Roll With It

Chapter 1 - ERIC

Eric Howard circled around the back of the line while palm trees thrashed in the wind. A hacking swirl of dust lashed at his face and assaulted his broad nose with the sharp itch of the desert. He used his travel bags to block the worst of it. A few guys cut ahead but he kept his mouth shut. Through clenched teeth, he grumbled to himself.

When he finally made it to the front, he put on his best smile for the girl with bright-green hair who asked him for his name. Blocking his hair from getting flapped by the breeze, his eyes wandered, uncertain where to look but determined not to gaze at her bust pressing against the blue convention top she wore. Fumbling with his name, he wound up repeating it a few times before she started to skim through reams of paper. 

Asking about his friends' badges, she glanced up and said they would have to come individually to the registration desk to pick them up. He remembered what Dean told him about being firm that they had registered as a group and Eric could pick everything up on his own. But being there, fighting the wind, his own words, and everything, he just wanted to get out. So, he told her it was fine and made his way inside the hotel. 

Dean scrunched his forehead and rubbed at his eyes when Eric returned with a shrug and just his own registration. Behind him, Lodi, who was proudly hauling several bags and wearing the expression of a wrestler as they entered the arena, just gave a nod as though she expected this outcome. Edgar loomed nearby with the rest of the bags as Sinclair pointed at each and went over a sheet in his hands. Simon sprawled out on a couch in the lobby as much as possible and vaguely-glanced in Eric's direction when he arrived. 

Before Sinclair could volunteer himself to go pick them up, Dean waved his hands and sighed that he would do it. Lodi took charge of the room cards and stomped her way to the elevator. Her tough act ended on the long hallway jaunt as she stumbled to the casino-patterned carpet, full of roulette wheels and spread decks.  By way of apology, Eric dragged as much as he could, as Sinclair shoved several bags into Simon's hands.  

Basically falling through the doorway, Lodi dropped everything in room 614 before she unlocked the other room. Then, she flopped down on the nearest king-size bed and started making blanket angels. It wasn't her room but no one disturbed her.

Dean and Lodi, husband and wife, had the room with the lone king. The adjoining room had two kings to be divided up. Eric made it known he was fine with Edgar but Simon had grumbled about sharing a bed with Sinclair. Eric stated he could also get along with Simon but the prospect of late-night chats with Edgar brought back all his best feelings about college. No matter what, Eric figured he would just agree to whatever worked best. 

Looking around the room at his friends, Eric felt his mind ease. They were finally here and ready for the anime convention. Settling back on his pillow, he looked around the room. Lodi, sprawled on the sheets, looked like someone had an idea for a person but had gotten fixated on spindly arms and legs. Her hair was clenched in a tight, short black ponytail compared to her husband's long and rusty one. She was nearly as tall as him. Eric knew she had another reverse trap cosplay planned for the weekend but she'd been coy about the details. Dean had been just as coy. Eric knew something was up but figured he wasn't clever enough to guess it anyway. 

He looked away from Lodi, reminding himself it was weird to unintentionally-stare at the butt of someone else's wife, especially since it was, as she liked to quip, "As pert as a young boy's." 

Slumping into the chair by the window, Edgar lifted his head at Eric and gave a small smile. He was a towering guy, full of a blend of muscle with belly fat and broad shoulders, which rose high enough that he instinctively-crouched through most doorways, even though he had several inches of clearance. The dirty fringe of hair on his cheeks would be trimmed back for his cosplay. His best was when he bleached his hair blond and posed as that big guy from the alchemy series. He got runner-up at that con, their first as a group.

Simon and Sinclair had won as a duo with Sinclair as a stern bartender/bodyguard and Simon as a slacker and information dealer who got pummeled by a street sign wielded by the bartender. Eric had never seen the show. They didn't need to stretch much for those roles. Simon was the leanest among them, with a forever-unkempt mess of dirty-blond hair and a shirt which read, "Tentacles Are Love" with the shadow of a giant octopus spread across. 

Sinclair wore a shirt entirely-covered in a Japanese script but Eric forgot what it was called. Sinclair had explained that one of them read, "Fall down seven times and stand up eight". That was the only one Eric remembered.

Washing off in the bathroom, Eric looked himself over. He had on a black shirt with blue outlines of characters from a show Dean often gushed about. He'd never seen it either but he enjoyed the color scheme. He wanted to clean up his scruffy facial hair and tame his locks before they got as bad as Simon's but he had no idea where he'd packed his razor and comb. 

After Nap Time had drifted into Test the Wi-Fi Time, Dean arrived with all their badges clipped on lanyards and also collapsed on a bed. But he soon hopped up and clapped his hands together to announce, "It's time for the surprise I vigorously and mischievously implied when we were getting ready. Something to make this weekend a scintillating and even spellbinding experience."

