Helping Lindsie Out (Complete!)

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Helping Lindsie Out (Complete!)

Postby Mollaw1w » Sun Mar 05, 2023 1:27 pm

PROLOGUE

June 30th, 2018 was Lindsie Rounds’ 38th birthday. She spent it alone in her small, crummy apartment in the middle of town, a single candle flickering in the darkness on top of an ice cream cake she'd bought at the grocery store earlier that day. While she reclined on her couch, staring mindlessly at the ceiling, the cake sat on the kitchen table next to an unopened bottle of champagne. The expensive bottle was a gift from one of her more recent boyfriends. He was a much younger “man”—barely out of high school—who had dumped Lindsie after they'd slept together four times. Right after the fourth time, he promptly told Lindsie he had “grown bored with her.” His loss was what Lindsie thought to herself whenever she got in a mood about it. She got in a mood about it pretty often.

I happened to feel especially bad for our friend Lindsie on her birthday, a day that’s supposed to be fun. And before you ask, it’s not because of how she spells her name. See, she tries her best: works hard, pays her bills, gets along decently well with others, is not a criminal or anything like that, and yet she has nobody in her life. No family (estranged), no true friends (beyond the occasional acquaintance, to be fair), and obviously no man (she’s very desperate on that front). I mean, it's really sad if you think about it. She just doesn’t stand up for herself, and that’s because she doesn’t believe in herself that much. And so, out of the goodness of my heart (and because I wasn't doing anything else), I decided I’d help her out.

At this point you’re probably wondering who I am, and the answer is pretty complicated. I’m not some guy you’ll ever meet or talk to under normal circumstances. I'm something far greater than that; someone whose existence goes beyond what people like you can understand. I’m powerful, almost too powerful, and I can do whatever I want. Yes, I know how ridiculous all of this sounds, but don't worry about me. I'm perfectly sane. Well, at least as sane as an extra-dimensional being can be. Hah! All you need to know is that I’m somebody who usually sits on the sidelines and stays off the field, but for Lindsie I’ll lace up my cleats and step up to the plate. Why her? Don’t worry about it.

Operation Save Lindsie begins the next day when she gets to work. I should establish that she’s the “executive special assistant” to the CFO of a major corporation in the area. It's actually a respectable gig that pays well, and she’s responsible for making schedules, dealing with paperwork, answering the phones, typing reports, and taking notes during all meetings. Her job is basically a secretary on steroids, but she always liked the weight of the title. Her boss, an energetic, handsome 20-something wunderkind named Sam White, is nice enough for a guy she has to interact with constantly. Being a very hands-on type of executive, he doesn’t ever make the hyper-competent Lindsie do his job for him.

Anyway, once Lindsie arrives at her desk for the first time as a 38-year-old, I spring into action. But first I need to actually get on her level, so to speak; I need a human avatar. There’s a multitude of employees in her company I could borrow for the task, but none of them are right. They're either boring, obnoxious, stupid, or all three. So instead, I go with one of the interns: a college junior by the name of Angelica Caldwell. Angelica is far and away the most popular girl in the office, and that’s definitely because she’s a gorgeous young blonde who dresses to impress. She looks particularly great today, wearing a tight white dress and matching stilettos and that draws all the attention to her long, toned legs and slim figure. Her golden hair was worn up in a sleek, practical bun, and her lips were coated in an eye-catching cherry red gloss. Sure, she was a smart business major and definitely deserved her internship, but her beauty got her over the finish line when applying, not her brains. That’s why the oafs who ran the place (minus Sam) had her fetch copies and files all day instead of doing anything serious.

It’s never a difficult process when I decide to “be” somebody for a period of time. In this case with Angelica, I just focus really hard on her while she logged onto her computer and then soon enough I am the one looking at the screen with my perfectly-manicured hands on the keyboard. Her soul—is that what humans call it?—went haywire once it realized it lost control, but that’s normal. After a few more hysterics, I tighten the screws on it. Within seconds, her “soul” has faded away, gone completely… at least for now. I’ll make an exact copy and hand said copy the keys to her body once I’m done. But for all intents and purposes, there was only Angelica Caldwell’s body with me inside.

“Who made this password?” I say quietly, testing the vocal cords. All clear; her voice was soft, with an air of confidence to it. The password was 7x8!ye9@wq$6, by the way. I obviously didn’t bother typing it, since Angelica wouldn’t be doing anything associated with her internship today. She was my intern now.

