Girls At Heart
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Recustomization free porn video
Recustomization
by Alice Kramden
Bill looked at his iMac as he idly surfed yet another webpage. Having
sent out a huge batch of applications the other day (which in this day
and age basically consisted of a lot of clicking on various forms and
controls inside webpages), he now had the dull experience of waiting to
see which fishes nibbled -- if any. The economy of America was not
exactly at its best, and he found with the low amount of money in his
pocket, life wasn't quite as much fun.
As far as Bill was concerned, the day would have mostly consisted of a
lot of webpage surfing, plus perhaps a few routine tasks that he had set
for himself to accomplish that day: feed the cat, rip a few of his DVDs,
make a little more of a dent in THE HOBBIT.
Except that's really when Bill's view of the world cracked flat in
twain, as he heard the voice of God.
And God said:
"This situation smells as bad as me horse."
And darkness came to Bill, as he thought, "God's Scottish?"
* * * * *
And darkness receded from Will, and as it did, he thought he heard God
say, "That be fixin' the situation."
Will looked around his apartment. And briefly thought about
antipsychotics and a 911 call.
And thought about it even more as he found his body getting up without
his direction, walking out of and locking the apartment, and walking to
his mailbox. He pulled a small box out of his mailbox. He walked back
to his apartment, grabbed a pair of scissors from his drawer, and slit
the box open. And felt his body loosed from whatever force had driven
it.
Inside was a tall greenish-gray stack of paper. One that was just about
the size of ... Will reached into the box and pulled loose one of the
pieces of paper.
Which turned out to be a $100 bill.
Running his finger along the stack, Will was pretty sure there were
hundreds of these bills in the box. Lots and lots of hundreds.
A few moments later, disbelieving, he realized he had made a mistake.
There weren't hundreds.
There was a thousand.
Meaning his finances had just improved by the level of about a hundred
thousand dollars.
* * * * * *
Will nervously brought the money into his bank, but the teller, for some
reason, didn't bat an eye. As if it was perfectly natural for Will's
account to have this money.
With great joy, over the next few days, Will found himself clicking away
at his computer as he settled credit card debt, tax bill, and student
loan alike. And bought himself movers, a new apartment in the rich
section of town, and plenty of nicer duds and doodads.
In a few days, Will found himself looking out the window on a gorgeous
view of the city skyline. He'd still need to find a job, but this was
one *hell* of a lot better way to ride out the recession.
And that's when life got a bit more fucked up.
Because that's when Will heard God's voice thunder from the heavens
again.
And God said:
"This be much more fun, but I know what I be doin' next."
* * * * * *
Will blinked as the sunlight streamed in over the skyscrapers, shining
on his prone form on the carpet. Morning had dawned, and he wasn't
quite sure what had happened.
But he did know what he had to do. He had to get to the beach. This
sunlight wasn't best enjoyed indoors, after all.
As he got up, it was curious he didn't notice something.
Will had been a large man for most of his adult life. A LARGE man. The
kind of man to whom Santa Claus would sidle up and go, "You know, fella,
the 'bowl full of jelly' thing isn't really a goal you want to aim for
at your age."
This fact made it a nearly ludicrous improbability that Will could get
up in a body that was a normal adult human man's weight and not even
notice the difference.
* * * * * *
William hit the elevator button for his new building's parking garage.
A guy stepped into the elevator. He acknowledged the man's presence,
giving the usual nod-greeting which most guys give each other.
Strangely enough, the man didn't just nod back, but brightened a bit,
gave him a "hey", and started to engage him in a conversation about
where he was off to that day. A bit weirded out, William pulled his
black leather beach bag a little closer to him and engaged only in the
minimum of conversation, not wanting to give the wrong signals to this
guy.
After all, William reasoned, although this man showing an interest in
him meant he must be gay, he wasn't gay himself. He didn't find the guy
attractive at all himself. Granted, the man's flat abdomen and muscular
arms did catch his attention a bit, but that must just be an admiration
at how well the man had developed himself. William's arms were scrawny
in comparison. They were far too thin.
