but that, just to... you know, avoid the trauma."

A masculine voice spoke up from behind her.  "Sometimes the best thing is to get back up on the horse that threw you."

Karen spun around.  "Harold?"

Harold nodded. "Is that offer you made still open?"

"I...  You'd actually want me to do that?"

"It still scares me.  But I think it's time to face my fears like a man."

"Then it's time to head to the mall, I guess."

* * *

A week later, Karen slipped into the same support group shortly before it was due to end.

Lucy spotted her immediately.  "You!  What are you doing here?  I told you to leave."

"And your boss has invited me to start another Venn support group.  It's scheduled right after this one."

"Oh.  I was wondering about that.  Fine.  But what did you do with Harold?  He didn't come back this week."

Karen grinned.  "I ate him."

"WHAT?"

"I turned him into a little piece of chocolate, then I teased him with my tongue, and let him melt on my lips, and then..."

Karen tilted her head back and mimed swallowing an invisible piece of chocolate, making it into a sensual performance that had a few of the males in the group sweating.  She patted her tummy softly when she was done.  "He loved it.  So much so, he asked me to do it again.  I think he has a crush on me."

Lucy just shook her head.  "You are insane.  And my time is up.  The room is yours."

Karen smiled, and walked to the chair that Lucy vacated.  "Hello everyone.  My name is Karen, and I'm here to tell you that there is nothing to be afraid of from the Venn Machines."

She waved to Danielle, who had waited by the door until Lucy had left.  Danielle entered, and spun about briefly to show off her dress.

"This Danielle, and Tracy is her dress.  Just last week they got back from three months as nylons that had been tossed in the garbage."  Karen spun about, showing off her own pretty green dress.  "And I'm wearing Stephanie, who'd been through the same thing.  Tracy and Stephanie both volunteered to be like this, and they're happy in these forms."  She shared a smile with Danielle.  "Especially when they get hand-washed."

"Now I know, all of you have been through unpleasant experiences with the Venn Machines.  It doesn't have to be that way.  In the right hands, the experience can be wonderful.  Any volunteers?"

Epilogue:
A fortyish woman lounged in her bedroom.  The house was empty, quiet.  Despite that and the late hour, the woman was still wearing her best makeup.  Peeking out from her silk robe was a flame red teddy.

She softly counted down, "Five, four, three, two, one."  Without a sound, Harold appeared on the bed beside her.  "Hi sweetie.  Welcome home."

Harold stared at her, eyes widening in surprise then in lust.  "I love you so much."