Standing up at her desk in the corner of the almost clinical office, I briefly stretched before making a beeline for the hallway elevator. Right now I’m on the third floor, while Lindsie is on the 16th. Strutting around in heels was a lot tougher than I remembered, but it was a momentary struggle. Her body fit me like a glove, but then again I never had problems when I decided to walk amongst humans as one of their own. I was about to open the glass doors to the hallway when I felt a quick tap on my shoulder.

Turning around, I saw another one of the interns staring at me with wide, perplexed eyes.

“Uh, Angelica…where are you going?” She asked me. “Weren’t we literally just about to start working on press releases?”

Luckily for me, erasing a soul doesn’t erase memories. I had full access to them and was able to figure out that this girl—Jean—and Angelica walked in together and planned to get to work right away.

“I have to use the bathroom,” I lied. But Jean and my memories both immediately told me that was the wrong lie.

“Um, alright, but you asked me if I had to go a few minutes ago,” she said, brushing her shoulder-length brunette hair out of her face. “Are you okay, Angelica? Did something happen?”

I gave Jean a good hard look. She had an attractive face, with soft brown eyes and high cheekbones. Like Angelica, she was well-groomed and wore makeup that accentuated her features. Unlike Angelica, though, she was much more casual with her attire. With her button-up shirt tucked in, jeans, and flats, she definitely dressed for comfort and not for style. Oh, and her glasses were very nerdy.

“Angelica? Are you…gonna answer me?”

It would be naive to assume that Jean had genuine concerns. I was being told by Angelica’s memories that Jean was desperate to be friends with the much more respected intern. Episode after episode of Angelica heading home early or (truthfully) using the restroom or going to another floor or getting food never unfolded without Jean noticing and insisting on tagging along or knowing what happened. It was pathetic, honestly. And worse yet, Angelica had always been too nice to tell her off. They were attached at the hip, pretty much, although only one of them enjoyed it. It’s only natural, though, that someone like Jean would cling to someone like Angelica.

But “natural” wasn’t beyond my pay-grade.

With a mere thought from me, I changed Jean. Her makeup was gone, and the frames o her glasses were rounder, bigger, and thicker. Her pant legs merged and turned her jeans into an ankle-length denim skirt, while her blouse changed into a thick sweater. Invisible hands tied back her now-frizzy hair into pigtails as her nice flats were now plain black sneakers. As her clothes covered more and more of her body, her otherwise normal posture became closed off and her demeanor dulled, matching the sheer modesty of her appearance. She put on some weight for good measure, losing the air of body positivity she had a second ago.

“Uhh, hi… I guess? Um…hi?” she said, blinking rapidly. She stood there absolutely frazzled. “I-I didn’t m-mean to bother y-you…sorry, um…”

This new Jean looked like she was about to start crying, and that’s the whole point. I made her ridiculously shy. For her whole life, Jean—Jeanie, as everyone called her—was a meek, quiet girl who did everything she could to avoid human interaction. New memories of obsessive reading, doing schoolwork religiously, and spending so much time alone took hold in her mind. Her relatively outgoing, passionate persona was erased, leaving behind a sad, timid little mouse. Jeanie has never bothered nor would never bother a thing, Angelica included.

That was what I wanted.

Without even having to speak to her again, Jeanie scurried away and took a seat at her desk, shuddering. That was fine by me. I strolled up to the elevator, called it, and got in once the doors opened up. It was finally time to see Lindsie. Fucking finally.

END OF PROLOGUE
Last edited by Mollaw1w on Fri Mar 10, 2023 7:34 am, edited 6 times in total.
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Re: Helping Lindsie Out (Prologue)

Postby EFHRJ » Mon Mar 06, 2023 2:57 am

I think you called her Lindsey at one point.

But okay, interesting prologue, curious to see where this goes.
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Re: Helping Lindsie Out (Prologue)

Postby Mollaw1w » Mon Mar 06, 2023 6:27 am

EFHRJ wrote:I think you called her Lindsey at one point.

But okay, interesting prologue, curious to see where this goes.


Fixed!
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Re: Helping Lindsie Out

Postby Mollaw1w » Tue Mar 07, 2023 9:12 pm

PART 1

The first person I saw when the elevator doors opened was Lindsie. She was working at her modern standing desk, typing away at her keyboard and splitting her gaze between two monitors. There was a narrow hall from where the elevator and opposite hallway were to where Sam White’s office doors were, with Lindsie acting as a gatekeeper. The lighting on this floor was essentially all natural with the walls being mostly window. As soon as she noticed me, a look of exhausted surprise crossed her face. Her mouth fell open, and she looked like she wanted to say something but couldn't decide on an appropriate response.

