Face to face (futa/f)

Story by koba_yashi

A story I've sitting around for a long, long time. Part of the reason I didn't finish it at the time was because Luvbster's Know Thyself came out for the story contest that year, and they are very similar in idea. More importantly, I couldn't make it work properly, until now. Probably. Maybe you should decide.

Face to face

PSYCHOCOSMETIC SURGERY – RELEASE YOUR INNER BEAUTY!

The sign over the door did little to ease Violet’s nerves. With a guilty glance around the lush, green plaza, she pushed open the black glass door and stepped into the reception area.

It was a lot smaller than she had imagined, and far more homely. She had expected sterile, polished marble stretching for miles in every direction, but this place was more like the waiting room of a family doctor’s clinic. It was clean though, with strategically placed potted plants and cushy sofas. The carpet was spongy and thick beneath her feet.

A receptionist sat behind a large wooden desk, the surface of which was dominated by paperwork. She was easily in her fifties, and dressed conservatively. She struck Violet as being an archetypal librarian. She smiled broadly at Violet as she entered.

“Hello. How can I help you?” she asked. Violet smiled nervously back.

“Hi. I have an appointment for 3:30?”

The receptionist cleared some of the papers away to reveal a keyboard and a monitor. She tapped at a few keys.

“Violet Lee, is that correct?” she asked.

“That’s me,” said Violet.

“Do you have some ID?”

Violet dug her purse out of her bag and found her driver’s license. The receptionist gave it a cursory glance.

“Great. I’ll just confirm some details with you now. You have no medical conditions?”

“None,” said Violet.

“And you’re here for the body issues treatment?”

Violet felt her face flush.

“Yes,” she managed, her eyes cast down.

The receptionist smiled again, her expression warm and gentle.

“Excellent. If you’d like to come this way, please.”

Violet followed the elderly woman through a door at the back of the room and into a wide, white-tiled corridor, and only now did she feel like she was in an extremely hi-tech facility. There were only a few doors leading out, but each of them had numerous tubes, wires and unknowable gadgets surrounding them. There were also touch-screen panels to the side of each of them, and the one they stopped beside had Violet’s name on it, along with some technical babble well beyond her grasp. There was a loud, low-pitched hum that seemed to vibrate the entire corridor.

“Okay,” said the receptionist, “if you’d like to step through there, you’ll find a tablet and a glass of water on the table to your right. Take the tablet, and do whatever feels natural. There’ll be a couple of surprises, but we’ll be monitoring the situation indirectly. And you can leave the room whenever you want, although we strongly recommend you do not.”

This didn't help her nerves much. She was trembling slightly.

“That’s it? No introduction? I mean, what will happen in there?”

“No introduction. We’ve found that the experience has much greater effect if you have no preconceived notions or expectations. Just have a little faith in us!”

“And I can leave anytime?”

“Of course! Although, as I said, it is much better that you don’t. Just relax, take your time, and do whatever feels right.”

Violet hesitated. “Will this... change me? As a person?”

“Everything changes you as a person,” said the receptionist, smiling. “But to answer your actual worries, none of the drugs involved have a permanent effect. The effects will wear off by the time you leave the building. The difference comes from having a chance to see yourself in a new light. We weren't lying on our website, Miss Lee!”

The receptionist, who Violet was beginning to suspect was not just a mere receptionist, twisted the huge handle and opened the door. It was large and metal, at least a few inches thick, and sealed with rubber edges. It looked more like an airlock.

Inside was a rather ordinary bedroom.

Violet looked back at the receptionist with trepidation. The woman just smiled reassuringly at her and gestured toward the room.

Okay, what the hell, thought Violet. I’ve come this far.

She entered.

“Don’t forget the pill! It’s important!” said the receptionist as she heaved the door closed. It thumped emphatically shut.

Violet looked to her right, and sure enough there was a little blue pill sitting in a little plastic cup, next to a bottle of water. Upon closer inspection, she decided it looked a little like Viagra. She looked at the door again, then at the pill. She looked around the room again, and this time saw herself in the long dress mirror attached to the wardrobe, and winced.

That was why she had come here. Even through her baggy ho

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