Description
Story
Trigger #119: The Mouse of Micromanagement
Object Class: The Wand/Casting Focus of one Evelyn Miller, Second Degree Witch, a Fledgling of my Coven returning to her work as a programmer at ZigZag Games after her “Mandatory Sabbatical.” Eve’s wand allows her to cast spells reminiscent of reprogramming the world around her, or interfacing with reality as if it were a desktop.
Transformation Type: TG, Petplay, Furrification lvl 1: Kemonomimi.
Threat Level: Benevolent. I trained Evelyn like I train all my Fledgeling witches, to use her great power RESPONSIBLY. I will say I pity the poor jerk that gets on her bad side, though. >:3
Subjects: Evelyn Miller, 28, Human, F, formerly Evan Miller, 28, Human, AMAB,
and Brea Dalton, 30, Half Human/Half Labrador Retriever, F, formerly Brad Dalton, 30, Human, AMAB.
The following is a biographical account of events based on the subject's own testimonies and several eyewitness accounts.
[Trigger warning for depictions of Verbal Abuse and Transmisogyny.}
I can't wait to get back to work.
Evelyn of all people never expected herself to think that, of all things. But now, after her month-long sabbatical with Mrs. Alcott, during which she became a woman AND a witch to boot, she was excited to see how her old co-workers would treat “the new girl.” Of course, thanks to the reality warping Veil separating the magical and mundane worlds, her co-workers now believed she had never been anyone but Evelyn Miller, Senior Developer at ZigZag Games.
Evelyn slipped on her new heels as she traipsed out the door. Aside from her new footwear, her office attire wasn’t anything flashy, just a green blouse and khakis. She had always been something of a utilitarian, anyways, and she liked how these pants complemented every inch of her new legs and ass. In her right front pocket was a mini-USB mouse, her wand, which she had been using as something of a fidget toy in her ordinary day-to-day life when she wasn’t casting. It felt like insurance. If anything went wrong, I can always Alt F4 out of there, or something like that. Or if I really wanted, I could just turn everyone into newts, haha…
Evelyn stopped for a moment. An almost overwhelming but familiar wave of fear swept over her, just as it used to every day she came into work.
Every day she had to deal with HIM.
But she shook her head, and steadied her nerves.
You’re a witch now, Evelyn. There’s nothing you need to fear…
With a grin, she took a nice deep breath of the crisp fall air, adjusted her glasses, and joined the parade of commuters on their way to work.
There was another little flutter of fear in Eve’s chest when she left the elevator to her floor.
Mira said there was only a 1.03% chance of anyone seeing past the Veil… As far as anyone else knows, I’m Evelyn. I’m a WOMAN.
Her fears were assuaged somewhat by her female colleagues approaching her cubicle with the latest office gossip. They had never done that when she was “Evan”, but in this “alternate timeline” of sorts, the lack of a gender divide must have brought them much closer.
“Evie, did you hear about Big Bad Brad throwing a shit fit this morning?” Deborah, one of Evie’s close friends even before her transformation, asked. Evelyn groaned. Her department head, Brad Dalton, had been nothing short of an absolutely monumental pain in her ass since she was hired to this position six years ago. She didn’t know what on earth she could have done to upset him, but Brad had it out for “Evan” right from the very start.
Brad was the kind of boss people have nightmares about. He would lecture you for doing tasks that were slightly outside of your job description because you weren’t “qualified for it.” Such tasks included using the company printer or hand delivering paperwork to another department. In the same breath, he would scream at you for “not taking initiative and going above and beyond for the company.” Brad was awful to everyone in the office, but for some special reason known only to himself and GOD, he’d decided “Evan” was his favorite punching bag.
He’d force her to do months’ worth of unpaid overtime. He dumped all of his own assignments onto her desk. If she had the audacity to take her fifteen minute break anywhere within his eyesight, he’d punish her with a deluge of ridiculous busy work. Once he’d screamed himself hoarse so close to her face she’d had to wipe his spit off her cheek and get her ears checked for tinnitus.
Worst of all, any time “Evan” did something worthy of recognition; Brad would steal full credit for it. Nothing she did was ever good enough in his eyes, but if it was, it suddenly wasn’t hers anymore.