William did find himself chuckling a bit at a joke the man cracked, but
soon found himself getting off and heading towards his brand new black
BMW M6 Coupe, and a few moments later, he was navigating city streets en
route to the south side of the city. The denim shorts he had put on
prior to leaving felt a bit tight ... it constrained his bulge quite
unpleasantly, and rode up a bit on the seam of his leg. But it did let
the air stream over his legs quite nicely.
* * * * * *
Willem pulled into the parking lot for the beach. Fast cars always
impressed, and the glint of the sun off the cherry red skin of his BMW
M6 Convertible made him a noted presence of those walking through the
beach's parking lot as he pulled in. He enjoyed the attention as more
than a few tanned beach denizens looked in his direction, giving him
approving nods.
It didn't seem at all utterly bizarre to Willem that the brief ride down
to the beach in his convertible had seemingly caused melanogenesis and
melanin-darkening to happen at a rate heretofore not yet seen in nature,
turning his skin from the pale wispy-haired white-pink it had been into
a completely bare, smooth, deep tan that went all the way up to -- and
presumably under -- the dark blue Speedo Willem was wearing, which
showed an almost obscene bulge quite nicely.
Willem didn't seem to get a lot of looks from the ladies despite the
tight Speedo, however -- he looked with some disappointment at his body,
thinking it really needed a bit of development to be a more attractive
package. His attention wasn't drawn as much to his underdeveloped
(though richly tanned) arms or his legs -- in fact, his legs in
particular seemed quite fine -- long and sculpted. His pecs, he
decided. That's where he'd work on. His pecs really needed to be a bit
more developed, needed to stand out a little more.
And maybe see if he could spot-reduce his ass a bit as well. Not that
he'd admit it, but as he walked towards the beach to get some water on
his skin (already getting a bit baked from the sun streaming down), but
it felt as if there was a little more jiggle in the back of his Speedo
than he'd really like.
* * * * * * *
Wilhelm dove into the water, feeling the cool water coming from the
ocean in one fell swoop cool him down. It did introduce a new
complication, however, as he soon found his head getting tugged a bit
unpleasantly. Shoot, he thought, I was in such a hurry to cool down, I
didn't even tie it up, and now it's going to be a mess.
Getting to his feet, Wilhelm fussed all of his long brunette strands
into as much of a tidy state as he could, and dove back under the
surface. He let the cool water cool him off, but the purpose of the day
was mostly to sunbathe, so he switched directions in the water and
headed back to the beach and his beach bag, which a kind-looking older
gentleman had offered to watch. The man's fatherly figure, which had
towered over Wilhelm's diminutive frame, just struck him as the
trustworthy sort.
As Wilhelm walked out of the surf, he adjusted his Speedo as discretely
as he could. The boys felt a bit weird down there, but he didn't want
to appear ...
* * * * * * *
... unladylike.
I definitely have to get a better fitting monokini, Wilhelmina thought.
This one was far too tight on her hips than she was used to, although it
did cup the cheeks of her perfect ass just right. She was the daring
sort of girl, so it even rode low enough in the back to show off a bit
of her coinslot. She tittered a bit: girls had it so lucky. What could
look awful on a man inspired Tex Avery wolf whistles when seen on a
woman. At least, on a tanned, blonde woman like her. Heck, I could
probably pick my nose and men'd be fighting over the boogers, she
thought, and giggled.
Well, not entirely. Wilhelmina had gorgeous, wide hips, long legs, a
wonderfully melanoma-free tan, a swaying stride, and hair down to her
perfectly-shaped ass ... but there was, of course, the one ingredient
she didn't have, which caused a lot of boys' glances to slide right past
her despite all those attributes. She once saw a similarly-endowed
comedienne joke about *her* AA's as "precious rare miniatures," but
hell, Wilhelmina thought as she looked gloomily down at her near-flat
chest, for all the "girls" that I have, it's like puberty took an end
run around my chest. It's just not fair, she thought. It's just not
fair ...
* * * * * * *
It's just not fair to the other girls, Willa thought smugly. Rich as
hell, perfect ass, perfect skin, perfect hair, and a big, beautiful,
natural bust that never fail to get the eyes of every guy on the beach.
I've got the complete package.
