Melanie to Melodee (Chav, reality change,DG, AR,BE)Part 2 UP

[fragmenter]

This story is part of the BigMystique universe and takes an incidental character from their story “It’s only temporary” and imagines what happens to the main character Tabitha’s sister Melanie, whilst Tabitha is being altered. I liked exploring how the ripples of Tabitha’s new reality affected her sister.
Enjoy and make sure you read the original story too.

https://thechangingmirror.com/phpbb/viewtopic.php?f=11&t=10437

Part 1.

Melanie is sitting in the school hall and dance studio of Huntley Middle school where she is a year 5 form teacher and teaches Maths. It is one of the meetings she holds each term where she meets parents.

She has lightened ombre brown hair that moves to a subtly golden blonde at the tips, her hair is slightly wavey and worn down. She has a yellow baggy cardigan over a loose-fitting white t shirt with a high round neck. She is a size 12, 5ft 10in and has a modest 36b chest, her skin is pale, and she is lightly made up, but not enough to cover her light freckled complexion. She has brown tortoise shell glasses to compensate for her long sightedness that seemed to come on with all the studying she did as a teen. She has a small pearl necklace and single pearl studs in her ears, she is so committed to her pupils and realises that this is a difficult age for them when they are 10 or 11, support and intervention now can make all of the difference to them. She puts in long hours trying to support the parents and the kids. She is 28 but is so conservative in how she dresses she looks early 30’s

https://imgur.com/a/dmZq8ek

She is dating Richard, 35 an accountant with the housebuilder Bovis. They have been dating about 2 years and are about to get engaged and move in together. They are very aspirational and a typical middle-class couple, with dreams of settling down and thinking in the future about starting a family, but under no desperate rush. Melanie’s career is especially important to her and so is the profile of the school in the estate she teaches on, she loves all the organising of the school fairs, charity fundraising. She also runs a dance and movement class in this very hall after school for the pupils. She is well on her way to becoming a pillar of the community. She adores her younger sister Tabitha and really supported her through college and into her time at university.

The desk she is sitting at is positioned at the edge of the hall adjacent to the wall hung, dance mirror. She always liked sitting there for meeting parents as she could see them come into the room through the opposite door and did not need to turn around, she could spot them approaching with a sneaky side glance in the mirror. It also meant she could check her hair was free of stray hairs without getting out her purse mirror.

She was just getting ready for the final appointment of the day, waiting to see little Jazz Parker’s mum Lucie about her daughter’s increasingly poor attendance, spending ages with her trying to ensure that her chaotic homelife could be calmed to allow Jazz to concentrate in class better, Lucie was typical of a lot of the mums on the estate. A single mum of 26 with two kids the oldest of which at 10 was the result of a childhood pregnancy. Both kids have different fathers and Jazz the eldest is mixed race. Jazz has so much potential but needs to be encouraged by her mum but Lucie is not much more of a kid herself and works hard doing nails at the VanityVale beauty and hair salon on the parade of shops. The kids are not getting enough support and unfortunately this is starting to affect Jazz in class. If only Lucie would spend more time thinking of her kids and less trying to look like she had just walked off the set of “Love Island”. If she had her way, she would ban that program as most of the mothers all that that Love Island look about them.

Not for the first time Lucie was late and Melanie glanced down at her plain leather strap on her Apple watch; 6pm, she sighed. If Lucie didn’t hurry up and get here soon, Richard would be along to collect her in his company Lexus in a few moments. She had arranged for him to come over and cook dinner tonight, he was a great cook and with a bit of luck he would stay over, they could have a snuggle up and she would do some marking whilst he cooked the meal. What a dream man he was.

She heard the door from the corridor open and expecting to see the long blonde hair of Lucie walking across the hall she glanced up in the mirror. But instead she saw her Richard’s reflection instead. She did a double take and whipped her head around to look at him face on.

You are so early and “What are you wearing?” Whilst Richard may have worked for a firm of Builders he didn’t know one end of a hammer from the other, but there he was standing in front of her in a builders uniform. Not that builders have official uniforms but he wore heavy industrial boots with scuffed metal toe caps, dusty cargo pants, and around his slim waist was a massive tool belt. He was wearing a Bovis construction T shirt which hung off his narrow shoulders and skinny arms. He looked like he was going to a fancy dress costume as a builder wearing clothes that were too big for him. “you look ridiculous”, she commented.

As he walked across the hall the noise of the metal reinforced boots clicked loudly on the wooden floor, He sat down across the table. She pointed at his get up with her finger, “ What is this and where is your suit that you left to go in to the office today??” He looked puzzled at her “well I was on site, wasn’t I? Not going to wear my suit to a site visit am I?”