The stress had gotten so severe that, after collapsing in the office; HR sent him on a mandatory paid vacation, a “Sabbatical” they’d called it. Even then she'd had to block Brad’s number, as he wouldn’t stop calling her to ask trivial questions and make passive aggressive remarks.
If her job was Hell, then Brad was the Devil himself, determined to make “Evan” suffer for the sin of being born.
But… all of that was behind her now. She had gotten away from his regime for a month. She’d met Mrs. Alcott, became a witch, and learned how to wield magic.
She clicked her pocket mouse a few times just to remind herself of her failsafe, and smiled.
I’m a witch. He can’t hurt me anymore. Plus, I’m a woman now, anyways! It would look ten times worse for him to abuse a girl half his size! He usually picks on the men because of that. Maybe I’m finally off his radar? Though I do feel pretty bad for whatever poor son of a bitch that takes my spot on his shitlist.
“No, Debbie, fill me in. What’s Big Baby Brad filling his diaper about now?” Evelyn said with a smirk. Ohhhh, I could get USED to this.
“I think he’s FINALLY went and gone crazy! He keeps looking for some dude named ‘Evan’”.
And just like that, all the color left Evelyn’s face. Her skin felt clammy and cold. Her blood turned to ice water in her veins
No… no no no, please dear God, no…
“EVAN?! WHERE IS THAT GOOD FOR NOTHING SLACKER?!?!”
His voice bellowed out from his office like a dragon’s roar from his den. Evelyn’s colleagues dove back to the relative safety of their desks and pretended to busy themselves.
Evelyn stood stock still, however. The slow stomping of his feet as he trudged his way to her desk only served to make her heart beat ever faster, trying to set a pace for escape. But there she sat, stiff as a statue as Brad towered over the entrance to her cubicle, locking her in, as she always did.
He was so much taller than her now. He had been an inch or two over her before her transformation, but now he dwarfed her. Overpowered her with his sheer size.
For a brief moment, his fury broke into confusion.
“JUST WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU, AND WHAT ARE YOU DOING AT EVAN’S DESK?!?!”
Her mind raced, trying to come up with any kind of lie that would get her out of this, get him off her case, get him to believe what he was supposed to believe because the Veil was supposed to WORK, WHY DIDN’T THE VEIL WORK?!
Instead, tongue tied by fear, she blurted out her usual response to Brad’s nonsensical tantrums.
“Uh-um, w-well, sir, I-...” she stammered.
“UH-uM w-WeLl SiR I” he mimicked her condescendingly, raising the pitch of his voice to do so properly this time, at least. “SPEAK UP, WOMAN! GOD, YOU SOUND JUST LIKE-!!!”
And then he stopped. He scanned her face, coming so uncomfortably close Evelyn couldn’t help but flinch, the same way she always did when he got too close to her.
To her horror, there was recognition in his eyes. And then, murder.
“EVAN...IS THIS SOME KIND OF FUCKING JOKE?” poison dripped from his voice.
“M-My n-name isn’t Evan, sir, it’s-”
“CUT THE BULLSHIT, MILLER, I KNOW IT’S YOU!”
Her throat dried up. Talking felt more like choking now.
“I SAID, THIS BETTER BE A FUCKING JOKE, BECAUSE I KNOW YOU DIDN’T WALK INTO MY OFFICE DRESSED UP AS SOME- AS A- WHATEVER THIS IS SUPPOSED TO BE?!”
Evelyn wrapped her arms around herself as he looked her up and down in disgust. She dug her nails into her arms.
How the hell does he know- WHY the hell does he- But I’m a GIRL now! He’s not supposed to be able to tell that I used to be…
“EVAN. MY OFFICE. NOW.” Brad didn’t scream this time, and somehow, that was more frightening. He said it like a judge making her death sentence.
As Brad stormed off, Evelyn could only shrink back into her seat and murmur a response.
“Y-yes, sir…”
She rose to her feet on weak, shaky legs. Before she made it to Brad’s office, she was intercepted by Debbie and the other girls.
