Device malfunction (Patreon)

Fred woke up that morning with a sense of excitement. He had just installed a cutting-edge experimental dressing device in his home, designed to streamline his morning routine and save him valuable time. As the well-respected CEO of a major corporation, time was a precious commodity, and any innovation that could make his life more efficient was worth trying.

With anticipation, Fred activated the device, expecting to be clad in his usual impeccable business attire. However, something went terribly wrong. As he looked in the mirror, he was met with a reflection that left him utterly shocked – he was transformed into a stereotypical blonde woman.

A wig with two ponytails adorned his head, and to his horror, he discovered that the device had affixed breasts to his chest. The outfit he wore was unmistakably feminine, complete with high heels that seemed to add an awkward sway to his walk. Panic set in as he realized the glitch had rendered the attire unremovable. He was stuck in this bizarre appearance, and the only way to revert to his normal self was through the very device that had caused the predicament.

Frustration, embarrassment, and confusion swirled within Fred as he contemplated how to handle the situation. He couldn't fathom walking into the corporate world dressed like this, and he certainly didn't want anyone he knew to witness him in such an absurd state.

Suppressing a sigh, Fred decided to leave the confines of his home, hoping to find a solution at the business center where his company and the secret development department were located. As he stepped onto the street, he couldn't shake the strange sensations from his chest, as if the glued-on breasts were real. The high heels beneath his feet added an uncomfortable rhythm to his stride, making each step a reminder of his outlandish appearance.

As Fred navigated through the city, he became acutely aware of the curious glances and hushed whispers that followed him. The unchanged face amidst the heavy makeup created a surreal contrast, heightening the absurdity of his predicament. He was determined to confront the engineers and scientists responsible for the malfunctioning dressing device and demand a quick resolution.

Approaching the business center, Fred felt a mix of determination and trepidation. He was on a mission to confront the engineers and scientists responsible for the glitched dressing device. The lobby of the business center was a sea of professionals going about their day, and Fred's entrance in his unconventional outfit turned heads.

...

Fred, feeling a bizarre mix of confidence and awkwardness, walked into the business center, only to be stopped by security guards who, saw fit to address him as "Miss." And Fred had to enter into a dialogue with them because they wouldn’t let him go into the business center

Security Guard: (raising an eyebrow) "Excuse me, Miss, where do you think you're going?"

Fred: (confused but trying to assert authority) "Oh, like, Miss? No way! It's, like, Fred Macobson. I'm the CEO, you know? I, like, totally need to get in. Ugh, can' t you see the CEO vibes?" 

What Fred said was unexpected in that he spoke strangely, although this was not at all in his style - he usually spoke very pompously and intelligently. The guard's eyes widened in surprise, and he asked Fred to repeat himself. Fred starts to feel the first twinge of annoyance, but he tries to maintain composure.

Security Guard: (speaking into the radio) "Yeah, we got someone claiming to be the CEO. Fred... Macobson? You sure? Okay."

Fred taps his foot impatiently, not realizing he's doing it in a somewhat feminine manner.

Fred: "Ugh, like, seriously, I don't have time for this drama. I'm Fred Macobson, the CEO? Duh! Just, like, let me through, okay? Can't you see the CEO vibes radiating from me?"

Security Guard: (smiling condescendingly) "Miss, you're mistaken. Mr. Barney Davison is the CEO here. No one knows any you friend Macobson."

Fred: "Oh my gosh, like, seriously? Friend Macobson? No way! It's me, like, totally Fred Macobson. Can you, like, check again? I need to get to that super-secret development thingy. Urgent matters, you know? It's like, a big deal!"

Security Guard: (smirking) "Sure, Miss. Let me help you out."

(The guard starts to speak to Fred as if addressing a child.)

Security Guard: "Now, sweetie, you might be a bit confused. Mr. Davison is in charge here, not you."

(Fred is growing increasingly frustrated and feeling a bit humiliated.)

Fred: (stamping his foot, unintentionally in a feminine manner) "Um, hello? I'm like, totally Fred Macobson, the CEO? You, like, need to let me through! I demand it, okay? Can't you see these CEO vibes I'm giving off? Like, seriously!"

Security Guard: (chuckling) "Oh, honey, I'm just doing my job. No need to throw a tantrum. Mr. Davison is the boss here, not you."