As he posed that rhetorical question the strangest sensation or vision of her sister sitting in an office came to her, with a man standing over her. Yet it wasn’t quite her sister, she looked different, shorter, much much shorter and she had big tits, it wasn’t her sister, but then again, the more she thought about Tabitha the more she couldn’t remove the memories of this short curvy woman with her rack always proudly on display.

Just as soon as the vision of Tabitha had entered her head it faded away, gone. She heard Richard speak to her again.

“You know I work on site a lot of the time Melanie”
She reached into her memory, something seemed off kilter, not quite correct, her boyfriend who wasn’t any good a t DIY, was now, as far as she could tell, really good at DIY, always doing jobs around the house and of course when the building crews were short, he often helped out on site. That was completely normal, so seeing him in building clothes was a common thing. How could she have got it so wrong.

She shook her head as if trying to clear a fog or re order memories in her brain.
“you know how short they have been on siter this summer Melanie, it is only right that I help the lads out on site.

She nodded, it all made perfect sense, as she rationalised it, what had initially seemed ridiculous now felt surprisingly normal.

This summer they had been really short on the construction site and he had been working so many days on site, it was true and whilst she knew she had been moaning that he was more of a builder than an accountant and it wasn’t right. She glanced at him and realised that the all the days he had worked this summer had given him such a deep dark tan. His hair looked different to when she’d seen him yesterday, his conservative cut and deep dark natural brown colour looked different. She looked at it, a deep high fade leaving him with no hair at all below his ear line and ultra-short on top with bleached blonde tips. The longer she looked at it the more familiar it became. It was a typical style amongst the 20 something year old lads on the site. He hated having long hair doing such a sweaty job.

As much as she knew that Richard was a rough working class lad, she was still ambitious for him. “You need to make sure that they don’t take advantage of you working on site and you need to get back to your bookkeeping course and try and get off site, for when we get married”

Then that vision of Tabitha came back into her head, she was still sitting in an office with the same guy sitting in front of her and this time she could see a laptop….he was moving sliders across a screen and oh when he moved the slider in the vision the pain in her own head became real. She rubbed her temple. “Please make it stop, its killing me”

The pain eased for a fraction, and she tried to hold onto the original thought, the desire, the hope, that Richard could get off the building site and get into the office.
But then the pain hit her in the head again and that desire evaporated. Rich had been a builder since they met, that memory was so clear to her now. She looked at his upper body which now filled the tight T shirt. Her boyfriend was very muscular and loved gym work and lifted weights and to be honest it was something that she liked about him from when she first met him working on the extension to the teacher training college.

Her friends thought they were such an odd couple Rich the 19 yr old builder and Melanie the trainee teacher but she loved his body and that mattered more than anything else to her. She had encouraged him to bulk up through the 4 years that they had been together. Working on the sites and gym work had certainly done that.
Tattoos now swirled around his massive guns up giving him two full sleeves and then went around his chest and then exploded onto designs that wrapped around his neck and extended down onto the top of his hand. A single diamond ear stud fired into his left ear. Memories of the vanilla skinned Richard faded.

“Richard…something seems really weird, like something isn’t right but I just can’t put my finger on it”
“Richard??? Who do you think you are my mum??” he laughed at her “It’s been Rich since we met”
She shook her head again.
“Something is wrong, something doesn’t seem real.”

She noticed the last rays of sun fading through the hall windows and suddenly longed to be outside again in the warm sun. She rubbed her neck and could almost feel the warmth of the sun on her skin, she looked across at her reflection in the mirror. She expected to see her usual pale freckled skin but the skin she saw reflected back at her was a deep dark bronzed tan. A tan cultivated by Mediterranean holidays, weekly sun bed sessions and topped up with fake tan.

Rich …. look at my skin what’s happening to me?

“What do you mean?”, looking at the deep bronze colour he loved, “it is always like that”

She felt a momentary flash of fear as he seemed so oblivious to something so different. But the more she tried to hold that thought the more it seemed so utterly bizarre that she’d ever thought that. She’d knew she’d always loved to tan, why would Rich think anything else?

She looked down at the round neck of the t-shirt under her cardigan. The white scoop seemed to be dropping lower and lower as she watched it, random thoughts raced through her head. I can’t wear this top, it’s too low and what will the other teachers think, its not professional, its too cheap looking. She felt an urge to adjust her cardigan to cover up and to give her a more respectable look.

She stared down at the small cleavage that the scoop neck revealed and realised that it was much bigger than she remembered, she blinked, and it seemed bigger again, she glanced sideways at her reflection, her breasts were an obvious addition to her side profile and then glanced back at her cleavage. Her cleavage was now deep and her breasts rode firmly on her chest in the way that silicon implants do.