“Evie, what the HELL was THAT all about? Is he getting on your ass for wearing PANTS instead of a SKIRT or something, the sexist pig…?” she asked.
All Evelyn could do was hug her, much to Debbie’s confusion.
“I… don’t really think it matters anymore, Debbie. I just want you to know it’s been a pleasure working with you…”
And with that, she walked into Brad’s office with the same reluctance one walks to the gallows.
“OF ALL THE DISGUSTING, PERVERTED, IMMATURE, UNPROFESSIONAL THINGS YOU COULD HAVE DONE, THIS TAKES THE FUCKING CAKE PAL. COMING TO WORK DRESSED UP AS A WOMAN?! I OUGHT TO HAVE YOU WRITTEN UP FOR SEXUAL HARASSMENT!!!”
The rest of the office was lucky Brad’s office had been soundproofed due to noise complaints. Evelyn wasn’t so lucky. She could hear her ears start ringing already.
“WELL, WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF?!?! IS THIS WHY EVERYONE HAS BEEN CALLING YOU “EVELYN” ALL DAY?! ARE YOU ONE OF THOSE- THOSE- WHAT THE HELL DO YOU CALL IT?! TRANS-SIBERIANS!?!?!”
“W-wait, like the Orchestra?”
“DID I SAY YOU COULD TALK?!?!”
You just said… ugh… Evelyn could feel her fighting spirit diminish, gushing out of her by the second.
As she usually did, she reached into her pocket for the comfort of her “fidget toy.”
Click click click click…
“YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED OF YOURSELF!!! AND PEOPLE CALL ME SEXIST?!”
CLICK CLICK CLICK CLICK
“I WANT YOU TO GO TO THE LOCKER ROOM, THE MEN’S LOCKER ROOM, YOU SICKO, AND TAKE THAT RIDICULOUS COSTUME OFF! AND THEN YOU’RE GOING TO GIVE EVERY WOMAN IN THIS OFFICE A PROPER APOLOGY?! DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?!”
CLICKCLICKCLICKCLICKCLICKETYCLICK!
“I SAID, ‘DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR, MR. MILLER?!?!?!?!”
“...yes, sir…”
The color was draining from Evelyn’s eyes now. He had her exactly where he wanted her. Standing on her neck. Beaten into submission. He knew all her buttons, all her fears and insecurities, and knew exactly how to push them.
“‘YES’, WHAT?!!!!”
CLIKCLIKCLIKCLKCLKCLKCLK
“...Yes, sir. Sorry, si-”
And then Evelyn stopped, and realized something.
She wasn’t just a woman now. She was also a real ass, bonafide, honest to god WITCH. And her fidget toy was more than just a comfort object now.
It was a WEAPON.
“No.”
“Now get the hell out of my- wait, WHAT THE HELL DID YOU JUST SAY?!?!”
Evelyn pulled her mouse from her pocket like it was a gun. Her knuckles were white as she pointed the device directly at him.
“I SAID, ‘NO’!!!!” her scream was filled with the power of a righteous woman’s fury.
Brad was dumbfounded for a moment. His favorite punching bag had just started to punch back. Then, he screwed his face into a scowl, and rose from his cushy office chair.
“NOW YOU LISTEN HERE, YOU LITTLE SH-”
“NO. NOW IT’S YOUR TURN TO LISTEN. MUTE USER(Bradley Dalton)!” As Evelyn spoke, a speaker, visible only to her and Brad, hovered over his head. She clicked it, x-ing it out.
“_____________!!!” Brad tried screaming again, of course, but nothing came out.
“Lock User(Bradley Dalton) to Object{//office chair//}.” Like metal to a magnet, Brad was pulled back to his chair and stuck as if tied to it with chains.
For once, his mouth was shut, eyes wide with horror.
Evelyn’s eyes burned cyan and she massaged her temples.
“Why did it have to be YOU. Why did YOU of all people have to be the ONE person in this office, in this BUILDING, who could pierce the Veil. It’s not fucking fair…”
She took a steadying breath, and glowered at her frozen manager.