(Fred, seething with frustration, decides to prove his identity, even though he feels a twinge of humiliation.)

Fred: (rummaging through his purse, trying to maintain dignity) "Ugh, fine, whatever! I'll show you, like, look at this! Can you even believe this mess? It's, like, a total disaster! Gosh!"

(Fred pulls out his ID and hands it to the guard, who takes it with a smirk.)

Security Guard: (glancing at the ID and laughing) "Miss Dakota Candy Store, huh? Nice try, but we don't have anyone like you on record."

Fred, wide-eyed and in disbelief, takes the ID back and realizes his face is there, but with a makeup and pigtails identical to his current appearance

...

Still in shock from the revelation on his documents, Fred spotted the head of the research department leaving the building. Without a second thought, he awkwardly sprinted towards the main scientist, his high heels clattering on the pavement as he shouted the scientist's name.

"Hey, like, Dr. Roberts! Dr. Roberts, wait up!" Fred called out, running with a funny gait that was more accustomed to heels than a hurried pace.

Dr. Roberts turned around, a look of confusion and amusement crossing his face as he observed the blonde stranger calling his name. "Can I help you, young lady?" he asked with a bemused smile.

"Um, like, it's me, Fred Macobson! Something's gone, like, totally wrong with that dressing thingamajig!" Fred pointed to his pigtails, his feminine clothes, and the makeshift chest, emphasizing the absurdity of his appearance. "Ugh, seriously, this is, like, not right at all!"

Dr. Roberts squinted at the blonde woman before him, his recognition not surfacing. "I'm sorry, miss, but I don't know you. And I don't know anything about a dressing device."

Fred's frustration reached a boiling point. "Um, duh! You've gotta know, like, you're in charge of the secret development thingy! This is some crazy devilry! I'm, like, the CEO, you know?"

The scientist's eyebrows raised, and a chuckle escaped him. "The CEO? Really? You look more like a lost little girl in a costume. There's no secret device, and you're certainly not the CEO."

Fred, now infuriated, let out a string of curses directed at both the scientist and the security guard. "Like, seriously, this is total madness! I demand you fix this, okay? It's, like, a major fashion emergency!"

Dr. Roberts, maintaining his calm demeanor, decided to play along. "Alright, alright. How about this? If you give me a big, beautiful smile and a little wave, I'll consider helping you with your... problem."

Fred was indignant. "Ugh, no way! I'm not playing your ridiculous games! I won't, like, smile and wave like a fool, okay? It's just too much!"

The scientist persisted, "Come on, just a little smile, and I'll assist you after lunch. Deal?"

Reluctantly, Fred agreed, feeling that it was his only chance to rectify the bizarre situation. He forced a smile, accompanied by a half-hearted wave, as Dr. Roberts chuckled and walked away. Fred, seething with anger, couldn't believe he was resorting to such antics. Little did he know that the strange twists of his morning were far from over, and the resolution to his predicament would come with its own set of challenges.

...

Standing and waiting for the chief scientist, Fred felt that something was changing. He didn’t know that the device was not just a device for getting dressed in the morning; for some reason, scientists stuffed some of their own invention into it, which was supposed to change people’s perceptions. However, scientists and of course Fred did not know that this was a very powerful device. And at that moment changes began. Fred began to notice how everything around him was changing, and after a few minutes he was already in a completely different place.

As Fred stood there, holding the oversized white teddy bear and feeling the weight of the changes around him, he muttered to himself, "Like, seriously, this totally shouldn't have happened. Ugh, what even is going on right now?" He cursed himself once again for sounding like a stereotypical blonde, not realizing the bizarre nature of the device he had used that morning.

His clothes transformed into something more provocative, and an odd heaviness settled on his chest. Looking around, he realized he was in a completely different place. Smooth skin replaced wrinkled hands, and he felt rejuvenated, as if he had become 20 or 25 again.

A stranger, an unfamiliar black man, approached him. The man had been standing nearby all this time, observing the changes unfold. He greeted Fred with a feminine pet name, avoiding the name Dakota, and asked, "Hey, sweetheart, everything okay?

Surprised, Fred questioned, "Um, hello? What? Why are you calling me that? Like, seriously, stop with the weird names, okay?"

The man repeated the pet name and added, "What are these questions? Dakota damn it, why are you standing there?" He even mentioned the full name that Fred is now bore.