Sure, her back didn't exactly like her E-cups, but that was the price of
fame. Of course, E's were a bit too jiggly to go completely unsupported
-- Willa looked a bit with envy at those women who had gone topless.
The straps of her bikini top were digging into her shoulder a bit
unpleasantly. My breasts are so sensitive, she thought, that I imagine
the feeling of the sun beating down on them would be just wonder...
* * * * * * *
...ful, Billie thought. There is nothing so cool like going topless and
showing off your tits, Billie thought. Unlike her mom, Billie had never
had a single back problem ... or, gosh, for that matter, even if Billie
put all of her brain (which was admittedly not the most powerful of her
attributes) into it, she couldn't remember being sick a day in her life.
Billie gathered her long hair, which flowed all the way down to her
swaying, beautiful ass, with a scrunchie, a blue elastic scrunchie that
stood out nicely against the near-white of her platinum blonde locks.
As her unrestrained F-cup boobs rhythmically bounced as she made her way
down the beach, her only thought, as she looked at some of the men's
packages that were well-outlined against their suits, was that it'd be
nice if this was a ...
* * * * * * *
... nude beach, Billi thought as she walked along the sands. It's so
much fun to be on a nude beach -- except the problem was that she
usually got so wet as to be a bit obvious. Fortunately, this beach
wasn't quite as prudish as it could've been. Lovely men all around,
some with big, upright poles (and always so embarrassed about them,
Billi thought as she giggled, as if they didn't know that was what she
actually WANTED to see on a man).
She'd even been known to occasionally take home the occasional fattie.
She didn't know why, but her heart just broke a little bit for the pale
misshapen figures who'd be lying on the beach in a white T-shirt and big
ol' shorts down to their knees, always with an atmosphere of strange
loneliness to them. They were always so grateful, it kinda touched her
...
* * * * * * *
Fanar's talkstone vibrated a bit on the table. Tapping a few keys on
his Snowstorm(tm) Gnomish Servo-Mecha-Gam-U-Lator to move his World of
Normcraft character away from where the surf was coming in, he picked it
up and made the appropriate gestures to enact the stone's magical
communication properties.
"Hi! Is this Fanar of the Homran clan?"
Fanar harrumphed. "I'll have ye know, laddie, that me full name be
Fanar, SAVIOR OF THUNDERBREEZE. You know Thunderbreeze -- it be that
city where all ye humans normally be livin'. Seemin' as I helped save
yer city more than once, a bit more respect'd be appropriate."
"Yes, Mr. Fanar, my apologies. This is Thoamos? I'm from Snowstorm
Entertainment Customer Service."
"Aye? Sorry for bein' so curt with ya then, laddie. Please, be
proceedin' with your business."
"I just wanted to reach you to let you know that the recustomization and
server move has been finished on your character, and so you should be
good for gameplay once more. We originally had him as Will, a tenth-
level endomorphic human, Geek class, on the America server; we now have
him -- ah, sorry, her -- as Billi, a tenth-level mesomorphic human,
Bunny class, on the Ameribeach server. Ah, I see that you've already
navigated your character to the Nude Sands of Black Beach, so you're
probably already aware of the changes."
"Aye, but thank ye for calling."
* * * * * * * *
Billi suddenly found herself utterly unable to move. The world went not
black, but gray.
* * * * * * * *
"Aw, damn." The man's tone grew firm, and a bit angry. "Your character
was just flagged by Snowstorm worldguards."
"What ye be talkin' about?"
"Don't try to deny it, sir: the game's completely run by and saved on
servamech game servers, so we can reproduce any state of the game past
or present. Here, I'll replay the proof on your console."
* * * * * * * *
Will reached into the box and pulled loose one of the pieces of paper.
Which turned out to be a $100 bill.
Running his finger along the stack, Will was pretty sure there were
hundreds of these bills in the box. Lots of hundreds of hundreds.
A few moments later, disbelieving, he realized he had made a mistake.
There weren't hundreds.
There was a thousand.
* * * * * * * *
"Sir, are you not aware that World of Normcraft's terms of service
specifically forbid purchasing dollars from buck-farmers in the game?