“You… are the single WORST person I have EVER MET. You’ve made the last six years of my life a living HELL. Every SECOND I spent trying DESPERATELY to PLEASE you was like SWALLOWING SHARDS OF GLASS! I HAD ULCERS NAMED AFTER YOU!!!”
Her scream dripped with the righteous anger of a woman scorned. She strode over in her heels and leaned over his desk, menacingly. There was only one question on her mind.
“WHY?!” she asked, her anger tinged with desperation.
Brad didn’t try to answer, his mouth a thin, quivering line across his face.
‘“Why did it have to be ME!? What did I EVER do to you?!” her voice faltered, teardrops burned in her eyes.
Brad went to open his mouth again.
“SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!” Evelyn hissed, “IT DOESN’T MATTER WHY!!! THERE’S NO POSSIBLE REASON TO TREAT PEOPLE LIKE THIS OTHER THAN THE FACT THAT YOU’RE A SAD, PATHETIC LITTLE MAN WHO ENJOYS ABUSING WHATEVER TENUOUS SHRED OF POWER HE CAN GET HIS DISGUSTING HANDS ON!!!”
Evelyn pointed her mouse at Brad again. He flinched as much as his paralyzed body would allow.
“I should collar you. Turn you into a newt, or a fly, or the fucking COCKROACH YOU ARE. No one would even KNOW. No one would even MISS you. This office would CHEER if you disappeared today!”
Sure, the Witchhunters might find out and come after me that way, but it would be WORTH IT.
Brad closed his eyes. Snot and tears ran down his face. His sobs were muted, but she could still tell he was sobbing from the convulsions.
It was then she saw her reflection in his eyes. The look of contempt on her face wasn’t hers, though.
It was HIS.
Suddenly, her mentor’s words echoed in her head.
“Casting a curse on someone should always be the last possible resort…”
“I’m not gonna sit here and pretend that there aren’t some absolutely irredeemable assholes out there. I’m not gonna deny some people are just… beyond even OUR help. In those cases, you do whatever you gotta do to protect yourself and others.
But hurt people hurt people. All I ask is… try to use a little Empathy before you cast judgment.
Instead of changing them into a frog… check first to see if you can’t change them into a better PERSON. When the time comes… you’ll know what to do.
With great power, comes great responsibility, after all…”
Evelyn closed her eyes, craned her head back and sucked some air in through her nose. She exhaled, her body losing the tremors of anger it had had before.
Alright, Mira… you win… we’ll try it your way…
Evelyn stroked the molten core of magic swirling through her system.
Through the nothingness of the Ethereal Plane, she looked straight into Brad’s soul, and opened her eyes… and her heart.
She saw a son derided by his father at every turn. A son struggling to cross an ever moving goal post, to meet ever rising expectations.
She saw a young man grow up believing that men had to “take charge, assert their dominance,” or they would never survive in today’s dog eat dog world.
She saw a tired, middle aged middle manager that had been convinced that anger was strength, and compassion was weakness. A man needs to always be in charge. Only women ask for help.
And she saw… a woman inside all of those layers. Trapped forever. Aroused by her. Jealous of her.
And then, just like her mentor had said, she knew exactly what she needed to do.
“Someone once told me… ‘with great power, comes great responsibility.’ I’m pretty sure she stole that saying from a comic book or something, but… it doesn’t make it less true.
Evelyn raised her mouse again. It was lighter than before, and there was a smile on her lips this time.
“You’ve abused that power. You’ve shirked your responsibilities. So I’ve decided to take them away from you and give them to someone more deserving. Un-mute User (Bradley Dalton).”
Brad coughed as his voice came back, and cowered.
“W-What are you…? W-What are you gonna do to me…?” he sniveled pathetically.
“What I’m gonna do to you is simple. I’m still gonna collar you… just in a different way. I’m going to give you the position you deserve. I’m going to put you in your PLACE.”
A cursor appeared over Brad’s trembling body. It right clicked on his forehead, revealing a long, complicated string of code. The building blocks of his entire being.
“As for who I am… well.. I’m just a humble programmer.”
A holographic keyboard appeared just below Evelyn’s fingertips, and she eagerly started clicking away.
“Let’s start simple. Change User(Bradley Dalton) from <sex=M> to <sex= F>...”
