Chapter 1

Flotsam

Chapter 1: Halley-24

I gasp as my new eyes open for the first time.

I have no idea how I got here. I'm panting, can feel one of my panic attacks coming on. Ohshitohshitohshitohshit. I can't afford this right now. I close my eyes and count to ten, make an effort to breath just like my therapist taught me. Calm, just be calm. Zen. Okay now Halley, let's try that again. Open those eyes.

I'm laying on something soft like a mattress. It's comfortable, some kind of memory foam. That is okay. I'm also naked, which is less okay. I choke back a whimper and take a deep breath. Panic never solved anything. My skin is pimpled from an odd, dissipating chill. I try not to shiver. I stare at the ceiling, a smooth white molded plastic like the inside of an airstream trailer I’d visited once. I wiggle my fingers and toes, test my arms and legs. They seem intact and not at all restrained. That's positive. Things are looking up already!

I sit up. Yep, definitely on a bed in a bedroom. I look around the bedroom and it’s not the nicest room. For one, it's small. For another, it's messy. The half made bed stretches wall to wall and completely fills half the room. The rest of the room is cluttered with discarded laundry: dresses, bras, underwear, and various other femme garmentry. So probably a messy woman's room. I sigh in relief, another mark in the win column.

Not seeing any immediate threats I decide to take stock of myself. I run my hands and eyes over my body. It looks normal: too pale, slim but not skinny, vaguely fit without being athletic, just a sliver below average height. Hi Halley. I'm encouraged by a lack of bruises, broken bones, or signs of injury to my lady parts. While I'm still mysteriously naked, it doesn't look like I've been abused or hurt.

So to sum up, I am naked, but apparently unmolested, in a strange woman's bedroom.

I awkwardly scoot myself off the bed, plant my feet, and stand. And... have to steady myself for a dizzy second of light headedness. The smoothest escape ever! I prod a pile of laundry with my feet. Nothing alive in it moves so I rifle through it a little. A promising looking t-shirt dress comes to hand. It is black and made with a slick matte fabric that is definitely not cotton. I give it an experimental sniff: it smells faintly of a pleasant smelling shampoo. I'll take previously worn dress over nudity in unfamiliar territory, so I pull the dress on. It's too loose, but it covers me and isn't a terrible fit so it’ll do. I feel substantially less like I’m about to completely lose my shit.

I am solving problems, one manageable part at a time. My therapist would be so proud.

I walk to the door. It’s made of the same polymer as the other surfaces in the bedroom. I put my ear against it and don’t hear anything outside. I look for a door handle and can't find it. What kind of bedroom door doesn't have a handle? (Answer: a cell.) I start to feel another panic attack brewing. Until I notice a touch pad looking thing mounted on the wall next to the door. It glows faintly, as if it’s in sleep mode. Tentatively I reach out and touch the screen with a finger. It snaps on! And I snap my finger back.

A menu appears on the screen with a cartoony "Hi Halley!" greeting on the top. Fuck me. I see an icon marked exit and hesitantly prod it. A static charge leaps from the screen and up my arm! My borrowed dress writhes on my body! I yelp as it cinches tighter, hugging my body, hemline creeping up a bit. My pilfered dress now fits me perfectly, becoming upsettingly flattering. The door to the room snaps up into the ceiling with a hiss. I squeak, not quite able to scream.

Trying not to panic I peek out through the doorway.

And there I am! Another Halley! Except... not? This Halley is completely naked and has eight breasts on her chest and kitty cat ears and a little pink nose and whiskers and huge luminous green feline eyes and paws and a furry tail that idly flicks in the air behind her. I’m looking at myself as a catgirl! Naked catgirl Halley!

I scream!

Naked catgirl Halley regards me with a kind of bored contempt. "Master!" she yowls, "we have another Halley!"

Master? I scream again.

"Pussy?" A throaty alto woman's voice asks blearily.

Pussy? I whimper.

"Master, another Halley has spawned in the bedroom." Pussy tips her head and cooly looks at me, a disturbingly feline gesture. "I don't think she is doing well," she sniffs.

I hear strange clopping sounds and a second person comes into view. It's another bizarre woman who’s at least wearing clothes. She has hooves for feet, hence the clopping, and legs that bend oddly giving her a posture one part animal and one part leggy woman wearing heels. She also has a tail peaking out of her plaid pajama pants, except this one is long and sinuous and covered in human looking skin. Her tight tank top is stretched out by three heavy breasts. She has a gorgeous face framed with silver, pearlescent hair that shimmers with a rainbow of colours that cascades down her bare shoulders. She has long black rams horns growing from her scalp that curl from her temples and swoop back around long, vaguely elfin pointed ears. Her eyes look tired, like she hasn't gotten enough sleep. She’s totally beautiful aaaaand there is something familiar about her that I can't quite place...

The woman shifts self consciously and I notice her pants have a decidedly large, decidedly masculine bulge in the front. Which in this context is an upsetting development. Hello again panic!

"Hi Halley," the woman says gently, "everything is going to be okay." She spreads her hands non-threateningly. "I know you’re confused, but, it's me, Clem."

Clem? This woman is my boyfriend Clem? That's absurd.... but.... she does look a little... and...

Fuck me! This bizarre woman is my boyfriend Clem!

I scream again!

...Aaaaand then promptly faint.

Attagirl Halley.

***

Chapter 2