D & Double D's 2: Revenge of the Dice! (Patreon)

Trigger #54: The D20 of Destiny

Item Class: A lucky, magic infused D20 I made sure would get to a certain egg in need. It is currently being used as the Wand/Casting Focus of that same fledgeling witch, Bernadette Abernathy.

Transformation Type: TG, WG, Nerdification.

Threat Level: Benevolent. It’s magic can be.. Uncertain due to it’s chance based nature, but Bernadette can be trusted to only use it for good… (and occasional mischief and funsies…) 

Subject: Cecelia Flores, 21, F, formerly Caesar Flores 

The following is a biographical account of events based on the subject's own testimonies and several eyewitness accounts.

The line between random chance and fate is a blurred one.

Was it fate, or chance that Joshua Smith happened upon a certain fedora wearing lady’s yard sale and bought a lucky D20?

Was it fate, or chance that D20 turned his roommate Bernie from a testosterone addled jock to a cute and curvy geek girl, finally able to experience all the things that shame and misogyny had kept her from embracing?

Was it fate, or chance that her old friend, Caesar, would come to their dorm looking for “Bernie”, who unbeknownst to him, was right there, perfectly happy and content in her new life…?

And was it pure chance, or predetermined fate that Bernadette had long since joined the Coven and started her training as a fledgeling witch? And that her Empathy spell (or “Detect Transness” as she liked to call it) could see clearly that Caesar was just as lost and caged by seemingly mandatory manhood as she had once been?

“Yeaaah, he’s not leaving…” Josh closed the door behind him, “He said he’s gonna stay out there all night until he gets some answers because he KNOWS “Bernie” used to live here…”

Bernadette nodded, trying not to have another panic attack. Bernadette still remembered bits and pieces of being “Bernie” ever since the mental aspects of her transformation wore off... she knew she could remember more if she tried, but… she didn’t want to. Bernie was a sad, angry young man stuck in the wrong body, who took it out on everyone else around him. Bernadette was a happy, adorkable geek girl with a loving and understanding boyfriend, who had JUST finally gotten her braces off and had finally found the right medication for her acne. That is to say, things were finally going well for her.

Josh noticed his girlfriend shaking, and wrapped her up in a nice, warm bear hug. “Ssssh, it’s okay, honey… no one can make you go back if you don’t want to… I wouldn’t even let them try…”

Bernadette nodded again. She had long since told Josh what had REALLY happened the night they started dating. Getting him to see past the Veil and remember their… troublesome past as roommates was hard for her, in more ways than one, but she came to love Josh, and wanted him to know the truth about her. She loved him even more when he STILL accepted her even after their past…

But now her past had come to haunt her once more… and like before, the only way out, was to face her fears head on.

“Okay… let him in. I have an idea…”

Caesar wasn’t the patient sort. When he sat down at the table he snorted at the sight of dice and hand drawn battle maps strewn about. Bernadette stared him down behind the relative safety of her DM’s screen.

“The fuck is all of this? One of your stupid Dungeon’s and Dorks games? You’re supposed to be telling me where Bernie ran off to. What, are you supposed to be his sister or something…?”

Hearing her dead name sent a slurry of fear and disgust down her spine, but she swallowed it back. With a stern glare, she stared down Caesar. Despite him being taller, and much stronger than she used to be, somehow, even as short and “fun-sized” as she was, the comfort she had in her new body gave her a confidence that she’d never thought possible. It also didn’t hurt that her lisp had finally disappeared with her braces.

“Okay, Caesar. I’ll tell you. But first, we’re gonna play a game. If you win, I’ll bring you to Bernie myself. But if I win, you leave us alone, deal?”

Caesar snorted. “And just why the hell would I agree to that when I could just call the cops on you freakazoids? You probably kidnapped him for your… “satin-ic rituals” or whatever.

“We don’t do that, and it’s not SATIN, it’s- nevermind. If you were gonna do that, you’d have done it already. Lemme guess, no one ELSE remembers that Bernie even existed, let alone lived here, do they…?”

Caesar was quiet, a bead of sweat tracing the furrow of his brow.

“That’s what I thought. No one would believe you. No one save US, that is. So, do we have a deal…?” Bernadette held out her soft, delicate hand.

Caesar sighed, and took it.

“Fine, whatever, I can beat you anytime, anywhere. What are we playing? Football? Rugby? Hell, I could beat a girl like YOU at any sport.” He looked her plus sized figure up and down derisively.

Bernadette just smiled. “Then it’s a good thing ‘Dungeons and Dorks’ isn’t a sport then, isn’t it…?”

Caesar narrowed his eyes. “That’s cheating.”

Bernadette shrugged. “I said any game. D&D is a game.”

“I don’t even know how to play- how the hell do I beat you at D&D?!”

Bernadette slid an empty character sheet and a pencil over to Caesar.

“Let’s find out together, shall we…?”

“I’ve gotta say, you certainly made an interesting choice in making your character, ‘Cecelia’,” Bernadette said with a knowing smirk.