Brad’s eyes went wide again. She could still feel his emotions. His horror… and his secret excitement!
“W-What!? W-Wait, you can’t- AHNNN!”
Bradley moaned as the throbbing hard on in his pants started to recede. Up, up, and up it went, back into his body, no, HER body, fucking her silly from the inside as the magic did its work. Her hard, tired beyond her years face melted into silky smooth cheeks, pouty lips, a button nose, and two big, blue, doll-like eyes. Her body hair receded into nothing, and her hairline un-receded until it was draped over her shoulder in long, golden locks. Her limbs became slender and soft, and her height shrank until she would be looking up at Evelyn even standing.
She was undoubtedly a woman now, but Evelyn still wasn’t done.
“Edit <Bust><Waist> and <Hip> sizes to…. <Bust= 44.90 inches> <Waist= 27 inches> aaaaaand <Hips=45 inches>...”
“Haaahh~!!!”
In her new, feminized cadence, Brad moaned as two ripe melons burst from her chest and popped out of her dress shirt. Her waist caved in, and her lower half grew thicker and thicker until it ripped right through the seams of her pants. She cried crocodile tears in her tattered, draping clothes, and covered herself, but Evelyn knew better. In the deepest, most private parts of her very core, Brad was secretly loving every second of this.
“H-Holy shit?! What the hell did you DO to me, you BITCH?! I-I look like some dumb, blonde BIMBO!!!” Brad groused.
“Ah, good thinking! Change vernacular from <vernacular=Midwestern> to <vernacular=Valley Speak>.”
“Like, what the hell does THAT mean?! W-Wait, hold up, like, why can’t I stop saying ‘LIKE’?! Oh em GEE now I SOUND like a bimbo too! You’d better change back my verna- uh , my v-vernocooler… UGH, my VOICE, like, right NOW! And literally EVERYTHING ELSE”
Her voice was shriller now. Even screaming, she was adorable. No one in their right mind would be intimidated by her.
Evelyn shrugged.
“Sure, alright, if you say so…”
She started clacking away again, pretending to start undoing the changes.
“W-Wait, what…?” Brad tilted her head in confusion. Her pouty, clueless little face made Evelyn snort.
To think, I used to be scared of… THIS.
“I said sure, if you say so!”
Silence. A bead of sweat dripped down Evelyn smiled wickedly.
“That is, of course, if you even WANT to go back. Because you know what I think? Unlock User(Bradley Dalton).”
Brad tried to stand but only managed to slump to her knees. Evelyn took her chin in her hand.
“I think you don’t WANT me to stop. I think, deep deep down, you’re a simpering little slut who’s wetter than she’s ever been in her miserable life. I think you WANT me to boss you around, to treat you like a ‘lowly’ little secretary, going on coffee runs and sitting around looking pretty while someone else does all the ‘REAL’ work.”
Brad’s eyes avoided Evelyn’s like they were polarized, but Evelyn just forced her head back to facing her.
“I think you don’t want to be in charge anymore. I think you want someone else to be in charge of YOU.”
Brad’s lip quivered as she finally met Evelyn’s gaze.
“And I think you want me to finish what I started. Don’t you…?”
Brad’s voice, once so booming, so commanding and thunderous, was now barely a whisper.
“...y-yes… I do…”
“Yes, what?”
“... y-yes ma’am. S-Sorry ma’am.”
Evelyn couldn’t help but cackle a little.
“Good girl. Speaking of… change User(Bradley Dalton) species from <species=human> to <species= Golden Retriever Kemonomimi.”
Brad’s dainty hands rose to inspect her ears as they grew long, furry, and floppy. A thick, fluffy tail pushed out of her waistband and brushed against her desk, sending a shiver up her spine.
“Change clothes from <Top=Button Up Long Sleeve>, <Neck=Tie>, <Bottom= Dress Pants>, <Shoes= Loafers>, and <Underwear= Boxers> to <Top= Sleeveless Blouse>, <Neck: Dog Collar Choker>, <Bottom=Mini Skirt>, <Shoes= Four Inch Stiletto Pumps>, and <Underwear= Lace Lingerie>.”