Her white ribbed top was now cut to below the level of her nipples and proudly showcased her 36E boobs. They looked bolted on and we’re beautifully spherical. She took off the Cardigan and realised that the loose fitting t shirt she thought she’d put on was actually a very tight ribbed top that clung to her chest wrapping under her boobs and was fitted tight on her chest and down to her waist. The clingy fabric showcased her assets, and why not? £3000 for a boob job at 19 and who wasn’t going to show them off. It wasn’t that being 36B was that small, but more that being skinnier than her sister had meant she had never had Tabitha’s huge rack and she was jel of her little sister. So with some of Rich’s bonus she had had them upgraded. Rich was a tit man and willingly paid for them so she proudly supported the sort of boobs that were obviously fake and a bit trashy but she loved them.

The vision of the guy with the slider came back into her head. She could see the pain in her sisters face, she looked unhappy like something bad was happening. She saw the man gesturing to her and moving the slider on the laptop again.

The movement of the slider corresponded with a further pain in her own head pain. “Rich……what is happening? She put her head in her hands.

End of part 1

[etenme2]

What a great idea. It's going to be interesting going between both stories.

[audipwr87]

Wow! What a brilliant idea! Your writing style perfectly compliments BigMystique's and I can't wait to read more!

[fragmenter]

Wow! What a brilliant idea! Your writing style perfectly compliments BigMystique's and I can't wait to read more!

Thanks so much Sean, you know exactly what I think of your writing so encouraging comments like this , truly make my week.

Moll xx

PS. I must get around to finishing the Seven sins of Carrie, that we started. So little time, so much to do.

[audipwr87]

Wow! What a brilliant idea! Your writing style perfectly compliments BigMystique's and I can't wait to read more!

Thanks so much Steve, you know exactly what I think of your writing so encouraging comments like this , truly make my week.

Moll xx

PS. I must get around to finishing the Seven sins of Carrie, that we started. So little time, so much to do.

Yes!! I've been wondering about that story but I know like my own life, things get crazy and hectic, especially around Christmas/New Years!

[fragmenter]

I was so pleased to see that BigMystique had posted Part 5 of their amazing story "It Is only Temporary". So as promised, as they chart the changes in Tabitha, across town the ripples are affecting the world of her loving teacher sister Melanie. Part 3 will follow when BigMystique finishes their story. As before, the character names and situation are down to BigMystique but the story is 100% from me. Enjoy xx

Part 2
Her head felt fuzzy, she was unsettled by the changes to her bust and her new skin tone and was becoming genuinely scared at what was happening to her and her boyfriend.

She knew she had to get some reassurance and guidance, she realised she needed to talk to her father, Daniel Beckett. He always knew what to do, he’d always had the answers to any questions she’d ever had in her life. He’d encouraged her to go to university and make the sacrifices necessary to be a teacher and move up to Manchester and away from her beloved Surrey. She reached into her bag for her phone and scrolled through the contacts to his number.

As she scrolled, struggling to find his entry, she thought about him, visualised his gentle wise demeanour and his calming influence. Willing him to save her from this bizarre dreamlike situation. Back in Surrey, he owned a chain of garages and car showrooms, he was a pillar of the community, a Town Councillor, and a Rotarian. He had an extensive address book and whatever the situation he always knew what do, or if he didn’t, he knew someone that did. He’d sort out what was happening.

But she thought again, something felt weird, something didn’t feel quite right about that memory. The more she thought of her dad, the reliable Mr Beckett, the harder it was to see him as being a real person. The visions of the other man sliding the scale on the machine and Tabitha strapped in the chair broke through into her subconscious and forced out the earlier memory of her dad. It felt like she was now in the room with Tabitha or rather this new weird, short, fat, chavvy version of her sister. The vision was so clear it was as if she was there alongside her. She could get close to her, almost touch her. In this dream, she looked at her sister’s face, and she marvelled at how different she looked with the thick layer of makeup and her dark false lashes. She looked younger too, certainly not 25 anymore, the study bags under her eyes had gone, her face was smoother and 19 was about how old she looked.

But was she 19? Melanie trawled her memories, and she could distinctly remember Tabitha’s 18th last year and how drunk she had got and how she had ended up throwing up outside a club on the high street and how she had held back Tab’s hair as she knelt on all fours and puked in the gutter. Dutifully doing her older sister routine and looking after her. But then she puzzled, so she knew she was 3 years older than Tabitha, so how could Tabitha be 19 unless she was also just 22. Born in 2001 or 1995? As crazy it might have seemed, there was no way she could accept she was born in the last century, so it must be 2001. This was the weirdest vision if it ended up with her getting younger. If only Melanie had taken the opportunity to look at her Driving Licence in her phone case, she’d have seen that it confirmed her birth year as 2001 and her place of birth was now Oldham.

