I am the person I am today, for many reasons, because of my daughter. I was just two years out of high school when I discovered that I was pregnant. Having decided to skip college and go straight into the workforce, my boyfriend, Jake, and I were barely keeping a roof over our heads serving retail. But he did the honorable thing and popped the question, determined to do right by his girls. My parents wanted me to abort the baby until I was in a financially stable place to create a family; they were so mortified that they didn’t even attend my wedding. It was little more than a courthouse affair anyway, my bulging belly straining the thrift store white sundress I wore. Two months after that, and our daughter Caroline was born.
Jake and I worked double hard to make a home for our little family. I quit my retail job and found another with a call center that would let me work from home on a flexible schedule so I could keep an eye on Caroline. Meanwhile, Jake was working so much overtime it felt like I never saw him.
Things proceeded for the next few years and we started to finally feel like our heads were above water. But that was when tragedy struck. A week before Caroline’s fifth birthday, Jake was killed in a freak workplace accident. I pretty much shut down for the next month until I realized that my daughter was suffering as well. We somehow managed to carry each other through that hard time, though to this day I don’t know how. Thankfully, there was a large settlement due to the nature of the accident. Though it in no way made up for losing a husband and father, the funds provided some financial security over the next few years.
Fast forward the next thirteen years. Raising a child as a single mother is never easy, especially a moody teenager. Caroline made it clear that she always felt that I wasn’t there enough for her, despite my best efforts. It’s hard to explain to a middle schooler why mommy had to miss your music recital because she had to work to make the rental payment on your flute.
Our disagreements got worse toward the end of high school. I wanted Caroline to avoid my mistake and go to college. She was ready to drop out of high school and run straight after her dream of being a fashion designer. I managed to talk her into completing high school at least, but failed to get Caroline to apply to a single college. Things came to a head a month after graduation, when I said she was an asshole for throwing away all the opportunities I had tried to make for her. Angry, Caroline moved out and went to stay with a friend.
After that, I didn’t see Caroline for 6 months. Then my doorbell went off and I was confused to find no-one there. It wasn’t until I looked down that I realize there indeed someone there, or at least half a someone. It wasn’t until the anuswoman spoke that I realized that it was my daughter. “You were right mom, I was an asshole. Can I come in?”
Stunned, I let my now half a daughter inside and over to the couch. Caroline curled up beside me just like she did when she was little and something bad had happened in school. “I suppose you have some questions?” I simply nodded, waiting for my daughter speak her piece.
It turned out that five months after she had left, the friend that Caroline was staying with decided to make a spontaneous trip to the Realm. Still sullen, Caroline and some of their other friends had tagged along. After partying in the capital for a few days and way too much alcohol and other mood enhancers, one of the other girls had suggested they all get transformed. Caroline was skeptical, but the idea caught on like wildfire among the others. So, my daughter found herself dragged along under a heavy dose of peer pressure.
Two of the girls were twins, so it was a forgone conclusion that they would become a single vaginawoman. Another had a run in with a cockfish that made her a better candidate for a cockwoman. The friend my daughter was staying with was known for her busty nature, making her a good breast-woman candidate. That left the anus-woman machine open for my daughter. After flashing back to our last conversation, Caroline found the situation fitting.
The trip had fallen apart after that. The vaginawoman had run off to join a commune, the cockwoman had found a nice guy and ditched them, and her friend had to sell half of herself to a boob-farm to pay for their expenses and make it back to the Empire. When Caroline returned to her friend’s place with her half of a friend, the parents kicked her out for allowing such a terrible thing to happen to their daughter. “I didn’t have anywhere else to go.” If Caroline still had eyes, there would be tears falling down her face. “Can I come home?”
I’m not a heartless monster, so I brought my daughter back into my life. Caroline struggled with her new body and I brought her to support groups of other transformees to help her adjust. I did some remodeling around the house to put important items on lower shelves or make sure there were plenty of stepladders available. Dinnertime took a lot of adjustment to find foods that would work with my daughter’s anatomy and that she could eat without assistance.
It took a few years, but Caroline broke out of her shell and her entrepreneurial spirit rekindled itself. She made money selling her “mousse” to high end restaurants looking for an exotic treat for guests. With these funds, she purchased materials and started turning out custom clothing for transformees.
This turn out to be an untapped market; after all, the local clothing store doesn’t tend to stock three cup bras. I went along with Caroline to a large number of craft fairs, conventions, and other events as she slowly built her little company up into a profitable empire.
Surprisingly, I made several transformee friends along the way. Actually, more than a few, to the point one finally asked when I was going to get transformed myself. This shocked me, until it was pointed out it was almost odd that I was so deep within the local transformee community without having undergone a change myself. Up until that point, I had never considered getting transformed. But I suddenly couldn’t get the idea out of my head.
A few weeks later, I surprised Caroline with two tickets to the Realm. Pleasantly surprised, she asked what had brought this impromptu vacation on. I explained that it was an apology. Caroline had made a profitable career for herself without the college I tried to foist upon her. If anyone was the asshole in this situation it was me, and I intended to rectify that situation. In a stunned voice, Caroline asked if that meant what she thought it meant. I nodded and asked if she could use another leg model for the tights collection she had been working on. I think that moment was the happiest I had ever seen my daughter, only elapsed a month later when I walked out of the transformation machine looking exactly like her.
Edit to update: I thought my story was going to end there, but it turns out there was one more chapter to tell. On our last night in the Realm, I met a handsome gentleman, Jason, at the hotel bar and we danced and drank the night away. Something I hadn’t done since before Caroline was born. And when I took my seat on the airship home the next morning, guess who was sitting in the row opposite Caroline and myself? It should have been awkward, especially as I had snuck out of Jason’s room late that night to make it back to my own. Instead, we spent the whole way back talking. It turned out that Jason lived in the same town as us and had been in the realm for his cousin’s bachelor party.
As we spoke, I found myself feeling an emotion I haven’t in a long time. Attraction. I don’t know where it will lead, but I’m willing to give this new relationship a chance. After all, there aren’t too many guys who enjoy their girlfriend being a dirty asshole in the bedroom. Jason has a son around Caroline’s age and it seems father and son share at least some of the same fetishes. I won’t start planning the double wedding yet, but it very well could be in our future.