In seconds, every fiber of Brad’s old clothes revealed itself to hug and emphasize the new curves of her body. A thin red velvet dog collar with a golden tag coiled around her neck. She struggled to pull herself upright as her balance was already being thrown off by her tits, her tail, and her skirt trapped legs. Her shoes morphing into stilettos was the straw that broke the camel's back. She fell chest first against her desk, desperate for any kind of support. She moaned as her boxers split in half and crawled up under her shirt, cupping her heavy chest and pushing her breasts up and together. A thong snapped itself around her womanhood, and she made a satisfying yipe.
“N-Nooooooooo, staaaaaahp!” Brad cried out unconvincingly, her rapidly wagging tail further betraying her desires.
“Finally, let’s go ahead and do a World Edit. Change User ID Bradley Dalton from <User ID=Bradley Dalton> tooooo… <User ID= Brea Dalton>.”
Evelyn saved this spell for last for more than just dramatic effect. Retconjuration magic was exhausting for anyone besides a Third Degree Witch, like her mentor. But she could see the code of life around her rewrite itself, reweave the narrative into Brea’s new past, present, and future. Of particular note was Brea’s demotion from <occupation=Coding Department Head> to <occupation=Office Assistant> and her own promotion from <occupation= Senior Developer> to <occupation= Coding Department Head>, a position she likely would have held years ago if not for Brad’s meddling.
Brea could only whimper as the office changed around them, wiping her old knickknacks and tacky trophies from existence and replacing them with Evelyn’s much more tasteful office decorations. Brea could only whimper in protest as her own ID card changed right before her eyes.
“What?!! No! My name’s not Brad! It’s Brea! I mean, it’s Brea! M-my name is Brrrrrrr-EA!” Brea cried out, half heartedly fighting her new programming. “I’m not a man! I mean, I’m a girl! NO! I’m a girl!!! I’m actually a GIRL! I’m not a man, I’m a GIRL!!!!”
“That’s right, my sweet… you’re a girl now… just like me.” Evelyn cooed into her ear.
Brea feigned horror… but Evelyn knew the truth.
“W-What’s gonna happen to me now…?”
Evelyn thought for a moment.
“Well, to be honest with you, honey, I’m all tapped out of mana at the moment. I couldn’t change you back now even if I wanted to… or more accurately, even if YOU wanted me to.”
Brea’s face burned redder than her collar.
“I can’t force you to do anything, but I’ll tell you what you CAN do. I’ll give you TWO options."
Evelyn strutted over to Brea’s old desk, sat in her cushy chair, and kicked her feet up.
“You can go back to your desk, and write a strongly worded apology to me, and to everyone else in this office, and get back to work…”
Evelyn pulled her tight, coarse pants down every inch of her long, soft legs and spread them wide. Her sex was hot, and dripping.
“...Or if you REALLY want to show me you’re sorry, you can come over here and use that mouth for something other than barking orders, and we’ll consider this whole thing square~ What do you say?”
Brea considered it a moment, mouth watering at the sight of the beautiful, commanding woman in front of her.
“...I-”
“Oh, wait, silly me!” Evelyn playfully smacked her own forehead. “I almost forgot! Dogs don’t talk!”
“I-arf? Arf?! W-Woof woof! Back bark!” Brea clasped a hand to her throat as her command of the English language slipped through her fingers. Although she couldn’t deny it, or even communicate it at the moment… being muzzled like this was insanely hot. She was a dog in heat.
“Let me rephrase. You can walk out there and return to your new life as Brea Dalton… or, you can crawl over here, and be my new lap dog. What do you say?”
Brea looked to the door, looked at her new mistress, and got down on all fours, ears perked, tail wagging, tongue panting in anticipation.
“ARF!~”
“Good girl. Now let’s put that new tongue of yours to use.”
From the desk of
Mira Alcott
Head-Mistress of Transformations
(Special thanks to bridgefall for the suggestion, to my Test Readers, to Head Maid Violet Velvet and Zoey for editing, and to all of my Patrons for your support!)
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redwsl1
Memberthere has been a crime committed
a most heinous moustache robbery
what scoundrel could have perpetrated this
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