NEWFOUND HAPPINESS - PART 2 (Patreon)

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Part 2: The Replacement of Mother & Daughter

Bastian clutched his head tightly with both hands, feeling as if the whole world had collapsed. He was deeply confused, not knowing what the right thing to do was. Sometimes, having only two paths makes choosing harder than at a tangled crossroads. One path led straight to a hell with no way back – debts that could never be repaid. This hell could even be taken literally, because after today, he might not still be alive. The other path, at first glance, seemed like heaven. But… was it really so? Would heaven open its gates to someone who had done something so immoral?

He looked at the two skinsuits in Turner's hands, then looked at his father – the man who had once been his idol, now turned into a madman with an incomprehensible ambition – to become a woman.

At this point, Turner no longer cared what Bastian would decide. Or rather, he knew all too well that his son would be smart enough to choose what was most beneficial. He simply draped Tracy’s skinsuit over the back of the chair. He yanked off his old coat, revealing a middle-aged body that had once been a source of pride but had now become nothing more than a sagging mass of flesh, his round belly drooping visibly beneath the faded T-shirt.

“You just watch,” Turner said, his tone dripping with contempt as he slapped his jiggling belly. “Back in the day, this belly had a six-pack, firm and unmatched by anyone in the company, turned heads everywhere. But now? A fat, middle-aged man reeking of booze and cigarette smoke. But today, everything will change.” He picked up Hallie’s skinsuit, his eyes gleaming like a starving man catching sight of a prime cut of Wagyu beef.

Turner pulled the thin layer of the skinsuit up his legs, his movements as decisive as when he used to put on a suit for elegant parties in the past. The skin slid over his coarse, hairy legs, clinging to him as if by magic. When he finished pulling up the lower half, “that thing” of his, still stiff, was clearly outlined beneath the layer of skin.

When Turner pulled the skinsuit up to his belly, things became more difficult. His bloated stomach was blocking the progress of the skinsuit. Still, after some effort, the layer of skin managed to slide over Turner’s belly. Bastian watched his father’s bulging gut vanish, replaced by an impossibly slim, supple waist. Turner burst out laughing, his newly transformed hand sliding along his waist, fingers gliding over smooth, unblemished skin.

“You see that clearly, don’t you? Don’t think I drank myself stupid without a backup plan! Your father was never that foolish! Look at those idiots out there, starving themselves, working out like crazy just to lose a single kilogram. And me? With a single shot, I now have a waistline that countless women could only dream of!”

With that, Turner bent down and continued pulling the layer of skin over his chest. Bastian’s mouth fell open as he watched a full, rounded pair of breasts emerge, so perfect that no plastic surgeon could ever hope to replicate them.

Finally, Turner pulled the rest of the skinsuit over his head. Long black hair fell over his shoulders, shimmering like silk, replacing the thinning salt-and-pepper hair he once had. Then, his entire body began to contract and reshape into Hallie’s exact form. The opening on the back through which he had entered gradually sealed shut. The process seemed somewhat painful, as his bone structure was nearly being reshaped to fit the new body, but the ecstasy completely overpowered any pain Turner felt.

Throughout the entire process, Bastian watched, trembling. When the transformation ended, Bastian was stunned to realize that his father, Turner, had vanished without a trace. Standing before him now was a middle-aged woman with a flawless appearance that many young girls could only dream of.

The woman bent down, picked up the beige pair of panties from the floor, and slipped them on. She delighted in pulling them snugly over her hips. It was the first time she had ever worn such a small pair of underwear, and the feeling of not having any “flesh” in the way was exhilarating. The panties clung tightly to her soft, pink womanhood. For the first time in her life, simply wearing clothes brought her a profound sense of joy.

Next, she put on the silk dress that the real Hallie used to wear. The dress accentuated every alluring curve, from her long, slender legs to her rounded hips. She spun around, admiring herself in the glass door leading to the garden, then burst out laughing, “Oh my God, I’m so beautiful! Goodbye to that ugly man I used to be, now I’m the most gorgeous woman in the world! Men will have to kneel at my feet!”