"Do you need something?" She asked inquisitively. Her eyes focused on the badge around my (Angelica's, but you get the point) neck that read "INTERN" in bright red letters next to a headshot photo. "What are you doing here?"

Her confusion wouldn't help matters, so I took to the liberty of eradicating it. "You called me up here," I said, calmly. It was true: an email was sent to Angelica Caldwell's boss by Lindsie requesting the intern come to her immediately. In fact, I went back and even made it so Lindsie had a habit of calling up new female interns every once in a while for chats, so that this wouldn't seem so out of the blue. It was just something she did.

"I called you up here, yes, but do you know why?"

"No," I lied. "I don't."

"Well, you'll find out soon enough. Follow me."

Emerging from behind her desk to lead me down the hall, I finally got my good look at Lindsie Rounds today. Upon seeing her like this, a creature of her profession, I knew Lindsie Rounds was a weak woman. An insecure woman. A lonely woman. The kind of woman who was constantly looking over her shoulder and felt compelled to protect herself from others. She was a fighter but a fatigued one. That's how I knew she was my target.

But let's take a step back and talk about what the naked eye sees, shall we?. Yes, I have seen her many times in the past, but now I have seen her through human eyes. Given her age, she was attractive, sure, but not breathtakingly so by any stretch. She’s a little bit on the plump side, but I've been told that's how most women look in their 30s. It does make me wonder if they think men are attracted to these things or whether they simply don't care as long as they get some action. But that’s besides the point. Her figure was more shapely than not, with particularly prominent breasts that almost demanded attention. She had nascent wrinkles and aging skin, though it wasn’t too noticeable with her makeup. Her small, tired gray eyes were a sharp contrast with her otherwise round, unremarkable face. Her cropped brown hair was just a little disheveled, but not overly messy. The beige pantsuit suit and matching pumps she wore were pretty plain, but then again, Lindsie Rounds isn't known for her flair, is she?

“Where are we going?” I asked Lindsie as we strolled passed the elevator down the other end of the hall. I watched her ass swag back and forth while also taking time to look at the pictures of the former CEOs. There weren’t that many.

Lindsie didn’t look back at me. “To talk. There’s a lounge up ahead, it should be empty now.”

Sure enough, when she opened a sliding door on the wall, there was nobody inside. It was a small white room, with a few circular tables, chairs scattered about, and a vending machine against the back wall. I walked in with Lindsie and took a seat at the farthest table for the entrance.

“As the highest woman in the company, I feel as though I have an obligation to speak to as many young women who spend their time here as I can,” she began, taking a very frank and but serious tone. “I want you to know first and foremost that you can work your way up the corporate ladder, especially if you play your cards right. It can be done.”

There’s problem number one: our friend Lindsie takes herself waaaaaay too seriously. If you want to talk about corporate ladders, she’s pretty much cling to it so hard because if she falls off, she’s dead. Nobody wants to hang out with someone whose personality is their corporate shell. That’s why I immediately made another change: now Lindsie was a run-of-the-mill member of middle management, only promoted so that a woman would be in some leadership job. Gone was her stern persona; she now looked far more relaxed and inviting without the deep-seeded angst. Her clothes also shifted to a more casual white blouse and slack to go with higher heels. Bye bye special assistant!

“However, I'm afraid that I have a lot of bad news for you as well,” she said, settling into her chair and crossing her legs. She sat upright and straight, forcing me to do the same. “99% of men you meet will be sexist pigs. Got it? They patronize us and put us down. I swear if they actually respected my work I’d be in a way higher position right now.”

There was still anger within Lindsie, but now it was more channeled, less internalized. That’s anger that will make you friends.

“Yeah, absolutely,” I said, going along with her words. I was barely even paying attention to them.

“It’s a miracle those assholes even let me use this room for meetings. But anyway, you need to learn to deal with this crap. You're not the first woman to experience it, nor will you be the last,” she continued on, leaning back in her chair. “But listen, you seem smart and you’re definitely pretty, so I’m not worried about you. I’m worried about that girl…Jeanie? The one who’s too scared to hurt a fly? She’d never survive, even in middle management.”

Oh, poor Jeanie. But we’re focusing on Lindsie. The more she spoke, the more I got tired of her boring short hair. So I fixed it. Lindsie now had perfectly straight blonde hair parted down the middle that extended past her shoulders. I made her a natural blonde too, just so she could save money and time on getting her roots done. The style was way nicer to look at; she looks so much better. She's more relatable. More approachable. She doesn’t look like a bitch anymore. Probably because she took good care of her hair, her makeup was also more pronounced. She also got thinner somewhat.