It causes deflation of the server's economy. We have enough trouble
managing our games' economies as it stands, and that's not even
mentioning the President of America NPC glitch which those
LeperGnomezRule hackers screwed with for EIGHT YEARS before we caught it
... anyway, we do NOT need our own players screwing it up further."
Fanar broke a sweat onto his brow. "Aye, but ... "
"Plus, sir, by doing so, you're helping ninth-world countries like
Goblimmahh continue to oppress their citizens. Do you know the kinds of
lives buck-farmers live? Not pretty ones, I assure you. Sir, do you
deny your character Will received 100,000 dees from ... ah, 'John Smith'
... through the game's postal server?"
Fanar knew the jig was up. Defeated, the savior of Thunderbreeze said
quietly into his talkstone, "No, I dinna deny it. I be sorry: me
character be'd in hard enough times, and the game dinna do much to make
me spirits rise anymore. It all be unfun grinding: quests to send out
so many job applications before the timer runs out, seein' how much food
ye can buy with the least amount of dees: I wanted to take me toon
through some of the more fun parts of Normcraft. Can ye understand?
After a hard day of bashin' heads, I just wanted to have me some fun ...
"
Thoamos' voice, echoing out of the talkstone, took on a note of pity.
"Yes, Mr. Fanar, I can understand. Life's been pretty cruddy all
around, what with the Corpse Caliph doing his thing up in Polarrip
lately. The good news is that Snowstorm recently changed their policy
on this. We're not going to delete your toon."
Fanar's voice broke. "That be great!" Truth be told, he had kind of
become attached to Billi.
"The bad news is that we still do punish gamers. I'm sorry to say we're
demoting your character back to Level Sub-5."
"Eh?"
"Well, you usually start World of Normcraft at Level 1. Not only do we
demote your character back to the start, we push them back a little
further. You can usually game yourself back up to game-start pretty
quickly with enough hard work, but in the meantime, it's not exactly
pleasant environs for your toon. And then, once you're at Level 1
again, you can work on navigating Billi up through the ranks the *right*
way. Mind a word of advice, though?"
"Na, please, say yer piece."
"Bunny class characters are fun to play at the start, but once you get
them past Level 40 they get _really_ limited functionality. When you
hit Level 1 again, I'd try maybe dual-speccing your toon this time
around. Try doing a dual-spec bunny/geek class -- they're usually a lot
of *fun* to play. A lot of the guys here at Snowstorm play 'em, even
the plasma fays, who look gorgeous in real life. Geek Bunnies usually
get the best of both worlds. Of course, you won't be able to set that
up until you get up to Level 1."
"What class be Billi in the meantime?"
"Well, that's the thing. From Level Sub-5 to Level 0, Bunny-class toons
get locked into a spec of ... "
* * * * * * * *
Binki lowered herself upon a slightly pudgy man's monster member,
wincing in significant discomfort, with her poorly-hewn I-cup implants
swinging from side to side as she lowered herself up and down on his
pole, which was stretching her quite uncomfortably.
She owed a hell of a lot to some loan shark. She couldn't remember what
the heck she had taken the money for, but whatever it was, it was all
gone, now. If she couldn't remember it, it was probably drugs. Anyway,
most of her paycheck disappeared each week -- it was going to take her
months of constantly doing this in order to dig herself out.
Still, her business manager, a Ms. Tempesta de Neu, had told Binki that
if she just kept questing forward and forward, she'd be able to dig
herself out of this hole (Binki had giggled at the double-entendre) and
back into a normal life. Maybe even work at something nice and calm and
normal, like a bookstore or coffee store.
In the meantime, though, Binki thought, she wished this guy would learn
to be a bit more gentle. Yeah, frenetic action sold porn, but the
constant pressure of scraping against each other harshly was just not
fun on daintier girls like her.
In a multiplanal coincidence, both Fanar and Binki sighed and said the
same thing at once.
"Man, grinding sucks."
* * * * * * * * *
Author's note: Tip of the hat to the WoW comedy video "World of
Workcraft", which got me thinking about the effects
of the recustomization feature in such an environment ... And a second
tip of the hat to Wyrdey for his excellent and enjoyable stories,
including "The Fake", which got me thinking about new ways of
transforming characters.
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