Bastian stood frozen. He hadn’t expected such vile words to come out in the warm voice of a woman. This was undoubtedly his father, there was no question about it. He knew those crude words all too well. Yet even knowing for certain that this beautiful woman was his father, his mind still couldn’t bring itself to accept it.

Only after she was fully satisfied did Hallie walk over to Bastian. Her legs now wore high heels, her steps light, and her voice as alluring as if played from a record. “You’ve just witnessed your father’s greatest invention!” she said. “This is the body I’ve always dreamed of. No more being looked down on. No more hardship. All I need is to be beautiful, and everything good will come on its own!”

Once again, she picked up Tracy’s skinsuit draped over the back of the chair. She held it up in front of Bastian. “Come now, son! You know what choice you have to make, don’t you?”

The night mist slowly gathered around the silent mansion, for its two true owners had vanished, leaving only the sound of wind rustling through the trees. Bastian reached out to take Tracy’s skinsuit, his hand trembling so much he nearly dropped it. The thin, cold layer of skin in his grasp felt as light as silk, yet it carried the weight of a decision from which there was no turning back.

He looked at the new Hallie, then down at his own body, thin arms covered in scratches from the machine shop, legs aching in tattered jeans. The body of an eighteen-year-old boy wouldn’t be as crude as Turner’s, but there was nothing to be proud of either. A life lived for his father, for debt, never for himself, had aged his appearance by more than a decade.

“I... I don’t know what to do. I mean... I’ve lived as a guy for eighteen years. I don’t know how to be a girl,” Bastian murmured, as if speaking to himself.

The new Hallie curled her lips into a smirk, her sharp gaze sweeping over Bastian. “You’ll figure it out soon enough! Don’t forget, I was a man for much longer than you ever were! And look at me now, I've become a queen! So decide! Do you want to become Tracy, petite, pretty, living the life you’ve always dreamed of? Friends, university, everything. Or do you want to return to that old house and say goodbye to this world before you’ve even lived a third of your life?”

Bastian swallowed hard, his chest heavy. Who in their right mind would willingly choose death? But living on in that crumbling house, under the constant threat of the loan sharks, that wasn’t much of a life to dream of either.

Bastian took a deep breath, slowly pulling off the grease-stained T-shirt. He stood bare in the room, the cold wind slipping through the cracks in the door raising goosebumps across his skin. He stepped one foot into the skinsuit, the sensation of smooth, supple material wrapping around his leg erased every trace of calluses and rough skin. As he pulled it up to his hips, he stared in disbelief, his legs had become slender, alabaster-smooth, free of hair or scars. And even with just that, he already felt lighter, as if his entire body had begun to shed its burdens.

The new Hallie burst out laughing, half-sitting, half-leaning against the back of the chair, one hand on her hip like a true diva. “See? Told you. A woman’s body is paradise. Just keep pulling it up, you’ll feel even better soon.”

Bastian obeyed, pulling the skin up past his stomach. He had always been skinny, his ribs jutting out from hunger, but now his belly was flat, soft, dainty, so much so that he could hardly believe it. As the skin slid over his chest, his face flushed. He felt the gentle swell of small, firm breasts rise up, as light as an embrace. “I… I’m not used to this,” he mumbled, his hand brushing across his breast, heart pounding like a drum.

“Girls need to have breasts, don’t they? You’ll get used to it,” Hallie said, running her fingers through her long, flowing hair.

Bastian pulled the skinsuit over his shoulders, and finally, his head. As it wrapped tightly around his face, a surge of heat shot through his body, sending him collapsing to the floor. It hurt like hell! He shut his eyes, the world spinning wildly around him, and he wondered how his father had managed to endure this kind of pain so easily. But once the storm had passed, Bastian slowly rose to his feet, his hand trembling as it reached up to touch the shoulder-length hair, soft as feathers.

PART 3 >>