“You barely know me though,” I said, just trying to keep the conversation going. “How do you know I’ll be fine?”

“Angelica, you can always tell. It’s just so obvious who the winners will be,” Lindsie declared. “They work on themselves as much as the do their work for others. That’s the secret.”

Well, she was sure sounding more like a winner.

But then it started. A weird thing happened with Lindsie: she started to get all hot and bothered. I mean, she was blushing and glancing down at her lap. This wasn't a normal reaction, and I had no idea what to make of it.

I’m kidding, of course. I made her gay as hell. Closeted, of course. And I made it so the real reason she would meet with Angelica would be to be alone with her. After all, rewriting Lindsie’s life as a lesbian does her a huge favor with all of her terrible relationships with men never happening.

"Angelica…” she began, breathing a little heavier. I could see her nipples get harder under her blouse (which she now didn’t have buttoned all the way) and bra. Those high cheeks she had flushed red.

“What?" I asked innocently, smiling and putting a hand on hers.

Lindsie's body tensed up. She pulled away from my touch. "Uh...nothing. I guess I'm just nervous," she answered, acting like nothing was wrong. “I-I didn’t think…”

I moved in closer to her. My head was almost touching hers. I had to lean over to speak directly into her ear.

“Relax. I won’t say anything. I wanted this too,” I whispered. “Why don’t we see each other tonight? Dinner at 7? The new place on Grover Avenue?”

She shivered. I could feel her breath on my cheek. My words were enough to convince her.

“That sounds great,” she finally replied. “It sounds great. ”

And with that, we left the room in silent understanding. Little did Lindsie know she left that room as a way better person to look at and be around, but there was still work to be done. She was a moderately good-looking lesbian office worker who was more friendly than not, but why stop there?

I returned to Angelica’s desk, and let her mind autopilot me through the rest of my day. I looked over at Jeanie a few times, snickering at her fear of doing anything. She’d be fired within the week. I made some changes to ensure that her supervisor would indeed let her go. She’ll land on her feet…I hope.

But my top concern was dinner later. Not that it was a concern at all. Lindsie was getting a treat.

END OF PART 1
Last edited by Mollaw1w on Fri Mar 10, 2023 4:53 am, edited 4 times in total.
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Re: Helping Lindsie Out (PART 1 is up)!

Postby pinkhippo99 » Wed Mar 08, 2023 5:43 am

This is getting interesting. Our mysterious narrator seems to have some unique ideas about what constitutes improving someone's life.
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Re: Helping Lindsie Out (PART 2 is up)!

Postby Mollaw1w » Fri Mar 10, 2023 4:52 am

PART 2

The “new place on Grover Avenue” was an American restaurant that just opened called The Smitten Pig. Tucked on a street corner, its interior was decorated in all black. The walls had white tiles that were textured, and the tables were all dark wood. The lighting was dim enough that it made the space cozy. A long bar was set up with a few tables scattered throughout the space. There was a small stage for live music, which would prove useful later. The place was one of those casual, modern establishments where the dress code is informally formal; you wouldn’t go in a suit or cocktail dress, but you wouldn’t think to go in a boring shirt and jeans either. So as a result, everyone dressed fancy to be safe. I had recently made a trip there as another human, and I loved it. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.

It was a nice summer night, so the restaurant was busy. I, of course, booked us a reservation, so that didn’t matter, plus I arrived well in advance.

When Angelica’s shift was over, it only took me about ten minutes of walking to arrive at the apartment complex she was staying at for the summer. The apartment was pretty cramped, but it was nice—nicer than Lindsie’s, even. Unfortunately Angelica didn’t have a lot of fancy clothing options in her small closet. But that didn’t really matter because I already knew what Angelica would wear anyway. I made it so she went on a shopping trip two days ago to buy “the dress:” a low cut, off-the-gshoulder maxi with a dark green hue. It was short and tight, and hugged her body flatteringly. She did have a pair of ankle strap heels, which added a nice height to her frame. I kept the sleek bun, added to the makeup, put on dangle earrings, and grabbed her clutch . And, obviously, she wore her favorite perfume. Couldn’t forget that.