Setting his hands behind his head, Simon asked, "Is it porn?"

The momentary pause as Dean raised his finger and his eyes flicked around was just enough for Simon to sit up in bed and declare, "Holy shit. Is it good porn?"

Fanning his hands, Dean resolutely denounced, "Assuredly, it is not porn as you might think but....I brought the die with me."

Rolling over on the bed and catching herself so she didn't tumble, Lodi remarked, "It was my idea. Well, I twisted his arm to do it. Wasn't our last D&D session amazing?!"

Eric felt a rush of panic and excitement charge through his brain. The dice. Well, one dice. It had been with Dean for years since he found it in his deceased uncle's attic, within the remains of what looked like an old speakeasy. After some terrifying and incredible experiments, Dean had named it a "reality die". Lodi preferred "reality dice". 

Whoever rolled it basically "rerolled" reality for them. Mage of the Fallen Order? Just roll for it. Edgar had once been a high elf and Simon a lusty goblin. Eric had stuck to human alter-egos. They'd all used the die a few times but Dean had something slightly-different in mind as he announced, "This weekend, we're going to gender swap. Gender bender. Rule 63. I think that covers all the pertinent terminology."

The answer was silence and glancing around at each other, except for Simon, who clapped his hands and remarked, "Orgy! I'm in. Nothing's off-limits for me, not even the butt!"

With a snort, Lodi quipped, "We know. But not an orgy. Well...I'm not going to deny the possibility of an orgy as a tall, virile man with a bunch of lovely ladies around." She put on a fake, wannabe-deep voice, which she couldn't hold without slipping into giggles.

Dean dipped his head and sighed. "Aaaanyyway, we have a plan. So, we all are going to cosplay BUT I offered advance notice that things might vary. We're going to change. I did some provisional testing and this should work. I'm sorry to kinda perforate the balloon of anticipation many of you may have had for your characters and costumes but we're trading it for abundant surprise and an experience like none of us have ever had."

Sinclair was a little discouraged by the announcement but confessed he'd been privy to some of Dean's intentions. Edgar shrugged and agreed it might be fun and Eric went along with the group.

Digging deep into his bag, Dean came out with the die in a small, velvet bag with a steel, mini-case around it, sealed with a five-digit combination. To anyone outside the group, it seemed like a silly, excessive amount of precaution but Eric had seen what this thing could do.

Firstly, Dean set some ground rules and whispered it to the die. No one would be hurt. No one would be placed in danger by their new realities. Their identities would be migrated for legal, hotel, and financial convenience, even though how much they changed would get set on their roll. Everyone would get a different number from one to six.

Dean counted, explaining that rolling one meant a simple, physical change. Rolling two meant a physical change with some demeanor and body language changes. A three would be a physical and mental shift. Four would do all of the previous and alter their lives and certain memories to conform with their new reality. Five would be the full change and some people would remember them that way. Getting a six would be a total rewrite, like they were always transformed and only the other five would remember anything different.

Simon groaned and muttered, "Laaaame. I don't get hard for transformation that is like it never even happened. It's better if you remember something. If I roll that then I'm going to be very pissed."

Dean squeezed the die in his hand and finished whispering. In his palm, it had turned a shimmery shade of pink, verging on neon. Holding it closer to Lodi made it shift into a deep shade of blue. With a raised eyebrow, Lodi noted, "You do know that pink used to be a boyish color, right?"

Sighing, Dean muttered, "I know. Indubitably I am aware but if we're going to do this kind of reality change for the first time, there is inescapably no other way for it to be done, right?"

Lodi shifted her head like she was unconvinced but she let Dean have his fun. He rolled first. Like usual, the numbers vanished before it touched the carpet of the room. When he picked it up, they returned and he passed the die to Edgar, who carefully let it bound over towards the TV. Lodi flicked it up around her to land on the bed. Sinclair gently dropped it on the table like he was simply playing a tabletop game. Simon rolled it hard between his fingers, muttered a few words, and flung it across the room. 

Eric felt a shiver through his entire body when he got the die last. A change to everything he was....simply held in his hand and cast to chance. Who he was now would change. That thought was wild when Dean first used the die but it became old hat with game night. They'd talked about but never seriously attempted this idea. 

But he was going to be a girl! He was going to least in the same class or designation or whatever with that green-haired girl at registration. It was freaky and intimidating and all he could do to avoid thinking about it was just drop the die at his feet. 

A familiar click, like a grandfather clock turning over to chime, filled his senses for a split-second. Then, everything was different. 