She looked again into her sister’s eyes and felt she could almost sense a growing connection, as if this vision was real and as that thought hit her, she watched her sister’s mouth drop open, some drool ran from the corner and her eyes rolled back in her head. Then there was that sound, the sound of sizzling and now it was now in her own head too. It got louder and louder so she almost couldn’t think. It hurt and kept on building within her head.

Melanie lost the dream like connection to her sister and increasingly felt uncomfortable within her own body. She twisted and squirmed in her seat. As she did the old memory of her dad, of Daniel Beckett, began to crumble and fade. She felt puzzled, confused as to why her Dad was called Beckett, that wasn’t his name he was a Bailey, he was Danny Bailey. Suddenly she felt really stupid, how could she get something so basic, so obvious, that wrong, everyone knew she was Danny’s eldest. Her dad was known all around the estate, this estate as well, not down in some right posh place in Surrey. Her lived experience felt so different now, it was changing, he was respected sure, but it was a very different sort of respect to that she’d previously believed was true. She clutched at memories through the sizzling sound in her head. Yes, yes, he still was a salesperson, a type of trader for sure. She clutched at loose strands of memories that were slowly coalescing into a new truth. Yes, she had it now, a dealer of course, but not of cars, it was drugs. He was a feared and respected drug dealer. In an out of prison since she was a child, she couldn’t find him in her phone because he was inside doing a stretch for intent to supply.

He was Danny Bailey and of course she was Mel Bailey, she felt stupid for even doubting her own identity. As much as he was a criminal, it was all she had ever known and she adored him and his confidence, his arrogance, his distorted moral compass, and those opinions now coursed through her veins and coloured her attitudes. That attitude had been instilled in her from birth and all through her school. She always got what she wanted, Danny saw to that, and she turned that fear they all had of him to her own advantage. If anyone dared to cross her, then Danny sorted it. It started at infant school, where bikes of kids that had annoyed her got stolen or their parents’ cars got scratched. By secondary school if any lad looked at her weird or dissed her, he’d find his bag of weed costing a bit more or if she fancied it, she’d get Danny to have them roughed up or pushed in the canal. Everyone knew you didn’t mess with a Bailey and Mel used that to her advantage. She was a confident bratty little bitch and when she decided she had to have breast implants for her 16th he’d arranged it, with a Turkish surgeon. The same surgeon who later gave her a white veneered smile.

As that memory hit her brain and combined with the second boob job that Rich paid for she could feel her chest expanding and pushing her body away from the edge of the table where she sat. She slowly took her hands away from her face. And allowed her lowered gaze to settle on her massive tits, straining against the fabric of her white ribbed top. They were, she clutched for the appropriate description, her brain trying to retrieve words like grotesque and ridiculous, but all the thoughts that now flooded into her consciousness were of looking gorgeous and sexy. Of wanting and getting a body to flaunt and to use. Memories of being objectified and idolised, the desire to be a trophy for Rich and all his many predecessors exploded in her brain. She felt her body changing as it aligned with her sister’s transformation at the hands of Tim in the diner. An inner heat welled up inside her, and she twisted and turned on the seat. Her height dropped from 5ft 10in to 5ft 2in as her hips filled out and she began to inherit the same physical body type as her sister, short, curvy and thicc. Her tall willowy body was becoming history. She was now a size 14/16 and probably a size 16/18 on her top half.

She looked down at her hands and noticed she now had false acrylic nails on her fingers, pink and French polished, an inch long and with squared off tips.

“No no no”, she shouted as her ombré hair lightened and lightened until it was a bright brassy blonde, with a dark root line. She looked up and into the mirror and noticed that the soft dusting of make-up had given way to immaculately layered contoured foundation, her eyes were heavily made up and she wore long thick heavily curled Russian lashes that gave her a sultry look that was less classroom and more set for a night club, or an Instagram pose.

Through her half-closed lids her eyes were drawn to her lips which had lost their gentle natural shape and subtle definition of the lip line. They were now so filled that they resembled soft pillowy pads surrounding the semi open pout of her mouth. They were glossed with pink wet look lipstick. She gently explored their new shape with the tip of her tongue opening her mouth slightly in a way that seemed bizarrely familiar to her and ran her tongue around her lips as she tasted the gloss on her pout for the first time, she realised her tongue was now pierced. She felt the bar that ran through it as it gently clicked against her white veneered teeth.