“Oh, shut up, if I have to play your stupid game, least I get to do is look at a hot girl’s ass…” Caesar grumbled to himself as he finished writing down his Elven Rogue’s stats and picking up the curviest miniature he could find in the box.

“If you say so… so, you begin, as all good stories do, in a Tavern. At the other side of the bar you see a cloaked figure-”

“I go over there and I beat him up,” Caesar said with a smirk.

Bernadette sighed, pinching her brow. “Okay, no, first off, you’re a ROGUE. You’re not built for brawling, you’re built for fighting from the shadows. The guards in this town would DESTROY you at this level. Moreover, you wrote in your backstory that Cecelia is a disgraced noble looking to reclaim her title. She wouldn’t go around picking fights with strangers for no good reason! You need to put yourself in your character’s shoes, just… Close your eyes.”

“What?”

“Close. Your. Eyes.”

“I’m not closing my fuckin’-”

“If you don’t close your eyes you lose.”

Caesar glowered at her for a moment, then reluctantly closed his eyes. “You two poindexters try anything funny and I’ll kill you.”

“Great. Now what do you see?”

“Uh, NOTHING, DUH, my eyes are closed?!”

“Wrong. You’re in a Tavern. The chair under your seat is made of a cheap, but comfortable wood. The foaming glass tankard of ale in front of you smells nice and malty, with just a touch of caramel. You wrap your slender, elven hands around the handle. The glass feels nice and smooth against your calluses after a long day of adventuring and trudging through dark woods hunting feral goblins. Your toned muscles finally unclench, and your weary bones pop with relief as you stretch.”

Caesar was quiet now. Bernadette smiled as she saw his fingers wrap around his ice cold soda can. His fingers started to slim down, becoming dainty phalanges tipped with cyan polished nails.

 Bernadette ran her thumb on the rosey quartz surface of her lucky D20. It radiated with bright light and sat warmer in her palm. It was working.

“You’d grown accustomed to… much nicer accommodations as a Lady of the Golden Oak, but even a fine lady as you can’t deny that venues like this have certain… perks. More generous and flavorful portions of food. Much livelier folk music and much rowdier folk than the dreary dirge of uptight nobles at balls and cotillions. But here, where the fire crackles, the music dances, and the people make merry… you can’t help but tap your foot along with them…”

Sure enough, Caesar could hear the music, every plucked string of the lute, every beat of the drums. His foot started tapping itself to the beat while his red sneakers melted away into rich black velvet, shrinking his feet and sneaking up his sole until they were cupped by strapped, five inch heels.

Okay, okay, this is good, just keep going… Bernadette thought to herself as she continued.

“Across the bar, you see a man in a cloak. Despite his face being hidden by his hood, you can tell he’s looking right at you. And who wouldn’t be looking at you? You’re a young, attractive elven woman, lithe and curved in all the right places. Your hair like the richest, greenest grasses of the forest, your skin like the softest, most fertile of soils… You were a Lady of the Golden Oak. They could take your title, but they could NEVER take your looks from you…”

Caesar smiled, a feeling of feminine pride swelling in his chest… along with something else. His body, much as Bernadette had expected, was being molded by invisible hands, pressed and pulled into a much more womanly shape.

Perhaps a bit more woman than Bernadette had expected. Originally, her idea had been to turn Caesar into a real life copy of his Elven Archer. However, it seems her trusty D20 had taken some offense to his quick judgment of her own heavier body, and decided to give him something similar as a lesson. There wasn’t much Bernadette could do in this regard as she was still learning how to use magic, and D20s by nature are fickle things of chance…

Caesar’s overly toned muscular body, toughened by years of abuse from contact sports,  melted,and expanded like microwaved marshmallow, turning doughy, soft, and huggable. His pectorals erupted into watermelons that hung over a nice healthy round belly. His ass soon followed, ballooning out through the back of his chair. His hips grew almost a foot wider, his thickening ass and legs stretched the denim of his jeans to their limit, before they finally, mercifully ripped, the ragged tatters morphing into a better fitting pleated leather and cloth cosplay skirt. Green tights wrapped around her thighs like a sleeve of silk wraps around a nice pillow. He looked very uncomfortable, squirming in pain as his balls were no doubt being crushed between his now much thicker thighs. But not for long, as they quickly receded deep inside her, taking a new, much more comfortable form.

Her hair grew out next, cascading down her shoulders, dying itself, very amateurishly, from black to a bright green. Her chin un-chiseled itself, like marble returning to soft, round stone. Her eyelashes fluttered like black butterfly wings behind a new pair of thick red cat eye glasses. Her plumper lips broke into a grin, her now crooked teeth being straightened out by the overtightened bands of her new set of braces. Plastic elf ears wrapped themselves around her helixes, and ordinary tree branches decorated with fake flowers adorned her now pig-tailed hair. Light touches of a beginner’s cosplay work, cardboard armor spray painted gold and duct taped together, poorly sewed sleeves and a fake toy dagger, finished off the new girl’s look.