Back to the table. Around 7:03, I spied Lindsie being escorted by the hostess to my table. And man, how my changes have helped her! She had on a knee-length blue dress with white piping across the collar and hem. The fabric was thin enough that you could see the shape of her chest through it, which made her pale skin almost glow. Her blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail, and her smoky eyeshadow gave her a more sultry look. Her more vibrant smile was only exacerbated by her lipstick’s pink tint. Throw in the hoop earrings, bracelets, and gold necklace, and she was looking really good for her age. She had to, given she was on a date with someone more than a decade her junior. Weird.

“I see you held nothing back with the outfit tonight,” I told Lindsie. “Fashionably late?”

“Mmm hmm,” she purred, nodding as she sat down. “I wanted to impress.”

I winked, really selling it. “I gotta say, you succeeded.”

As if it was perfectly timed, a waitress came to our table to take drink orders. She was a tall, skinny woman, probably in her mid-twenties. Her red hair was pulled back in a high ponytail, with a few wisps hanging around her face. She was wearing a simple black dress that fit her figure nicely, showing off her flat stomach and lean legs. Her breasts were a little too big for her body, but I wasn’t complaining. If you can’t tell, I enjoy the sight of beautiful women.

"Nice to see you two tonight. I’m Amber,” she began. “So what'll ya have?"

“A glass of Chardonnay, please," I said. "And then she'll have a glass of Pinot Grigio." I did my thing to make it so those options have always been on the menu.

Lindsie looked at me like I was crazy, ordering for her. But all I had to do was make a few tweaks to her reality so that she was the person who liked that sort of thing. It didn’t change much of her past, but I did add one particular night out with a college roommate, and feeling an odd surge of arousal as she made their collective order at some bar. Lindsie realized she loved being treated like that.

“Coming right up!” Amber said, waltzing away.

It was subtle, but I caught Lindsie steal a glance at Amber’s ass swaying with every step. I noticed the way her eyes lingered on her curves before they quickly returned to mine. I didn’t mind at all, of course. There was nothing wrong with Lindsie’s more unrestrained impulses. Before I came along those were barely let out of the cage.

“That girl is hot,” she blurted out after a while of watching her go. Of course she would never say that without me turning her into a “say what she thinks” person. She’s now got a history of letting out things that should have been unsaid.

“Pardon?” I asked, pretending to be flummoxed. “Lindsie, we’re here…together!”

She just crossed her arms under her boobs and looked down, embarrassed.

“…sorry. I’m…sorry.”

“Don't apologize,” I replied. I reached under the table and caressed her thigh, feeling it jitter to life. “We're here to have fun. What you said was completely natural."

"Really?" She glanced at me, unsure.

I nodded. "You don't need to pretend with me anymore. Not like that. And whose to say Amber doesn’t feel the same way about both of us?”

"What? What are you talking about?"

"Well, she's not so bad, right? She seems to be enjoying herself, serving us."

"Yeah, she does," Lindsie mumbled. Then she turned to me again. "But why...why would you think that?"

"Because I just know these things.” I smiled, rubbing my thumb across the top of her leg. Her eyes widened in surprise as her breathing got heavier.

"How?" she asked, sounding genuinely curious as my hand crept up further.

“I just do. It comes naturally.”

Moments later, Amber was back with our alcohol.

"Here ya go!" The petite redhead—the object of Lindsie’s threesome fantasy—cheerily plunked a wineglass and small bottle in front of each of us. “Do you two need another minute or so with the menu?” she continued innocently enough before finally realizing that by this point I was teasing Lindsie’s clit. She paused, glancing between the two of us with a nervous look on her face. I watched intently and enjoyed a moment when the synapses sparked in Lindsie brain—a brain that I had changed extensively over the past minute—that linked arousal to desire and it was on full display: goosebumps formed all over her upper arms as her chest rose up with soft, fast breaths. It was intoxicatingly hot how obvious she reacted to my deft pleasuring, and how obviously mortified Amber was. I could tell she wanted to rush off, but that’s when I went ahead and made some changes to her reality. First, the redhead thing wasn’t for me. I made her hair black to match the dress, her skin pale as can be, and her makeup an ensemble of black and purple on her eyes and lips. Throw in some more piercings (notably noses and lip rings), lewd tattoos, and an assortment of gothic jewelry, and she was a far cry from the cheery server we had a second ago. I touched up her features, and gave her curves a boost to accentuate her dark beauty. I even gave her a new, self-given name: Raven. Raven was a horny, dumb, bisexual porn actress, whose day job was being a terrible server; the minute she saw myself and Lindsie enter, she had to be at the table of the two hottest women here.