Confused and alarmed, Fred asked, "Wait, like, what? Why are you calling me Dakota? No way! I am so not Dakota. I'm, like, the big boss, you know? The CEO of that mega corporation, Fred Macobson. Get it right, geez!"

The man looked at Fred with surprise and calmly stated, "No, sweetheart, you've always been Dakota. You work for me. What nonsense are you talking about?"

Angry, Fred clarified, "No, no, no. Like, seriously, this is all a big mistake. I shouldn't even be here, and what's with this dumb name - Dakota? How did I even end up in this mess? Who are you, and like, what the heck do you want from me?"

The man insisted, "We need to go the client is waiting. God Dee, enough of this circus"

Growing more frustrated, Fred demanded, "This is like, some major nonsense! What the heck kind of client? You're totally confusing me with someone else! I need to go to my business center and laboratory. Are you going to help me, or do I have to, like, figure this out on my own and leave! Ugh, seriously, where even am I right now?"

The man, without losing his calm demeanor, said, "We're talking about your job, sweetie. You're a prostitute, and we have a client waiting."

Infuriated, Fred snapped, "Like, no way! That's, like, not true at all!"

The man's tone changed, and he began to get angry, calling Fred a derogatory term. Realizing his lapse, he quickly apologized, "Sorry, Dakota. Let's go. The client won't wait forever."

Fred, seething with anger, retorted, "Uh, seriously, I'll decide things myself. Like, go to, like, the place with all the fire and stuff. Yeah, you heard me. Bye, loser!"

Dakota turned around, still sure that she was Fred, and walked in the other direction, not yet suspecting how much of a bimbo she had become this time and what she now had to do in her work.

...

As Dakota approached the house that she believed to be hers, a sense of confusion and disorientation lingered in the air. The déjà vu of returning to a place she thought she knew clashed with the reality unfolding before her.

The car that had once been Fred's luxurious transport pulled up, and a man in a business suit stepped out. He casually made his way into the house without acknowledging Dakota.

Dakota: (bewildered) "Like, seriously, what the heck... who even is this?"

Dakota's confusion escalated when she glanced down at her attire. The familiar transformation had occurred once more. Her braids were gone, replaced by long strands of blonde hair, and she now wore only short white shorts, and stickers formed on her chest. She was practically naked now!

Dakota: (frustrated) "Ugh, this is, like, totally crazy. What's even happening right now?"

The confusion intensified as a car pulled up, the same one that was used to chauffeur her when she was Fred. Just as Dakota tried to make sense of the situation, the driver, who had driven her to the house, initiated a conversation.

Driver: (leering) "Well, well, look who we have here. A new face in the neighborhood."

Dakota: (indignant) "Um, hello? This is like, my place! You're my driver, you gotta help ---"

Driver: (mocking and interrupting Dakota) "Your home? Sweetheart, you must be lost or something. This area isn't for people like you."

Dakota: (offended) "People like me? What the heck are you talking about? I totally own this place!"

Driver: (laughing) "You're crazy, lady. I'll call the cops and have them straighten you out for working here illegally."

Dakota: (angry) "You're, like, such a rude dude, you know? Go, like, to that hot place!"

Dakota tried to move towards the house, but the driver warned her to stay put and threatened to call the police.

Dakota: (assertive) "I, like, totally own this house, and I'll get you canned for talking to me like that."

Driver: (sarcastic) "Sure thing, lady. You can tell the cops all about it. I'll be here."

Dakota, frustrated and determined, decided to take control.

Dakota: (firmly) "Look, I, like, need to go to the worky place and the sciencey lab thing. You work for me, got it?"

Driver: (smirking) "Oh, really? Well, maybe we can work something out, you know? Help me, and I'll help you."

The driver testified that he did not dial the police number and winked at Dakota. Dakota was sure that the driver would help her get to the business center and reluctantly sitting in the front seat, gave a skeptical look.

Dakota: "Fine, whatever. Just, like, take me to the place where I do my business stuff."

However, the driver, instead of heading toward the business center, took a detour into a back alley.

Dakota: (confused) "This doesn't look like the way to the worky place."

Driver: (smiling) "Relax, sweetheart. This is just your worky place"

Dakota, feeling uneasy, demanded an explanation, but the driver only continued to smile and began to slowly unzip his trousers.