Bernadette looked down at her character sheet. Seamlessly, the player name shifted from “Caesar” in brutish print, to “Cecelia” written in perfectly looping cursive. She smiled again, relieved the magic had done its work to ease Cecelia’s transition as it had hers.

“Sho… what happensh next…?” Cecelia’s voice was soft and timid, touched with an adorable lisp like Bernadette’s had once been. Cecelia didn’t seem to notice the changes yet. Bernadette pulled herself out of her quiet contemplation and continued.

“Well, that depends. This guy is clearly beckoning you over. What would ‘Cerena’ do…?”

The new girl thought for a moment, and then spoke with an uncharacteristic bravado filtered behind the safety of her perfectly idealized elven avatar.

“Cerena… getsh up from her sheat, and shtruts over to the shhtranger. She putsh her handsh on her hipsh and saysh, ‘Well? Do I have something on my face?”

Her excitement was infectious. This was always Bernadette’s favorite part of any table top game. When the players became immersed in the world, when the players BECAME their characters.

“No, my fair lady. You just struck me as the kind of woman who may be interested… in an ADVENTURE.”

They played a good few hours into the night. Horrific, multi-legged monsters were slain. Mysteries in mist filled cities were solved. And dungeons were most certainly, well and thoroughly, dorked.\

“AAaaaand I think we’ll have to end our session here…” Bernadette said, closing her DM screen with a loud clap.

“WHAT?! B–BUT WHAT ABOUT MY ARRANGED MARRIAGE TO LORD BOROMUSH?! AND THE SHECRET ORK ARMY?! AND WE SHTILL HAVEN’T SHOLVED THE MYSTERY OF THE CURSED OPAL RING OF TRANSHMOGRIFICATION!!!” Cecelia had become so invested in the story, she STILL hadn’t noticed her own “transmogrification”.

“Sorry, Cecelia, but I’ve got classes early tomorrow. This was just a session zero. We’ll pick up at the same place next week, then you can meet Joshie’s character and the rest of the crew…”

“I gotta wait a whole WEEK to find out what HAPPENSH!?” Cecelia balked, before realizing something Bernadette had said was off. “...wait… what did you jusht call me- My namesh not-...? W-Why doesh my voice shound… why do I feel sho…?”

“Aaaaanyways, Joshie and I gotta hit the sack now, here’s my phone number, call me tomorrow if you have any questions about D&D or anything else, I’ll see you around campus, ‘kay? ‘Kay!” Bernadette pushed Cecelia out the door as quickly as she could. Cece was like a grenade about to go off, and Bernadette did not want to get caught in the aftermath of this hard boiled egg cracking.

“W-W-Wait wait wait, what about Bernie?! Didn’t I win?! You have to tell me where Bernie ish!?” Cecelia begged in the doorway.

“Huh? Oh, right, you don’t WIN at D&D, silly, it’s about telling fun stories with your friends! And “Bernie” has always been right under your nose… just like those massive tits of yours! See you tomorrow, Cece, try not to freak out too much, okay? Byyyyeeee!”

“Titsh-?!”

Bernadette slammed and locked the door and quietly counted to herself. “Three… two… one…”

“WHAT THE FUCK?! DID YOU FUCKING SHATIN WORSHIPPING NERDSH TURN ME INTO A FRICKIN’ GIRL?!?! AAAAAAAAAHHH!!!”

“Aaaaand, boom goes the dynamite…” Bernadette chuckled to herself as she left Cecelia to her tantrum. 

In their shared bedroom, Josh was waiting, the new issue of Slandaar the Barbarian in his hands. “Sooo, how did it go? You two were at it for a few hours, but with the noise she’s making, I can’t exactly tell…”

Bernadette, thoroughly exhausted from a full night of math and improvisation, buried her face in the safety of her boyfriend’s plush chest.

“God, I know, right? She sounds just like I did after the mental conditioning wore off… which, uh, I’m still sorry about that, by the way. I was still figuring stuff out back then. And I’m sure she’ll figure out she’s much happier like this soon-…” They heard the sound of Cecelia angrily knocking over a trash can outside the dorms, “...ish.”

“Awww, don’t worry about that, ok? You did your part, she’ll be fine, especially in THIS city. And you’ll always be my beautiful princess, Bernadette.” Josh combed his fingers through his girlfriends frizzy brown hair. 

Was it fate, or chance that she’d ended up with the most wonderful man in the whole wide world?

She didn’t really care anymore, to be honest.

All that mattered was he was hers, and she was his.

She pressed her face even deeper into his shirt and let him wrap his arms nice and tight around her. The safest place she could imagine wasn’t some dragon guarded dungeon or an iron dwarven fortress in a far off land.

It was, and would always be, right here, in Josh’s arms.

“Gosh, Joshie… you’re just so cool…” she mumbled into his chest before peacefully drifting off to sleep.

From the desk of

Mira Alcott

Head-Mistress of Transformations

(Special thanks to TashaTheWitchQueen for the suggestion, to my Test Readers, to Head Maid Violet Velvet for editing, and to all of my Patrons for your support!)