The new reality of suddenly being a girl hit him with a sensory overload of small and huge feelings. The weight of his hair now subtly spread to his neck and the shape of that neck. Even breathing caught him off guard as he felt a bra over his shoulders and behind his back. Looking down at the way his breasts created sloping hills out of his new shirt, along with the impression of his bra, was enough to overwhelm his thoughts. Never mind the warmth and weight and pull and itch and tickles.

Her jeans were flat where it mattered. Her? It was technically-right and she would have to get used to it for the weekend. The jeans stretched and clenched against her. She was shorter by a little. Turning her head, she noticed that the shirt graphic was different. Instead of the jazz anime design, there was an ocean by that famous director with a redheaded, red-dressed fish girl running. It looked nice but she still couldn't get past the fact she had boobs which made the graphic all bulgy. 

Blinking, she realized that plenty had changed with the others too. Over at the chair, where Edgar was sitting, she widened her eyes at a small, petite woman with hair that looked somewhere between dark blue and black. She crossed her legs and adjusted her glasses. On the bed, an overwhelmingly-large man with spiky, rusty hair wrapped his arms around a small but busty woman with long, starkly-blue hair that flowed past her shoulders and eyes with a brilliant teal that almost overwhelmed her face. 

Where Sinclair had stood, a diminutive, lean girl, with pink hair almost as bright as the die, had taken his place and none of her posture or demeanor suggested the man she'd once been. Conversely, the blond girl on the bed with long, unkempt golden locks had exactly the same feeling as Simon, especially with her pervy grin at her new breasts.

Extracting herself from that strong, touchy-feelie man, the blue-haired girl touched the die. Gazing at it, she announced, "Four. I rolled a four and man, that's a heck of a drug. I have memories. Of things. I'm still me though. I think. I'm....Miranda right now. My husband...wife. Uh, Lodi, is Nick. She got a five. Then...Clair?"

The pink-haired girl raised her hand and announced, "Present! Can I have some candy?"

Miranda smiled and told her, "Sure. Later. Clair is a six. That'll be interesting. Which leaves Pearl..." She gestured to the chair where the girl with glasses pulled herself up and tucked her legs underneath her. A hint of recognition hit her and she nodded before Miranda continued, "Three. And Suzy?"

Her finger gestured at Eric, who reeled at a new name, a girl's name that meant him...her. She bit her lip and nodded. That left Simon, now May, who had rolled for a physical transformation only. Chuckling, May admitted, "My best roll ever. So I'm gonna need like a really f-ed-up and pointy dragon dildo, maybe a jar of lube, some heated-massage oil, ooooh and nipple clamps."

For all her changes, Miranda still made Dean's distinctive sigh. They took some time to get reacquainted and Miranda put the die away safely while Nick traced his hands across her and beckoned to their private room. Leaving the bathroom for others, Suzy rummaged around her luggage. She had plenty of clothes, a different, neko-cute skin on her laptop, and an all-new cosplay.

Instead of the cowboy gunslinger with obvious plastic shooters she'd hauled through the airport without incident, this outfit was fluttery and flowing and included a magical wand that changed colors like it had a lava lamp on the tip. Slipping out of the room, she took the wand with her. If she was more like Simon, then she would be swinging it around and imagining turning everything in sight into pretty girls. But she kept it aimed down, though at the ready. 

She was desperate for a mirror. The cluttered, narrow one in the main room hadn't been enough. She needed to see herself. 

What she didn't expect was the newness of just walking. Her hips shifted in a way that took more of a sway and put different pressures on her legs. It was just one of several sensations that walking invited. The pull of her boobs on her pits. The cut of her underwear. The fact that she was a girl! A girl a girl a girl! It was gradually getting less crazy to consider but each new reminder swung her mind around like a piston. Moving soon became an unconscious act she could simply do but her brain still had a hard time not freaking out. 

Each new person walking by saw someone, a version of her, which was only a few minutes old. When she got to the restroom for the floor, she had to take a minute to swallow and stare at the little figure with the skirt and tell herself, "that one" and not the other. Granted, there was also a gender-neutral restroom at the end but she didn't notice it.

Walking inside was exciting for a minute, until she realized she really needed to use the facilities. Clamping her butt onto the cold plastic, she went. It felt different but not that different. She lingered by the mirror with her wand out. Regular women, old ladies, little girls, and preparing cosplayers arrived and left. She posed and held her wand out, throwing on a smile too. 

No one really noticed. No one said anything. She was just there. Like going into a different world right beside her own. It felt so heady and crazy.

She couldn't wait to see how the rest of the weekend went!


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About the author


Bio: I'm MajorKerina and I love to collaborate creatively with a group of friends to make tales where people have their genders, identities, and very realities questioned, contorted, and turned upside-down. I like slice-of-life with a spicing of the supernatural, strange, or surreal. Reality with a scent of the impossible. You can find me on DeviantArt, Twitter, ScribbleHub, and other places.

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