“Why don’t you two come with me?” She said casually, speaking in a new, more edgy voice. If nothing else, she sounded very sexual. Very much a slut who desperately craved hard cocks shoved down throats or bouncing tits pressed against hers.

Pointing towards the exit with my finger inside Lindsie’s pussy, the two of us got up and followed Raven out of the restaurant, the stares of everyone inside be damned. The city streets were loud and bustling outside, but time seemed to stop. None of us said a word as we got in a taxi and Raven directed them towards her apartment. Things were a blur in the taxi and in the building until we entered the dark, candlelit space that served more as a shrine to some Wiccan goddess than anything. We were led to a large bed in the middle of the room, where Raven giggled at the sight of her own hands spread out on either side of Lindsie, who was shivering with lust.

“Now,” Raven said, purring with delight. “I know this is what you wanted most of all.”

Pushing Lindsie onto the bed, the two kissed and stripped until their bodies were bare. Then, I saw Raven push Lindsie down, kneel behind her, and humped her ass raw. Lindsie let out a squeal with every slap of their skin. After a bit, they at last, they came together and moaned, loudly, both squirting. I noticed Raven motioned me to join them, and so I did. Why not have a little fun with this body? After first licking Lindsie clean, I dove into the pile of cum and orgasms. Raven held back tears as I ate her up, moaning with pleasure, while Lindsie grinned widely at the sight. We took turns offering our services, giving the non-giver and non-receiver a sight to masturbate to.

This went on and on. It’s safe to say Angelica never had this type of action before. But hey, anything for Lindsie!

END OF PART 2
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Re: Helping Lindsie Out (Complete!)

Postby Mollaw1w » Fri Mar 10, 2023 7:34 am

FINALE

Fast forward a week. Now Lindsie was a much more a approachable, sexually liberated woman. Plus, she was easier on the eyes. Her and the cliché goth Raven had become a secret couple, which was fine by me, since I didn’t want to get Angelica entangled in anything. I left her body and replaced her soul the day after the threesome. Sometimes, during these days between visits, I felt sad. A part of me would hate leaving something beautiful like a sexy body. My goal had been accomplished…mostly.

Lindsie was enjoying her job a lot more, since her personality favored the challenge of having to prove her worth instead of maintaining it. She had a girlfriend to keep her company. But she wasn’t well-liked by all. People didn’t bother with her, still, which was a shame. And that’s where I had to finish the job.

So here we return to that whimpering nerd Jeanie. She was my next vessel, and I can assure you her soul didn’t resist me vanquishing it. Once I was fully in control of her body—she was reading Gloria Steinem on her bed on a summer Saturday—I kicked my plan into motion on Monday.

At work, I acted just as Jeanie would for the first part of the day before heading over to the stairwell. Going up one flight to Lindsie’s (new) floor, I headed right over to her cubicle. There were three people there: her boss, another coworker, and a temp. They were busy talking about something when I walked past, pretending to ignore them. When Lindsie looked away from her computer screen, she caught sight of me standing nearby. I smiled and waved at her.

"Hey!" I shouted cheerfully. "How's your morning going?"

She turned around slowly, looking confused. The other coworkers stopped mid-sentence and stared at me.

“Mom? It’s me,” I said. “Your daughter Jeanie? Earth to mom?”

With those words, Jeanie and Lindsie were now daughter and mother. I could feel Jeanie’s features change, becoming more like her Lindsie’s. She stood a little taller and had fuller hair as a Rounds girl, but she was still a geek. Her memories completely changed too, but that’s not important. What’s important was that Lindsie now gave her daughter attention.

“Oh, what is it honey?” She asked me, warmly.

“Are we ready to go home?”

Another change: Lindsie was now a housewife, visiting the office where she worked before having Jeanie with her ex. She was now wearing an oversized dress, making no attempt to hide her voluptuous mom figure. Not only that, the smile on her face made her look younger than she actually was. This was perfect; I really liked how happy she looked.

“We are, dear,” she told her child (me). “I need to be getting dinner started soon anyways.”

And then I was gone again, replacing Jeanie’s soul. I was all done. A few final changes made Lindsie a nice, charming housewife whose income came from Jeanie (who now worked full time) and cuts from her secret girlfriend Raven’s videos. It was a fun little adventure solving Lindsie’s problem: now let’s hope she can keep her life together.

THE END
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Re: Helping Lindsie Out (Complete!)

Postby Awokenchange » Fri Mar 10, 2023 7:49 pm

thanks for sharing
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