She stood up in shock, knocking the chair back and staring at her changed appearance in the full-length mirror.

“No no no, what’s happened to me?”. Her white top had reformed into a white tight ribbed short bodycon dress, with a zipper running down the front. The zip was undone slightly at the top of her deep cleavage, enticingly showing off her boobs for everyone to see. The zip looked like it was under immense strain holding her melon sized tits within it. The fabric was so tight over her chest you could see the outline of piercing bars running through both of her nipples. She gasped as she realised how she was now pierced so intimately, The Lycra rich fabric of the dress clung to her narrowed waist and then flared out over her larger curved hips before ending on her orange tanned upper thighs. On her feet were expensive looking white and gold Nike trainers. She realised that despite her initial thoughts that she looked ready for a nightclub the trainers indicated that she was actually dressed, as what she would now describe as casual, for every day trips to Asda or to the school.

The appearance that had seemed so shocking was also reassuring familiar. She looked like all the other 22 year olds from the local estate that stood at the school gates, gossiping, vaping , often with buggies in tow as they dropped off their kids each morning. It was a look that she realised was both sexy and yet so cheap and brassy. She ran her manicured hands over her flared hips and onto her thicc heavy thighs, Ok, she rationalised, she was overweight for sure, but certainly not obese, every extra pound she carried made her curvy full figure even sexier. She’d become like every young mum whose kids she taught, rough, a bit chavvy, very blonde and definitely a bit of a mouthy bitch. She believed she was still a teacher, but she was also one of them now, just like them, their social equal, with similar tastes in fashion, sex and in men.

The physical similarities between the girl in the office that her sister had become and the reflection of the woman she saw looking back at her were now very obvious.

But Mel knew something was seriously wrong and tried as hard as she could to remember her life as it had been, as she once knew it. But the old past was becoming lost and now in addition to memories of being Danny Bailey’s girl, memories of her mum, the woman who was a GP back home in Surrey, seemed to be in a state of flux. She could no longer visualise her as a GP, she couldn’t even conceive of living in Surrey, she was an Oldham girl. When she thought of her Mam, she saw a trashy woman with peroxide hair and over inflated lips and boobs, someone that looked like a 40-year-old version of herself. The memory of her was at once familiar and solid, rather than the intangible fading memories of a cultured Surrey doctor. A person that rapidly was becoming a stranger.

She shook her head, her bleached tresses flicking across her bare shoulders and across her face, trying desperately to loosen the new memories that were taking hold. She grimaced and cried out in what was now her native gravelly Manchester accent, “But I’m a teacher like, this shit ain’t real, this ain’t me life.”

She looked across at Rich sitting next to her. He looked different again, like he’d continued to evolve, whilst she had been distracted by starting at herself in the mirror. He was even more bulked up, he now had a massive barrel shaped body builder’s chest with tree like muscular arms covered in bulging veins, his neck was now short and thick, and the trapezoid muscles formed a triangle shape that ran down to the top of his shoulders. She looked into his face which had changed subtly, it looked harder and less welcoming, a scar went across his left eye, and then more deeply onto his cheek, like he’d been bladed in a fight. It made him look harder, scarier and she had to admit a lot sexier. He was no longer a pretty boy, but thuggish and rough looking. His nose was a touch broader and his skin a shade darker, he now looked mixed race, but then she felt confused, he’d always been mixed, hadn’t he? His hair, still in a fade was now jet black with a short tight wiry Afro on top. The boyfriend she’d been certain was a builder just a few moments a go and who had been her accountant fiancé earlier that morning was now just her current lover and one of her dad’s enforcers. A man who saw her as a personal possession, a trophy and objectified her and protected her.

He looked up at his trophy girlfriend, laughed and said, “You’se a teacher? divn’t make me laugh lass, sit down ya daft bitch and wait for real teacher t’ turn up” .

Her head ached, she saw the visions of her sister in the chair with the dildo being pushed and pulled out of her mouth and then the sizzling feeling in her own head started all over again.

End of Part 2

Incidently in my head as an image for what Melanie is turning into are two Social media influencers
Emily Ward for her attitude, sassiness, brazen sexuality and physical build https://www.tiktok.com/discover/Emily-Ward-twitter?lang=en
DollyMix for her boob size, eye rolling and her lips https://www.tiktok.com/discover/Itsdollymix
Enjoy exploring their world, because it is Melanie's world now

[Maon]

I'm looking foward to read the third chapter, whenever it comes. Thank you for the great story.

[twilightsputnik]

Looking forward to the next chapter Moll awesome work so far:)